Chapter 9
Sandra
Walking the streets like a cat is not as simple as it seems.
I need to stay away from humans at all costs. I can't risk being discovered by someone who will take me to a vet. The last thing I need right now is to be spayed or, worse, end up in a shelter, running the risk of being put down because no one will adopt me.
I move through the shadows, nimbly jumping over walls. When I finally see his house, I feel a glimmer of hope. I run around the property, peering into the windows. Everything seems empty. The silence is overwhelming.
I climb up to the front door and jump, using my paws to try to reach the doorbell. The sound echoes. Nothing.
I whimper, but the response is the same silence. My stomach contracts in painful protest, and my vision begins to darken at the edges. I can't stay here. I need to eat something before I pass out.
With a heavy heart, I leave the house and wander the streets again, trying to remember places where I might find food. After a while, I come across a restaurant. The smell of grease and spices fills my nostrils, and my mouth waters.
I approach the alley, where I know there are leftovers, and with luck, I can sneak inside and steal something from the kitchen. The back door creaks open, and an employee comes out carrying a rubbish bag.
Hope grows in my chest. Maybe he will take pity on a hungry kitten and offer me some food. However, when his eyes meet mine, they narrow with contempt. Then the man lunges forward in a sudden movement, already raising his foot to kick.
"Go away," he shouts, his voice thick with irritation. "I've got nothing for you."
My body stiffens for a second, but my instinct reacts before I do. I jump back just as his foot passes a few centimetres from my body.
Without wasting any time, I dash away, my paws barely touching the ground.
What a despicable human. Some are worse than monsters.
I wander the streets, passing buildings and houses.
I try my luck at another establishment, but I see two employees smoking and chatting at the back entrance and give up.
My stomach hurts, a deep pain that makes me wonder how much longer I can go on like this.
Then I notice a house with a little pet door.
I take a chance. I stop at the threshold, sniffing the air. The smell of dog is present, but faint. To live inside a house without a yard, it must be a small to medium-sized animal. I sneak in, my paws making almost no noise on the floor.
The kitchen is silent. I climb up to the counter, but there is nothing within my reach: no fruit, no food left out, nothing I can grab in this form. I swallow hard. I look at the digital clock on the microwave: almost seven o'clock in the evening. It's been almost fourteen hours since my last meal.
I return to the living room, where I spotted two bowls near the wall.
One of food and one of water. I hesitate as I approach.
The smell of the food isn't exactly tempting, but hunger is worse.
My stomach tightens. Hunger leaves no room for pride.
I approach the food bowl, already bending down to pick up a single kibble with my teeth.
Then I hear it.
A low growl coming from the stairs. My heart races. I look up and see the dog. He is much bigger than I expected. His paws thud heavily on the steps as he descends, teeth bared, barking.
I don't have time to think. I run towards the door and jump over the fence into the street.
My mind is racing.
How stupid of me to leave Luther's house. I should have stayed there, waiting for him to return from wherever he had gone.
I couldn't find anything to eat on the street and wasted more time than I thought I would. By now he must be getting ready for work, if he hasn't already left to pick me up as agreed.
My weakness almost consumes me as I run, trying to find my bearings. The streets become more deserted as I move forward. I turn a corner, thinking I'm going around the block, but the path leads to a dark, dead-end alley.
I stop immediately, my body hunched over, my senses on alert.
"Help..." a female voice sounds from deep within.
I look in the direction of the sound, a feeling of discomfort creeping up my spine, my hair standing on end.
I take a few hesitant steps forward, sniffing the air.
Something is very wrong here.
The smell of blood is like bait. I know I shouldn't follow it, I can't help being trapped in this form.
My instincts scream to turn back, but curiosity has always been my weakness. I approach, the smell of blood mingling with the sickening stench of rubbish and rot, a combination that seems to corrode the air.
Peering over the side of the dumpster, my eyes meet an indescribable horror: pieces of mutilated bodies scattered like disposable debris.
A human forearm lies there, torn off at the elbow , the flesh lacerated by deep, jagged cuts, as if it had been attacked with a knife possessed by evil.
The hand, with its twisted fingers, seems frozen in a final plea.
Nausea overwhelms me, rising like a stormy sea, but before I can retreat, a sound paralyses me. A dry, rhythmic scratching, nails against the metal of the dumpster. My heart races.
There's someone in there. It must be her, the victim, still alive!
I need to find someone, some human, and try to get them to follow me into the alley to help her.
I need to...
"Help," the soft voice drags from inside. "Help," she repeats, but the human tone distorts, becoming guttural, until it turns into a terrifying noise. I feel a chill run down my spine.
Suddenly, the sound stops, and absolute silence takes over. Then, seconds later, something moves in the dumpster.
A figure begins to emerge, slowly and macabrely.
It rises, inch by inch, as if it will never stop growing. It is not human. It is too tall, too thin. Its dark grey skin is marked by black veins that pulse beneath the surface, vibrating with a horrible energy, as if the very essence of the creature were made of pain and darkness.
The creature leans out, its long, disproportionate arms dragging across the floor. Its enormous fingers end in nails as sharp as daggers, which scratch the cement with a horrifying sound.
And its face...
It is a vision of pure terror.
Its black, cave-like eyes stare at me, deep and hungry, as if they could devour my soul. Its enormous mouth displays long, pointed teeth, and the smell that emanates from it is rotten, like death.
"Hungry," the creature utters, the same female voice as before, and my brain understands that it does this to attract prey.
My body is paralysed with fear, but my mind screams: Run!
My legs take a few uncertain steps backwards, colliding with that forearm. A visceral dread takes hold of me, immobilising my movements. The monster moves slowly, its sharp nails leaving marks on the floor as it approaches, each step a promise of destruction.
I need to run. I need to escape.
But the moment I think that, it lunges forward.
I dodge at the last moment, leaping backwards, my paws sliding across the damp floor of the alley. I run like never before, my heart pounding in my chest.
He follows me, too fast for something so big.
I feel its claws tearing into my back and I scream — a high-pitched, painful meow that echoes through the night. The pain is excruciating, burning like fire, spreading through my body in cruel waves. My body almost gives way, but I force myself to keep going.
I leave the alley, turning onto the street, and in a quick glance behind me, I see that it is now moving on all fours, its long limbs bent grotesquely, like a deformed spider, advancing right behind me.
My back burns as blood flows hot from the wounds. Then another blow hits me, this time on my hind leg, tearing tendons and muscles. I collapse, rolling on the cold ground, and in that instant, he is on top of me.
His mouth opens, revealing rows of sharp, rotten teeth, full of pieces of flesh.
No! I'm not going to die here.
Gathering all the energy I have left, I punch hard at the invisible barrier blocking my essence, my claws leaving cracks in the surface . The door does not give way, but something in it breaks—small, but enough for my healing power to escape.
All shape-shifting cats have seven lives in their supernatural essence.
I consume so much energy for healing that I sacrifice one of my extra lives, feeling intense heat run through my body, restoring my strength as a part of me fades away.
Before the teeth reach me, I twist and escape between its arms and legs. The monster lets out a hiss of surprise, spins quickly to reach me, and stretches out an arm, its claws tearing my skin once more.
Another roar of pain. Another life is consumed.
I feel the flesh and bones mending, the pain subsiding, and with one push, I leap onto a wall, desperate to gain distance.
It follows me, climbing the surface with terrifying ease.
Its arms are long, and when its claws slide down my spine for the third time, tearing deeply into my skin, I know I cannot hold out much longer.
I have consumed every last drop of my healing essence, and now my wounds remain open, healing at a painfully slow pace.
I jump another wall, landing on the street behind with an impact that almost knocks the wind out of me. But I force myself to keep going. I can't stop. I can't look back.
His scent is too close, suffocating, as if death were already brushing my neck with cold fingers.
The street lights fade into the distance, swallowed by the distance, and my mind fixates on the only chance I have: the forest. It looms ahead, a dark wall of tall trees that seem to whisper promises of shelter and danger at the same time.
With one last desperate leap, I throw myself over the fence, my paws sinking into the damp earth.
The smell of leaves and mud envelops me, momentarily drowning out the smell of my own blood.
But the feeling of safety is short-lived.
The sound of heavy, brutal footsteps echoes behind me, crushing branches and leaves like a terrifying warning.
My mind screams for me to keep going, but my body is in tatters. My breath is a trembling, faltering sigh, and every movement is a sacrifice. My body screams in agony as I run, leaving a trail of blood that insists on giving me away.
It is close.
I can feel his presence, monstrous and bloodthirsty, on my trail, like a relentless shadow devouring my last strength.
I am empty and weak, closer to the end than I have ever been.
All I am is torn flesh, cold bones, and a heart that struggles to keep beating.
Each step is a challenge to death itself, a desperate game in which the prize may be just one more breath, but I insist on bargaining with luck, even though I know it has already turned its back on me.
I keep running. I don't know how. I don't know where I get the strength.
I slide between the trees, rolling through the mud, trying to erase any trace of my scent.
The monster seems to be distancing itself, I think I've thrown it off the scent enough, but that doesn't give me peace.
I need to keep going. I need to survive.
When I feel my strength is at an end and that I will collapse right there, exposed and vulnerable, my eyes catch a glimpse of hope. Just ahead is a towering tree with sturdy, intertwined roots, forming a precarious refuge.
There is no time to hesitate.
My body, exhausted and torn by pain, almost gives way. I force the last drop of energy I have left and throw myself between the roots, curling up like a creature on the verge of death, seeking shelter, the last vestige of safety.
The cold earth moulds itself to my body, leaves stick to my skin. I am freezing, but it does not matter. Nothing else matters but surviving, taking one more breath and then another and another...
The pain finally disappears. Not because it has passed, but because I have been overcome by numbness. A deep cold consumes my bones, my soul. My heart beats weakly, as if hesitating to continue.
By the stars and Mother Moon, let me survive this night...
It is the last thought I have before everything goes black.
I don't know how long I lie there, suspended on the threshold between life and death.
Perhaps seconds, perhaps hours.
But a noise cuts through the silence, bringing me back to my senses.
Branches snap under firm footsteps. Heavy. Each step is a sentence, an omen of danger or, perhaps, a last breath of hope.
Fear is like a shock, forcing my previously weak heart to race. I try to move, but my body does not respond.
My eyelids open with difficulty.
Then I see him.
He emerges from among the trees, bathed in the silver light of the moon, imposing and relentless, as if the forest itself bows down to him.
His presence fills the space, stifling any thoughts, and all I can do is stare at him, thinking of nothing else but who he is and what that means to me.
In the next second, he reaches me.
"There you are..."
My heart races and a faint meow escapes when his huge, animalistic hands touch my skin.
Then, once again, I lose consciousness.