Pussy Boy 18

All night, the storm lingered over Blackthorn City like a restless guest, hitting the rooftops like fists on locked doors. Streets ran like rivers, neon signs sputtered in the downpour, and the few pedestrians who dared to venture out moved like ghosts blurred by rain.

Selene March wasn't expecting visitors not at this hour, not in this weather. Yet something scratched at her apartment door.

Not the knock of a neighbor. Not the shuffle of human hands.

Scratch Scratch Pause Scratch.

Her pulse quickened. The storm outside howled as she crept closer, barefoot on the cold tiles, the hairs on her arms lifting like needles of static. She hesitated, then pulled the door open an inch.

There it was.

A cat. Black as midnight, its fur plastered to its frame by the rain, eyes gleaming with unnatural intensity. The drenched creature sat perfectly still, tail curled around its soaked paws.

It should have looked pitiful. Instead, it looked like it had been waiting.