Mist and Smoke

Riding home on the bus tonight, I felt his eyes on me. I knew it was him, even before I glanced around the seats at my fellow passengers. Seeing him sitting on the little old woman's lap 4 benches back was no surprise. I wasn't even surprised that she was seemingly unaware of his weight on her legs. Nothing this black abomination did surprised me anymore.

You may think I'm a little harsh calling him an abomination. Normally, I'd say you were right, but this isn't any normal cat. This cat has been sent to torment me by Lucifer himself, for the rest of my days. Oh, I can hear you now: "Sadie, you're overreacting, being dramatic. He's just a simple, ordinary black Tom cat." All I can ask is that you hear me out before you make up your mind completely.

I first noticed the cat 2 months ago, when I was in Statin's Landing cemetery late one night. My fiance, David, and I'd been having some problems at the time, and I couldn't sleep, so I was out roaming the neighborhood. I remember thinking that everything was going to get better come morning. Oh how wrong I was. So wrong.

It was foggy that night, as it is so often in peaceful Statin's Landing. I was enjoying the night sounds. Crickets chirping. Frogs croaking. The sound of the waves in the port. I really wasn't paying too much attention when I noticed the cat sitting on the rock fence surrounding the cemetery.

He seemingly materialized out of the fog, just 6 feet from where I was standing. A beautiful Tom, with a proud profile. Bigger than most cats, he gave me a start. When I gasped in surprise at his sudden appearance, he turned his head and blinked his eyes. One blue and one blood orange, demon eyes. Opening his mouth, I thought he was going to meow at me. Instead, an odd Tsk Tsk-ing issued from him.

Hurrying home, I soon convinced myself I'd imagined the evil I had seen in the cat's eyes. I talked myself into believing the horrible Tsk-ing noise was a pneumatic hiss coming from a sick stray cat. If I only knew then what I know now. Hindsight is 20/20, they say, and I'd tell you they are right.

Over the next couple of weeks, I felt eyes watching me but never could see who or what it was. I'd randomly hear Tsk Tsk as I was working, watching TV, or ordering from Burger & Fish Shack down at the Port. No one else would admit to hearing the sound when I asked. It seemed to only be on a wavelength I could pick up on.

Then one day, I noticed the cat sitting outside my window. Its stare was making me uncomfortable. I opened the window to shoo the cat away. Leery of what the cat would do, I threw my water at it. The cat just sat there, dry as day. It shook its head at me, Tsk Tsk-ed, and disappeared in a swirl of smoke. (Yes, I can hear you. "Yeah, right. Sure it did. Sure.")

I started seeing and hearing this cat more and more. Eventually, it was daily. Everyday. I soon stopped asking anyone if they could see him or even hear his awful noise. I was becoming a nervous wreck, all thanks to Lucifer's pet demon. I was distracted beyond any sane person's reason. I started calling in sick to work, canceling appointments. I even stopped returning anyone's calls.

I wish I could say that's all there was to it. That my feeling of foreboding and my fear was all for naught. I wish I could, but I can't. Oh, no, it gets much worse. I wish I could say that I didn't deserve what was coming, but I can't. I dread the conclusion of this abominable dance the little terror has been leading me on.

Two days ago, he moved in with me and doesn't seem inclined to leave anytime soon. He isn't getting too close to me, always keeping a wide berth between us. If I get too close to him, poof, he disappears in smoke to re-materialize across the room. I've tried throwing stuff at him, but no matter what I throw (book, shoe, basketball, or knife), it just passes right through him.

He's no longer just Tsk-ing at me. Oh no. Now the monster is saying actual words and sentences. "I seen you", "Aren't you ashamed?", "Did you really think you would get away with it?", "Poor David". I know now there will be no help for me.

I can't eat, sleep, or bathe without him sitting, staring, and judging. He's knocked the radio into the shower with me. Puts mice in my milk. I wake with black cat hair all in my mouth. I am terrified of what comes next.

I know it won't be long. The cat is almost through toying with me.

Epilogue

"I'm glad you guys are here. The smell coming from 209 is horrible. The other tenets are threatening to move out." Ms. Tillie told the two officers.

Officer Redding and Officer Martinez, exchange a knowing look. The latter takes a bottle of Mentholatum from his pocket and offers it to his partner. Both liberally apply some to their upper lip as they wait for the landlord to open the door to 209.

When the door is open, they go inside. It takes a moment for them to process what they see. Food is thrown all over the apartment. Pillows are torn and stuffing is all over. Books are everywhere. Tables overturned. It looks like a huge fight happened here. Short black hairs cover everything.

They precede towards the bedroom, noting all the misplaced, destroyed belongings. At the bedroom door, they look in. Officer Redding, runs to the bathroom and vomits in the commode. He comes back into the hall. Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

"One day you'll get used to this, Jon," Officer Martinez states. He's the senior officer and has seen too much death.

On the bed, is Sadie Brookes. Her eyes are wide open and staring. Staring blankly. Her face was frozen in fear and her eyes bulged from their sockets. Her mouth and nose are full of short black hair. She has claw marks on both her cheeks. Beside her on the bed was a sealed envelope. On the envelope was written OPEN UPON DEATH.

"Ugh, Tony, look at this," Redding tells his partner.

Martinez turns and sees that Redding is looking at something on the dresser. He goes to see what interests his partner so much. On the dresser is a mouse on top of a note with bloody paw prints:

David Todds

C/O Daryl Hoyt

Lot 763902B

22349 Church Street

Sincerely,

Justice