Dreaming of horrible deaths that Evil Cat inflicted on his victims during the last journey around the earth, he purred. His mewling sounded like an echo chamber; the sounds came back to him, but in confusing patterns and different timbres. His eyesight was blurry. He felt his perceptions must be suspect, because he saw multiple images, all matching the concept of what he thought he was. Memories of where Evil Cat had come from told him he was huge, hard, powerful and ferocious; this lump of mewling softness could only mean he was now a kitten.
The ignominy of demotion was too much to bear. Wasn’t Evil Cat zealous to his purpose? Hadn’t he killed with enough courage and intent, that now he had to suffer the long wait, growing into the killing machine he is? How horrible.
Distressed by his new position in life, the kitten, the Kitten Evil Cat, the Kitten Evil Cat, wandered away from the birthing spot his mother had chosen. They were high up, safe from predators. There was a warm wall of steel that protected the kittens from cold winds, perhaps his mother was a good provider; but he needed time to consider his future course. Evil Cat padded away to a cave, covered in mesh, sticking up from a roof and he laid down.
Unknown to the cat, the place he chose to rest was death in waiting. The vent for a gas-fired water heater. When a young couple came back to the rustic cabin they had rented for the weekend, they crossed the threshold in a frantic embrace. Their love for each other growing. Their lust for each other exploding. The pair stripped off their clothing and dragged each other into the shower, to become clean, so that the sweat they would be covered in later, would be the smell of each other and not the hard day’s hiking they had enjoyed.
A pair of young lovers fell on a bed in an arduous embrace for the last time. They napped. The water heater cycled through to warm the tank and replace the water they used with their wet lovemaking. Evil Cat never awoke from his nap, it was warm and dry, and soon the fumes suffocated him. Relaxing in death his body completely covered the vent, stopping the flow of carbon dioxide escaping the cabin. A couple of hours after he died, the young lovers died in their sleep as well.
Even as a nearly new born, Evil Cat was lethal.
About The Author
Paul Block lives in a small town about an hour and a half west of Chicago. In 2010, he was a transport driver (gasoline hauler), but lost his job due to chronic glaucoma. By the end of 2011, he admitted he could no longer drive a car. In 2012 he even had to give up his bicycle.
Fortunately, he can still read and see a computer screen, but life became a living nightmare of home imprisonment. As his world shrank, he decided to try writing. Now his world is as vast as time and space itself in books and story telling.