We Don't Need These Happy Endings.
Chapter 2
Mikey looked up at the cat-man from his seat, his eyes wide in panic. “Y-y… you’re sure? But… but how?”
The man nodded, sliding his large, pale hands into his jacket pockets. “I saw her myself…” He started quietly before Mikey interrupted, saying “It could have been-”
“She reeked of blood and hell.” Gerard cut in with a whisper, avoiding Mikey’s eye contact, choosing instead to look at the floor. A large cockroach scurried across the top of his right boot, far less scared of him now that he was no longer a cat. As it ran past, he lifted his foot and squished the bug against the ground. Other than this stomp, and the two men’s breathing there was silence. Mikey broke the eerie quiet first. “She didn’t see you?” he asked the man, who shook his head, some of his raven hair falling into his eyes. “Nope.” He smiled slightly.
“Well we have to warn the others…” He said immediately, annoyed that the other man could smile at such a time. “The house is the first place she’ll check… she’ll kill them to find you…”
The other man nodded solemnly. He closed his eyes tightly, and he started to shrink rapidly, his hands and feet becoming paws. His body started growing a thick black fur, and whiskers emerged from the sides of his face. A tail too appeared and lengthened. Beside him, Mikey was going through the same transformation, and soon a midnight-black cat stood defiantly facing the door, and beside him a scruffy, mottle brown cat sat, washing its front paws.
“Mikey!” the older man scolded him through their thought communication. Mikey looked at him as sheepishly as a cat can. “Sorry. There was dirt…” he thought back. The only response he got to this was a meow that was unmistakably a sigh of annoyance.
The two cats hurried out of the building and off into the night. They ran across roads, and people’s yards, as they made their way through suburbia, and, in Mikey’s case, barely avoided becoming road kill. They stopped when they got to a large brick house with an Italian flag sticking up proudly from the grass. Mikey started to run towards the front door, but the other darted after him, and stopped Mikey by pouncing on him violently. “STOP!” he yelled at Mikey through thought, and hissed loudly; both these noises covered up the loud yowl that Mikey had let out. “Don’t you smell that? She’s inside.” Mikey froze, and sniffed the air, before closing his eyes solemnly. “But… Mom and dad…” the thought signal was weak: in ‘human terms’ Mikey would have been whispering.
“It’s too late, Mikey… It’s too late…” he answered his brother just as quietly. The two heard a noise from the house.
“RUN!” Mikey yelled at his older brother, and the two cats took off as fast as they could. It was apparent, though, that they weren’t just running, but that they were running to somewhere.
They soon got to a small house that was mid-slum, mid-suburbia. They ran across the front driveway, and through the “kitty door” at the front. They started changing into human form, faster than before. A short man, around five foot four, ran to the door, having heard them come in. He was wearing a black and red striped sweater, black jeans with rips exposing his knees, and red converse shoes. His longish black hair was messy and uncombed. He had ‘plugs’ in terms of earrings, and also wore a silver lipring. On his neck a tattoo of a black scorpion was easily visible. Unlike the other two, he wasn’t completely clean-shaven, and proudly displayed a two-day stubble.
“Mikey! Gerard!” he grinned. “Haven’t seen you in a few days! What’s up?!” he asked his two friends excitedly.
“You have to get out, now.” Gerard said urgently, although it came out in a slight cat-like fashion. “You and the others. We have to leave now.” His voice became more and more human as he spoke. The short man looked suddenly scared. “Why? What’s wrong?!”
“Daeva” Mikey choked out, flushing bright red. “She’s back! And you have to run, she’s already… she already went to our parent’s house…” He spluttered, forcing back tears. The short man pulled Mikey in for a hug. Mikey leaned against his shoulder, crying.
As this went on, Gerard had disappeared, and was running around the house gathering everyone: Ray, a tall guy with a red ‘fro. Bob, a burly, unshaven man with light hair. And of course the girls. Frank, the short man’s wife, was called Jamia. She had black, shoulder-length hair, and was pretty much always smiling. Then there was the woman Mikey was married to, an absolutely beautiful girl with long black hair and a nose-ring, named Alicia. The nine of them piled into the run-down van Ray had bought after saving up for months. The bus was normally cramped with seven, but with Mikey and Gerard in the trunk as two friendly looking cats, there was no problem.
“What’s this?” Bob asked, pointing to a white bag a their feet. “Food.” Jamia replied. “Just in case.” Bob started going through the bag. “Milk, eggs, cheese, canned food… Jam? You brought jam?”
Jamia just shrugged. "Just in case?" she said again, grinning.
Ray Toro laughed, although uneasily: everyone was still in shock in horror from everything that was happening. He put his foot on the accelerator, and the van-load of people, food, and jam drove off into the sunrise.
The man nodded, sliding his large, pale hands into his jacket pockets. “I saw her myself…” He started quietly before Mikey interrupted, saying “It could have been-”
“She reeked of blood and hell.” Gerard cut in with a whisper, avoiding Mikey’s eye contact, choosing instead to look at the floor. A large cockroach scurried across the top of his right boot, far less scared of him now that he was no longer a cat. As it ran past, he lifted his foot and squished the bug against the ground. Other than this stomp, and the two men’s breathing there was silence. Mikey broke the eerie quiet first. “She didn’t see you?” he asked the man, who shook his head, some of his raven hair falling into his eyes. “Nope.” He smiled slightly.
“Well we have to warn the others…” He said immediately, annoyed that the other man could smile at such a time. “The house is the first place she’ll check… she’ll kill them to find you…”
The other man nodded solemnly. He closed his eyes tightly, and he started to shrink rapidly, his hands and feet becoming paws. His body started growing a thick black fur, and whiskers emerged from the sides of his face. A tail too appeared and lengthened. Beside him, Mikey was going through the same transformation, and soon a midnight-black cat stood defiantly facing the door, and beside him a scruffy, mottle brown cat sat, washing its front paws.
“Mikey!” the older man scolded him through their thought communication. Mikey looked at him as sheepishly as a cat can. “Sorry. There was dirt…” he thought back. The only response he got to this was a meow that was unmistakably a sigh of annoyance.
The two cats hurried out of the building and off into the night. They ran across roads, and people’s yards, as they made their way through suburbia, and, in Mikey’s case, barely avoided becoming road kill. They stopped when they got to a large brick house with an Italian flag sticking up proudly from the grass. Mikey started to run towards the front door, but the other darted after him, and stopped Mikey by pouncing on him violently. “STOP!” he yelled at Mikey through thought, and hissed loudly; both these noises covered up the loud yowl that Mikey had let out. “Don’t you smell that? She’s inside.” Mikey froze, and sniffed the air, before closing his eyes solemnly. “But… Mom and dad…” the thought signal was weak: in ‘human terms’ Mikey would have been whispering.
“It’s too late, Mikey… It’s too late…” he answered his brother just as quietly. The two heard a noise from the house.
“RUN!” Mikey yelled at his older brother, and the two cats took off as fast as they could. It was apparent, though, that they weren’t just running, but that they were running to somewhere.
They soon got to a small house that was mid-slum, mid-suburbia. They ran across the front driveway, and through the “kitty door” at the front. They started changing into human form, faster than before. A short man, around five foot four, ran to the door, having heard them come in. He was wearing a black and red striped sweater, black jeans with rips exposing his knees, and red converse shoes. His longish black hair was messy and uncombed. He had ‘plugs’ in terms of earrings, and also wore a silver lipring. On his neck a tattoo of a black scorpion was easily visible. Unlike the other two, he wasn’t completely clean-shaven, and proudly displayed a two-day stubble.
“Mikey! Gerard!” he grinned. “Haven’t seen you in a few days! What’s up?!” he asked his two friends excitedly.
“You have to get out, now.” Gerard said urgently, although it came out in a slight cat-like fashion. “You and the others. We have to leave now.” His voice became more and more human as he spoke. The short man looked suddenly scared. “Why? What’s wrong?!”
“Daeva” Mikey choked out, flushing bright red. “She’s back! And you have to run, she’s already… she already went to our parent’s house…” He spluttered, forcing back tears. The short man pulled Mikey in for a hug. Mikey leaned against his shoulder, crying.
As this went on, Gerard had disappeared, and was running around the house gathering everyone: Ray, a tall guy with a red ‘fro. Bob, a burly, unshaven man with light hair. And of course the girls. Frank, the short man’s wife, was called Jamia. She had black, shoulder-length hair, and was pretty much always smiling. Then there was the woman Mikey was married to, an absolutely beautiful girl with long black hair and a nose-ring, named Alicia. The nine of them piled into the run-down van Ray had bought after saving up for months. The bus was normally cramped with seven, but with Mikey and Gerard in the trunk as two friendly looking cats, there was no problem.
“What’s this?” Bob asked, pointing to a white bag a their feet. “Food.” Jamia replied. “Just in case.” Bob started going through the bag. “Milk, eggs, cheese, canned food… Jam? You brought jam?”
Jamia just shrugged. "Just in case?" she said again, grinning.
Ray Toro laughed, although uneasily: everyone was still in shock in horror from everything that was happening. He put his foot on the accelerator, and the van-load of people, food, and jam drove off into the sunrise.