The legend of the old mansion was the talk of the neighborhood — and for good reason. The rambling mess of a home had been abandoned for as long as anyone could remember; the kind of place you give a wide berth as you drive by. Shattered windows, overgrown lawn, boarded-up doors and windows, every inch of it screaming neglect. Sure, it was an eyesore — but far worse than that, it was an invitation.
It was a hot, humid evening in late June when my family and I were retiring for the evening. But before I could turn off my light, I heard the sound of smashing glass. I froze, heart pounding in my ears, as I heard what I could only describe as a cat howl in rage. Before I knew it, I had thrown my dresser in front of the bedroom door, slammed the window shut, and dragged the bed across the room. With the room barricaded, I crawled under the bed, hands over my ears as I heard the muffled thumps indicating whatever it was broke in through the front door.
The wild snarling increased, now mixed with the sound of cracking wood, as I heard my family’s screams from the other rooms. Windows exploded from the house with a terrifying roar, followed by weak thumps that I assumed were from what was left of the mansion. More snarling, and more thumping; then nothing but the sound of horns blaring in the distance.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but was soon surprised by a weak scratching sound. I gripped the covers tighter and willed the rage down as the scratching grew in speed and ferocity. The whole house shook with the continued digging, and then there was a loud snap, then another. The scratching stopped.
I continued to hear intermittent noises of chewing, as I mused over what to do next. I was too terrified to run, but equally terrified to stay. The noises continued for some time until I felt like I had no choice but to leave the safety of the bed. The whole house had come to life. Every creak, scratch, and snap in the walls, no matter how faint, was amplified tenfold. My heart was pounding in my chest as I made my way to the window, heart in my throat.
Stood below was something I had never seen in my 23 years. Tall, well-muscled, and covered in scars — I knew it was some sort of animal. As though sensing my presence, the cat darted across the lawn and pounded on the overgrown bushes that shaded the deck.
That would be my escape.
I picked up my record player and smashed through the window, shattering the glass into tiny shards. I climbed on the window sill, careful not to cut my foot on the glass, then jumped from the window, screaming all the way.
My landing was rough, and I had to roll to the side to avoid getting hit by the cat’s boxy head. It stared at me and let out another deafening yell as I ran down the street, bleeding. I could hear the cat in pursuit, and I knew it would give chase as long as I was in sight, so I cut down an alley and rolled under a bush.
I was safe. For the time being, anyway.
At least, I was safe until it happened.
In the dead of night, I suddenly heard the door to my house violently crash open upstairs. I gripped the couch cushions in a vice-like grip as I listened to the footsteps on the creaking wood. Slamming doors, breaking glass, and the sounds of silverware clattering to the floor were soon accompanied by heavy panting.
The cat was in the house.
“Ryan!” a familiar voice yelled out. I felt a moment of relief. My father thought he could tackle the cat. I heard a grunt, then a familiar yowl of pain.
My heart sank.
I spent the rest of the evening listening to my father being ripped apart by whatever the hell it was. The footsteps stopped only once. I thought it was over, but the furious pounding of their feet on the stairs had returned.
The cat was coming for me.
I attempted to climb out the window, but it was too late. I could hear the cat on the other side of the door, growling and snorting with every step it took. I couldn’t bring myself to look, afraid that if I made eye contact with it I would be cursed with whatever it had. I hugged my knees to my chest and closed my eyes, as a guttural moan began shaking the walls.
