My Cat won’t Stop Meowing

Hello, my name is Nick, Nick Card, and I live alone, a s****y 1 story house. I don’t have a lot of money, so I can’t move, and I’m really skinny, not from lack of eating, I just am. I have a little kitty, 3 months old, she is basically a kitty in a full grown cat’s body.

In my bedroom, there is a corner, it smells horrible in that corner, it’s terrible. You ever smell a spoiled fish, yea, it smells like that. My cat, will meow and now at that corner, at first I thought it was really creepy, then I got used to it. Now it’s really annoying! But, one night, my cat is meowing, and I snap, I yell at her “OKAY THAT’S IT, MUFFIN, STOP IT MUFFIN, just shhh, I’ll feed you in the morning, kay muffin?” She looks at me, she looks… horrible. Her eyes were staring right through me, she was still meowing at me, her head starting rotating. And then, I hear a snap.

She stop looking through me, and looks AT me. Like how she normally does, she looks perfectly fine, and she jumps on my bed, and falls asleep on the end of my bed. The smell, it’s even worse now, I can smell it from here, it wasn’t muffin…

I was about to fall asleep, when I hear a meow, there’s another cat, a tabby kitty, looks to be around 2 months, and it looks at me. It walks towards me, limping, dragging it’s right back leg. Its meow goes from normal to a gurgling kind of sound. Its tongue was hanging out. It bit its own tongue, letting blood come out, it wasn’t very pleasant, and it looks really painful. It starts spitting it’s blood all over my floor. I had enough, I picked it up, and ran for my med kit. I have it in my closet, and I never used it. I tried to help it, as much as I could, but it’s injuries were too much,  I thought “that’s it, I can’t do it, it’s gonna die” But it didn’t… It stared at me, I, I love it, I love it so much, it’s adorable, I can’t take it, I hugged it, it smelled horrible. I needed to help it, I took my scalpel, and cut some string, and tried to sow up any injury, but it didn’t work, the string broke upon first pull, but I had a better idea, I grabbed my scalpel, I couldn’t help myself.

I pointed it toward my stomach, “Cmon, cmon, you can do it, please just, do it, it’s for the cat,” I cut a small price of my own flesh, I grabbed a stapler, and stapled it to any open spots. It wasn’t enough to kill me, thankfully, I went to sleep, when I woke up, I looked down, at what I’ve done to myself, I went to the hospital, the surgeon asked me, “What have you done to yourself?!” I quickly replied, panicking, “I-i-i don’t know, I did it past night, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Soon after, I got some surgeries done.

After I woke up, I remembered the cat, I looked down, at my stomach, it looks alright, I rip out these things in my wrist, the things that pump you with blood, and I grab an unused needle, and filled it with blood, so that if I lose too much blood, since I was still slightly bleeding from it. I make sure I don’t die from blood loss. I didn’t need the needle, it stopped bleeding, and my wrist healed quite fast, I get home, and realize something, “Wait, what happened to me, I’m not myself, I’m not- where’s the cat? It’s hurt.” I rush to find the cat, it’s perfectly fine, the open wound I stabled my skin to in order to help it. It was as if it never happened, it had fur there. I was thinking, “That’s not how human skin works, what the-” I realize it’s eye, it eye was… green, the whites of the eye was green, it was mold and infection.

I have to help it, I grab a fork, stab its eye, and pull it out, slowly, as to not hurt it too much. It’s done, but now, it’s worse, it’s just a hole. I put a golf ball in its eye socket. It didn’t fit right and rolled out. Wait, will my eye fit? I measured my eye, nope, would fit, what about muffin? I look over at muffin, I can’t, that’s my cat, I look back at the other cat, its open eye, staring at me. I snap out of it, what is going on, why am I doing this?  I put my hands on my face, crying. I hear a voice, “I just wanted a friend.” It’s a very feminine, soft voice, it’s the cat, “This makes no sense,” I say, still crying, “Will you be my friend?” She said, in a cute, soft little voice, “I guess,” I said, nervously, she responds “thank you” And I look back at the cat, its dead, not moving, it disappears after I blink, I feel… happy, joyful, I don’t know why, but every night now, I hear a sweet soft voice say “meow” In my ears as I drift off to sleep.

Author’s Note: This is my second story, tell me if I used to much gore or blood, or if you have any other constructive criticism, I would be happy to hear.

  • Christinela

    Can be in next story less ‘bloody’ I don’t know, um, brutality? I love cats and they don’t deserve that.


  • Daniel Di Benedetto

    What’s, with all, the commas, dude?

  • PurplexiaSphinx

    I love me some gore, man. I’m usually against animals being involved in any sort of horror story unless they’re the killers, but this was good. I liked the weird blend of “I f*cking love this tiny fluffy thing” and “What the f*ck am I doing???”
    One thing tho, fam, rotting fish and rotting flesh smell quite different. Even rotting cat corpses, still smell like… Well, a mammal corpse. No fish.
    (Btw I think you were referring to an IV drip in the hospital scene but I could be wrong)
    Nice story.
    Better than all the stories I posted on Qfeast combined. Oh, GOD my old writing was horrible.