When I opened my "eyes" all I saw were shadows. It felt like I was just floating in an abyss, feeling nothing. Then I saw a light, so I quickly made my way toward it. The first thing I noticed was that it was the middle of the night, and I was standing in the heart of a forest. The air was cool, and the sky above was clear, dominated by the glowing full moon. I gazed up, taking in the pale light, but something felt off. The way my neck was angled, my eye line compared to the towering trees, and my height from the ground—it didn't feel right.
I glanced down, trying to get a sense of what had become of my body, and the sight that greeted me nearly made me jump out of my own skin. I saw paws—cat paws. Large ones, too. My breath caught in my throat as I lifted one paw slowly, watching as it flexed with unnatural ease. But the most jarring parts were the silver-grey fur that covered me, streaked with dark, swirling stripes along my arms. It shimmered in the moonlight, looking almost… fluid.
I stood there, stunned, flexing my paws in front of me as if the motion could somehow bring clarity. My whole body felt different, sleek, and agile, but there was weightlessness to it as if I was barely tethered to the earth. My tail swished behind me, brushing against the ground as if it had a mind of its own. I turned to follow its movement, marveling at the long, striped appendage. This isn't my body—that thought kept pounding through my head like a drum.
I padded through the trees, taking cautious steps, testing this new form. Every movement felt effortless, like my muscles knew exactly what to do, even if my mind didn't. But it wasn't until I came across a small puddle in the clearing that I truly understood the transformation. The water shimmered beneath the moonlight, a perfect mirror.
I leaned in closer, peering down into the reflection.
Staring back at me was a face I instantly recognized, yet couldn't believe was my own. Wide, glowing turquoise eyes, round and unsettlingly large, blinked back at me. My pupils were narrow, predatory slits, glowing faintly in the night. My mouth—no, my grin—stretched impossibly wide, revealing sharp, gleaming white teeth that shimmered even in the faintest light. I turned my head slightly, watching the grin follow, a disembodied smile that seemed to hang in the air, more alive than the rest of my face.
I resembled the Cheshire Cat from those old movies—Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland. That grin, those glowing eyes, the swirling stripes that seemed to ripple across my fur. It all felt surreal like I had become a living, breathing reflection of that creature.
I pulled back from the puddle, disoriented. My heart raced, though I couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement. I inspected myself further, running my paw along the silvery fur, feeling the strength and power hidden beneath the fluid motions of my new body. I felt invincible like I could disappear into the night and reappear wherever I pleased.
But just as I began to grow accustomed to this strange new form, a sharp pain erupted in my head. It felt like a vice clamping down on my skull, squeezing relentlessly. I staggered, my vision blurring as I gritted my teeth, trying to stay upright.
And then, the memories flooded in.
They weren't mine—at least, they hadn't been before. They were older, strangers. Memories of wandering through a land of madness and wonder, a place where logic twisted in on itself. I saw images of tea parties that never ended, endless riddles that never needed answers, and a kingdom ruled by an impossible queen. The original Cheshire Cat's memories—his life, his playful tricks, his disappearing act, his control over the very fabric of reality itself—all burned into my mind. I remembered how he'd faded in and out of existence, how he'd toyed with minds, how he'd bent space around him with a flick of his tail.
I knew now how to vanish. How to leave nothing behind but my grin. How to slip between shadows, reappearing wherever I pleased. How to play with reality like it was a game, always staying just one step ahead of everyone else. These powers—his powers—were mine now. The knowledge settled in like an old instinct awakening after a long slumber.
The pain subsided, leaving me gasping in its wake, but the memories lingered. My mind was a jumble of my thoughts and his, tangled together in a way that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.
I wasn't just a cat. I was something more. Something… dangerous.
And the world, whether it knew it or not, was now my playground.
Once I had recovered I used my new memories to fly into the sky and look around. That's when I saw a town nearby. So I turned invisible and made my way towards the town. 10 minutes later I made it to the town and since I was closer I could see that it was a small town. It wasn't like a big city with a lot of tall buildings, it was smaller with fewer and smaller buildings. It was definitely more…homey.
I then spent the next hour flying over the town so I could see all the locations in the town. It was currently
My last stop was the Sheriff's Station. While I was still invisible I flew through the window and I saw very few deputies. And then when I flew to the back did I see someone that I finally recognized.
Sitting at the back of the sheriff's station, illuminated by the harsh fluorescent light above, was Sheriff Jody Mills. Even though she was hunched over a desk, her presence was unmistakable. She was dressed in her typical uniform—dark khaki pants and a sheriff's badge pinned to her chest, her sleeves rolled up as if to signal her readiness for anything the night might throw her way. Her dark hair, once neatly tied back, had begun to fall loose from its restraint, strands framing her face. She had a tired, determined look about her, the kind you get after long hours with no rest in sight.
Her fair skin was marked with the lightest sheen of sweat, the result of being buried in paperwork for far too long. Her bright eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, still held a sharpness that warned she wasn't one to mess with, even at the tail end of her shift.
She let out a frustrated sigh, her pen tapping against the papers in front of her. The desk was cluttered with files, forms, and reports that seemed endless. Jody mumbled under her breath, her frustration palpable.
"Damn paperwork... never ends. You'd think after a night like this, they'd cut me some slack." She scribbled something furiously, muttering again. "Why did I even sign up for this? Should've just gone home when I had the chance."
She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. Her face betrayed how tired she was, the dark circles under her eyes growing more prominent with each passing moment. Jody stifled a yawn before leaning back down to tackle another stack of forms.
"What I wouldn't give for a good night's sleep," she grumbled, her voice low but tinged with annoyance. "Or at least for these reports to fill themselves out. Is that too much to ask?"
She shook her head and chuckled softly, the sound laced with fatigue. It was clear she was pushing through her exhaustion, holding on to the last bits of her energy to get the job done.
I watched her for a while, hovering invisibly above her as she did her work.
As I watched memories of the original Cheshire Cat's cunning ways flickered through my mind, and I couldn't help but feel an odd sense of amusement at the scene before me. Jody Mills—so serious, so grounded in reality—had no idea how close she was to something far beyond her understanding.
So, I had a compulsion to mess with her a little while she was working. I flew over to her smallest stack of paperwork and I knocked it over.
"Ah! Why!" Jody screamed when the stack of paperwork fell to the ground.
I then snickered and when she heard me laugh she visibly shivered. She quickly stood up and looked around.
"What was that?!" She asked herself while looking around wildly. "I think I'm too tired. I should go back home."
She then quickly finished the last bit of paperwork when she looked at the clock.
"Oh my god! It's 1 in the morning! I need to go home and sleep!" She told herself.
Jody quickly gathered her things, stuffing the remaining paperwork into her bag with a sense of urgency, her eyes darting around the office as if she could catch a glimpse of whatever had caused the noise. She muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she pushed away from the desk and stood up, rubbing the back of her neck. The fatigue was weighing on her heavily now, her body stiff from sitting in the same spot for hours.
She grabbed her keys from the desk, glancing one last time at the scattered papers on the floor with a groan of annoyance, then made her way out of the office. I hovered above, still invisible, watching as she flicked off the lights and locked the door behind her.
Outside, the air was crisp, and the town was eerily quiet at this late hour. Jody made her way to her sheriff's car, and I followed her, unseen. The tires crunched on the gravel beneath her boots as she climbed inside, starting the engine with a tired sigh. The car's headlights cut through the darkness as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the quiet streets.
I kept my distance, drifting through the air, following her as she drove home. The small town was still, most houses dark, their occupants long since asleep. After what felt like an eternity of watching the mundane scene unfold, Jody pulled into the driveway of a modest-looking house on the outskirts of town. She stepped out of the car, her shoulders slumped from exhaustion, and made her way inside, the door clicking shut behind her.
For a while, I lingered outside her home, the moonlight casting long shadows across the front lawn. The night was peaceful, the kind of stillness that begged to be disturbed.
After about ten minutes, I decided to reveal myself.
I made myself visible, my form emerging from the shadows beneath the porch. I padded up to the front door, the cool breeze ruffling my fur, and raised one paw. With a deliberate swipe, I scratched at the wood, the sound loud enough to cut through the silence of the night.
The scratching echoed through the house, and a moment later, I heard the faint sound of footsteps from inside. Jody's voice came from beyond the door, groggy and irritated.
"What now?" she muttered as she made her way down the stairs.
The door creaked open slowly, and there she stood, bathed in the soft light spilling from the hallway. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of me—my large, imposing form taking up most of her porch, my glowing turquoise eyes locking onto hers. The light from inside reflected off my silvery fur, the dark stripes swirling like shadows along my body. And then, of course, there was the grin—wide, impossibly wide, stretching across my face in a way that no normal cat could.
Jody froze, her hand gripping the edge of the door frame as she stared at me, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.
"What... the hell...?" she whispered, her voice low, barely audible. She took a half-step back, eyes darting over my large form, taking in the unnatural size, the glowing eyes, the too-wide grin. She blinked rapidly as if trying to shake off what she was seeing, but there I was, as real as the ground beneath her feet.
For a long moment, we simply stood there, staring at each other. I didn't move, letting the shock settle in, the amusement bubbling beneath the surface as I watched her try to process what was happening.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice still shaky. "What...are you?"