HTB - CDTA - RR Headcanon Scenarios

RR HC #1

This is going to be a very dark chapter, because earlier this month I saw something quite disturbing for any person to witness. This chapter is written to help cope with the death of a cat that my family has had for two years. She will be missed greatly.

Headcanon: Mittens had passed away, and the body was found a little bit after he died.

This chapter will contain: Death, rot, bugs (flies, maggots, ect.) and grief. Please tread with caution.

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He didn't know when it struck, only that someone close to him was taken away. Again.

Peter suspected that Mittens could have been hiding from him from within the house. Or perhaps he slipped out through the door while Peter went to fetch his groceries from kind neighbors? In any case, his cat had gone missing for a couple of days. Maybe a week and he thought nothing more of Mittens' disappearance. Many owners wouldn't wonder or worry about their feline friend, and Peter was one of these people.

The event occurred during the first or second week of July, but Peter couldn't remember since the memory of the specific date was a blurry mess. It was quite early in the month, around eight or nine a.m.

A knock at the door had alerted him which prompted him to release the stress he had built up from the morning chirp of birds awakening. It wasn't exactly easy for him to keep a warm and gentle facade but he did not want to come off as rude or ungrateful. Peter opened the door as a familiar face held several bags of protruding items that pierced the plastic bag.

"Here's your groceries, Peter." Chris spoke while Peter took some of the bags from the kind man.

"Thanks again Chris. I-I don't know what I'd do if you or the friendly folks around weren't around here."

"Peter, it's no problem. It's the least we can do." Honesty lifted Peter's spirits as bags were set across the counter, the products ready to be stashed away.

"I know, but you know that I can't help but feel guilty for you all spending time and money on someone like me." It was common knowledge that Peter resented himself and his past actions, forever trapped in his own personal hell. While he was grateful for not being found by the cult, he would sometimes wish that they had finished him off. One less scum to deal with.

One less problem to deal with.

"And I'll keep saying this over and over until you respect yourself. We're doing this out of the kindness of our hearts. We don't think of these trips as chores but more like opportunities to help guide you to a better life. Whatever has happened to you is in the past and currently, it's the present. You can't change the past but can make changes for a better future, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now before I'm off, I just wanted to let you know of something."

Peter's attention had instantly became sharp and focused. He then asked Chris, "What is it?"

Chris' face twisted into a dark expression as he spoke. "When I was walkin' to your doorstep, I smelled something rotting. I don't know what but it's near the fields but rocks and wooden boards. I just thought I'd tell you." Chris stepped back from the door and turned around, walking towards his truck.

Peter had only a few ideas about what it could be as he raced out of the door, fear seeping into his very bones. It didn't take long for him to reach the fields and the search had begun.

Minutes had past before he thought about giving up but a small voice in his head told him to keep going. Peter had decided to retrace his steps to find the bigger picture. What he was missing.

He stopped in place as he moved strands of long grass that shielded a large hole with the decaying corpse of Mittens. Despair had settled down in his mind as his only eye was on the body. A front paw was missing along with flesh upon the pelvis and face area. Flies swarmed the fur of his cat, his hunches covering what Peter could assume was his soft underbelly.

Knowing full well that Peter wasn't wearing any gloves, his mind went into a whirl of thoughts as he decided to lift up the leg that covered the belly.

And he did. He shouted at the sight of maggots tearing away at green flesh, and he let go. He wanted to vomit. And yet, he was unable to. He had no time to mourn and proceeded to grab a shovel. Loose dirt was everywhere and so, Peter scooped up dirt and gently planted it over Mittens. Tears rolled down his face as he finished. Rocks were soon placed over the makeshift grave, along with a wooden plank that was dug in behind the rocks.

Now, he could mourn. Peter could scream and cry, release all emotions that flooded him at that very moment.

Why did everything that he loved had to be taken away from him? First his mother, then Sarah and now, his beloved cat.

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This is almost exactly how I found my cat. What I described was the condition I found her in. This was meant to be written sooner but I wanted to post the previous chapter before this. I'm not exactly sorry for this chapter being a downer. I'm coping with the death of our cat by cementing her into a story, by allowing myself to write about my sorrow and pain.

As always, Rotten Roots is based around the lovely podcast known as 'Cabin Tales' and the original Rotten Roots fic was written by missr3n3 on AO3. Go support her stories and the pocast, both are amazing and deserve lots of love!!

Thanks for reading. Empress, the mother cat of many, shall be missed greatly. I love you so much.