Mermaid Pirate Dispatch

Winston jumped, startled. His heart was racing as he whirled around to face the couch. He could feel the hairs along his neck standing on end as he gazed into the deep, black space below the huge, normally comfy furniture. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he stared, sniffing the air and rotating his ears attentively listening for any signs of movement. A faint sound of movement in the kitchen pricked at his ears and he twitched, turning his face away from the couch but keeping his eyes trained steadily on the shadows. He sampled the air again.

The whole house was bathed in twilight, with nothing but the moon shining through a few of the windows. Little indicators on devices out of Winston’s reach blinked, casting eerie, sickly lights on nearby walls in an otherwise motionless house. But Winston knew he wasn’t alone. He knew that somewhere in the house a dastardly, shadowy figure lurked. And he knew that it thirsted for blood.

He could feel his tail beginning to tuck between his rear legs as he took a few shaking steps toward the kitchen. Then he stopped and thought better of it. Why go into the kitchen at all? Why face its claws? I could go curl up on the human’s bed and… his imagination ran wild with the gruesome images of his own murdered body lying on the bed. He’d be a sitting duck on the bed. No, he couldn’t just ignore it. He had to confront the phantasmal devil.

Winston inched toward the doorway into the kitchen. His night vision was good, but even for him the kitchen was bathed in a complete, velvety blackness. No moonlight spilled in through the windows. The cracked door hardly let any residual light from the house into the massive, cold space. Something fluttered erratically overhead. Winston ducked, dropping to the ground ready to wet the floor, but he held it in, casting his gaze to the ceiling in the hopes of catching a glimpse of whoever, or whatever had caused the noise. He sniffed the still air, pulling as much as he could into his specialized nostrils, but all he could pick up were the usual smells: the normal ambient cacophony of human residence, the chemical stench of manufactured comforts, and the fading pleasantries of past meals.

The entire world erupted in an earsplitting, chaotic explosion of crashes and ringing metal. Winston whirled around and attempted to leap back into the safe, soft carpeted area of the living room. His claws failed to grab the linoleum and he found himself splayed out on the ground, flailing desperately for purchase but sliding around in place for several seconds. Eventually he managed to get his body to move, but he slammed into the door, throwing it shut and locking himself in the kitchen.

A few pots were still clanging around, some rolling on the hard floor and others dancing about, crashing randomly as they settled.

Winston gulped and pulled his ears back, looking wildly around the void. In the distance he thought he spotted a pair of illuminated eyes staring at him, unblinking. He did a double-take, stared at them a moment, then he blinked and they were gone. The pots and pans had quieted down, and he found himself immersed in a silent, black world. He wanted to pee, but he knew that when the human returned it wouldn’t go well, so he did his best to fight the urge. He began whimpering, struggling to his feet so he could get a better grip on reality.

Once on all fours, he looked around again. This time he nearly missed seeing the eyes because they were right in front of his nose! He yelped and leaped into the air. There was a loud hiss and a tumult of scraping sounds as Winston attempted to dash away from the eyes. Soon he was rushing through the air, knowing that the room wasn’t as large as their back yard. He attempted to stop, then tensed up in preparation for impact. As expected, he slammed into a wooden cabinet door and let out another yelp, continuing to whine as he got back on all four paws.

Again he heard a fluttering sound. The air whooshed overhead and he tracked it with his ears. He’d never heard anything like it inside the house before, but it almost sounded like a bird. He sampled the room once more with his nose and a powerful scent registered deep in his brain. It was, indeed, a bird. He let a growl build up before loosing a powerful bark, following the sound of the bird’s flapping wings around in the darkness. He barked a few more times, jumping with his front paws in an attempt to get just a little closer to the source of the smell.

The fluttering stopped and, carefully, he hurried over to where he last heard it. His face smacked into the cold, hard surface of the refrigerator and he looked up. He could smell it, and it was close. He jumped up on his hind legs with his front paws on the fridge, and took a series of hard, fast whiffs. He growled. It was there alright.

Then, suddenly, silently, the situation atop the fridge changed. Winston froze, quietly sniffing high in the still air, desperate for more information. There had been a soft, muffled thud, then there was nothing. He got the faintest whisper of a new smell… blood.

He clenched his jaw and slowly backed himself off the fridge and down to the floor, still looking straight up at the top of the fridge despite not being able to see even a hint of a shadow. He swallowed, the sound of his own heart filling his powerful ears. Peering out from over the top of the fridge he thought he caught the brief flash of two glowing eyes, but it could have just been his imagination. He sniffed the room, but there was nothing new. Nothing.

Winston slowly backed away from the fridge, keeping his eyes trained on the spot where he might have seen eyes. With a startling plop, something smacked onto the ground with a sickening wet sound. Winston’s ears locked onto the point of impact and he cautiously stepped forward, sniffing ahead of himself. It was the bird. He could smell its blood, he could feel its fading warmth. It wasn’t moving. Its heart was still. He lifted his head and looked around, whimpering. Normally when the human left, Winston was mostly alone. But this time the shadowy evil was lively and definitely out for blood.

In the all-encompassing darkness, Winston slowly backed away from the bird’s corpse and swiveled his ears. All he could hear was his own pounding heart reverberating in his trembling frame. He pictured the black devil creature prowling around him, its vicious claws spread and ready to shred him to ribbons. Everywhere he looked he swore he could see those bright, empty eyes staring at him. He jumped. He’d backed into a wall. He kept backing up, leaning into the wall. It made him feel safer, like somehow that wall could protect at least half of his body from a sudden mauling. He continued scanning the room, his ears reporting all manner of nonsense. A patter in that corner, a scraping sound over there. Something moved straight ahead, or was it a breeze?

His stomach felt sick. He couldn’t tell if he was involuntarily growling or if something in his gut was preparing for a violent and painful encounter with the devil.

Winston farted and it nearly scared him to death. While he caught his breath, he lowered himself deeper into the safety of his wall, tucking himself into the corner where the floorboards met the linoleum. His eyes darted around the inky blackness. There was a deep, squishy thump somewhere in the house. Winston’s heart raced out of control. His nose began picking up freshly warmed air and carbon dioxide. Something was breathing nearby. Something silent.

Death. He could feel death’s icy fingers crawling up his spine. His skin tightened and his hairs all stood on end. He began whimpering, crying, curling in on himself with his tail tucked all the way to his ribcage. He winced and tightened the muscles in his face, clenching his eyes shut to protect them from the razor sharp claws of the evil one. Though he couldn’t smell, see, or hear it, he could tell it was stalking ever closer, drifting across the cold, hard floor like a shadow driven by the movement of the sun.

Winston shook with fright and pain just as the kitchen door was thrown open and the light switch was flicked. He opened his eyes just in time to catch the dark blur of his compact hunter racing out of the kitchen, its jet black fur smearing across his field of view. It had been close. Winston took gasping breaths, his whole body pulsating to the rapid beat of his heart. He shook uncontrollably, cowering against the wall.

“Oh, Winston boy, what’s the matter? Did you get locked in the kitchen with that mean old cat?”

Winston wasn’t sure what the human said, but he allowed the tip of his tail to wag a little between his legs.

“Hey, don’t worry buddy.” The human hunched down and took Winston’s whole head in her warm, soft hands. She smiled at him. “Come on bud, let’s go curl up on the couch and watch TV.”

TV. He knew that one. He loved TV. He struggled to his paws and let his tail relax a little. It swayed, tentatively excited to see the world returning to something like normalcy. He looked up at her and panted, letting his tongue hang lazily out as his muscles released their tense grip on his bones.

She walked out of the kitchen into the living room where the lights were on. He heard the television power on. Excitedly, he dashed out through the kitchen doorway, then jumped and yelped as a clawed paw slashed at his face like lightning accompanied by a bone-chilling hiss. Crying dramatically, Winston tore across the carpeted living room over to the human with his tail back firmly between his legs.

“Lucifer!” the woman scowled, stifling a laugh. “You stop that!”

Winston jumped nervously up onto the couch and curled up halfway on top of his human while watchfully side-eying the cat, his heart still beating wildly in his tight ribcage.

The cat glared at him haughtily, then sauntered off to some dark, unknown hiding spot with his whip-like tail held obnoxiously high.

[Reddit Post]