The Dark of You

There was no glory in being stuck in a cat cage at the Humane Society. Then again, being punched and screamed at by Dr. Claw was the entire reason for MAD Cat being here in the first place. He hissed at the memories of having his head pounded in. He curled in the corner as every insult played in his traumatized mind. The one memory that brought wetness to his eyes was when Dr. Claw smashed MAD Cat’s Inspector Gadget toy bank to pieces.

The black and gray feline tucked his face in his paws and allowed his tears to flow freely. These kinds of emotions were forbidden in his former life of crime and villainy. But in this animal shelter with other meowing felines and barking canines, MAD Cat didn’t have any choices when it came to showing vulnerability. The bumps on his noggin and the redness in his eyes did enough of that for him.

His heart fractured in two at the thought of being potentially adopted by a loving family…mainly because he didn’t know what that was supposed to look like. He didn’t know what love was. He had a vague idea of it for all of the times that Dr. Claw petted him. But if that was his only reference point, then he earned every tear that fell from his bloodshot eyes.

MAD Cat wanted a second chance at life. He wanted to be the loving and sweet kitty that his caretakers at the Humane Society needed him to be. Whenever an ordinary human walked by his cage, he would roll over and fake purrs just to put on a show. But when they stuck their fingers through the cage, anger took over with a growl, a hiss, and a vicious claw slash that sometimes drew blood. The caretakers in scrubs would ask what the hell was wrong with him. The would-be owners would let a stream of curses fly as they held their bloody fingers.

While patience would have to be a virtue for every potential pet owner, knowing they could never show patience for a feral warrior like MAD Cat sent him scurrying into the corner of his cage tucking his head. Another opportunity at life squandered forever. Another crying spell with heavy breathing in between teardrops. MAD Cat had never breathed this heavily before. He could slash and claw like a jungle beast, but only after arriving at the shelter did he huff and wheeze after every confrontation. Was he gaining weight? Was the dried kibble in his pink bowl giving him digestive problems? The food was slightly better than what Dr. Claw used to feed him, but why the heavy breathing?

Every day in this rowdy shelter was the same. Slash, hiss, growl, receive dirty looks, get traumatized by the swear words, rinse, lather, repeat. MAD Cat had completely lost track of how long he’d been in this lonely cage of his own making. Even with all of that time passing by, the memories of Dr. Claw’s abuse remained fresh and painful. He rolled around on the carpeted floor trying to feel comfortable every night.

His bumpy spine wasn’t the problem. The lumps on his noggin didn’t help matters, but it was what was inside the noggin that kept him awake most nights and kept his eyes black and red the entire time. More nightmares. More punches. More threats. More of Dr. Claw’s throaty voice yelling and screaming at him in a way that no master should treat an animal. He’d wake up every morning even more tired than before. And yet, he kept his guard up around any human or animal that walked by his cage. His claws were unsheathed and the scent of blood invaded his nostrils.

And then his eyes burned with scalding tears when he saw other animals being freed from their cages and held tenderly by their new owners. Cats rubbed their heads against children’s arms. Dogs licked their parents’ faces and wouldn’t stop. Dogs and cats collectively rolled over in happiness that their special day had finally come. MAD Cat’s day would never come. He didn’t even bother trying to look cute anymore. No more rolling over or faking purrs. Just sitting in the corner with a clenched jaw, bloody claws, and burning eyes. He almost entertained the idea of going back into Dr. Claw’s arms, but then remembered Inspector Gadget raiding the hideout and putting him here in the first place. MAD Cat crossed his paws and seethed with jealousy.

More days went by and more animals not named MAD Cat were being adopted left and right. More hugs, kisses, purrs, and pets, none of which were for the only cat left in the shelter after the days had turned to weeks. No new influx of animals, only caretakers in scrubs celebrating with champagne that they had, “Cleared the shelters.” MAD Cat’s fuse shortened a little more…and he huffed and puffed a little louder.

And then…the day finally came. But it wasn’t an adopter who visited MAD Cat’s cage. It was a scrub-wearing caretaker with thick rimmed glasses, a skinny build, and a nametag that said Mitch. Mitch’s face was long before, but gained a few more inches as he gazed upon MAD Cat with sadness and regret. “I’m sorry, little guy. It’s time to be put down.”

MAD Cat’s eyes widened and he let out a violent hiss at those words. As soon as Mitch opened the cage just a little bit, MAD Cat flew out and slashed at his face, causing a gash to run down his cheek. The taste of freedom was better than any kibble this god-forsaken shelter served and MAD Cat took full advantage as he darted around the room. Other caretakers in scrubs tried to catch him, but he was too fast. One that was fortunate to grab his tail was met with a nasty bite on the wrist that caused a howl of pain.

He ran past more caretakers, bobbing and weaving through their legs and slashing at anybody who came within inches of recapturing him. And then, a guest opened the front door and MAD Cat bolted outside for fresh air. Breathing cool air never felt so good on his burning lungs. But when he did so, it was heavy and wheezy yet again. His legs ached, his stomach boiled, his lungs barely did their job in supplying him with oxygen. All MAD Cat wanted to do was lay in the street and finally get the sleep he desperately needed, even if a nightmare was waiting for him on the other side. Dr. Claw’s beatings didn’t sound so bad after all.

Just when he was ready to drift away, Mitch wrapped him in a towel and said in a gentle voice, “There you are, little guy! It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. We still love you.” Mitch petted MAD Cat behind the ears and the feline’s tears soaked his already battered face yet again. The scratches sent tingles throughout his scalp and the purring was real this time. “You poor thing. You’ve got a lump on your chest.”

Mitch was right. He touched two fingers to MAD Cat’s chest and sure enough, there it was blocking the feline’s breathing. It all made sense now. What didn’t make sense was why it took this long for MAD Cat to experience any kind of loving touch from the human race. As Mitch took him back inside, MAD Cat realized that this would be the only moment of gentleness he would take to the after life. He wanted to leap out of his caretaker’s arms and make another dash for freedom. But he was so tired. His eyes were closing. Pain disabled his limbs. And that damned lump on his chest…that was the final blow that couldn’t be delivered by Dr. Claw.

Mitch took him into the medical wing and laid him on a metal table, unwrapping the towel as a sign of trust. Every staff member MAD Claw had ungratefully bitten and slashed was standing around him not with masks of anger and blood, but with sympathy and sadness. They all reached over and scratched him behind the ears and on his bumpy back. Even though MAD Cat was purring like a lawnmower this time, he still couldn’t shake the nonstop tears.

As part of this procedure, Mitch pulled out his smart phone and played a sorrowful song for MAD Cat to take with him to the afterlife. Some singer named Ben serenaded MAD Cat with lines about being “The Dark of You” while a piano and thunder accompanied these words. Even the caretakers couldn’t help but tear up and wipe their faces with either their fingers or a nearby Kleenex.

Mitch petted MAD Cat on the head and said, “Don’t worry, little guy. It’ll all be over soon. After this is over, you’ll get to go to a magical place where you don’t have to worry about that mean Dr. Claw ever again. You can be happy again. But you have to hold still for me. Okay?” He kissed MAD Cat on the nose and the feline relaxed into a puddle on the table.

One of the caretakers handed Mitch a needle while others gently cradled the fur ball. There was no last hurrah for MAD Cat. No dash for freedom. No bloody battle. Then again, he didn’t want a last hurrah. He didn’t want to repeat the violence of his former master. He did it only because that was all he knew. Happiness had been so foreign to MAD Cat that it would take a needle poke in his arm to help him realize it. And then the caretakers petted him. And then his eyes closed. They didn’t burn this time. There were no tears. There was only peace and quiet. Blackness clouded his vision as the Broken singer named Ben sang him into the afterlife.

MAD Cat’s blackened vision was brightened by a glowing gold light. When he slowly opened his eyes, they didn’t burn anymore. They didn’t leak salty fluids. His breathing wasn’t heavy anymore. His legs and torso didn’t burn with hellish pain. The lumps on his head were flattened. His bumpy spine felt comfy and warm as he laid in a field of grass. This was what it meant to be…happy.

MAD Cat hopped to his feet and did victory laps around the grass field, the sun warming his fur coat and the colorful bridge in front of him guiding him to even more heavenly pastures. The further he crossed that colorful bridge, the more pep he had in his step. Fuzzy friends of all sorts were waiting for MAD Cat, each of them with purrs louder than a machinegun and doggy smiles that kept the scenery bright. MAD Cat didn’t feel like scratching and biting them. Instead when he crossed the bridge, he wrestled with them on the grassy knoll. Any bites and scratches he unleashed were playful and loving, not malicious. He wouldn’t tire out for a long time, but when he did and the moon and stars replaced the sun, he found himself in the fuzziest cuddle puddle and he didn’t want to move.

Dr. Claw would never find him here. Inspector Gadget wouldn’t start any more fights in his presence. No cage could limit his happiness. MAD Cat finally knew what it meant to be wild and free. Maybe in his next lifetime, he could take a permanent vacation from organized crime and snuggle in his new master’s lap. But for now, all he wanted to do was relax, love, and be loved. Was that too much to ask? His new furry friends disagreed. Maybe MAD Cat could take some of them with him when his time to be reborn came along. That was what the world needed right now: more animal babies, less Dr. Claws.

Butterscotch

The tear that burned Abby Cole’s purple and black eye was but a droplet in an ocean of sorrow and silence. Though she kept her head down as she walked hurriedly down the street, she was painfully aware of passersby staring at her wound. Whether it was in pity or disgust, she was too numb to figure out. Their stares made her feel like even more of an outcast than she already was. The difference between the gawking pedestrians and Daniel Park? Abby could easily forget the judgmental masses. After all, they weren’t the ones who threw the punch during school in the first place.

The more Daniel Park’s cold, demonic expression stained her mind, the more her colorful eye burned with pooling tears. His screams earlier that day were barely intelligible, but they were loud enough to leave her ears ringing. His fist was harder than a cinder block and almost put her into a permanent sleep. Getting rid of him would be an easy solution for the school administration, but it would imply that anybody cared. Judging from the cracked infrastructure and unwashed graffiti surrounding the school, the uncaring attitudes of those in charge were more obvious than the all-consuming wound across Abby’s face.

Abby couldn’t even think about anything else at that moment. If she tried to do math homework that evening, she would only be counting the pieces of her face she had to pick up. If she tried to do history homework, then she could justify putting so many violent wars in one textbook, hers chief among them. If she tried to write a poem, no words would come out, just like her current silence dictated. Forget A-pluses and scholarships. All she wanted to do was lie face down on her bed and drift into the darkness forever and ever.

She had passed a few neon signs in the street for barbecue joints and strip clubs and their obnoxious lights burned her eye as well. She couldn’t open it to full length no matter how hard she tried…until a little patch of fur came darting out of the alleyway. Nobody else was there to judge her and the tiny kitten. The cat stared up at Abby with pitiful eyes and let out a series of soft, high-pitched meows. His yellow and orange striped fur looked gentle enough to touch despite him being a street cat who no doubt had to fight for his food.

Abby’s smile was wide enough to burn her eye again, but this time she didn’t wince nor care. “Come on, little kitty!” she sweetly said while kneeling down on the ground and holding her hand out. “It’s okay, nobody’s going to hurt you. Are you lost? Do you need some snuggles and love?” The cat meowed at her some more before creeping up to her hand and jumping into her arms for a hug. He purred loudly in her ear while Abby stroked his velveteen fur. “I’m going to call you Butterscotch, because you’re sweet!”

Butterscotch licked Abby’s bruise with his rough tongue and caused some yellow leakage, but she didn’t mind as evidenced by her giggles and continued pettings. “You’re such a love bug!” she squealed to him. Forget laying in bed all night long. She could stay in these now empty streets for eternity if it meant loving and being loved by this tender creature. Butterscotch would never punch her in the face. He would never scream obscenities about pimping and prostitution. This kitty would never stare at Abby with evil eyes.

Daniel Park, on the other hand, didn’t mind doing those things at all. His familiar gruff voice could be heard clearing his throat and just like that, Butterscotch leapt out of Abby’s arms and hid behind a dustbin, leaving her with a mild scratch on her bare arm. Abby began to feel conscious about any other body part that could be easily revealed to Daniel. Her flannel skirt showed off her legs. Her high heeled shoes gave away free foot content. She pulled on her black T-shirt to keep it from looking too tight on her.

With his victim trembling before him unable to speak, the leather-jacket-wearing, face-tattooed Daniel lit up a cigarette and slowly approached her with a tightened fist. “So…have you thought about my offer from earlier? Are you ready to make me an ass-load of money? I want that ass, Abby. I got horny bastards that’ll pay good money for an ass like that. What do you say?” No answer, only trembles and tears. “Are you deaf?!” he roared before taking another drag of his cigarette and stomping it out.

“Uh…uh…uh…Daniel? I, uh…I can’t do that.” Abby had a hard time steadying her body, almost to where she was going to fall over.

Daniel grabbed a hold of Abby’s shirt and caused her to yelp. “Shut up, bitch!” he screamed as he raised his fist in the air. “I was asking rhetorical questions when I made you that offer. I’m not giving you a choice, bitch. You either come with me and sell some ass or I’ll leave you laying in the fucking street. It doesn’t matter to me either way. Bitches like you are a dime a dozen!” He lifted up her skirt and she could only tremble some more. “Since you won’t be able to use that mouth of yours for a while…I was wondering if…”

Butterscotch emerged from behind the dustbin and hissed at Daniel. He asked, “Who’s that little shit stain? Friend of yours, Abby? You wish your pussy was that small?”

“L…l…leave Butterscotch alone!” Abby flinched in anticipation for another punch.

“Butterscotch? Is that what you’re calling him? Shit, I don’t even have to beat your ass again. I’ll just wring this little fucker’s neck, how about that?”

Abby collapsed on the ground and sobbed as Daniel slowly approached Butterscotch, pounding his fists and earning hisses and growls for his intimidation tactics. “Here, kitty-kitty-kitty!” he said in a creepy voice. “Maybe I’ll take my phone out and play some Sarah McLaughlin music or some shit. That’d make a hell of an ASPCA commercial, don’t you think?”

“Leave him alone!”

“Fuck you, cunt!” Daniel raised his fist in the sky and poised for another beat down on Abby. She tightly closed her eyes and held her hands up in defeat, so she only got to hear the action when Butterscotch screamed and scratched Daniel hard enough that he let out a monstrous, “Ouch!”

The double-tracked yell plus the goopy noise emitting from Daniel’s wound caused Abby to open her eyes to see what was up. Green ooze leaked from his palm while his eyes glowed neon red. He stared down at her and said, “That’s right, bitch. I’m a motherfucking demon. We’re everywhere! Ever wonder why nobody gives a shit about your sorry ass? Demons don’t give a shit about anyone, so don’t feel too left out.”

Abby’s breathing intensified and her heart rate sped up to dizzying heights as it lodged in her throat. She was just going to lay there for her attacker while Butterscotch snuggled up against her chest. Demons ran this world whether she accepted it or not. Demons weren’t in the business of fixing schools or policing criminals. They were in the business of creating even deeper bruises on people more vulnerable than her. They were in the business of selling ass and literally raising hell.

Abby didn’t want to live in such a world anymore, but realized that if she gave up now, she wouldn’t be able to hold sweet kitties in her arms wherever the afterlife took her. A coffin was no place for a grieving cat. Her body was no place for a demon’s hands, which had developed wrinkles, hair, and claws as they reached down to grab her. Butterscotch swiped at Daniel again and opened his palm gash even wider, causing more green goop to spill.

“Goddamn it, you little bastard! I’m going to rip your tail off and shove it up Abby’s pussy!” Daniel wrapped his good hand around Butterscotch’s neck and was poised to make good on his threats.

Abby remembered that there were no sweet kitties in the afterlife. Butterscotch needed her here and now. If she wasn’t going to fight for herself, she had to fight for her new furry friend. She saw an opening…mainly the one in Daniel’s hideous hand. In one swift motion, she grabbed the demon’s wound with her manicured nails and opened it wider and wider with every slash. Tears poured down her face and blinded her from the green goop spilling everywhere. Her ears bled from the demon’s screaming in pain. Her ears also took a pounding from Butterscotch growling as he bit his attacker.

Soon enough, Abby ripped off an entire strip of demonic skin. And another. And another. Her heart rate could barely keep up with her tearful rage. “Die, you motherfucker! Just die already!” she screamed as she ripped more flesh from the gaping wound. She pulled out muscle fibers and organ pieces. She ripped a piece of bone out as well after some hard tugging. She had to stop her rage for a moment to wipe her eyes, but when they were clear, they widened at her handiwork.

Daniel’s red devil arm was stripped completely of skin and muscles. His green goopy blood sprayed all over the ground and leaked into the sewers. His screams grew silent and more pathetic as he crumpled to the ground dying. His string of obscenities remained unintelligible, but not because of traumatic blocking. He bled and broke until his monstrous, muscle-bound, leather-skinned body was just a heap of crap lying on the sidewalk, no different from one of Butterscotch’s constitutionals. To put it mildly, Daniel Park was dead.

Abby’s body still shook in a combination of shock and trauma. Her painful eye was still wide and achy. Her mouth kept trembling as she spoke. “I did it,” she said in amazement. “I killed that bastard. He’s gone…” She leaned down to extend her demonic-ooze-covered hand to Butterscotch and he licked the fluid off for her. “You saved my life, little guy. You’re just a baby. You shouldn’t have to save people like me. You should be cuddled and loved forever. Dad would never let me keep you.” That last sentence caused more tears to scorch her purple wound.

“Don’t worry, baby Butterscotch. I’ll find you a nice home. I’ll get you away from these demons…if there really are more out there. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if my good-for-nothing dad was one himself. He’d never believe me if I told him what Daniel did to me. He’d just be like, ‘Suck it up! Rah-rah-rah-rah-rah!’”

Butterscotch rubbed his head against Abby’s ankle and she rewarded him with scratches behind the ears. Only then did she notice that his claws were marked with weird-looking runic symbols. They were long, too. And jagged. Did this cat know what he was doing all along? That gave Abby an idea…

“Hey, Butterscotch…would you like to meet my daddy? Of course you would! Hehe!”