Emily stood at her back door, clad in Eeyore pajama bottoms and a loose tank top, calling her cat plaintively, "here Pumpkin!" A small, fluffy black and orange cat came prancing forwards at the sound of her voice, "come on in Baby-Doll, it's time for bed." This was their routine, had been for years now, She'd call the cat in at dusk, give her dinner, play with her for a little while and then head to bed. Emily poured some kibbles into Pumpkins bowl and put it on the chair she preferred to eat in. Pumpkin jumped up in the chair and began munching away at her food, purring as Emily petted her and called her a spoiled little princess. Abruptly, she froze, suddenly tense. She shrugged away from Emily's hand and started towards the little window nearby, where she perched in the window sill and stared emphatically at something outside.
"Whatcha see Boodle? A big scary bird? Or another leaf like you brought me yesterday?" Emily said as she made her way over to see what the cat was so enraptured by. It was pitch black outside, and there was probably nothing to be seen anyways, cats have been known to simply sit and stare at nothing she told herself, though she had a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She wrote it off as a side effect of to many crime shows and returned her attention to Pumpkin, trying to grab hers by throwing her favorite toy across the room, instantly bringing the cat back to the task at hand, protecting Emily from ferocious feathery pink rattle balls. As the cat became tiered from a hard days work chasing leaves and yelling at squirrels, Emily picked up the little fluff ball and headed up to a much deserved nights sleep.
Some time later Emily awoke to a loud growl and an awful screech that had her instantly looking around for her cat, who, despite having slept practically glued to her torso for the last three or so years, was inexplicably absent. Out of bed like a rocket Emily sprinted down stairs, frantically calling out her various nicknames for the cat, searching for the noise she was positive had come from inside the house. As she rounded the corner to the laundry room, the only place she had yet to search, she saw something she hadn't even thought to fear. Pumpkin was curled up in a ball on her fresh laundry, drenched in blood. In fact, the blood was everywhere, Emily noted in the back of her mind as she ran to her cat hoping against all odds that her beloved companion was intact. As she got closer she saw the cat breathing evenly, almost as if she were asleep. When she arrived at the cats chosen resting place she opened one eye, then the other blearily, clearly not in pain, just irritated at being awoken.
A wave of relief swept over Emily as she came to the realization the blood was not her cats. Then one of horror consumed it as she realized...
The blood was not her cats.
