The Hearth Cat

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Review Chain

Submitted: August 19, 2017

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Submitted: August 19, 2017



The old man sobbed into his hands, for the second year in a row. This would happen every night around 8 P.M.

The hearth tabby had grown irate after hearing this, for almost 1,000 days. She was going out of her skull. Lexi perched on the mantle, swaying her tail. 

Suddenly, she turned around sharply, and knocked her tail into the lamp, sending it crashing down below.

The aging, white bearded empath, looked up with blood-shot eyes, "That was my mom's lamp, hon."

Marcus had joined the rectory, but lost his connection with god long ago. He even turned his cross upside-down every night. "Get a clue, man," his friends would say, "This isn't for you."

Marcus had a stack of nudy magazines, and ancient grimoires (books of black magic), under his pillow. He had tried to give them up, but his curiousity got the best of him.

 He picked up his bible, and a naked centerfold fell out.

Lexi hissed, and jumped off the mantle. She swatted Marcus in the face.

"What do you want from me?" he cackled, "I've got liver spots."

He picked up his skull, and crossbones flask, and took a swig of Russian vodka. Marcus swayed to the bathroom. He urinated, while hanging on to the chair.

He must have collapsed, because he found himself covered in his own urine, and vomit. A plume of smoke appeared behind him.

"Welcome back. I am Wadjet, the lion-headed goddess. Is this about a woman?"

Marcus nodded, while trying to shake the fog from his brain.

"Well, you are quite a rare breed; the empath (spiritual psychic.) You hold a great amount of power, however you are not aggressive, or warlike."

Wadjet helped the trembling man to his feet. 

"We live in such a vain culture. I can reward you with your youth, and sexuality."

"Like a lion?" his eyes lit up.

"Yes, what's her name?" the goddess inquired.

"Renee," he said with passion, "What's the catch?"

"You just have to trust me. You must stick your hand into a snake's pit. There are 6 snakes, and only one is poisonous. Just to let you know, if you're bit by the red snake, we do not provide anti-venom. However, if you guess right, you will stay young for 90 years."

"No way!" Marcus crossed his arms.

"How bad do you want her?!" the goddess hissed. "Last chance! I've been more than fair."

Marcus dropped the flask, and nudy pictures he had in his bible. "I'm a fraud. I don't deserve this woman. I abandoned her for a while. Well, O.K."

He went down on one knee, and stuck his wrist into the nest in the tree trunk.  He did not move his hand after the first bite, the second, or the third. He squeezed his eyes shut, and held out his arm. "Check for me."

Wadjet investigated his arm, and gave him an A O.K. The goddess motioned toward an archway. The steps were slippery, and covered with ivy. On the top, was Renee, in her wedding dress, calling for him.


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