Disclaimer: This story is loosely based on the 1982 movie called Cat People from Universal Studios. All of the rights, original ideas, and characters belong to Allen Ormsby and Dewitt Bodeen. I'm using their basic premise and am using just a few of their characters briefly in my story. The rest of the stuff contained within is all mine. No copyright infringement is meant, and I'm writing just for fun and not for any monetary gain.
Auhtor's Note: I have loved the movie Cat People since I was very young. I originally saw it in a censored format, and I actually like that version better than the regular R-rated version. You really don't have to have seen the movie to enjoy this story. Most of it is based on my own creative thinking, expanding on the movie's key themes, using what I really like and cutting out what I don't. I hope readers can have as much fun reading it as I have had writing it. Please leave a review at the end of the chapter and let me know how it hits you. I don't want to give away too much right now in summary, because I want the full brunt of the mystery to work its self out on its own.
Rating: I'm going to start out with this being rated T and see how that works. I might have to bump it up to M in later chapters; mainly for violence and gore. This is a horror story or supernatural story in most of its content, just to warn ya. There is some romance stuff too.
Chapter 1
I felt the strangest sensation of being watched. Just the faintest uneasiness creeping over me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. It didn't feel like a random stare or a wandering eye. It felt almost predatory, like I was being watched by a hunter; as if someone were stalking their prey. Deep down it frightened me, speeding up my pulse, making my heart pound in my chest, and causing blood to rush in my ears.
Trying to brush it aside was not working; it haunted me, kept me on edge. This is silly, I tried to convince myself internally. Who would want to be watching boring, little, old Abigail Laroche? I must be imagining it. These thoughts, of course, didn't really help assuage my fears very much.
Normally, I wasn't very sensitive or that observant to my surroundings; probably not a good thing. Right now, however, I was hyper-aware of what was around me for some reason; all my senses were sharp. Shadows had more definition to them, the birds' singing was louder than normal, and the smell of all the flowers was more distinct. It has to because of the dreams, I suddenly realized. That would explain a whole lot.
Lately, I'd been having very vivid and intense dreams. They were not always the same, and I couldn't recall the particulars, but I knew they were filled with blood and gore, horror and death. Violent and terrifying, they woke me night after night soaked in sweat. Those dreams are making me paranoid. That has to be it.
I wasn't one to have nightmares, at least not usually. I used to sleep soundly and peacefully up until about two months ago. That's when the dreams had begun. There was nothing out of the ordinary about my life; my childhood wasn't a traumatic one, and I hadn't experienced any recent or past tragedies either. So why had the damned dreams started to plague me? The hell if I knew.
"Do you want to stick with the roses and lilies theme, or do you want to branch out into some other area?" the voice of Mimi, a tall, skinny, and dark-skinned wedding planner in a white suit-pant outfit was asking me.
Having been distracted by the eerie feelings and half-remembered fears, I blanked entirely on what she had just inquired about. Luckily, the tall, broad, and handsome man to the left of me, in tan Dockers and a white, button-down, short-sleeved shirt, answered for me. He was my fiancé, Raymond Edward Ferris.
After giving me a very concerned gaze with his hazel-green eyes, he said, "Could we look around a little bit more? I think we're kinda overwhelmed."
"Oh certainly, Mr. Ferris," Mimi gushed. "I'm not trying to push. Of course I'll let you two lovebirds wander through the gardens for a while, and then I'll pick your brains for ideas."
"Thanks, Mimi."
"No problem, Mr. Ferris," Mimi said with zeal, leaving us to meander up and down the rows and rows of colorful flowers.
Ray then turned to me, his face filled with worry. "You okay, Abby? Is something wrong?"
Boy, he knew me so well. Normally, I would be all giddy and talk nonstop about the wedding plans with Mimi; having too many ideas and not being able to make a decision. That was what I had Ray for. Now though, I wasn't paying attention to any details, and I had kind of lost my voice.
"Nothing's wrong," I lied, clearing my throat and plastering a smile on my face. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"You sure that's all it is?" Ray questioned, seeing right through my facade "You've been acting funny since we left the manor this morning. What has you so spooked?"
"Spooked?" That word surprised me, but it was an accurate description of how I felt.
"Yeah, you're jumpy, distracted, and kinda pale, even for you," he joked lightly at the end. Then he returned to being serious very quickly. "Is it the dreams again?"
Man, Ray's batting a thousand today. "Probably," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I didn't get much sleep last night, and I can't seem to shake this creepy feeling I have."
"Should we pick out the wedding flowers another day?" he asked kindly, grabbing one on my hands in one of his big, strong ones. He reached up and gently brushed some stray locks of my honey-blond hair out of my face.
"No, no, no," I argued. "I've been after you for weeks to do this. Now that I've got you here, I'm not leaving until we're done."
Ray chuckled softly at me. "I'm not that bad, Abigail Laroche," he chided me.
"I know," I backpedaled. "Actually, you're quite wonderful, Ray, but we're here now, and I would just like to get things finalized, you know?"
He smiled at me, and then kissed me softly on the lips. "I know," he echoed my earlier statement. "But, if you really don't feel up to this today, we can reschedule."
"I think strolling through the gardens of Fleurs Fraiches, picking out flowers for our wedding is just what I need right now," I insisted stubbornly.
Fleurs Fraiches was the newest and trendiest florist's shop in the heart of New Orleans. It had taken Mimi a long time to get us in, and I wasn't about to leave and come back. Besides, we'd already chosen the flowers for the bouquets and boutonnieres, and I hated to leave things only partially done.
Ray gave me "the look". When I was dead set on something, even if it wasn't wise or prudent, he gave me that look. It was supposed to intimidate me, with his eyes narrowed down to slits, his lips thinned into a grim line, and his cheeks hollowed. Right now, it made me want to laugh, however.
"Really, I'm fine, Ray," I stressed, suppressing my laughter, but smiling anyway.
Offering me his arm in a gentlemanly fashion and smiling too, he led us off down a row of brightly colored flowers. That's what I loved about Ray. He knew my needs and helped me get them met. Just like I knew his needs and could help him meet them too. We'd been friends for so long. Even though Ray had a few years on me, getting married and living with each other day-in and day-out seemed like the natural progression for our relationship. We loved each other deeply. We cared about each other's state of being. I knew I could spend my life with him without nitpicking at everything he did, and I felt he could deal with me the same way.
After picking out some dark pink sweet pea, white jasmine, and deep purple orchids, we decided we had the perfect flower combinations. By this time, I was becoming exhausted, running on only fumes. My vision kept blurring, and I started to feel dizzy. I must have been really sleep deprived. Ray noticed me tittering and sat me down on a bench in the middle of the flower gardens.
"Geez, honey," he said, his voice thick with worry, "you're burning up." He had the back of his hand pressed up against my forehead. "I'll go work out the final details as quickly as possible. You sit here and rest. Then I'm talking you to the doctor's."
"It's not that bad, Ray," I protested. "I just need some rest. You know my metabolism has always been kind of funny."
He gave me "the look" again. Ray knew that I hated going to the doctor's of any kind. "We'll see," was his response. "Stay here and rest. I won't be long." He then kissed the top of my head and hurried to go consult with Mimi.
I leaned my body and head against the bench's back, sliding down a little to do so comfortably. I made sure that I sat modestly in my pastel yellow-colored and thin-strapped sundress. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe deeply. I was way too warm suddenly. True, it was May in New Orleans, and it was nice and humid, but this was like a hot flash or something.
I'm too young to be going through "The Change" as Mom called it, I thought idly. What is wrong with me? Am I getting sick or something? I was beginning to feel a little panic set in. My head started to pound. God, I feel awful. Maybe I should let Ray take me to the doctor's.
"Are you all right?" a strangely suave voice asked, seemly out of nowhere.
My eyes snapped open in surprise. Once they focused, I had to blink to make sure I wasn't seeing things. I saw a young man, probably close to my age, maybe a bit younger, with dark, almost black, shortish hair and the bluest, sparkling, crystal-like, blue eyes I'd ever seen. He was extremely attractive with a tall, well-built frame. The man had a strong, cocky confidence about him. He was dressed in all black; T-shirt, pants, shoes, and a leather jacket. This made me assess him as something of a bad boy — or at least that was image he wanted to portray. It was way too hot to be wearing leather today.
"Are you all right?" he repeated, when I just stared at him. Then, he seemed to slink forward, closer to the bench and me.
I was tempted to give him a smart-assed remark, but he appeared genuinely sincere in asking about my condition. "No, not really," I croaked out. It actually felt good to be honest.
"I couldn't help but notice you sitting here looking like you were in pain or like you were really sick," the young man told me. "Can I help?"
Now I really looked at him; he was serious. He was trying to be a Good Samaritan. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. I'm just really tired."
"You look like you're a helluva lot more than 'just really tired'", he insisted, not hesitating to sit down beside me on the bench. He moved very quickly, but his movements had a graceful quality to them too.
Suddenly, he was in my personal space, feeling my forehead with the back of his hand, like Ray had done. His touch was cool and very soothing. Instead of shying away from him, I found myself pressing my head against his hand even more.
"Wow, you've really got a nasty fever. You're burning up," he whispered into my ear. His eyes seemed to bore into mine when I turned to look at him, and my pulse jumped in a new way. "We need to cool you down, and lucky for you, I think I have just the thing."
He took out a white, cloth handkerchief from out of his jacket's inner pocket. He stealthily stood up and searched around for something. When he spotted a free standing water spout, he strode over to it. It must have been an active spout used to water the flowers, because he turned it on with ease and water flowed from it. He was back at my side in seconds, applying the very cold, but wonderful-feeling cloth to my red hot forehead, moving my short bangs aside.
He held it there for quite a while without saying a word. Then he went and rewetted it, coming back to reapply it. He also mopped it around the rest of my face a little, dabbing it here and there. It was good my hair was up in a ponytail, for it didn't get in the way.
"Is that any better?" he finally spoke. "Do you need me to get you to the hospital or something?"
I smiled at his enthusiastic attitude. "No, but thank you for the offer. I'm actually here with my fiancé, and he can take me if it comes to that. Oh, and yes, I think the cold is helping," I answered in a jumbled manner.
"Oh," he said, the self-assuredness faltering a little, and then it was back. "I didn't realize you had a companion. I just saw you sitting here by yourself and —," he stopped.
"Thought I was a lone damsel in distress?" I finished for him, amused.
"That's about the gist of it," he admitted. "It's not every day you get the chance to assist a beautiful woman like yourself."
I laughed weakly, feeling myself blush. 'Thanks for the compliment."
"You're very welcome," his voice grew huskier as he spoke.
I had to repress the pleasurable shiver his voice had stirred down my back. "My name is Abigail Laroche. My friends call me Abby," I then introduced myself, trying to get a grip.
"Valen Gallier," he replied in kind. "So you're here picking out wedding flowers I take it?"
"You guessed right," I said, surprised at his astuteness. "What about you?"
"I made someone very mad at me, and I'm here trying to make it up to them," he informed me.
"Ahh, with flowers," I caught on.
"Yep," he confirmed.
Our conversation paused as he excused himself to go rewet the handkerchief once more. The sheer coldness of it felt like heaven when he returned. "Thank you," I murmured.
"You're welcome," he told me once again, his crystalline eyes boring into mine all the more. "Has anyone told you, you have the most uniquely green eyes?" he suddenly asked.
My breath caught in my throat. Between his gaze and his hand on my face, I was breathless for a moment. I couldn't answer him. I could only stare into his own set of uniquely colored eyes. Time seemed to stop. I was transfixed. Something primal stirred with in me; instinctual and animalistic. The sheer power and force of it shocked me to my core.
"I see you found a gullible, young man to take pity on you," Ray's voice broke the spell.
Valen was up and off the bench like a gun shot had gone off, but when he turned and faced Ray, he had a smugness about him. "You must be Abby's missing fiancé. It's nice to meet you, after having the pleasure of meeting her."
"Raymond Ferris," Ray replied, offering his hand to Valen to shake. I noticed he did it a little stiffly.
Was Ray jealous? I wondered to myself. I'd never seen him jealous over me before. Nothing was going on here that he should be jealous about. Was there?
"Valen Gallier." Valen took Ray's outstretched hand and shook it. Ray seemed to wince as if Valen had clasped his hand too tightly. Am I seeing things?
"I appreciate you looking after Abigail for me. It's nice to know that she wasn't sitting here all alone, while I finished up our business. She didn't seem to be feeling too well," Ray explained unnecessarily. "I hope it didn't cause you any undo trouble."
"Not at all, Raymond," Valen said, still smug. "It was no trouble in any way. In fact, it was rather enjoyable. She's quite a lovely woman."
Ray's jaw clenched. "I've always thought so. Both inside and out. Now if you will excuse us, I think I need to take her to the doctor's."
"I think I'm okay now, Ray," I said, trying to stand, but was overcome with vertigo.
It was Valen who caught me as I fell, his arms sliding around my waist to hold me up right. "Whoa, there," he told me. "You don't seem okay to me." His breath was in my ear again, causing me to tingle all over. I was very aware of his hands now on my hips, and that I was leaning against his well-built body for support. My heart was pounding in my chest, but not from fear.
"We'd better get her to my car," Ray said, his voice laced with real fear. Was I that bad off?
Valen gathered me up into his arms in one swift movement. My head rested on his shoulder. I could smell his leather jacket and the thick, woodsy smell of him underneath it. I inhaled deeply, feeling calmed by his scent. Then, we were moving. Valen was swift and silent as he ran me out to Ray's car. He had me quickly laid down in the back seat of Ray's BMW Series 1 Convertible. It was a little back seat, but I wasn't that big of a person either.
"Thank you, Mr. Gallier," Ray said. "I appreciate your help. I'll take it from here."
"Do you mind if I follow you to the hospital?" Valen asked. "I assume you're going to take her to the emergency room now, right? I kind of feel invested in her well-being."
"It's a free country, Mr. Gallier, do what you like," was Ray's noncommittal response.
I heard Ray slide into the driver's seat and the BMW's engine roar to life. "Hold on, honey, I'll get you looked after soon," he tried to reassure me, as he shifted the car into gear and tore off out of the parking lot.
The ride to the hospital felt like one of my nightmares. Images blurred passed me and sounds had a hollow, faraway warble to them. My head seemed too tight, the pressure in it building and building. My body had started to ache. I thought maybe I was coming apart at the seams. What is wrong with me? Am I dying? my mind wondered. Today had started out so nice...waking up in Ray's arms...even after one of my nightmares...
Ray's car lurched to a halt, and his door opened and closed with a bang. Then I was scooped up in his arms as he all but ran us through the hospital's emergency room door. "I need some help here!" he hollered. "Something's really wrong with her!"
A man with salt and pepper hair in a lab coat stopped abruptly in front of us, Ray having caught his attention. "What are her symptoms?" he asked professionally.
"She's burning up with fever. She's been dizzy. Her skin is pale. And she fainted," Ray tried to sum up.
"Can you hear me, miss?" the man in the lab coat asked me.
I could hear him, but trying to answer him was like swimming through molasses. His visage came and went from my sight. All I could do was let out a mournful moan.
"I think she is having a seizure," the man in the lab coat declared. "It looks like her eyes are trying to roll up into her head. Get me a gurney and let's get her into an exam room!" he yelled at someone I couldn't see or quite comprehend.
Someone took me from Ray's arms rather abruptly, plunking my body down on a flat surface. I could felt my body shaking itself uncontrollably, but I couldn't make it stop. I felt hands trying to hold me down to try and help, but it hurt. The last thing I could remember was letting out a gut-wrenching scream, and then the world tumbled away into nothing.
When I came to, it took a long time for my vision to coalesce into something real. First, there nothing but whiteness, then haziness, like a mist was over my eyes, and then finally shapes began to appear and become coherent forms. I didn't know where I was or what had happened to me. A hysterical panic started to well up within me, an irrationality.
"Ray!" I found myself crying out in a dry voice. "Ray!" I needed his reassuring presence suddenly. I was hooked up to all kinds of machines that beeped at me. There was also some kind of tubing up my nose and an IV stuck in my right arm.
"Easy, Abigail. It's okay. Just relax," a voice said that was not Ray's, but one that had a strange calming affect on me nonetheless. "You're perfectly safe. You're okay."
I looked to the source of the voice and found that it was indeed not my Raymond, but the leather-clad, young man from the flower shop. My brain somehow produced his name. "Valen? Where's Ray? Where am I?" I was panicking again.
A hand brushed soothingly along my one side of my face. "Shhh. It's okay, Abigail. Ray's just gone to the cafeteria for some more coffee. He'll be right back. I'm here," Valen told me gently. "You're at Saint Jerome's hospital. You had an extremely high fever that led you to have an epileptic fit."
All that came out of my mouth was, "I did?"
"Yes, you did," Valen said coyly, his eyes widening for a moment, mocking me. "You almost gave poor, old Ray a heart attack. I think I saw quite a few more gray hairs appear mixed in with that brown mop on his head."
I realized that it was Valen's hand stroking my cheek. It seemed so natural for him to be here, comforting me, but something deep inside me knew that it shouldn't. It was an internal battle suddenly; I was fighting with myself. Part of me wanted to pull away from him and his touch, and another part of me was more than content to have him keep up the pleasurable sensation.
"Why are you here?" I asked with more accusation than I had intended.
"I wasn't about to leave and be on my way with you in the condition that you were in," Valen defended himself, but in a teasing manner. "What kind of man would you have thought of me as? I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay."
"You don't know me from Adam," I argued. "Why do you even care? I'm a total stranger to you."
Valen gave me a hurt look, but something told me it was all an act. "Can I help it if you made a lasting impression on me? I like you. You were fun to talk to. I just wanted to see for myself that you were going to be all right. So sue me."
I looked at him with unhidden doubt. He pretended to squirm under my harsh gaze. "Okay, okay, fine. You caught me. I'm a little smitten with you, so I tagged along to see if the world would be short one angelic beauty or not."
I blushed at his obvious flattery and from his hand sliding down from my temple to my jaw. "Stop that," I ordered him, but it came out weakly.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he queried, again like he was teasing me. He ran his hand up and down my face once more.
"Yes. No. Yes," I blurted out, confused. "Just stop it." I didn't want to like a strange man touching me so intimately, but the hell if I didn't.
Giving me a sly smile, he obeyed my request, resting his hand on the railing of the hospital bed. Part of me sighed, longing for his touch to resume. What in the hell is going on here? What is wrong with me? I don't act like this. I love Ray. I'm marrying Ray in a couple of months. Who in the hell does this guy think he is?
"Happy now?" Valen asked, with almost a smirk.
"Yes. No. Yes," I stuttered again. "Does Ray know you're here?" I suddenly tried to turn it around on him.
Valen chuckled lightly at my reaction. "He does in fact. Although, I don't think the old guy is too keen on my being here."
"Well, I'm not too keen about it either," I informed him, trying to ignore the now smoldering gaze Valen was giving me. "I thank you for your kindness earlier. Don't sully that act by being a dick now."
Valen laughed throatily at my insult. "Okay, look. I'm sorry. I'm a terrible flirt with women that I find to be highly attractive. That was part of the reason I was in the store in the first place."
"Making amends," I remembered.
"Yes. My flirtatious nature got me into some hot water with someone I care about." He hung his head. "I don't want mess this up either. I do like you. I'm glad you're recovering. I've never been involved in something like that. It was scary seeing someone as vicious as you, so near de—," he stopped himself.
"I almost died?" I half shrieked.
"Calm down, Abigail," he chided me. "It seemed like it was touch and go for a while. But you're fine now. No worries."
"What happened to me?" I demanded.
Valen jumped up out of his chair with great ease and moved toward the door. "That's something Raymond should discuss with you. I really am glad that you're okay." He was almost out the door. "Good luck to you, and I hope your wedding goes off well."
Then he was gone. Poof. Just like that. "Wai—," I tried to call out, but it seemed futile.
Now I was even more confused than before. One minute he was in my face, and then the next minute he was gone from my life. I knew absolutely nothing about him, but damn how I wanted know more. Who was he? What did he do for a living? Was he a native of New Orleans? Where did he come from? Who had he hurt and was trying to make up with? Was he really attracted to me? That last thought surprised me. What did I care if a strange man was attracted to me or not? Did that mean I was attracted to him? I had to put a lid on these ideas. I was getting married in a couple of months to my best friend, the perfect man for me. I shouldn't be even considering the thought of another man, let alone, some bad-boy-wanna-be. I was being really stupid.
Maybe the whole situation just caught me off guard. I thought all was well, and so life had to be life and smack me upside the head. I need to be more vigilant and really appreciate all I have in Ray. There it was settled.
At that moment, said man appeared in the door way, looking as haggard as I'd ever seen him. He had bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them, and his hair was mussed. "Abby, you're awake. Oh honey, you scared me to death."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to," I apologized. "Could you fill me in on what happened exactly, please, Ray?"
"Of course," he told me. "Let me go get the, doc." He came and kissed my forehead before disappearing back out into the hallway.
TBC…
Further Notes:
Fleurs Fraiches is French for Fresh Flowers
Gallier is pronounced Gaul-yeah; the r is silent
In this chapter, I haven't used anyone from the 1982 movie. All the characters here are mine.
Don't forget to drop me a short line letting me know what your opinion is about what you read. What was good? What was bad? And so on. Thanks!
Major thanks to my friend Steff for listening my constant storytelling and all her input, and also major thanks to RadcliffePotter for beta reading for me.
