Don't Feed the Animals

Don't Feed the Animals

Sandra had just arrived home after a long day. There had been so much tension at the office lately, drama she could do without. Her cat, Whiskers, had passed away a couple weeks ago, and being all alone at home compounded her frustrations. Pets had always been a large part of her life.

She kicked her shoes off and turned on a lamp with a twenty-five watt bulb, which she used at night to find her way to the bathroom.

She went to the kitchen for a glass of wine to relieve the tension, then returned to sit in the recliner.

She thought she heard footsteps on the old wooden staircase. It was rumored her house was haunted, but Sandra hadn't had any supernatural experiences in the few months she had been there, so had written it off in her mind.

She heard footsteps again ... no, they weren't footsteps, but sounded more like the sound of paws with toenails on the old oak stairs. Thinking maybe a stray animal had followed her in, she went to investigate.

There were glowing eyes on each step. A cat meowed, and she knew it was Whiskers, her recently deceased cat. She listened as, one by one, her past pets greeted her. Yep, they were all there, but there remained one more set of glowing eyes.

Sandra heard the roar as she felt the claws sinking in. Then, she felt the warmth of her blood running down her legs ...