Coming Home
When cats finally took over the world no one was surprised.
There were memes about it. Funny videos. Silly jokes. AI generated pictures.
So when a new virus broke out, one that caused cats to grow larger, develop thumbs and begin to talk. Humanity was already programmed to accept their new feline overlords.
The battle was lost before it began.
And the few that resisted were hunted down and forced into milk factories.
The tabby cat Shanks was part of a team sent to hunt such humans. He was mean and strong and along with his adopted sister Rukia they had a 98% capture success rate.
She was the brains. He was the brawn.
Until one mission they were sent back to their home town on the rumour of a human sighting.
The streets were bare, homes abandoned and gardens overgrown.
“This feels weird,” Rukia whispered, her cow patch coat puffed up.
Shanks’ shoulder ached. A pain he hadn’t felt since a child when the limb was first taken away.
“Do you think it could be them?” She whispered.
“Who?” He asked but his eyes remained alert.
He didn’t want to remember them. His owners.
They approached the house of the suspected sighting.
“This can’t be-” Shanks froze.
They stood before their childhood home. The weeds had completely taken over the driveway. The fence was broken down.
Rukia cuddled up beside him. A thing she hated doing.
“It won’t be them.” Shanks assured her but he too felt the cold chill up his spine.
“What if it is?”
Shanks couldn’t bring himself to answer.
They crept together through the broken door.
It smelt the same. Of lavender candles and strong aftershave. Of turkey dinners and garlic bread.
Rukia startled as she kicked a ball. The bell inside rattled as it scuttled across the floor.
A footstep creaked on the stairs.
“Oh my God…” a soft voice whispered from behind them.
The two felines whipped around, claws extended, hair on end.
Rukia hissed but it got caught in her throat as she spotted the two figures before her.
They were older now, grey hairs sprouting from their roots, wrinkles around their eyes. But they looked exactly the same.
Rukia ran forward, unable to stop herself and collapsed into the woman's arms, purring and rubbing her face all over her.
Shanks stayed back. His expression guarded. He looked at the man beside them. Eyed his extended hand. A hand that held him when he was in pain, a hand that played with him when no one else would, that comforted him in the dark.
“Hello, son.” The man smiled.
Shanks crumpled into him. His head against his chest. Tears streaming down his face.
“Mum, dad… we’re home.”
Story inspired by my two beauties found here
