Monster (Cartoon Cat x Reader)

Prologue

In a town too small to name, on the border between woods and city limits, was a house. It was a cursed place, a place where disappearances were constant and darkness thrived. For no matter how bright the day was, it's windows always seemed blacker than any pool of ink. Laughter did not exist near that house. Nor did joy, grief, or even mania. Just a dull sense of anxiety... of being watched.

Looking at it from a distance, the house didn't appear all that sinister. It's walls were sturdy enough, and the roof still boasted all of its weather-beaten tiles. The front porch was far from rotting, and the grey paint was only peeling along the bottom. There wasn't a broken window or a hole in sight. Not even ornate enough to be eerie in that sense. But that was from afar. Up close, the house was much worse.

The yard was unkempt, sharp blades of rough grass standing knee high, ready to leave tiny cuts on any exposed skin. Clusters of dandelions and milkweed grew in random patches, always looking desperate and choked out by the grass. Flecks of red and brown, small enough to evade casual glances, covered the white painted porch. The door looked abnormally new compared to the rest if the house too, it's handle shiny from use and it's paint fresh. Like it had something to hide. Darkness within defied all light entering, a wall of impenetrable black. And again, that feeling. The feeling of tiny, invisible spiders crawling up your back even as shivers ran down your spine. The feeling of eyes, malicious in intent, boring holes into your flesh. The feeling that there was something there that was waiting for you. Something unnatural.

The locals avoided the house like birds avoided a hungry cat. And like birds, there were always some too brave for their own good. Teenagers intent on facing fear head on, paranormal investigators, the homeless desperate for shelter... many kinds of people took the risk and went inside. None of them ever came out. And the house still stood, defying nature and society. Innocent and abominable.

The stories spun about the house were similar to the house itself, gruesome and grim. One story figured that it was a cultist house, filled with the worshipers of some unspeakable deity that sacrificed anyone who entered. Another said the house itself was alive, and it consumed those who entered almost instantly. Yet another claimed it was the house of the devil. Another called it a hideout for those who wanted to disappear, like murderers and the like. Still another proclaimed it a gateway straight to Hell or somewhere just as horrible. Only one thing was agreed on. The house had stood there for a full millennia, unchanging and lethal. Many an elder remembered the house, as did  their deceased parents. It was a part of life. It was a threat to be avoided.

And that's just how the entity living inside liked it. It had it's peace of mind, and it had enough playmates entering it's domain to avoid boredom and hunger. It felt no need to relocate or become more aggressive, it felt no need to extend it's energies towards playing with the individuals beyond it's walls. It's twisted games would be reserved for the next unlucky soul who wandered in.

The entity only knew the glorious and gory path it had put itself on. The past, though painful, was a distant memory. The future was unchanging. Or so it thought.

Meanwhile, a woman of no major consequence sat alone on a bus nearly devoid of people. She was young, and reasonably attractive to most, nothing particularly significant. In her arms was an unopened paperback novel, the kind that came a dime a dozen for all of its originality. She stared out the window, eyes wide and shining, smile large and bright. She wore sensible traveling clothes that complimented her figure nicely, and looked generally kind and endearing.

This young woman, carrying the forgotten novel and watching the trees flash by with optimistic glee is you. Your name, your face... she is you. And it's time to step into her shoes. Ready? Now...

You watched the blur of greens and browns pass by outside, too excited to focus on anything else. It might seem strange to be so excited about going to a nameless town in the middle of nowhere. But to you, it was perfect. Paranormal activity was something you often traveled to see, but rarely was there anything paranormal or even disturbing about it. No ghosts, no monsters, not even real scares. Just a lot of fake photos, parlor tricks, and decent actors. You'd just about lost hope of ever seeing anything like what you'd hoped.

Then you'd heard about a house in a nameless town in Idaho, a house that seemed to absorb everyone who entered it. The stories were so convoluted, it was difficult to imagine what kind of place it really was. And now you were only minutes away from seeing the place. You were going to investigate the cursed house and hopefully find something truly paranormal.

As you zipped mile by mile closer to certain doom, you felt a growing adrenaline rush. Fate would either let you live or kill you. Nothing else. Right?