Unbridled Vengeance

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

After their relationship ends, a man decides to take out his cruel revenge against his ex-girlfriend. He winds up unleashing a new brand of vengeance that he never expected...

Unbridled Vengeance

September, 2018

Los Angeles, California


 

I could tell they were very angry with me, both her father and older brother. If she wasn't there, the two men probably would have been even more threatening, would have most likely been physically violent with me, though I couldn't say why. I can't even begin to comprehend being so angry with someone for simply loving your daughter, or your sister, too much.

For this is what this all basically breaks down into. Too much love. I can't stop thinking about said daughter and sister of these two, I'm unable to leave her alone or be away from her. She haunts me during the day, dominates my dreams while I sleep and I can hardly stand the idea of not seeing her, even for a moment, so they hate me for it. Is that any reason to dislike someone?

Marisol broke it down, explained it all to me. She told me she didn't want to see me anymore, told me that she didn't love me in return, the way that I loved her, and that I was to leave her alone or she would call the police to file a restraining order against me. As you can imagine, this all hit me like a ton of bricks. I was blindsided, as if suddenly struck by a drunken driver while motoring along without a care in the world.

Marisol accused me of being a stalker.

How utterly ridiculous. A stalker is someone who admires another from afar, following them around, making them uncomfortable. A stalker goes through the object of desire's trash, spies on them through windows, even attempting to gain unwelcome entry into their homes. I don't do any of those things. How could I be a stalker?

In fact, I was in a relationship with the object of my desire, up until just a few moments ago. We had been in love at one time, shared our beds, had meals together, talked about moving in with one another. Apparently, she just wasn't as in love with me as I was with her.

Marisol, my love, is the most beautiful woman that I have ever been involved with. She is a yoga instructor with perfectly sculpted body. She is strong and vibrant. Her hair is like a raven's wing, her mouth the bud of a rose, her skin is like caramel and her eyes like axinite. The love we made together, was the best I have ever had. She was the stars in my sky, the light at the end of my tunnel.

Even now, standing on her porch with my back to her house, having just left or, more accurately, been forcibly asked to leave, I can remember her scent, her taste and see her naked perfection whenever I close my eyes.

It will be difficult to forget her, to say the least.

I hear the tinkling little bell as Marisol's cat darted from underneath her father's truck to bushes lining the front yard. Marisol's kitty is named Precious. She's a fluffy gray cat, adorable, with large green eyes and a tiny pink nose. Because of the fluffiness around her face, Precious more resembles a gray teddy bear rather than a cat. Her collar is red with the tiniest silver bell hanging from it. The tiny bell worked as an alarm for the neighborhood birds. Precious had killed too many of the winged creatures in the yard, so that Marisol fitted the miniature bell around Precious' neck as a way to warn her feathered victims of the hunter's presence.

I guess I would never see Precious again either, now that Marisol and I were through.

Marisol dominates my dreams. She occupies my waking thoughts. I see her even when she's not there, imagine her next to me in my car while I drive. I hold conversations with her when I am alone, hear her voice with me while I shower. This break up was going to be very difficult for me to deal with.

Thinking about it, perhaps she and her family are right about me. Maybe she hadn't told me that she someday wanted to marry me. All of the whispered sweet nothings could have been imagined by me. Perhaps those intimate conversations had all been made up in my mind. That thought frightens me, not because of the chance that I may suffer from delusions, but because it would mean that all the love Marisol had for me was nothing more than a fantasy in my own mind.

The thought that this was all one big misunderstanding, is so terrifying for me that I begin to shake. The open porch outside of Marisol's house is suddenly too crowded, the air too thin to breathe. I feel lightheaded and I stagger, reaching out and clinging to the railing of the front stairs to steady myself.

Was it really all in my mind? Had I imagine all the laughter, the joy and the intimacy? No. Impossible. I refuse to believe it. I admit that I was confused over certain situations. I will not, however, concede that I was mistaken about the entire relationship. Marisol had been too misleading. She hadn't been forthright enough with me. She had allowed me to control the relationship and then changed her mind. She had pulled the rug right out from under me.

A few moments ago, under the watchful, hateful gaze of her brother and father, I had voiced my protests and my concerns. Marisol had told me she was just being nice and that she didn't want to hurt me. That was her excuse for not being assertive with me; she didn't want to hurt my feelings. What utter bullshit. If Marisol was so concerned about my emotional state, then why dump me in the first place? We could have talked this out, compromised with each other and worked through it all. Our love should have been strong enough to carry us through any problems that we had. I was in love with her, willing to do anything to heal our relationship.

There was only heartache before, only a longing to fix what had been destroyed. When faced with the end of our relationship, I had frantically searched for the rights words, the perfect terms to salvage it. Nothing I said was enough. Marisol was through with me. As I went down the short flight of steps from the front porch to the yard, I felt a new emotion taking over my senses.

Anger.

I felt the overwhelming urge to hurt Marisol. I wanted her to feel the same pain that I was currently feeling. I wished for her to suffer a similar emotional turmoil that was crushing me. Marisol had no reason to end our relationship, especially since I was one hundred percent committed to her. I hadn't so much as looked at another woman, filled my heart with affection and adoration exclusively for her, thought only of her, fantasized of Marisol alone. She was everything to me; I didn't need anyone else.

Despite all I had done, I had been cast away like an unwanted piece of trash. Such an injustice could not go unpunished. I would have my vengeance. If Marisol and her family had been concerned for my behavior before, they were in for a shock. I was about to unleashed a wave of revenge and payback that would drop them all to their knees and send them scurrying in terror.

Precious poked her head out of the bushes as I walked by. The cat had always been very affectionate with me every time I visited Marisol. Even now, I could hear Precious purring at me from the brush, her green eyes staring at me, the cute pink nose sniffing the air. The gray teddy bear came out and rubbed against my legs. I stooped to pet her.

I planned on making problems for Marisol at her job. Not in person. Everything would be done by untraceable emails. I would send emails to her superiors. File complaints, threaten lawsuits, dish out vile accusations against Marisol. The unwanted attention would either get her fired or, at the bare minimum, cause her job to become jeopardized. That was only the first phase of my planned vengeance.

The second phase was public humiliation. Social media was a wonderful way to keep in contact or to track down past friends. It was also the best forum for harassing or embarrassing someone. I would create false accounts to post anonymous photos of Marisol in compromising situations. The best part, was that none of the photos were fake. I had attained them because of my devotion to my beloved. I had nude photos of Marisol in the shower, of her sleeping in leather fetish lingerie, of her engaging in sexual behavior that was sure to ruin her image to her family. Her proud father and brother wouldn't be able to look at her the same way.

Precious continued to purr loudly as I scratched underneath her chin and ran my hand down her soft, fluffy back. She turned and unceasingly rubbed herself against me. She truly was one of the cutest cats I have ever seen.

The third phase would be passive aggressiveness. There would be subtle things that she would notice, in the yard, in her home and in her vehicle. Little incidents that would surely alarm Marisol. These small occurrences would be unnerving, frightening but not so severe that she could involve the police. I would always let her know that I was around, yet never leave her enough evidence to use against me. I would break down Marisol's will, shatter her confidence and punish her until she was reduced to ruin.

The fucking bitch would pay for the pain she had caused me.

I turned toward the house as I crouched down, still petting Precious. Her father was watching me from the living room window. All the rest of the drapes in the home were tightly drawn as if they were plotting against me.

No matter. I would soon be their worst nightmare.

I waved to her father as he scowled at me. Goodbye, Mr. Rosario. No, I'm not doing anything wrong. Just petting the cat before I go. You will not see me here again, I promise.

Her father did not return my wave. He closed the drapes tightly as if dismissing me not only from the property, but from his consciousness as well.

I went to my car and started the engine, slowly backing out of the driveway. I looked at Marisol's house, knowing I would be back soon, without her consent, confident that I would have my revenge. My body was on fire, burning with the need for vengeance.

Precious followed my car out of the driveway. Perhaps the adorable kitty didn't want me to leave just yet. She probably wanted to be petted a little longer. Her eyes flashed in my headlights as I turned out of the driveway and out onto the street. Precious followed my car further, stopping in the middle of the street, gazing at me lovingly with her large green eyes.

Poor dumb cat.

Without giving it a second thought, I floored it and lurched my car toward the unsuspecting kitty.

I could see the gray teddy bear's large eyes in my headlights briefly. She was looking at my vehicle without fear or worry. Normally, cats are very skittish around roads and cars. Precious probably had no idea that I was planning to assault her.

My front tires caught Precious, her lower body was completely crushed under my tires. The cat waited until the very last second to avoid my car, as if refusing to believe that I would actually harm her. Precious' eyes never left mine, until she disappeared from my line of sight and I felt the slight bump under my car. Amazingly, the kitty didn't scream out in pain as I watched her in my side mirror. She just lay there on the road, panting, tongue sticking out, still staring up at me in disbelief.

Sorry, Precious.

There was no turning back now; I was committed. As Precious still stared and panted at me, I threw my car in reverse, glancing around the quiet neighborhood for any onlookers. There were no witnesses in sight so I backed toward the cat to finish her off. Precious' eyes reflected my reverse lights so I aimed my back tires at her head, using her eyes as a target.

Precious struggled once, trying to pull her useless lower body out of the way with her fore paws. She clawed desperately at the asphalt when she realized that I was coming at her again. At the very last second, the cat's eyes met mine through the mirror and we shared a moment of clarity. I was going to kill her.

I felt another small bump underneath my vehicle as I passed over the hapless cat.

There could be no doubt that Precious was now dead.

This was all Marisol's fault. If she hadn't angered me, mistreated our relationship, her cat would be safe from me. Losing her cat Precious was only the first of my evil deeds that Marisol would suffer through. I calmly shifted into drive and quickly left the area.

Driving straight to an automated car wash, my entire body was still burning. My head felt light from the violence I had brought upon her cat. Marisol would find Precious' ruined corpse in the street and she would be devastated by the loss. I felt sorry that Precious had to die too. She had always been a very affectionate cat to me, despite her master's misgivings. It was not the poor animal's fault that Marisol was her owner. If only Precious had belonged to someone else, she would still be alive.

My hunger for vengeance outweighed any sense of guilt.


 

* * *


 

My house was not really a house per say. It had been a commercial storage building that was later converted to a residential plot. The center room of the large building had once been full of old partitions used for cubicles. Broken computers, typewriters and printers had been gathered up and piled high against one of the walls within the main space. The decks and chairs had likewise been stacked up on the other side. The tall partitions had been broken down and stacked high in the center of the room. What was left, was a large room, full of junk, one hundred feet long with double high ceilings and sixty feet wide. There was no way to walk straight through the room because of the alternating stacks of barriers. The old large dock doors were still present and both of them worked, although I kept them padlocked closed with a pricey cut resistant locks.

At the far end of the main room, was my dwelling. The personal offices had been converted to bedrooms, the old employee break room, into a kitchen. There were two restrooms, both much larger than they need to be, at either side of the building. Since the building was only one story, the ceilings had been paneled at one time. I had used drywall to reinforce the ceilings in my living area, which were still sixteen feet high over my head.

Although spacious to a point of feeling cavernous at times, my home was still mine and I was very comfortable living here. Keeping it heated during the winter was tedious and cooling it during the summer was energy gorging. I didn't care. It was mine.

I didn't go directly into the house upon arriving home. Instead of parking in the driveway, I drove my car around to the back where the old alleyway used to be. The city had knocked down the concrete walls to widen the plot as a small backyard so that there was enough room for some grass. Still, my backyard was adjacent to other abandoned commercial buildings so I was struggling with a bit of a vermin problem.

Six glue traps and six snap traps had been set all over the backyard. I had been checking the traps and cleaning out all the dead rodents I caught. Although the casualties were probably approaching one hundred dead rats, their numbers seemed never ending. My traps were always so full that I had to check them three times a day.

The glue traps weren't a problem. Any vermin hapless enough to get caught on them were quickly cannibalized by the others, especially the poor mice. Only blood and fur was usually present on the glue traps. I still had to reapply the bait, a swath of peanut butter in the center of the glue traps.

The snap traps were another story. For some reason, the dead rats I caught in those weren't eaten by the others. The rats must be scared off by the noise or something. I couldn't explain it, but I would rather pull a whole dead rat out of the snap traps than a half eaten one anyway.

The traps were all clear for the first time in a month.

I thought this was very strange and felt a tug of curiosity about it. I shook my head, shrugging off my suspicion. I should be glad. Maybe this was a sign that I was finally winning the war against the damned vermin.

I went inside my house through the backdoor. Although there was an infestation of rodents outside, they had not made their way inside. If I were to find one trace of vermin within my home, I would immediately have it tented. I simply refused to share my abode with their vile filthy kind.

I started a whole pot of coffee brewing. I was going to need it to stay awake late. I had lots of work to do to begin my torment of Marisol. She was in for one a hell of a surprise.

I spent the next few hours on my computer, filing online complaints at the gym where Marisol worked, complaining about her attitude, her tardiness to appointments and her lack of professionalism. There were many different websites used to rate gyms on their staff's performance, so it was pretty easy to start an avalanche against Marisol. It was just very time consuming, especially since I had to create convincing fake profiles for every new complaint.

My work was done. I stretched after doing a good job, took a shower and went right to sleep. I had to be up early for the police, who would no doubt be called on me.

As I slumbered, my dreams were dominated by Marisol. We were happy again, screwing each other's brains out, laughing, kissing and holding hands. I woke up miserable, slapped with the reality that Marisol was no longer mine.

As I had predicted, the police rang my doorbell at 7:30 in the morning asking me about Precious. I feigned shock, appalled that someone could so heartlessly kill such a cute cat and just leave her body in the road. The police checked my car for any signs that I had killed Precious, but my newly washed car presented no evidence. The policemen left after a few minutes.

No doubt Marisol was in shambles. Precious had been cruelly crushed; her once cute face with her little pink nose had been flattened by my tires.

I sat down at my computer again, ready to begin phase two of my plot for revenge. I never felt so alive. My skin was tingling with energy, eagerly awaiting my commencement. Marisol was going to suffer far greater than I had.

From my phone, I transferred all of the candid photos I had taken of Marisol. There was one time when she had a little too much to drink and had passed out on the couch naked. I had spread her legs wide while she lay on her stomach, revealing her ass and womanhood for all to see. I had taken several pictures of her in this pose so I picked the one where Marisol's face was most visible with her exposed privates and posted it on social media, using one of the new fake profiles. I listed her name, address and phone number on the post.

I started searching through the other secret photos I had of Marisol, when I heard the strangest sound. The noise captivated my attention and I immediately stood up from my chair. The reason I was reacting this way, was because the sound was very distinct. I had heard it many times before now but I never thought I would ever hear it again.

It was the tinkling of a tiny bell.

I stormed from my office, opening the metal door which lead from my living area out into the main room. Once the door closed behind me, I froze, straining to hear the sound again.

The piled trash and stacked ruined furniture made it difficult for me to see in any direction more than just a few feet in the main room. I was going to have to walk the makeshift aisles to thoroughly search the spacious area here. I didn't want to yet, because I wasn't even sure if I had truly heard the noise or not.

After a few minutes of silence, I didn't hear the noise again. I shook my head, chuckling to myself. First I worried that I was delusional over Marisol and now I was hearing phantom noises.

What was most curious about the tinkling sound was that it reminded me of the tiny bell that had been around Precious' neck.


 

* * *


 

Night had again fallen by the time I was done with phase two. My back was aching, but I had successfully posted countless nude photos of Marisol. She was exposed in the shower, on the toilet, sleeping, gazing wantonly at me during sex and other humiliating photos of her. She had no idea that I kept such an extensive photo gallery. Initially, I took and kept so many photos of Marisol primarily because I thought she was so beautiful. As lovely and attractive as she was, Marisol belonged on the cover of any men's magazine. She had enchanted me so that I immortalized her in a vast array of photos. Now, my dedication to her was a weapon. Literally hundreds of photos were now swimming in the web, all with her name, address and phone number on each.

I was getting myself something to eat, when I thought I heard the tiny bell again. Like before, the noise sounded like it was coming from the main room. I grabbed a flashlight and went into the massive area, looking for the source.

At night, I must admit, the cavernous room was unnerving. As I shined the powerful flashlight in all the darkest nooks and crannies I could, looking for something I knew was impossible to subsist, I was truly frightened. I didn't dare venture forth into the yawning area. I stayed as close to the entrance of the massive room, shining the light, looking for a phantom cat. Even as I did this, my mind was going haywire, chastising myself for being foolish.

Precious was dead. The bell that I was hearing, was a misidentified source. There was nothing to fear, I told myself.

Turning off the flashlight, I went back into the kitchen and finished making myself a late dinner. Later, as I slept in my bed, Marisol was once again forefront in my dreams. She was mine again, all mine. I woke up just as frustrated as the night before. During my morning shower I once again envisioned her with me, laughing, helping me wash, gazing at me lovingly with her large doe eyes. I tried to ask her why she hurt me, but was rebuffed by her smiles.

It was time for phase three.

I was planning my first move when I received a text from Marisol. I initially ignored it, assuring myself that I was imagining the communication, until she texted me a second time. I retrieved the texts. Marisol's messages were both short, getting right to the point. The first one was simply, 'Stop this'. The second text read, 'please'.

I was getting to her. Without being able to prove anything, she knew that it was I that was causing problems for her at her job. I could hardly wait until men started calling and harassing her for the photos of her online. Perhaps they already had. I grinned to myself.

I didn't bother responding to the texts.

I spent the rest of the day plotting, planning, going over everything that I would do tonight to begin the third phase of my plan. I had kept a secret set of keys to Marisol's house, got a copy of them made after she had given me my own set. I also took her extra electronic key to her car. I was surprised she never missed it. It is amazing how some people don't keep track of their spare set of car keys.

When she had ended our relationship, Marisol had asked me to give back my key to her house. I gave it up willingly, knowing that I already possessed all the copied and spare keys I needed to exact my revenge.

Midnight took forever to arrive.

Marisol worked out early in the morning at the gym, so she went to bed relatively early every night. I was going to sneak into her home and leave her a note wishing her good morning.

Finding the note first thing in the morning would be most upsetting to Marisol for two reasons. The first, was that I was going to leave it near the coffee maker, in plain view on the counter top. She would know it wasn't there when she went to bed the night before. The second reason would be that she would know, upon finding it, that it was left there during the night. Her sense of security would be crushed.

I would then unlock her car and leave a second note for her on the steering wheel. There would be no signs of a break in. She would know that her car had also been compromised. The notes were simple. Not written in my handwriting but clipped from various newspapers which I burned after using. I also wore surgical gloves during the manufacture of the notes. There would be no way to trace them definitively back to me. She would feel helpless and afraid. Marisol would suffer as I broke down her willpower, destroyed her impression of peace and overran her sense of security.

I could hardly wait.

After midnight, I drove my car to Marisol's neighborhood and parked it two blocks away from her house. During the drive, Marisol was with me. She sat, as she always had, in the passenger seat, beautiful, smiling and attentive to the road. When I tried to talk to her, she faded from my sight. I was losing her.

She must pay.

From my car, as silent as a ninja, I made my way to her house, careful to avoid being witnessed. Her house was just as I had last left it. Nothing seemed to have changed. As I went up her driveway, to get into the backyard, I heard the familiar tiny bell ringing.

I was so focused on breaching Marisol's house that I stooped down, without thinking, to pet Precious really quick. When I realized that Precious was dead, I cursed my foolishness and continued on to the backyard. When I passed by Marisol's car, I could swear that I heard a cat purring under the vehicle.

I pushed my curiosity away, not wanting to be distracted from my task. There was no cute fluffy gray cat with the pink nose to pet anymore. Precious was gone. I needed to quit imagining the sound of the bell and expecting Precious to appear. That cat was long gone, an innocent victim of Marisol's selfishness.

I made it to the backdoor without further incident.

Using the house key, I stealthily let myself in. Being inside Marisol's house was very nostalgic for me. Even though it had only been a few days, it may have been a lifetime since I yearned for her so much. Her home was filled with the comfortable temperature, the plush carpets and familiar scents that I so badly missed.

I desired to go deeper into the house, through the living room and down the hall to Marisol's bedroom. I just wanted to see her again, to hear her soft breaths as she slept. To maybe steal one more photo of her angelic face before I left, to catch her scent in my nostrils one more time.

No.

I wasn't in her house to visit. I was seeking revenge. I must not deviate from my plan. I leaned the note carefully against the coffee maker, knowing she would find it first thing in the morning. I made sure to lock the backdoor behind me, that way, she would have no idea how her house had been breached. She would blame me, of course. I had planned on it. I would insist upon my innocent and heatedly deny any involvement.

There was no locksmith for the police to question, for I had created the keys on my own, using an antique key maker that I found in the warehouse area of my home. Of course, I had since sold the item many months ago.

Smirking to myself, I left her house, locked the backdoor and went to her car. I left the second note propped on her steering wheel. Then I locked up her car and left.

I whistled a cheerful tune as I drove home. Marisol didn't show up in the car with me this time. I wasn't bothered by this though. I was already coming to grips with the fact that she was no longer mine. She was not my love anymore; she was not someone for me to cherish. Marisol had become an object for me to torment, to punishment and eventually hate. I believed that in time, even my dreams would reflect this recognition.

My dreams that night were erratic, bouncing from scene to scene, flashing situations before me only to change again very suddenly. I awoke in my bed, the sheets were tangled around me tightly. I could tell that I had been restless during sleep. I was on my stomach, which was seldom a position I slept in. Nevertheless, I was glad to be rid of the craziness that had dominated my slumber. My dreams were confusing, almost frighteningly out of control. To my relief, the strangeness was fading, my awareness of reality was a welcome sensation, as my bedroom came into focus.

I wanted to turn on my bedside lamp except that my arm wouldn't move for some reason! No matter how much I tried, my limb remained unresponsive, as if it wasn't attached to my body. Had my arm fallen asleep during my slumber in this unfamiliar position? I tried to move my other arm then my legs to no avail. I couldn't even turn my head away from the edge of the bed. I was stuck looking down at the carpet. What was happening?

My entire body was paralyzed. I was dizzy with fearful panic.

The only movements I had control of was my eyes. Even my vocal cords were frozen; I couldn't utter a single word.

What was happening to me?

I tried to calm myself down; panicking would only complicate my situation. Deep breathing exercises would relax me within a few minutes. I just needed to take control of my fear, to release it from my body, to allow my mind time to calm itself, then I would be able to come up with a solution. I tried to take a deep breath. No! Even my lungs had become as unresponsive as butchered meat.

Oh no!

Although my brain was stuck in a full blown hysteria, my body lay limp, as calm and relaxed as putty.

My situation couldn't be any worse. How long would this paralysis last?

I was desperate to gain back control of myself. I could feel tears running down my cheeks. I had never felt this much terror before. The only thing I could think of, was to try and fall back asleep. Maybe by morning, my affliction would pass.

I closed my eyes but my brain was still going haywire. I was too flustered with fear to sleep. I decided to use my mind power.

Relax.

I imagined myself saying the word, talking to myself in a soothing voice. I focused all of my thoughts upon the imagined voice of myself. I pushed away all other thoughts and became fixated on the single word.

Relax.

It was working. My thoughts were slowing, my brain was no longer jumbled. Thankfully, my panic was gradually slipping away. I could do it. I could beat this!

Relax.

I had impressed myself with my own brain power. Only a seasoned mentalist should be able to accomplish what I had succeeded in doing. I had overcome my fears, even though I was completely paralyzed and in a full blown panic. Mentally, I congratulated myself. Job well done.

My consolation was short lived as I heard the sound which had haunted me the past few days. The tinkling of the tiny bell. The noise wasn't distant this time. It sounded as though it was coming from inside my bedroom very close to where I lay.

Please no. Not now!

The calmness I had just achieved was driven away as fear and alarm settled back in. I wanted to scream in fear, but couldn't. My eyes involuntarily snapped open. I expected to see Precious on my carpeted floor, her large green eyes staring up at me, purring loudly, with her little pink nose sniffing toward me.

My carpet, from what I could see of it, was devoid of any felines.

In my limited range of vision, my eyes frantically scanned my surroundings. There was no sign of Precious. I should have felt relieved at this point, except that there was something very wrong. Besides my paralysis, the air in my bedroom was too still, too quiet. Had time, itself, become frozen? The eerie silence and stillness compounded my fear.

The tiny bell rang again.

“Precious?” I tried to keep my voice calm. The terror welling within me caused my voice to spiral into a higher pitch. I swallowed nervously. I was glad that, finally, I could at least use my voice. The paralysis was slowly fading. I still couldn't move my body, however.

I could hear loud purring. I couldn't tell where exactly it was coming from though it sounded close.

Instead of tears, now I felt cold beads of sweat running down my face. Precious was always friendly to me, she always just wanted to be petted. Why then, was I so terrified? I knew that Precious was dead and that this was probably just my imagination getting the better of me. I was scared beyond reckoning nonetheless. Perhaps it was the thought of seeing the ghostly image of the dead cat that was frightening me so much, especially the maimed and crushed version that I left her in.

The purring grew louder. It was as though Precious was purring right up against my ear. Frantically I searched for the damned feline. I couldn't see the cat anywhere.

“How can I pet you if you're invisible, Precious?” I squeaked, trying to soothe the spectral feline, “Silly kitty. Come here, girl. Let me pet you.”

I realized that I could move again, so I shot upright in bed, scurrying as far away from the edge of the mattresss as I could. The purring grew louder still, as if the disembodied cat was staying as close to me as possible. I felt a tingle of goosebumps race over the surface of my skin. With a shrill cry of unease, I switched on the bedside lamp! I half-expected to see the flattened cat sitting in my lap, Precious' large green eyes looking up at me, distorted by her crushed skull, the pink nose caked with dried blood, intestines oozing wetly from broken skin.

Thankfully, the purring stopped as soon as I turned on the light and there was no mutilated cat sitting in my lap.

I was so relieved that I actually wept in happiness.

From somewhere in another part of my house, I heard the tiny bell ring again.

Precious was still here.

I made up my mind to rid myself of this nuisance. I would not be tormented by a fucking dead cat. Cute little gray teddy bear or not, I would not be a victim in my own home. Fuming, I threw off the covers and hastily dressed. As I pulled on my socks I called out loudly, “Here kitty, kitty! Come here, Precious!”

The tiny bell chimed again. It was as though Precious was playing with me. I found myself wishing that it was just innocent fun by a cat that didn't realize it was dead. There was no such luck. Every time I heard the bell, a cold shiver ran through my entire body. There was a malevolence to the cat's presence. I sensed that Precious wasn't here to play.

She was torturing me.

After I got my shoes on, I went out into the living room. Without even listening for the telltale bell, I grabbed the flashlight and went into the large storage area. Something was pulling me there, an unseen need was drawing me to that massive unused space. Every sense of perception was telling me that Precious was there waiting for me! I don't how I knew any of this, I just did.

As soon as I opened the heavy metal door to the large storage area, the bell chimed again from somewhere out in the darkness of the massive room. The space was so large, the tinkling bell echoed like some distant bell, tolling to announce my death. The cold air hit my face as I stepped inside and slammed the door shut firmly behind me.

From a large pile of rubbish, I armed myself with a metal pipe. Although I wasn't sure how effective such a weapon would be against the spirit of a dead cat, I felt better carrying it.

This was going to end, one way or another. If I had to kill the fucking cat again, I would. This time, I would make sure that the job was done right. I was going to make sure that when Precious died, she would stay dead. I would burn the corpse, forever banishing the feline's soul to kitty hell.

The bell tinkled again.

The echo within the large room was so potent, I couldn't pinpoint from where the bell was ringing. It was as though the noise was coming at me from everywhere at once. I realized with a shivering horror that the bell wouldn't help me. Precious could attack me from any direction and I wouldn't know from where until she was right on top of me.

What the hell was I afraid of?

Precious was a small fluffy cat, not some predatory lion. Even if she did attack me, I'd be scratched a little and perhaps bitten. My life would certainly not be in danger from the small claws and teeth of the pink-nosed kitty.

Still, my hair was standing on end and my stomach felt as though I had swallowed a large hunk of cold metal.

Precious began to purr.

Again, the echoing effect left me clueless to where the sound was coming from. I swung the flashlight's powerful beam in every direction, trying to catch a flash of tail or a glimpse of eye shine. I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

The purring should have relaxed me, since cats usually purr only to show contentment and comfort. I felt no such soothing. Instead, I was stricken with an even deeper sense of dread.

My voice cracked as I called out, “Precious? Here kitty, kitty.”

The volume of the purring rose again, become so loud that it blocked out all other sounds. The vibrations, the undulation of the cat's purr were so intense that I was tempted to plug my ears against the voluminous onslaught. Then the tone changed, slowly, from a low hum to a guttural growl. The cat was growling now and there was malevolence within the sound.

I nearly dropped the metal pipe, right then, and retreated into my living area.

My senses were being assailed by the deafening rhythmic growling. I was desperate to find Precious, to put an end to all of this, yet my legs were rubbery, my knees were threatening to give way and I was barely able to control my bladder. The fear that accompanied the intimidating angry sounds being produced by the dead cat was debilitating. I found myself frozen with fear. Once again, my instincts screamed at me to retreat.

No! I told myself. I needed to end this!

The growling suddenly stopped and I heard a loud primal hiss. I have never heard such a hiss come from a house cat. The hiss was so loud and harsh that I pictured it coming from a massive, fire breathing dragon, serpentine, scaled with long fangs, rather than a small domestic cat. Had Precious metamorphosed into some sort of dangerous demon cat? Was my life truly in danger from a gigantic cat from hell?

My hair stood on end as the hiss washed over my entire body.

As soon as it began, the vehemence being relayed by the unseen cat faded away. I heard the soft tinkling of the bell and Precious purring softly again, the volume of the cat's contentment returned to normal. The veil of cold fear fell away and I found myself instantly comforted.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the cat was just playing with me after all. I cleared my tight throat and called out as sweetly as I could, “There you go, Precious. Good kitty. No reason to be mad at me. That's a good kitty.”

I made my way deeper into the dark warehouse. I wished I had paid the electrician to wire the lighting in this area of the house. It would have cost me thousands of dollars and I hardly ever came into this part of my abode, so I had declined the service when it had become available. Now, I wished that I had sprang for the wiring, so that I could utilize the overhead lights.

The darkness was eerie, shrinking away from my flashlight beam, moving as if it was a living entity. Goosebumps formed all over my skin. Even though Precious was not behaving maliciously at the moment, I was still creeping out by the idea of a ghostly spectral cat haunting me. The unseen feline could be hiding anywhere.

I was gripping the metal pipe so tightly that my hand began to ache. I called out to Precious again, trying to coax the cat to show itself, “Here kitty, kitty. Come here, Precious.”

The office partitions were piled high in this area in multiple stacks. The tall piles were six or seven feet high, sometimes even loftier than that, so that I couldn't see around them as I traversed my way through. I had to shine my flashlight around every corner of the multiple stacks, making sure that Precious wasn't lurking just beyond my line of sight. At times, the pile of partitions were placed at odd intervals, forming a maze-like quality to my path. It was unnerving to have my awareness so thoroughly limited.

The soft ghostly purring continued to reverberate in my ears. It was still impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from. Sweat broke out on my brow, despite the chill of the warehouse. A macabre thought crept into my mind. What if Precious was no longer a normal cat? What if she had transformed into a monstrous feline beast? Was I searching for a gray fluffy teddy bear or a demonic hell cat?

The terror that I had felt from that awful hiss moments before, filled me once again. I felt the terror seeping into my bones like a poison, reducing me to a trembling pile of frightened goo. For the third time, my sense of self preservation warned me to leave, but I pressed on anyway, determined to find the damned cat that had been tormenting me.

“Here kitty, kitty. Come here, Precious, old girl. I just want to pet you, kitty.” My lies were sickening to me. I was calling to the cat with a saccharine tone, trying to coax her to show herself, even though my heart was filled with loathing. Even if I found the damned thing, what could I do to it? The cat was already dead, I was certain. What I was currently dealing with, was a spirit, maybe the disembodied soul of the dead feline. Could I harm a specter? Could I bash a spirit's brains in?

I was beginning to doubt my intentions for finding the cat. Although I wished for resolution, I doubted that I would be fulfilled with my present endeavor.

Sighing irritably, I turned to leave the warehouse and return to my living quarters. I would no doubt continue to hear the purring and the infernal chime of the tiny bell. Of this, I was certain. I would just have to learn to live with it, perhaps even ignore it.

My flashlight beam fell upon something on the floor directly in my path. My breath caught up in my throat as I recognized the gray fur.

Precious was no longer a cute fluffy teddy bear.

The once adorable cat was a mess, worse than what I could have ever imagined, even with my devious mind. Her body was completely broken, bones exposed, skull disfigured, glistening intestines exposed, blood coating her once fluffy fur. Precious craned her neck toward me, her head flopping obscenely on busted neck bones. She was still purring loudly, one of her eye sockets was empty, her crushed skull could no longer support her eyeball which dangled wetly on connective tissue.

Precious was trying to come over to me, probably to be petted, but her broken body didn't allow easy locomotion. To my horror, the cat dragged, flailed and flopped her broken body along the concrete floor toward me.

I recoiled in fear, crying out in alarm and disgust. I ran into the high stacked partitions behind me and felt the heavy pile wobble unstably. I didn't care about resolution or revenge any longer. I just wanted to get away from the hideous cat that desired affection from me.

In my haste to avoid the approaching monstrosity, jerking and flopping it's ruined limbs toward me, I bumped again into the tall stack and heard the partitions begin to fall over. I looked over my shoulder, and saw the ten foot tall stack looming over me. As the dividers fell, I could see that avoidance was impossible. The barriers fell over on top of me, pinning my legs underneath. The pressure was immense, I felt like I was being run over by a freight train. Then the pain hit.

It was excruciating. I screamed in agony. My vision dimmed as tears of pain filled my eyes. My brain was numb, unable to process anything else except the punishing pain.

I saw Precious before me briefly. The cat was adorable again, not the mutilated mess that she had been only seconds before. I don't know how I was even able to see her, since the flashlight had been knocked from my grip and the bulb was busted. Perhaps I perceived the cat in my mind's eye. She was there, nonetheless, looking as cute as ever, her lush fluffy gray coat was restored, her large green eyes twinkled and her pink nose sniffed me affectionately.

Despite my dire state, I smiled at the cat, knowing that she had forgiven me, now that we were even. I tried to raise one of my arms to pet her but my body was unresponsive. I blacked out soon after.

I don't know how long I laid there. My mind swam in and out of consciousness. Every time I recovered, I was engulfed by the unbelievable pain. I finally managed to look down at my lower half to assess the damage. Everything below my hips had been almost completely flattened. If I managed to survive this, I would be resigned to a wheelchair the rest of my life.

Once again, after a unknown amount of time, I regain consciousness. The pain was gone and I could feel my body giving up. I was sinking into a blackness that was just out of my sight, like it was set in the peripheral part of my vision. I knew this blackness was not just avoiding being seen by me but it was also just out of reach of my comprehension, as well. The darkness awaiting me was there, it had always been there, just out of sight, barely within the limits of my awareness. I knew that once it swallowed me up, my physical body would expire.

Precious appeared to me one last time. She stretched and then rubbed herself against my face affectionately. Although too weak to pet her, I could feel the warmth of her body and the softness of her fluffy coat. I was comforted briefly. Then Precious was gone and I was alone in my agony. I don't know how long it is going to take me to die.

I only wish that I had never harmed that damned cat.


Submitted: October 28, 2019

© Copyright 2021 Cthulu45. All rights reserved.

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