Fur-miliar Felines
Page 13
“But it was too late now. That was how the rumors at the school started.” Clyde-beast smiled.
“When I heard from my brethren, the few of us that are left, what was happening, I thought it was time for me to relocate. Why not, right? Do you know how easy it is to become a substitute teacher? Obtaining a certificate that says you are qualified to mold young minds is easier than getting a library card.” He laughed that thick, foamy laugh again. “As a substitute teacher, I had access to all of them. Each and every child in the area followed me like the Pied Piper. It was almost shameful the way they’d vie for my attention. I could devour seven, eight, maybe even nine of them before the Winter Solstice was over, and I’d be satiated until the following year. The case would run cold. The police would forget details, be transferred, retire, quit. Each year when my killings started, it would be like a whole new ball of wax for the local police. They’d never catch me. They hadn’t so far.”
“How did you get Mr. Wayne to commit suicide? He obviously was not quite like you,” I spat.
“He didn’t commit suicide.” The Clyde-beast disappeared in front of my eyes then reappeared almost instantly. “It was so easy to make it look that way. I killed the Lyle boy and some girl and left their bodies where the police would naturally put two and two together. Suicide was the only way to get them to stop investigating. And they did.”
“But you didn’t expect us,” I hissed. Blinking, I tried to focus and saw a simmering hatred immediately turn into a rolling boil.
“When I discovered Mr. Wayne had been living in the same town as Greenstones, as the tainted bloodline that thought it had gotten rid of my kind, well, let’s just say I was perturbed.”
The Clyde-beast reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair. Before he yanked me to my feet, I picked out a tiny shard of green glass from a broken bottle and cupped it in my limp hand as my good arm slapped on top of his bony fingers in an attempt to relax the pain. It didn’t work.
“He knew who you were but did nothing. He even ate your food. Visited your business. He could have slaughtered you all in mere seconds and escaped easily. But he obviously enjoyed his human skin more than his true form. Disgusting!” The Clyde-beast spat the words in my ear, and I could feel his hot breath on my cheek and detected the smell of rotting meat there, too.
“So not all of you creatures are evil. Just the ones that smell like you? That hot-garbage smell? Is that it? Well, I know I might not make it, but I can tell you one thing for sure.” I dug my nails into his claw and leaned forward as best I could, looking the creature in its feverish eyes. “Neither will you.”
With pain so intense I was afraid I might pass out, I lifted my busted-up arm and pierced the fleshy part of the Clyde-beast’s hand. He threw his head back in pain, howling like… well, like a wounded cat, releasing my hair and once again dropping me to the ground.
Except this time I didn’t land on my elbow. I landed on my feet, albeit awkwardly, and tumbled backward, landing on a pile of garbage bags. Thankfully, they were tied shut, as whatever was inside them felt gushy, as if it was in between turning from a solid to a liquid.
The Clyde-beast grasped its injured hand and scowled at me as it proceeded to continue its grotesque transformation. It was no longer the Clyde-beast. It was now The Beast.
Lair
Aunt Astrid’s description of the giant hairless cat failed to really capture not just the immensity of the monster, but also the diabolical aura around it. I held my breath as it waved its hands, muttering some words human ears were never meant to hear.
The air around me became heavy. I was still breathing, but I felt as if I were underwater. The snowflakes that had been falling stopped in midair. The sounds of the busy street just outside the open mouth of the alley had ceased.
I was alone, and my heartbeat was the only sound I could hear. My mouth was totally dry, and I was hot and cold beneath my coat.
“You’ll pay for that!” it cried out. “But don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you. Not yet. I’ll give you a chance to say good-bye to your family. You’ll watch me tear them apart piece by piece. Only after you’ve heard them beg for their lives, after you’ve seen madness from the agony consume them, will you finally be released from this plane of existence. And I will go on.”
The Beast lunged at me, but before its long arms could get ahold of me, my hero jumped in front of him, ready for battle.
“You talk too much,” Treacle said, his fur on end, his eyes narrow and sparkling and his claws extended.
“You again. I knew I’d see you, but I was sure it would be long after your master was trampled under my feet.” The Beast spoke with Treacle, unaware that I could hear it.
Treacle was not even a third the size of the Beast, yet he looked his equal. His black coat glistened with a healthy, strong glow compared to the sickly hue of the skin on the monster. My cat was fully alive with an excited, beating heart and a sharp mind that wouldn’t be taken in by this devil.
“You don’t really think you can stop me,” the Beast hissed as it slowly began to arch its back. “But I’ll tell you what. I’ll let her live if you join me.”
“Join you?” Treacle crossed his right front paw over his left as he slowly circled to the right.
“Imagine it,” the Beast meowed. “Having the power to come and go as you please not only in this world, but in a thousand more. You’ll be feared and worshipped. Sacrifices will be made to you, and when they aren’t, you’ll be able to feed on the nonbelievers. Like here in this place.”
Treacle took a step back.
“Yes. Think about it,” the Beast continued. “I’ll let her live if you join me. Together, we’ll sacrifice the other Greenstones, and this one can live knowing it was due to you she was spared.”
Treacle looked back at me.
“You really do talk too much. Marshmallow! PB! We’re down here!”
“Where are they?” I asked telepathically.
“Oh, they’re not far and they’re ready to fight.”
“What? You tricked me!” The hairless cat snarled furiously.
“I heard you all this time. What did you think? I was a Greenstone without any powers?” I got to my feet.
There was movement out of the corner of my eye. It was the rest of the cavalry.
Marshmallow and Peanut Butter bolted down the alley and stopped behind Treacle. I had never seen Peanut Butter so furious as he was just then. Hissing and clawing at the ground, he was ready for battle.
Then I gasped as Aunt Astrid and Bea brought up the rear. My aunt was holding open a book that looked as if the pages had been sprinkled with rusty water. The words were Celtic in nature—at least I thought they were.
As she came to my side, the hairless beast hissed and swiped at all of us. Its eyes glowed with anger and revenge. Waving its arms again, choking out more horrible-sounding words, it arched its back as if it was getting ready to pounce on all of us.
I looked at my aunt, whose eyes had grown wide.
“What is it?” I cried.
“He’s opened another portal. The one to his lair,” she muttered, her eyes focusing with determination. “Let’s shut that once and for all.”
The Beast took a swipe in our direction, just missing me.
Treacle cried out, and all three cats jumped at the Beast, clinging to its naked skin with their thin, needlelike claws and sinking their teeth into the flesh. The Beast cried out in agony. Bea slipped by, stepping on the garbage bags that had broken my fall, and linked her arm with mine as she stood up straight and watched as our cats fought for the precious moments needed for my aunt to read.
“How did you know to come?” I asked, never taking my eyes off the hissing monster as it whipped its tail and clawed at the cats. They managed to stay in spots it couldn’t reach. But I saw Treacle inching his way toward the thing’s neck.
“Treacle! Be careful!” I screamed without saying a word out loud.
As if on cue, the hairle
ss cat reached up and tried to grab him by the head.
I screamed.
“Dul amach! Dul ar shiul! Powers of the universe make it so! Dul amach! Dul ar shiul!” My aunt stood straight and still as she stared down the monster, which twisted and contorted as our pets continued to cling to its skin. By now, trails of blood were dripping down its skin, turning its sickly-pink color a disturbing blotchy red mess.
We all stood there and waited.
“What’s supposed to happen?” I asked.
“He’s supposed to shrivel up and die,” Bea replied.
“I’m not seeing any additional wrinkles to indicate he’s shriveling,” I whined. “Aunt Astrid, I don’t think he’s shriveling.” My voice trembled.
Quickly, my aunt looked down at her book.
“I don’t know what’s wrong.” Her fingers slid down the passage. Her eyes scanned the words as she looked for something, but she didn’t know what. “This should have worked.”
The hairless cat began to laugh. Through the torturous bites and scratching from our familiars, it laughed and stood up on its hind legs, shaking its body until Peanut Butter and Marshmallow went flying in opposite directions. Treacle held fast.
I stared in terror as the beast grinned at me.
“I won’t kill him,” he taunted me. “I’ll just make him my slave.”
“No!” I screamed out loud as the Beast easily pulled Treacle off his neck with his viselike claws and held him dangling helplessly in the air.
I saw the kitten I had adopted all those years ago. My eyes filled with tears, and I barely heard myself as I begged he not hurt my cat. I offered my soul, my body, everything as Bea held me back from approaching too close to this creature that couldn’t be trusted. “Don’t hurt him! Please don’t hurt him!”
“Don’t worry. He’ll learn to serve with three legs,” it mocked me then laughed at me as I screamed.
I was snapped out of my terror by the sound of a gunshot.
Clyde Tumble, aka The Beast, let out a horrific shriek of pain and anger as he dropped Treacle and clutched at the wound in his heart.
Aunt Astrid, Bea, and I turned in the direction of the flash and bang and saw Tom leaning against the brick wall of the building behind us, his face streaked with blood and his left arm bent against his stomach. His right arm remained stiff and straight in front of him, holding the gun.
Quickly, my aunt looked down at her pages and yelped a eureka.
“Dul amach! Dul ar shiul! Dul amach! Dul ar shiul! Powers of the universe make it so! Dul amach! Dul ar shiul!”
At that moment, the monster began to transform again. It melted and contorted from the giant hairless cat to Clyde Tumble to a shimmering, clear blob, then back again.
The molting became so quick that it began to blend the bodies together into a grotesque abomination until finally it froze in one agonizing grimace with only its eyes moving. They seethed with hatred as Bea approached, her hands extended while she mouthed an ancient invocation that would release the creature’s soul from its sick and twisted body.
Treacle had landed on his feet, but he was shaking and sneezing. I scooped him up.
Bea continued her chant as Aunt Astrid repeated her mantra as well.
I noticed movement down the alley, and as I focused, I saw the glinting green and yellow and red eyes of over a dozen stray cats carefully padding their way toward the spectacle that was taking place.
“I thought we might need backup,” Treacle purred then jumped from my arms.
“We sure could,” I replied. Then I raised my hands and recited my own incantation to bind the monster to one form.
“The cat went here and there, and the moon twirled round like a top, and the nearest kinfolk of the moon, the slinking cat, looked up.”
The skin of what had been Clyde Tumble turned rough as if it were drying out. What had before been a terrifyingly gross hairless cat began to shrivel and dry up like a worm left struggling on hot pavement after rain.
Treacle and his friends, including Marshmallow and Peanut Butter, encircled the creature, and as it tried to flee, it was bitterly cut off by their fierce hisses and extended claws. It continued to fold in on itself, but none of us thought for a moment that it wasn’t going to try one more stunt.
Bea ran to her mother, and from somewhere inside the folds of my aunt’s billowing coat, she pulled out a bag of salt. Quickly, she sprinkled it just in front of all the cats, making sure they did not get trapped in the sacred circle with it. It would have meant a painful and long death if any of them were to get trapped with the Beast.
The only problem was that as each cat stepped aside for the salt to be poured, the giant cat tried to slink through the opening, which was becoming narrower by the second.
“Careful, Bea!” I shouted as one of those giant claws took a swipe, catching Bea’s coat with the tiniest razor point of its claw.
Guardians
Thinking as quickly as I could under these circumstances, I looked behind me and spring-heeled over the garbage bags to get a two-by-four. Before fear or common sense could enter into my mind, I swung the wood as if I were taking a golf swing and not only released Bea from its slimy, deadly grasp, but also felt the bony fingers crack like dried acorns.
The monster howled in agony. Its black-and-yellow eyes narrowed at me, but as it leaned back on its haunches as if it was getting ready to pounce on me, it folded even further in on itself. It hissed, swiping at us all as though we were tiny gnats swarming around its head.
Finally, Bea completed the circle, the cats took their places, sitting nobly like guardians, and we all watched as Clyde Tumble-giant-hairless-cat-invisible-demon burst into flames. Its arms and legs and tail curled up onto themselves, and its head rolled and snapped back and forth before it disappeared in a rather small pop of embers.
The snowflakes began to fall like normal again. The sounds of the busy streets and Christmas music could be heard from the ends of the alley. Treacle, Marshmallow, and Peanut Butter nuzzled each other before Treacle made the rounds to each stray and outdoor cat that had made it to the event.
“I don’t know how to thank you all,” I said to the small army of felines. “We probably wouldn’t have succeeded if you hadn’t shown up.”
“We know who you are, Greenstone. It’s what we’re here for,” one especially large gray-striped shorthair cat replied to me. He had one bad eye, and I could see several bites had been taken from his ears. His feet were dirty. Without saying another word, he and the other cats slinked away in all directions, blending into the shadows to continue their evening prowl. I looked down at Treacle, who leaned against my leg.
“My gosh.” I held back tears. “I’ll carry you home.”
“I think you have someone else who needs your help more.” Treacle pushed his head hard against my leg then trotted over to Tom, who was leaning against the brick wall, the gun still in his hand, still not believing what his eyes had just seen.
“Bea.” I clutched my cousin’s arm. She was staring at the charred ashes that were all that remained in the center of the circle of salt.
“I wondered why that man would never come into the café,” Aunt Astrid spat with disgust. “The night he appeared as the cat, I had sprinkled salt all around. It was still there. I left it, just a very thin trail, and it was enough to keep him out. I should have pieced that together sooner.”
“Bea, please.” I gently pulled her sleeve. “Tom is hurt.”
Bea snapped out of her trance and looked at me. I pointed in his direction. Without a word, Bea went over to him.
“Tom, are you all right?” she asked kindly. I stood behind her with Treacle at my feet. Both Marshmallow and Peanut Butter stood on either side of my aunt like brave little guardians.
“I don’t know,” he replied. He didn’t look at me. He sort of stared around randomly. I knew that look. I’d seen it before. My heart cracked on the inside, but I kept my face brave and serious.
“He’s
going to be okay, isn’t he?” Treacle asked me.
“I think he’ll recover from this. Yes. But we probably won’t be seeing too much of him anymore.” I watched as Tom reluctantly let Bea push and pull the air around his head, moving and adjusting things he couldn’t see.
“There you are,” Bea muttered forcefully. “Time to go.” She put her hand firmly on Tom’s shoulder and, with a sudden snap, altered his aura in order to let the energy flow and allow proper healing to start. “You should still go to the emergency room. You’ll want them to check your head. I don’t see any energy blockages, but you might have a concussion.”
“You think?”
“I’ll go with you, if you want,” I offered.
“No.” He looked at me sadly. “You should take Treacle home. I’ll be fine.”
I nodded as if I agreed that was the best idea, but inside, all I could feel were those words bouncing around inside my head, hollow. Did he think I was serious when I was talking to him in front of Clyde Tumble? He had to know I was just saying those things to get him out of there. It was all to keep him safe. He had to know that, right?
“Will you call me and let me know what the doctor tells you?” I was almost pleading.
“He’ll let us know,” Aunt Astrid interjected sternly.
The look on her face was the same look I often got when I suggested she let me cast a spell on Darla Castellan so that she’d develop a severe case of warts or maybe a pug nose. I wasn’t sure what that was about, but it made me think that she had seen something in the near future that she didn’t like. I could guess. I was getting dumped. Again.
We all went back to my house, and I put on some coffee, opened a bag of potato chips, pulled out some French onion dip from the fridge, and placed everything on my kitchen table.
“What a night.” I sighed, flopping down in my seat, and watched Treacle, Marshmallow, and Peanut Butter make a beeline for my bedroom and cozy up to each other on my bed. Within seconds, they were asleep. “How did you guys know where I was?”