There are those who say that fate is a mere creation of man, used simply to support the claims of urban legends, and nothing more. For a time, I was one of them: A strict believer in self-proclaimed destiny. But I had not yet seen the horrors that all began with a lonesome cat, bearing eyes that gleamed like rubies.

The cat had first appeared in my dreams, a reoccurring nightmare that forced its way into the deep crevices of my mind... But with every passing night it became more and more vivid, until one day I awoke to find the very tabby from my nightmares perched upon the ledge outside my bedroom window. From that moment on I was never free from the beast. It was everywhere. And there was no escaping the grisly fate it would bring about.
...



It is the very cat who haunts my dreams that now sat beside the warped metal at the side of the road. Its matted, grey fur stuck out at odd angles. Blood stained the jagged claws which protruded from the beast’s paws. Its left ear twitched every minute or so, partially eaten away by insects, or disease. There was a bloody slit that ran across the tabby’s nose; like a piece of raw meat, hung out to dry. But the worst part were those crimson eyes. Eyes which could penetrate the soul and devour what little sanity we may possess.

The sound of sirens filled my ears as I turned to see yet another ambulance speeding down the road, towards the collision up ahead. My thoughts returned to the cat and I could feel its watching eyes upon me. But when I turned to face the beast, it was gone, replaced instead by a white sheet, draped across the driver’s lifeless corpse.
...

Even as my mother drove me away from the sight of the crash, I was conscious that I was not safe. By that time, I knew all too well that there was no escaping the red eyed demon. And sure enough, as we pulled into our street, there was the tabby, sitting quietly at the end of the driveway, its red eyes set on mine.

I could feel terror bubbling up inside me; like a pot of water about to boil over. My mind spun. I slid in and out of reality, insanity bitting at my heels. I tried to ignore the eerie beast, but somehow it was always there. An invisible presence that lingered in the stale, afternoon air.
...

I paced the empty hallway, digging my fingernails deep into my skin. But I found that even pain could no longer banish the deranged thoughts from entering my mind. For even now, as blood collected in the palm of my hand, the fiend was with me.

My eyes turned to a painting of a young girl as I wiped the red fluid onto my jeans. I took a deep breath and focused on the gentle paint strokes. The girl’s soft smile was welcoming and her flowing, blue dress matched the color of her eyes perfectly. Or so I had thought.

My mouth hung open as I turned to stared down the hall. The once familiar eyes which dotted the line of paintings had been replaced by blazing red sockets.

“No...” I breathed, my voice barely audible over the high pitched ringing that now filled my ears. The room was spinning, faster and faster with every breath. There was no way out. I was surrounded. Like prey caught in a trap.

But I wasn’t in a trap. I was in a house. My house. The place I’d grown up in since I was three. Everything else was just in my head.

I turned my attention back to the paintings. Because that’s all they were: paintings. My heart continued its rapid drumming, but I was relieved to see that the placid faces had returned to their frames, at least for now.
...

Sweat trickled down my back as I headed up the stairs and into my room. I closed the door behind me and lay across my bed. My eyes were shut tight and my breathing was heavy. I had to get a grip. All that I’d been seeing, it couldn’t be real. But even so my hands were trembling. I knew what I saw. Even if it was only a delusion, it was real to me. And that was all the more terrifying.

My eyes flicked open. The cat was staring down at me from outside the window. And as I met its red eyes, I thought I saw a slight smirk appear on the beast’s narrow face, but that was impossible... Wasn’t it?

I jumped to my feet and flung a pillow at the window in a moment of sheer panic. The beast simply cocked its head, seemingly bemused by my sudden outburst. I stumbled backwards, fumbling to find the door. Finally my hand closed around the cool, brass knob. But as I turned the handle, my heart stopped. The door had been locked from the outside, it wouldn’t budge.

I slammed my body into the door and cried out in anguish. I had to get out. Suddenly, I felt myself fall forward as the door broke away from my desperate pounding.

“Andrew, what are you-” I heard my mother start, but there was no time to respond. And even if I did, she would have thought me mad. But perhaps she would be right.

I raced through the hall and into the bathroom, this time careful to leave the door open despite my longing for isolation. Water rushed forth from the tap as I splashed the cool liquid onto my face.

“Just calm down,” I said to myself, my hands clutching either side of the marble sink. Slowly, I lifted my head to see my pale face reflected in the mirror. And there, sitting quietly upon the rim of the tub, was the tabby. I turned with a start, only to find the empty bath that sat behind me. I was alone. Just as I had been before.

I staggered back into my room to find the beast watching me from outside the window. Was there truly no escaping it? But of course there was no way to run from that which lived inside my head.
...

The cat hadn’t moved from its perch when I arose the next morning. I glanced in the mirror to see my own tangled hair and thin figure. Dark bags were smeared below my eyes. I had barely slept the entire night. And when I did, it was an uneasy rest, filled with those red eyes which overwhelmed my mind and replaced all reason with utter panic.

I dragged my weary body out of bed and slipped out the front door. Some fresh air would do me good. And as I walked down the empty street, through the dim light of the early morning, I knew I was not alone. Fear grasped me by the scruff of the neck as a prickling sensation weaved itself in and out of my legs. I just stood there, paralyzed. My heart beat rapidly against my chest as I turned my head to see the fiend that stood at my feet. It just looked at me, taunting me with those devil’s eyes.

“What are you?” I whispered. A soft breeze caressed my cheek and suddenly I knew. In fact, I think I knew it all along. A sort of instinctive knowledge that sat nestled in the back of my mind, waiting to be found.

“Death,” the word escaped my lips as quickly as the thought had entered my mind. And a sudden calmness fell over me; Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’ve been following me. I always knew you were. But that’s because my time is up, isn’t it?” I stood in the middle of the street, smiling at the cat. It was all so clear to me now. I took in a deep breath and prepared myself for the end.

First came the roar of an engine. Then the faint smell of gasoline. The blinding lights. And finally, the impact. No pain. No fear. Just... A series of events leading up to an inevitable fate. I fell backwards. Into darkness. Into the unknown. And as I slipped into that never-ending sleep, death unraveled before me. It wrapped around my body like a cloak, and hissed into my ear,

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this. For the stimulating rush of a young heart, ceasing to beat forever more,” there was a pause in which I could hear my steady breathing slowly fade into silence, “It pains me to do so, child... But it is my nature after all. That’s it.. Just let go. Leave the rest to me.” And I did.

The End