PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Purrfect Apawcalypse: Spectrofurobia! Chapter 4

Where it once eased the pain in his chest, the sun had retreated far enough past the surrounding treeline that it was gone, a bare light transforming into dusk. He was glad to be out of the stuffy halls of his new school; however the front stairs were hardly private, but he needed to rest.

His throat stung and he couldn't stop swallowing, though the strained muscles beneath his eyes and the tear ducts they contained were far worse. He covered his left eye with a paw, extending his claws and digging them into his fur. So badly, he wanted to tear his eye out and strip the flesh from his arm in some misguided attempt at feeling like it was still just Halloween, and that all that mattered was revenge.

Patches slammed his paw onto the cold stone staircase, digging his claws into the imperfections it had, and clinging to those like otherwise he'd fly off into space. His legs shook- he felt like they'd leap from him, like the spell holding him together would vanish and he'd be shredded paper on the street.

The door swung open behind him, and he took a deep breath, loosening his grip on the stonework before redoubling it. Some primordial instinct told him he was embarrassing himself, but it wasn't a voice strong enough to distract him from tensing his muscles or grinding his teeth. He stopped breathing and shut his eyes, enduring the judging gaze boring itself into his neck, pleading that they would leave so he could resume his attempts at putting his body back together.

"Uh..."

Oh Dog damn it. No, no no no, he didn't need this now- some useless stray trying to-

"Hey, uh, it's me... again?" she murmured, like an idiot. He just needed to pull himself together and leave,

He let go of the concrete with one arm, and it forgot who it was, spinning off into purrgatory and unravelling the rest of his body with it. He held on for dear life with his other, clenching his eyes and teeth, desperately trying to think about anything else other than what he had become.

"... Angel?"

His claws shifted, grinding against the concrete and tearing bits from it. No longer held down, his whole body escaped from him, leaping into the air and swiping at the turkish van, wildly misjudging the distance and falling short by numerous feet. The collar, however, never missed, and Riley caught an eyeful of Patches swinging his arm, then grunting and grimacing and tripping over the staircase.

Riley gasped, covering her mouth as the cat fell face-first onto the jagged stonework. His weak body had its wind taken by the impact, and dragged him back to reality.

"Are you okay?" she asked, reaching out with a paw. He would've bat it away, but he could barely register anything but the pain from the shock.

After she had lifted him up and onto his knees, Patches swayed back and forth, collecting himself while his mind remained blank. Once the prickles of glitter stopped swirling around the corners of his eyes, her shocked expression came into focus, and he rubbed at his face, touching something wet.

"Dog damn it," he cursed, letting the blood from his nose pool into his palm. His voice was nasally, irritated, and dull. "What do you want?"

"Holy cats! A-Are you okay?" she said again, slightly more crackly.

Stress still stretched his muscles, his claws bruised from the tension they had sustained, and two of them were cracked at the tip. Patches' grey orbs darted down to the paw beneath his snout, his body welling with anger and then flushing with pain. Tears came almost immediately after, and Patches could barely stammer a curse as the blood sunk into his fur and dripped down his shirt. He choked out an unintelligible insult, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to remain calm.