As It Was, So It Is

Disclaimer: some parts will not have the same dramatic effect as they originally did because I was texting this story to my friend in pieces, not in block text.

The pic has a white background with the words "You're lying on the sofa under a blanket, lights dimmed, watching your favorite TV show. Your cat is laid across you, sleeping but purring quietly. All is calm. All is good." written in black. He assumed that this pic would be soothing but I have a chill that goes down my spine, the setting is too perfect, everything is too nice. It just seemed like it was setting up for a good horror story.

So a horror story I wrote.

You're lying on the sofa under a blanket, lights dimmed, watching your favorite TV show. Your cat is laid across you, sleeping but purring quietly. All is calm. All is good.

Then you start to hear noises from upstairs.

Quiet...

Scratching

You live alone with your cat

You are out in the middle of the country side

Your nearest neighbor is a cornfield away

The scratching gets louder

You know your house was built on an ancient burial ground

You don't want to get up

You know if you do, The Thing won't leave you alone...

Last time you saw it, it was feeding on one of your chickens out back

The blood was dripping off its long sharp claws...

At first you thought it was human

Then you noticed how feral it seemed

How...savage

You turned away from the window as fast as you could

You've heard the stories

You just hope that it's not The Thing that's upstairs making the scratching noise

You hope it's just rats or mice or any other wild animal

Just...not The Thing

You turn the TV up, hoping to drown out the noise

The scratching is still clearly heard...too clearly to be from upstairs

The TV's picture fades in and out a couple times before staying a solid clear picture

The scratching gets louder

You hear a low growl from behind you

If you didn't know better, you would think it's a truck pulling into the drive

But you know better

Your leg hurts from where your cat has dug her claws into you, her back rigid

A threatening growl rises from her to match The Thing's

You don't want to look

You don't want to know

You can see a glimmer of The Thing reflecting off your cat's eyes

You close your eyes in hopes The Thing will just disappear

Your cat is tensing, digging her claws in further

You really want to grab her for protection but you don't want to move

You can feel a moist breath of air against your neck

Then the cold touch of a sharp claw

Just one

Gently sliding along your jugular

You can almost feel The Thing inhale your scent

A strange guttural noise comes from just behind your ear

If it was human, it would be a malicious laugh

The claw starts to press harder, a bead of blood starts to pool and drip

You can't see it but you can feel it

You're frozen in fear

You feel your cat move

She pounces

Straight towards The Thing

Your breath catches as your cat's comforting growl is cut short, never to be heard again

The Thing moves

You can feel it

There is a slippery wet feeling all along your neck, tracing the blood... and more

You hope against hope that The Thing leaves you alive

You don't want to die

The slick that was left on your neck starts to burn

You want to get it off but you don't want to move in fear of angering The Thing

The burn intensifies

You are squirming in your seat, trying not to move too much

Eventually, you give up, you can't stand the burn anymore

You fear what the burning stuff will do more than The Thing's wrath

You try to wipe it off, the slime is thick and it's burning your hands with the same intensity

You don't know when you opened your eyes but your vision is blurred by tears

The burn is spreading

Down your back, up your arms, across your chest

You start grabbing things to try to wipe it off, blankets, pillows, even the sofa

Nothing works, you can't feel your neck anymore

You can feel your fingers, the tips are getting really painful, they're stretching and getting sharp

Your whole body is burning, stretching, changing

You black out, the pain is too much

The next night, you wake up.

You look around, the stars are beautiful.

The earth is beautiful.

It is yours.

Your territory.

The Thing is there, it is no longer terrifying.

You look at it, it has brought you a gift.

It is a small thing.

You look at it with a slight repressed attachment.

You shrug the feeling away. Emotions mean nothing to you.

You unhinge your jaw and consume it in one bite. It is delicious.

The thought that crosses your mind is "apparently cats do taste like chicken"

You have accepted The Thing as yours.

It is your pet now.

You go back to your house, You sit on the sofa under a blanket that has a couple spots of dried blood, lights off, watching your favorite TV show. Your Thing is laid across you, sleeping but grumbling quietly. All is calm. All is good.