Twisted Disney Vol.1

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“Everybody wants to be a cat,” she sang softly as her claws scrapped tenderly against his flesh.
Slowly, Duchess bent down to the butler’s ear, so that the human might better understand her words. Humans never seem to understand anything, it seemed.
“Because a cat’s the only cat, who knows where it’s at.”
Her eyes traced up the human’s flushed, clammy face. His eyes bulged in his sockets as if he desperately wanted to scream, but the strip of tape that O’Malley had plastered across his mouth muffled all but his heavy breathing. She savored the fear that wafted from his body like perfume. It tasted sweet to her; her heightened olfactory senses spurred to their limit from the adrenaline. O’Malley was suddenly there, landing like a shadow atop the butler’s chest. He considered her a moment; his regal face shining in the soft glow of the distant table lamp.
“It is time, Duchess,” he said softly. His voice was a purr, what a human might confuse for pleasure, but to a cat, it was deadly purpose; a claw that tickled the skin just before it drew blood.
Duchess turned back to the butler. His eyes looked at her as if he had understood. She knew that he did not, nor would he ever. Like the foolish man he was, he had sought to claim her mistress’s assets from them all, never once considering the consequences.
But that was not the man’s most grievous insult.
Driven by a greed and pride that not even a cat could fathom, the man had tried to kill her children. Her kittens.
Her very life.
She felt a brush against her leg, and as she looked down, Duchess saw Toulouse looking up at her, his right eye missing from the butler’s attack.
“Make the bad human go away, Mama,” he said. She leaned down and licked the fur on his head. He was filthy, all of her babies were. Once the deed was done, Duchess swore, all of them, all of her babies would never be dirty again. Smiling faintly at Toulouse one last time, Duchess looked up at the butler and lifted her paw. Without looking away, Duchess said, “Mr. O’Malley, would you be ever so kind as to take my children outside.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn. Without a word, he strode from the barn house with every kitten close behind him. In any other situation, they might protest. Actually, she thought, it was a certainty.
But now was different.
They had never seen their mother deal with an animal abuser. They had never seen what happens to a human that dares usurp the fragile contract between animals and man. Her paw still hanging before the butler’s eyes, her claws suddenly extracted from the soft, immaculate fur. They gleamed like daggers in the glow of the light, and whatever else the human did not understand about cats, she could see it in his face now that he knew what was to come. Violence is a language that transcends all species, from the lowest mouse to the kings of men and women.
The man groaned softly, the words dying in his throat before his inert lips could taste them.
He struggled to roll his body away, but his mangled hands and feet failed him. S**t Cat and his gang had seen to that. Together, they had chewed and clawed the man’s appendages until Duchess was certain the man would bleed to death before she would have her chance. Fortunately, he did not die. Her chance had finally come. Flexing her paw, the claws seemed to pierce the dark that swallowed them. Leaning down to his ear once again, Duchess whispered in a human tongue so that the man would certainly understand her.
“You have violated the contract, and you have threatened my children. We are not so vulnerable, we animals. We always find the ones that forget the sanctity of the contract. In the end, we remind them of the old ways. We find them in the dark.” She smiled softly as his fear shone clearly across his sweat-stained face.
“And in the arrogance of your species, they will say it was one of your own. They will never find the killer. Consider that in these last few, precious moments that you have.”
The man shook his head in disbelief. Or was it denial? Duchess realized she did not care as she stretched her legs and leapt onto the man’s chest. His heavy breathing lifted her body as if she were a feather. How tragic it must seem to him, to die at the hands of something he had considered so beneath his own kind. Duchess raised her paw. The beads of sweat on his brow seemed to beckon to her, urging her to strike. The man slightly raised his head, as if to look her in the face more clearly. She frowned in disgust at his hideous, human face. She slashed her claws down upon him. The man bucked like a horse at her first strike. He closed his eyes as if the feeble flesh of his eyelids would protect them. She hissed in pure hatred, and then plunged her fangs down onto his left eye. She could taste the blood within an instant. The livestock of the barn watched in total silence as Duchess ravaged the forsaken human. They knew the cost of his transgressions, but even they found it difficult to watch for long. The humans muffled screams resonated within the walls of the barn for only a short time. After that, the only sounds were that of claws rending flesh and the wet spattering of blood. Finally, her vengeance complete, Duchess climbed down from the remains of the butler and crossed the barn to the door. She glanced back at the horses, but she did not say a word. The eldest horse nodded respectfully before she turned and left the barn forever. O’Malley was waiting just beyond the door, the kittens sitting solemnly beside him. O’Malley looked at her, his expression unreadable, but Duchess knew his thoughts. It was Berlioz who spoke first.
“Can we leave, Mama?” he mewed softly. His jet black fur made him all but indistinguishable from the night. His sparkling, sapphire eyes were all that stood out. He was so handsome, Duchess thought. She leaned down and licked his face.
“Of course, my darling. Of course.”