-Tess-
"Earlier today there was terrible massacre at a Borderline book store in Manhattan customers and employees a like perished in this tragedy the killer is unidentified is still at large..."
The Anchor on the television said while gruesome footage flashed across the screen.
A grey cat curled on top of the television sleeping. On the counter where the television was place another cat a tiger stripe sat was on the left and a tabby was sprawled out the right side.
These cats where everywhere in the kitchen, taking up nearly every flat surface. Expect for where their owner sat, on a kitchen chair watching the footage with a look of horror on her face and a tortoise shell patterned feline in her lap and two more perched on her shoulders.
She still wore her hair in very short cut, but now it was turning grey and she still needed glasses all though the prescription was much stronger then what she needed as a young woman, and she was no longer quite so thin, and her attire wasn't entirely black (It showed cat hair to well). She was still Tess.
It had been a result of the string unsuccessful relationships and friendships, especially the last one when she caught her fiancée in bed with her 'best friend' at time that was nearly twenty years ago. She had given up the whole concept of a social life and turned to animal companionship. At first she had one cat, but it seemed lonely so she got another and another after that.... now there were too many to count really.
Her hands dug into the cat's fur, and it gave a surprised cry of pain and dug its claws into her. She batted it off her lap. The events on the screen were all too familiar. These murders, these mass slaughters were just like the ones twenty years ago when on the west-coast. That was when she was younger and confused. It brought back, that dream, something that had to be dream... that she and someone else... was being held prisoner by the raving psychopath who committed those crimes, she could remember running through the bowels of his house trying to escape... something... something unatural... some Lovecraftian horror... and then... and then... the universe was dissolving around her.
For some reason this dream was more vivid and real seeming then most of her actual memories, it had not dimished after years and therapy . She could still the lunatic's face raving inchs from her own. She could still smell blood, and hear the screams.
"It was just a dream, just a stupid dream. My subconcious was just vomiting up that whole thing. It was just a combination of stress and what I had for dinner that night," She told herself softly. "Hey, Moofy c'mere. Come to Momma."
Tess said and reached a trembling hand to a near by tabby. She was still shaking violently when she gathered it in her arms and stroked it's fur repeatedly. And then Tess rose to her feet, still cradling the cat in her arms and slowly made her way to the televison, watching her every step nerves set of edge.
The front door slammed and she nearly jumped out of her skin. In the few seconds it took to catch her breath, and slow her heart beat down. The more rational part of the brain, had taken over. She realized who had slammed the door, it was just Morgan, the boy she had taken in as a foster child. Wait a mintue...wasn't it?
"Morgan is that you?" She called out tentativily.
"Yes, " It was him and a wave of relief washed over her. "I am sorry I did not come back sooner." He said in his ever calm polite voice.
"God, don't slam the door like that! It's bad for the house." She said returning to an irritated, but normal tone.
"I did not mean to, I was not thinking. I am very sorry, it will not happen again." Morgan whimpered.
"It's not that big a deal," Tess sighed. Morgan had an annoying habit of being overly contrite, as if every little mistake he made was a mortal sin. "I made you some dinner about a hour ago, you can come in and warm it up if you like."
"Thank you, Ms.Tess." He said and entered the room.
Morgan was fifteen and he was a very pretty, boy. He had large blue eyes that carried some deep sadness in them. His hair was blonde, and straight he wore it combed down, neatly parted at a length that fell just below the ear, it was like a bowl cut but better. He was slender, small, fragile seeming and lately had taken to wearing dark colors.
Tess liked him; she had been taking in foster children for the money mostly for years. Children weren't as bad adults genereally and if they didn't seem to have any severe problems and weren't allegeric to cats then it was fine. At first she didn't want to take in any adolescences, especially boys. Most of them were to broken and to dangerous. Morgan was the expection to the rule, she had gotten him when he was thirteen. She didn't want him at first but he looked so sad, and lost. He was quiet, he didn't cause any trouble, polite to a fault, and helpful. The only real trouble was in the first year when he had woken up screaming but that was while ago.
He ate macaroni and cheese from a plate which he had mircowaved himself without speaking. They usually didn't talk during dinner, but usually the television was on or something, this silence was maddening.
"So how was school?" Tess asked slowly.
Morgan paused and looked at her, a few strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.
"It was okay." He said casually enough.
"Okay, that's fine," Tess said rocking slightly. "What did you do after school?"
"Things," Morgan said and took another bite. "I saw some friends, and I hung out with them. I lost track of time, and did not call you. Now, I think I will do the dishes, and go to my room and do my homework, I have a lot of it."
He got up from the table, dish in hand and promptly began doing the dishes. "Thanks, for the food, it was delicious." He said and hummed to himself.
When he was finished, he headed up stairs to do his homework, he promised not to play his radio to loud. But she could hear it booming down, from his room.
It was later that evening, she was watching television again and when she heard a familiar scratching at the back door.
"It's just a cat... nothing to be worried about." She told herself, but she was worried, the news reports, the odd feeling of déjà vu as she slowly made her way to the door. It wasn't a cat... it was a person their legs were in shackles, their arms were in a straight jacket, and the person's mouth was gagged. They were covered with dried blood, and it looked like someone had cut their face until it looked like ground meat.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Tess said in a terrified whisper.
This was getting to much like that vivid dream she had. Whoever this was, they had managed to drag themselves here. She should help them a little, call the police and such. She bent down to undo the gag and they whimpered a shadow had fallen over them. Tess turned around… Oh fuck… no… he was back… he couldn't be… There he was with the knives in his hand… the spiked… black hair….. There was pain and as the knives cut in… all that blood more cuts… it was getting dark… He didn't stop this time… She saw his face before everything went black… Morgan…oh god… Morgan… where was Morgan?
"Earlier today there was terrible massacre at a Borderline book store in Manhattan customers and employees a like perished in this tragedy the killer is unidentified is still at large..."
The Anchor on the television said while gruesome footage flashed across the screen.
A grey cat curled on top of the television sleeping. On the counter where the television was place another cat a tiger stripe sat was on the left and a tabby was sprawled out the right side.
These cats where everywhere in the kitchen, taking up nearly every flat surface. Expect for where their owner sat, on a kitchen chair watching the footage with a look of horror on her face and a tortoise shell patterned feline in her lap and two more perched on her shoulders.
She still wore her hair in very short cut, but now it was turning grey and she still needed glasses all though the prescription was much stronger then what she needed as a young woman, and she was no longer quite so thin, and her attire wasn't entirely black (It showed cat hair to well). She was still Tess.
It had been a result of the string unsuccessful relationships and friendships, especially the last one when she caught her fiancée in bed with her 'best friend' at time that was nearly twenty years ago. She had given up the whole concept of a social life and turned to animal companionship. At first she had one cat, but it seemed lonely so she got another and another after that.... now there were too many to count really.
Her hands dug into the cat's fur, and it gave a surprised cry of pain and dug its claws into her. She batted it off her lap. The events on the screen were all too familiar. These murders, these mass slaughters were just like the ones twenty years ago when on the west-coast. That was when she was younger and confused. It brought back, that dream, something that had to be dream... that she and someone else... was being held prisoner by the raving psychopath who committed those crimes, she could remember running through the bowels of his house trying to escape... something... something unatural... some Lovecraftian horror... and then... and then... the universe was dissolving around her.
For some reason this dream was more vivid and real seeming then most of her actual memories, it had not dimished after years and therapy . She could still the lunatic's face raving inchs from her own. She could still smell blood, and hear the screams.
"It was just a dream, just a stupid dream. My subconcious was just vomiting up that whole thing. It was just a combination of stress and what I had for dinner that night," She told herself softly. "Hey, Moofy c'mere. Come to Momma."
Tess said and reached a trembling hand to a near by tabby. She was still shaking violently when she gathered it in her arms and stroked it's fur repeatedly. And then Tess rose to her feet, still cradling the cat in her arms and slowly made her way to the televison, watching her every step nerves set of edge.
The front door slammed and she nearly jumped out of her skin. In the few seconds it took to catch her breath, and slow her heart beat down. The more rational part of the brain, had taken over. She realized who had slammed the door, it was just Morgan, the boy she had taken in as a foster child. Wait a mintue...wasn't it?
"Morgan is that you?" She called out tentativily.
"Yes, " It was him and a wave of relief washed over her. "I am sorry I did not come back sooner." He said in his ever calm polite voice.
"God, don't slam the door like that! It's bad for the house." She said returning to an irritated, but normal tone.
"I did not mean to, I was not thinking. I am very sorry, it will not happen again." Morgan whimpered.
"It's not that big a deal," Tess sighed. Morgan had an annoying habit of being overly contrite, as if every little mistake he made was a mortal sin. "I made you some dinner about a hour ago, you can come in and warm it up if you like."
"Thank you, Ms.Tess." He said and entered the room.
Morgan was fifteen and he was a very pretty, boy. He had large blue eyes that carried some deep sadness in them. His hair was blonde, and straight he wore it combed down, neatly parted at a length that fell just below the ear, it was like a bowl cut but better. He was slender, small, fragile seeming and lately had taken to wearing dark colors.
Tess liked him; she had been taking in foster children for the money mostly for years. Children weren't as bad adults genereally and if they didn't seem to have any severe problems and weren't allegeric to cats then it was fine. At first she didn't want to take in any adolescences, especially boys. Most of them were to broken and to dangerous. Morgan was the expection to the rule, she had gotten him when he was thirteen. She didn't want him at first but he looked so sad, and lost. He was quiet, he didn't cause any trouble, polite to a fault, and helpful. The only real trouble was in the first year when he had woken up screaming but that was while ago.
He ate macaroni and cheese from a plate which he had mircowaved himself without speaking. They usually didn't talk during dinner, but usually the television was on or something, this silence was maddening.
"So how was school?" Tess asked slowly.
Morgan paused and looked at her, a few strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.
"It was okay." He said casually enough.
"Okay, that's fine," Tess said rocking slightly. "What did you do after school?"
"Things," Morgan said and took another bite. "I saw some friends, and I hung out with them. I lost track of time, and did not call you. Now, I think I will do the dishes, and go to my room and do my homework, I have a lot of it."
He got up from the table, dish in hand and promptly began doing the dishes. "Thanks, for the food, it was delicious." He said and hummed to himself.
When he was finished, he headed up stairs to do his homework, he promised not to play his radio to loud. But she could hear it booming down, from his room.
It was later that evening, she was watching television again and when she heard a familiar scratching at the back door.
"It's just a cat... nothing to be worried about." She told herself, but she was worried, the news reports, the odd feeling of déjà vu as she slowly made her way to the door. It wasn't a cat... it was a person their legs were in shackles, their arms were in a straight jacket, and the person's mouth was gagged. They were covered with dried blood, and it looked like someone had cut their face until it looked like ground meat.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Tess said in a terrified whisper.
This was getting to much like that vivid dream she had. Whoever this was, they had managed to drag themselves here. She should help them a little, call the police and such. She bent down to undo the gag and they whimpered a shadow had fallen over them. Tess turned around… Oh fuck… no… he was back… he couldn't be… There he was with the knives in his hand… the spiked… black hair….. There was pain and as the knives cut in… all that blood more cuts… it was getting dark… He didn't stop this time… She saw his face before everything went black… Morgan…oh god… Morgan… where was Morgan?