New Year's Day, 7:02 am, 1996 A.D.
The light woke him up.
"Wha...where....how....whoa. Crazy dream," said Eric, sitting up on the floor, the sunlight from his window bathing him and his bedroom in warmth.
"I wouldn't call it a dream just yet," said the cat, who appeared on his left.
"Jesus!" exclaimed Eric. "You gotta stop doing that!"
"Eric, there is something you must understand. None of this is real."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Do you remember what they were saying in your dream?" the cat said sadly, purring and brushing up against Eric's arm.
"They said I had...cuts all over my arms...wait a second, if this isn't real than what the hell is it?"
The cat began to grin. "It is your imagination, Eric. That hospital is very real. You are there now, lying in bed about to flat-line and die, unless...unless you let me help you."
Pause. Eric knew what was about to happen. He knew, because the cat knew. But if he was already dead, why would it matter?
Fuck it. Play.
"Let you," Eric whispered as the cat laughed, then hissed and bit down hard on his arm. High-pitched screams. Nothing but screams and smoke and fluid movements of particles through space. For an instant, everything was silent and nothing existed at all. If there was a God, he was not here. If there was any form of thought by any creature at all, it had disintegrated into nothing, not even a whisper.
All was quiet. All was grace. Electrify. Resuscitate. Pounding and heavy breathing. Something against all odds had just taken birth in this quiet place, and Eric woke up in the hospital bed in a frantic mess. All is good. All is living. Inhale deep, for this is your first breath.
"Heartbeat is stable, we have him back."
Somewhere in the distance, Eric's mother cried and ran over to his bedside. He jolted up in amazement. Which part was a dream? Right now, it barely mattered. He was alive. Thank...whatever is out there.
"My baby!" his mother exclaimed, hugging him tight. A mother's protective instincts never fail.
"I'm okay, mom. I just had a very weird dream," Eric said, rubbing his eyes.
His arms had been stitched up, and so had his leg. Aside from a massive headache, he felt fine as he swam through a slight morphine drip to alleviate any residual pain he might have felt. His head still in only a slight daze, where blurry shadows exist. Not the same as clarity, but for the sake of it, he could see almost as well as he used to. Some parts could be seen better. Or worse. He is alive.
"So Eric, your father thought you might need some cheering up, so he pulled a couple strings. It's not really supposed to be allowed in the hospital, but for your recovery since you'll be here just a few more days, he thought you could use some company."
She looked to the doorway in expectation.
Eric's heart sank as his father entered the room with only the best of intentions in mind, his work boots seeming to pound on the floor like a bad horror movie, and the camera rolled up to reveal the shocking moment everyone could predict. Howard Blitzer was holding in his arms a white cat with yellow eyes that stared mercilessly at Eric. He swore he could see it grinning, but he couldn't tell because of the medicine.
"B-but mom, he can't stay here overnight, can he? I mean, it's against hospital rules."
"Your father will take him home when visiting hours are over, baby. It'll just be an hour, and if you need, you can get more sleep. I've have to get to work now, so I'll see you tomorrow sweetie."
Eric nodded. Mother kissed his forehead.
Pause. This is a remnant. This is a flash-frozen moment in time. One of the few times during the course of the year that Eric felt loved by anyone at all. The rest of these moments would seem like hollow vessels and empty goodbyes to the flights of imagination that would soon absorb him in a new reality. The danger begins here, just when you think you're safe. Play.
Angela Blitzer departed the room, rest assured she will sleep soundly tonight. Howard inched closer with the cat.
"Dad, I don't think this is such a-"
"Could you hold him son, for just a second? I gotta use your bathroom," Mr. Blitzer said as he dropped the cat into Eric's arms and hurriedly moved for the bathroom.
"...good idea."
The cat started to purr and curled up into Eric's arms. All the while, Eric had a slight feeling of dread, but took a few moments to admire this white cat with yellow eyes. He began to stare into them as he ran his thumb over the top of the cat's head, thinking this must be rare indeed, as he had never seen an all-white cat with yellow eyes. This was no albino cat.
"So," Eric breathed, "what on earth do I call you?" The cat looked at him blankly and let out a slight meow. Maybe this was indeed an ordinary-mannered, well-behaved cat. Just as he began to think of a name, his dad exited the bathroom. Eric and the cat were slightly startled by the noise of the door.
"Did you think of a name yet?" his father asked.
"No. Dad, where did you find him?"
"There was this pet store down the street where that flower shop used to be, remember that crazy old guy Drake?"
"Yeah. Creepy dude with the top hat, right?"
"Yeah, well his brother runs the place now, changed it into a pet shop, he's got some exotic creatures there, birds I'm not sure are legal...ha. And that's where I found this little guy," Howard said, smiling and petting the cat.
Eric shuddered and a cold sweat poured over him. What was his dad thinking? In order to explain a small bit of history about Drake's pet shop, it will be necessary to tell the story of the Drake brothers themselves.
William Drake had specialized in exotic things as well, mainly plants, some of which could turn the most enthusiastic botanist into a scared pile of mush. He had a variety of rain forest species of plants that he claimed were discovered on his journey to the Amazon as a boy.
Drake was the last name of a renowned group of American explorers from the 1930s who were sure to delve deep into the darkest corners of the world, on land, sea, or sky. Their discoveries were a closely-guarded secret of many world governments; that is until the Drake boys' parents passed away. Many years later as old men, they opened their own businesses to sell some of those secrets, some of which included many rare plants and animals they had acquired by revisiting the swamps and jungles of their youth.
William Drake was eccentric enough, selling certain breeds of Venus Fly Trap plants that turned out to be trapping people's fingers instead of flies.
His brother Mordecai seemed nicer and brighter on the outside, but was much worse than William. All young children in the city knew this, as one had witnessed a Seizing Ritual performed by Mordecai. The ritual in question was rather complicated, at least to the casual observer. Mordecai was somehow telepathically able to enslave the minds of his animals and force them to attack anyone of his choosing.
In the case that left one child witness alive, Mordecai had seized the animals on his assistant, Teppei, leaving behind little more than bones in an alleyway. The children refused to testify as they were too afraid. This was back in the 1980s, when Drake's Pet Shop was down on 5th and Main, his brother up on 7th.
It was speculated that William and Mordecai actually ran mob businesses and literally owned those two blocks of town, but this was never proven.
But within one year, 70 percent of the people who traveled that block wound up with animal bites or plant poisons coursing through their veins. Still, others speculated that this was a form of mind control instituted by the Drake brothers to keep the town under their control. No one really knew for sure. But the children did.
Eric knew this. He looked at the cat, still trying to pick a name.
"It can't be that hard, can it?" asks Mr. Blitzer.
"Hmmm. I think I'll call you...Kréus."
"Kréus? Where do you get that from?"
"I-I'm not sure. That name just popped into my head somehow," Eric said, holding the cat close. "Dad, why did you get a cat that belonged to the Drake brothers? You’ve heard the stories."
"Eric, come on. You know those aren't credible, even if they were true, a newspaper or the police would have caught onto them years ago."
"But Kyle Fertrand!"
"Where is Kyle now, huh?" The cat purred.
"In the nuthouse," Eric sighed.
"In the psych ward, that's right. No one who has any sense believes that guy anyway, it’s just a silly urban legend. So...are you tired, you want me to go, or are you hungry? You want something from the cafeteria?"
"I thought that's what nurses are for." Eric smiled.
"It’s also what dads are for. What would you like?"
"Uh, slice of pizza?"
"If they have it. If not, I'll see if I can get you a cheeseburger or something."
"Thanks dad. You're the best."
"Anytime." Howard walked out of the room, and the cat yawned. Eric cradled the gentle creature like a baby.
"Hey Kréus. You tired?" Eric felt nothing beneath the skin on his arms that were now connected together with stitches. Nails dug into the upper dermal layer, but he felt no pain. No pain is good.
Drip. Drip. Drugs and morphine are like your own private heaven. Noticing nothing, not fearing a thing. Silence. The beep of the heart monitor. Then a voice that sounds all too familiar in the back of Eric's head.
"Not tired. Just starving," the cat said with a grin. Eric began shaking and whimpering, quickly letting go of the cat. In its eyes, he could sense anger, hunger, and all those reasons he should be terrified come rushing back as familiar as the cuts on his arms. Drip. Drip. The stitched skin began to leak blood. "Y-you. You're real?! You...oh my god!"
"Eric, please relax," said the cat, placing a paw over his lips. He was crying. "I'm not going to hurt you, but you must listen. The rats run amok tonight."
Eric looked confused, and tried his best to calm down as the cat sat back down on his lap.
"Rats? What rats, what are you talking about?" Two young nurses walked by out in the hallway.
"Now there's some prey I'd love to chase," said the cat. He jumped off of Eric's bed and vanished into thin air as he headed for the doorway to the left.
"Hey, wait!" Eric shouted. He stumbled out of bed, heart pounding, dressed in only his hospital gown. He drug the I.V. with him and made his way into the corridor, trying to keep his distance as he followed the nurses around the main desk and around another corner.
Stop. Back against wall, remember to breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Legs hurt, arms numb. Breathe. A bandage on his left leg made him limp, just as his whole body might be in the next few seconds, when...
He heard crying. A familiar crying. A girl's crying he remembered from a certain special night 4 months ago when...
The nurses have gone into a room. Not just any room. Their voices echo out into the hall.
"Marissa, sweetie, how are we doing today?"
"I don't remember how...I just know my skin is burning! Get it off me, get it off me!" she screamed. Eric gasped for air.
"Honey, Marissa, calm down! Look at us. It will be okay! There is nothing on your skin, but tests reveal you still have quite a bit of poison in there that needs to be flushed out and I'm afraid we can't do anything until your system sifts it out."
"It hurts so bad!"
"Eric!" said the cat, suddenly appearing as he ran back in the direction Eric came from. Eric covered his mouth, turned to follow the cat, and made a dash for his room, avoiding nurses and doctors along the way. He saw his dad for a split second rounding the corner and ducked back into his bed.
"Pssst, Eric," said the cat, reappearing on his lap. "It would appear she's been infected by William's plants," he whispers.
"Yeah I got that. But how, and why? And what's that got to do with whatever attacked me?"
"I don't know yet. I just follow my nose," the cat said, grinning slightly before curling up in Eric's arms just as his dad walked through the door with a tray of pizza.
"Should taste pretty good, its Pizza Hutt, they had an Express one down there," says Howard.
"Wow, I guess we're moving up in the world. Thanks dad."
"Sure. How's the cat treating you?"
Eric smiled. "I think we'll get along famously." The cat grinned at him.
"Any idea what exactly happened to you?" his dad asked.
"I seriously don't remember a thing," replied Eric. His head is beginning to swim, eyes getting heavy.
"Well maybe you'll remember later. I gotta get going kiddo," Howard said, messing up his son's hair.
"Okay dad. You taking Kréus?"
"Yeah I probably should," Howard said, picking up the cat. "Come on, little fella." Howard moved for the door. "Have a goodnight, son. They said you should be out in a couple days, they're just keeping you for observation I guess."
"Yeah I figured. Goodnight dad."
Howard waved as the blur caught Eric's eyes again, and it wasn’t too long before he fell asleep.
It is still happening, even now. We count down the days to Christmas Eve because we expect something to happen. If it seems you've lived too long, perhaps you have. The key to the future is frozen in the past, and only by melting away those emotions we cling to can we ever have hope that the future will be different.
"Of course," Eric thought. "This time should be pretty interesting." Freeze.
He opened his eyes and saw a certain pair of yellow eyes staring back at him, and laughed. And for the last time in his life, it was a good laugh.
