My take on an old classic.

Fur of Darkness

A short story of adventure and terror.

By Daniel Warschun

Several months ago I embarked on an expedition to the living room, in attempt to acquire photographic proof of the existence of the wily, and elusive, Felis Catus (also known as The Crabby Cat). Much to my own chagrin however the expedition proved quite costly, and ultimately ended in pain and suffering.

The excursion was fraught with peril, and many long minutes of searching beneath the numerous pieces of furniture (braving the cobwebs, dust bunnies, and other horrors to unspeakable to mention). Finally I happened up on my query. The mere sight made the catch my breath. For there she was; sprawled on the living room rug, napping. I hesitated. I'd not expected her to be so imposing, and for a moment I was indecisive about how to proceed. In my research I had read that it is most unwise to approach the Felis Catus whilst she is asleep, as all others who attempted do so had met with an untimely end, or otherwise disappeared without a trace. However, I decided I had come too far to turn back now. And against my better judgment I decided to proceed, cautiously.

I crept up on her quiet as a mouse. I've since learned that this was a poor move on my part, as mice are apparently a favorite prey of the Felis Catus. She awoke suddenly, and without any warning, fixed her gaze upon me.

I froze. My heart leaped into my throat, and I became paralyzed with fear. For a terrifying moment our eyes met, my very countenance left me, and I soon became filled with a desperate urge to flee for my life!

Alas, to no avail. She seized me by my camera strap, and proceeded to twist it around my neck!

Then, sinking her fangs into the strap, she began to choke me with it. It is not clear to me if this is a common hunting technique used by the Felis Catus, as there are no other reports with which to substantiate the commonality of this occurrence.

Somehow I managed to pull the knife from my belt, and used it to cut away the camera strap. Retrieving my camera, I turned and ran. I knew I could never out run the Felis Catus, so my only alternative was to find a sanctuary. Some place high, where I could hide. Spotting the coffee table, and having her hot on my tail, I knew that was my only chance to survive. I scrambled to the top, again to no avail, as the tabletop proved to be too small to protect my feet.

Her attack was swift, ferocious, and merciless. She worked away at my feet for several minutes. The pain was agonizing, and I could do nothing but hold on and scream.

Before long however, her attack relented. Apparently, the Felis Catus finds human feet to be inedible. I concede this to be my saving grace, as after a moment of rubbing against what was left of my feet, she proceeded to leave me in peace.

Though the physical scars have long since healed, the mental and emotional wounds haunt me to this day. I still have nights when I wake, in a cold sweat, screaming. Even then, when I know I am awake, I'd swear I can still see those eyes peering straight into my soul...

That image, indelibly burned up on my brain, will be with me to my dying day. And I well know my last words, as I see that face:

"The horror... The horror..."