A Short Story....
Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2017 10:45 am
The Hellcat-
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It was a dark and windy twilight in winter, just before dusk. It was cold and miserable...time to get home. As John walked, he scuffled his feet through the dead brown leaves, dragging his feet with a familiar reluctance. A drizzle started just as he approached his house, so no chance to stay out later. Not today, he thought glumly. His toe caught on a chunk of metal in the gutter, and he paused to look. A ring. He wiped it on the edge of his shirt to discover a dull gleam. Nothing fancy, but with a bright golden yellow cat's eye stone with a spot of blood dead center. It was a man's ring, bold and beautiful. It was the eye of something young, he imagined, and wild, and free. It appealed to the boy, and he slid it carefully onto his index finger where it lodged tightly. He felt a spark of pride and ownership. It was a brief joy, soon forgotten, as he slunk into the garage door to the kitchen and set his books on the counter. His father was home. Early. The rough voice that assailed his ears was angry and mean, already half drunk and heedless of the conciliatory notes of his mother. It was going to be a bad one. He could tell. He swallowed and slid past into his room, and then into the closet. In the only safe place when his father was in that kind of mood: out of sight. He heard the abuse heaped on his mother and his stomach roiled. he felt a strange disquiet as he heard blows and the low cries of pain and distress. They were nothing new but today....today was different. His skin heated and his eyes narrowed, as he heard his mother pleading, pleading! He felt the ring in a hand made into a fist and something writhed beneath his skin. Something strong and deadly. Whatever it was gave him strength. He bolted from the closet, and heard the hiss of a wild cat, felt the presence of strength, a source of calm and focus. It enveloped him, and together they stalked towards their long time tormenter. His father started to turn as John tackled him, bearing him down, shouting out in a wordless rage! Their bodies fell together and his dad's head cracked the floor beneath him. The cat's eye ring pulsed in time to his blows as he pounded his father again and again and again. Until he was breathless, and his father was still and bloodied. John had seen the fear in his eyes before it was drowned in the darkness. He left his mother crying, wiping the blood from his dad's nose. He grabbed his coat and left. "Good!" The voice spoke in his mind: "Good, man-child! Never again. Today you are a man! A Man!" And it purred.
....................
It was a dark and windy twilight in winter, just before dusk. It was cold and miserable...time to get home. As John walked, he scuffled his feet through the dead brown leaves, dragging his feet with a familiar reluctance. A drizzle started just as he approached his house, so no chance to stay out later. Not today, he thought glumly. His toe caught on a chunk of metal in the gutter, and he paused to look. A ring. He wiped it on the edge of his shirt to discover a dull gleam. Nothing fancy, but with a bright golden yellow cat's eye stone with a spot of blood dead center. It was a man's ring, bold and beautiful. It was the eye of something young, he imagined, and wild, and free. It appealed to the boy, and he slid it carefully onto his index finger where it lodged tightly. He felt a spark of pride and ownership. It was a brief joy, soon forgotten, as he slunk into the garage door to the kitchen and set his books on the counter. His father was home. Early. The rough voice that assailed his ears was angry and mean, already half drunk and heedless of the conciliatory notes of his mother. It was going to be a bad one. He could tell. He swallowed and slid past into his room, and then into the closet. In the only safe place when his father was in that kind of mood: out of sight. He heard the abuse heaped on his mother and his stomach roiled. he felt a strange disquiet as he heard blows and the low cries of pain and distress. They were nothing new but today....today was different. His skin heated and his eyes narrowed, as he heard his mother pleading, pleading! He felt the ring in a hand made into a fist and something writhed beneath his skin. Something strong and deadly. Whatever it was gave him strength. He bolted from the closet, and heard the hiss of a wild cat, felt the presence of strength, a source of calm and focus. It enveloped him, and together they stalked towards their long time tormenter. His father started to turn as John tackled him, bearing him down, shouting out in a wordless rage! Their bodies fell together and his dad's head cracked the floor beneath him. The cat's eye ring pulsed in time to his blows as he pounded his father again and again and again. Until he was breathless, and his father was still and bloodied. John had seen the fear in his eyes before it was drowned in the darkness. He left his mother crying, wiping the blood from his dad's nose. He grabbed his coat and left. "Good!" The voice spoke in his mind: "Good, man-child! Never again. Today you are a man! A Man!" And it purred.
