The Cat Behind His Eye

Authors Note: This story is told from the point of view of the black cat in Edgar Allen Poe's "The Black Cat". In his story the cat is treated horribly and so in this story the cat is having a chance to express himself.

-----------------------------------------------------

My story is not for the faint hearted, or cowardly. There is no logic behind my demise. I lived with an amiable, affable man. However, there was something nefarious behind his eyes. I thought nothing of it. He showed me invariable cordiality. He had one quirk, however, which was cradling bottles on bottles of liquor.

 Each eventide without fail, he would return home and offer his wife or one of the animals the onslaught from behind his eyes. I was the sole omission to this brutality. I pursued the man on every outing, sure to obtain his trust. One portentous eve, the man retired to the home nurturing a fine bottle of rum. His tone suggested he was sullen, so I sheltered myself. He caught a glimpse of my tail and in his outrage, he seized me. My vision blurred, and my instincts set in. I plunged the sharp white blades of my mouth into his skin, tasting the warm blood as it seeped out. At once, he choked, and all colour drained from his face. A demonic, malevolent fiend had imprisoned his soul. My heart faltered as I felt the most excruciating pain surge through my body. My face burned, my eyes, nonetheless, were cold.

 Thenceforth I avoided the man, my sole mission to—survive. After roughly one week, I found myself jolted awake. In the dark of night, I felt a scratchy material slip around my neck. At that moment, the moon glistened over the man's face. I noticed something soothing, almost regretful behind his eyes. Suddenly I felt safe. This felt right. Then, everything went numb.

Characters from:

Poe, Edgar Allan. The Black Cat. The Saturday Evening Post, August 19, 1843