Chapter seven: Haunting Dreams and Hunting Discoveries
I was in a field that felt lumpy and slimy under my paws. Every now and then I stepped on something that crunched. With horror, I saw that I was standing in a field made entirely of the corpses of cats. I recognized many rotten faces, even of cats that I knew to be alive.
Suddenly, the field began to shake. The corpses began to tear and crumble as the ground shifted. Then, with a dull explosion, a figure rose from the ground. It was Gregor Johann Mendel, the man from the painting in Skimbleshankses house. Corpses flew in all directions as Mendel stood towering over me, several stories high.
"Mistofelees!" he called down to me, "The answer to the riddle is quite simple. It's in the word Felidae!" As he spoke, he flicked an enormous finger at a body on his shoulder and the head popped off. Blood sprinkled down like rainwater falling from a gutter. I hissed and spat, but found myself unable to move.
"Evolution has created an astounding number of creatures," Mendel boomed, "Not one however deserves the respect and appreciation as the family Felidae." Clapping his enormous hands, two crosses appeared and began to extend tendrils of string. "Do not forget the message of Jellicle! Now up!"
With a flick of the wrist, the corpses were drawn up by their rotting arms and began twisting and dancing. I yowled in fear as the corpses surrounded me, their ghostly cries echoing in my head. The disgusting puppets were dripping their innards all around me, splashing into puddles of their own blood. I couldn't move without having drops of blood fall onto me.
"Hybrid plant experiments!" Mendel laughed, "Why is it that these peas in a pod are exactly like peas in a pod?"
He kept laughing as he swung his puppets wildly. They began falling apart; scattering limbs and bones with flesh still attached everywhere. I was disgusted and terrified. With a final shriek, Mendel flung all the corpses into the air and the bodies tumbled to the ground with a sickening splat.
* * *
I sat up with a gasp, hearing nothing but the pattering of the rain outside.
"Another dream," I thought, moaning and scratching myself behind the ear.
Gustav was still sleeping, although it was already midday. I didn't feel much like disturbing him, so I left the bedroom and headed toward the basement. My mind was going a mile a minute. I knew my dreams had to mean something, but I couldn't think what. All great thinkers have different copping strategies when their brains can't relax. So, I had decided to what I always do when my brain aches. I went hunting.
The basement was dark and gloomy, a perfect rat habitat. Sniffing about, I caught a strong smell of rat and the chemical smell from the upper levels. Then I saw them, sitting behind some boxes, not in a care in the world. I started slinking forward, dragging my belly across the floor. I began salivating, the odor making me lash my tail in excitement.
The largest rat lifted its head up when my tail smacked the floor. I sprung, but missed and the rats scattered in all directions. I chased the big one around the basement, leaping up onto a table and scattering the contents everywhere.
The big rat stopped when he thought he was safe. That's when I sprung. I seized the rat by the neck and slammed it against the ground. The rat was dead in less than two seconds. I started digging my fangs into the rats' weak neck, the savory blood dribbling down my chin.
"This laboratory is my dream . . ."
The voice startled me. Dropping the rat, I looked around. When I knocked about the stuff on the table, I had reactivated a television that had appeared broken. The screen showed a laboratory full of cages.
"This could be a clue!" I thought excitedly. I jumped up onto a chair and continued watching.