t waits…for payment.

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

The estate of Hollowmere in Langsville was quiet–but whispers often broke the silence. So did —

Cats.

A black cat that watched walls. 

Hushed rumours surrounded Shadow, a black feline whose presence crept up on souls near the end of their time. 

It didn’t sear with its claws–it signalled. 

Calling for them to cross the inevitable bridge. 

To a shunned, inevitable fate. 

Dr. Elara Vines had retreated to the quirky county for a little reprieve–to escape scrutinizing eyes after a botched experiment.

On pets–she had wanted to see how long they would survive without owners.

But whispers stalked her–too furtively. 

Her professional explanation? Erratic human psyche.

But it could explain only so much-the cat had made its selection. 

And she, Elara, was the chosen. 

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

The soft murmuring didn’t do much to scare the workaholic in Elara–her lab was a haven for research notes and digitized scientific data. 

Then they–

Disappeared. Becoming–

Cats. Or unexplained, random sketches of them, lining the walls. 

Those same walls throbbed, breathing with a sure, yet petrifying rhythm as she lay in bed, tossing–fear stabbed in an uneven, broken rhythm. 

And she was too aware of its presence. 

Black. 

Svelte. 

Cryptic. 

Too quiet. 

She saw its reflection in her mirror each evening, each time drawing closer–

And closer. 

Its reflection smiled–Cheshire. Mocking. 

The wallpaper moved–and changed–beneath her fingers. 

Hollowmere had to pay its dues–and the cat was waiting. 

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

The cat was starting to grate at–and scare–the typically stoic Elara. 

That the cat could literally make its presence felt—gnawed at her scientific nerves. 

She began to search for the source of its reflection–with chiseled knocks on the wall.

Hoping to find something–anything hidden within the walls that would explain the feline presence. 

Seven days of chiseling–and a crack.

It widened.

Becoming a space for her small frame. 

She stepped in…

To sheer morbidity. 

Rotten remains clutching–

A cat’s smiling skeleton. 

Then, it stepped in. 

Stealthy. 

Silent. 

Its shadow—

Parted from its body. 

Becoming the silhouette.

A woman’s.

Along with sheer fear was stark realisation. 

Elara had fed the cat.

Not with food, but with remorse.

Guilt.

Of her failed experiment. 

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

A few months later, a discovery by the home’s new tenants. 

A closing journal entry–

In Elara’s unsteady hand. 

“The cat’s aware. It waits for payment.”

The manor’s landlord made it available for rent again–

It stayed clean.

Quiet.

Empty. 

Except for something–

Svelte. 

Black. 

Eyes glaring with knowledge. 

Glowing with want. 

Some cats never forget. 

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

If you like this story, do join me on Patreon! Buy this blog a coffee — it keeps the words flowing and the lights Your kind donation via Paypal would be greatly appreciated!

Please find a book of my horror microfiction, Echoes in the Dark, free for download here.