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Short stories: Cats

by Daniel Xiao Wang

Created on: October 08, 2009   Last Updated: November 03, 2009

I have always hated cats. At times I considered them as bad as demons. So I probably shouldn't have been surprised, they don't care any more for me than I do for them.

I pulled my old beat up Carolla into my prefered parking space around back behind the coffee shop. Many of the patrons would joke that this particular spot was reserved for me and that I should have my name engraved here. I didn't argue.

I came to this coffee shop nearly every day, sometimes multiple times a day, and for several hours a day. I loved the ambiance. I loved the people I met here. I loved... the coffee.

I dressed too warmly for this southern Florida heat. Even late as it was the heat was unbearable. But I was in one of those moods and dressed in my hunting clothes. The soles of my thick leather boots echoed though the dark hallway as I made my way to the shop. The hallway was not long, and normally it was a busy walkway, but being Monday there just wasn't a lot of commotion tonight.

So I was surprised to hear that more than just my footsteps where echoing in the hallway. Being the hunter that I was, I was always alert to unexplained noises, strange people, and weird feelings. I didn't want to seem to obvious, so I turned slowly.

There was no one else in the hallway. I made my way cautiously back the way I had come. That's when I noticed the cat.

She lay perfectly still near the entrance to the hallway, those golden orbs that were her eyes were trained on me. She was completely black, blending into the darkness.

As I stepped closer she made no attempt to flee. "Probably a pet" I muttered.

I reached my hand toward her and still she didn't move. Just as I was about to reach her she swatted violently at my hand, her claws ripping four deep scratches on the top of my left hand. Blood quickly pooling into the little trails.

I whipped my hand back from her, and still she did not flee. I cursed under my breath and decided to just go to the coffee shop. I could wash my hands and look for a bandage there.

I walked back into the hallway but stopped abruptly- I could here the footfalls behind me again.

I turned around quickly this time, and in the darkness could see those golden orbs staring at me. Steadily, unblinking, the cat unmoving. I pulled my vest a little closer, suddenly feeling quite chilly. My hand reached instinctively for my gun.

How could I even think of shooting a cat in the hallway between a commercial development with people nearby?

My injured hand felt like it was burning in

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