She Always Had Her Cats - Cover

She Always Had Her Cats

by wynternight

Copyright© 2017 by wynternight

Horror Story: A single woman's loving, domesticated felines are not so loving, or domesticated, as she imagined.

Tags: Fiction   Horror   Mystery   2nd POV   Cannibalism   Caution  

She woke to find the house, as always, empty, but for herself and the cats. There was a comforting feeling to the emptiness by now. It had existed long enough to warmly blanket rather than wetly smother. Today, however, the comfort was gone, and there was only the feeling of blank, empty space -- space that had not been filled yet. She shrugged, for she had felt such things before, when she first moved in, or when she was in one of her black moods. Perhaps she was headed for another. At least the cats loved her. She always had her cats. Cats were better than people. And they required less work than dogs.

Ambling into the kitchen, she busied herself placing dry food and fresh water for her friends, sleepy brown eyes still blinking owlishly from another nap. She was always tired. She was unsure if it was from being alone for years, in the nearly-empty house, or from working the graveyard shift, or both. She was plump and apple-cheeked, average, not a Big Beautiful Woman; cute, not pretty. For the umpteenth time, she shoved her mahogany bangs out of her eyes, thinking absently that she really should get her hair cut soon.

As if by some innate sense, or perhaps smelling the tuna she always cracked open, her two cats and latest rescue kitten scampered into the kitchen, weaving and ducking about her feet, meowing piteously for attention and rubbing against her ankles and her hands and face, as she set their bowls down.

“Silly goobers,” she muttered. “I would never let you starve.” With a skritch under the chin for the tortiseshell, and a few strokes behind his head, she turned next to the multicolour tabby and stroked her protruding stomach, her ears, her tail, and her back. With a kiss to the forehead of the tiny black kitten, barely ten weeks old, she stepped back to her counter and continued lunch preparations.

“Ouch!” she hissed, as the tortiseshell dug her claws into her ankle. “Sadie! Stop that! I’ll give you some tuna in a minute, I always do!”

As she did almost every other day, she fixed her own sandwich, tuna with cheddar on sourdough. The lemon sour, one of her favourites, was already waiting. The bread was warm, the tuna was cold, the cheddar was sharp, the beer yeasty, the cats were appreciative of the tuna brine and half a can of tuna -- without the mayonnaise, of course. Kali usually tried to swipe her sandwich, and he hated mayonnaise.

Maybe I need two cans of tuna, and Kaliyah will stop trying to swipe my sandwiches, she thought.

 
There is more of this story...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.


Log In