A prompt story: He is a hitman for the supernatural, because sometimes ghosts need revenge so they can rest in peace.
It is remarkably disturbing, when the alley cat you save less than an hour ago from the backstreet from punch of dogs, is clawing you up so badly his claw marks remind you of runes from your history textbook. It would have disturbed me less if they didn’t hurt so much under my clothes.
He was upset, I got that part well. I would be too if forced into a bath of dog shampoo. The only thing I had since Rex passed away with my girlfriend couple months earlier.
It was the first living soul in my house since then. Yes, there were many, who came and went, checking on me thoroughly to report back home that I was doing fine and wasn’t falling to pieces in front of everybody else. It was for them more than for me. I stopped falling apart long ago. She didn’t deserve that, but being the pillar of society as she was, they wouldn’t get it. They didn’t get that I was falling apart for Rex, not for my abusive bastard of a girlfriend either. God, I missed the dog, but Carson – yes, that’s her name –, would probably be fine as second in command for Beelzebub.
That’s what I was doing at the time I spotted the kitty in trouble, sending home one of his aunts from yet another checkup. Few months more and then they’d hopefully take me as I was, nothing but her latest girlfriend, and leave me alone as stranger to the family. For it was family you stayed strangers with. They were nice people, but if your own offspring had to go this far to hide their ways… Let’s just say I wasn’t big on following this through.
I swirled in front of a mirror to see if the washing session with the cat had produced another set of red lines, but aside my hands the body looked fine despite him using it as climbing tree. The culprit himself was now hiding meekly under the table and hoped SHE was left alone.
No biggie, I had my ways. I produced a carton of cream, mixed it with some water and presented the white perfection to the picky eater under the table. I left him to it and went to the bathroom to wash up while he became acquainted with the food.
But the claw marks wouldn’t let me be. They really did remind me of crude runes, something my friend would scribble in her notebooks.
I raised my eyes and looked at my face for a mere second before I turned the gaze a little and saw the striped creature sitting on the doorway, looking at me not with curiosity, but somewhat…
“Gosh, you surprised me!” I turned and went to pet the creature, but it backed off and back under the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. You hurt me, though.”
I glanced back at the mirror. My mind must be playing tricks on me, I banished the idea.
Two hours later I was sick. It started off as a mild fever, but half the night in and I was starting to feel nauseous and by the morning I knew I had slept most of the time, had to drink lots of water and most likely I wouldn’t make it to work.
The cat, however, kept sitting on the window, looking outside as well as me and was purring the whole time. It was uneasy feeling to listen him while my blurry mind could clearly see the runes in the scratches now. They were redder from the rest of them and bulkier under the touch.
By morning I was gone.
I know it, because I stood next to the cat, watching as the phone kept ringing. I didn’t call back. In fact I was sleeping as usual and just watching myself for a while.
“Which one would you like?”
“Like what?” I asked, confused.
The cat turned from my body to me. “Hell or heaven. You get to choose.”
Wait, this wasn’t how it was suppose to be. Shouldn’t I get judged, pushed through inferno to be measured up to which one I fitted in?
“Choose? Isn’t that a bit odd? I mean -”
“As a victim of the deed performed between the Mighty Apollyon, you get to choose, where you would like to go.”
“I’d like to continue living.” I didn’t have to choose. As lousy as it was to be single, have a flat full of stuff belonging to Carson and no real life perspectives, I wasn’t ready to leave it.
He let out a loud whine. “Why?”
“Carson Beli made a contract with my lord Mighty Apollyon and offered your soul as payment if she gets her revenge. It doesn’t work that way though. According to the laws set down by God, you don’t get to offer another soul without turning it into a sacrifice. And as a sacrificial soul, you get to choose, which place you’d feel the most home at. Lord Mighty Apollyon gives you a choice – choose.”
Ok, that was new and different. “That’s like rewarding criminally insane for doing their deed.” I murmured, but the cat only shrugged.
“I have done my work, you are dead. Now choose.”
“I want to live.” I repeated my previous statement.
The tiny kitten frowned, staring me intently to make up his mind if I was pulling his leg or not.
My vision blurred.
“Wait!” I screamed. “What about Carson?”
“The little chick will get what she deserves now that her last words, her last testament, has been fulfilled.” He promised.
“Why would she want me killed?”
“I don’t know, I only fill the contracts.”
I popped my eyes open and jumped up in shock when I realized I was back in my body and the cat was still sitting on my windowsill and looking outside. I shuffled the fabric aside and checked my hands. The runes were still there, but faded into the rest of scrambles he’d made my hand into. Then I checked the kitten on the window and decided it was really nothing more than my fever induced brain gone mad.
I got up, checked the phone and saw it had indeed been my boss. I called her back, assured I was sick at home and saw the cat heading towards the door. Without thinking I followed him and opened the door to let him outside.
“Thanks.” There was a tiny hitched meow from the cat.
It wasn’t until I set mobile down and watched the tiny ass sway its fluffy back out my gates that I realized I’d just let the kitten back to roam around on the streets and that cat had just thanked me for opening the door.
But hell had merit in my eyes now. Cute assassins like that – who could resist choosing them?