Chapter 1: The Cat

Violet did not often listen to her mother and so was very fond of playing in the ash-pit behind her family’s home. It was a sunken place lined with bricks and filled with ashes and soot and the black splintery shards of embers gone cool and dead. When crouched in the midst of it the pit seemed a very large place, especially to a scrawny girl of only eleven.

It was while she was in the pit late one afternoon, cheerfully disregarding her mother’s wish for her not to get her Sunday skirt dirty, that Violet saw the cat. Cats were uncommon in her village, as were animals of nearly every kind; and Violet went very still for a moment, all but for her eyes, which blink blink blinked.

The cat was trotting along the top rail of her garden fence, purposeful and sleek, glossy black fur shining in the sunlight. It had a limp furry something in its mouth and ruby bright beads of blood rolled along its long, straight whiskers, pattering to the ground every other step it took.

Violet shifted and crunched the anthracitic shell of an ember beneath one knee. The noise must have been distasteful, for the cat gave her a look of cool reproach before gently draping its kill across the fence’s top rail.

“You ought to be more considerate.” It said.

“How come?” Violet asked, before the strangeness of the situation could really sink in.

“You startled me. I might’ve fallen from the fence and hurt myself.” Said the cat.

“I thought cats were very surefooted.” Violet said.

At this the cat huffed, mildly offended by what she seemed to be insinuating, but sat down all the same, facing Violet with a vaguely insolent silver eyed stare.

“You’re very small for a human,” it observed. "What would you know about surefootedness?"

“I am not!” Violet said reflexively, deeply offended. She stood up from where she’d been kneeling, unmindful of her soot dappled appearance, and offered the cat her fiercest scowl.

It didn’t seem very frightened of her.

“I believe I’ll go somewhere quiet and have my supper now.” The cat said, and went to fetch the small furry thing from where it had been draped over top of the fence. It left behind a small, bloody smear on the wood.

Almost immediately the anger ran out of Violet and she held up one ash caked hand.

“Wait.” She said.

The cat paused, almost begrudgingly.

“…I’ve never spoken to a cat before,” Violet continued. “My mother says that you’re very wicked.”

“Me in particular?” The cat asked, setting its supper down upon the rail once more. It seemed faintly amused, though by what Violet couldn’t tell.

“Cats in general…I think. You’re supposed to be demonic.”

The cat looked down at itself, regarding one front paw. Its claws flicked in and out like little needles.

“Do I seem demonic to you?” It asked.

Violet wasn’t entirely sure what a demon was supposed to look like, but what faint, fearful impressions she had did not line up at all with the little furry creature sitting in front of her.

“I guess not.” She allowed.

“I’d say you’re more of a demon than I am,” the cat remarked. “Playing around in a big heap of dead things.”

Violet blinked. Dead things? She stared doubtfully down at the ashes but of course all there was to see remained powder and charred bits of petrified wood. Perhaps there was a bone here and there, for her mother was fond of throwing the chicken leavings into the flames when she was done with them, but that hardly constituted…

“The trees,” the cat sighed, tiring of her doe eyed confusion. “You’re playing in a grave.”

“Trees aren’t…” Violet began to say, then supposed that the cat was right…in a fashion. Plants were alive, even if they couldn’t think or feel. Still, she didn’t move from the ash-pit.

“I suppose I’m not much better,” the cat allowed, nudging the bloodied furry something with one paw. “But I try only to make sport out of things when they’re still alive enough to do something about it.”

There was something faintly unsettling about those words, but still Violet didn’t feel frightened of the cat. The whole conversation was beginning to seem strangely normal now.

“Oh.” She mumbled, unsure what else could possibly be added.

“Well,” said the cat, eyes flicking up to the sky, which was beginning to go gold with the approach of evening. “I should be going now.”

“Going?” Violet asked, though she knew what the cat had to mean. “…Into the forest?”

The forest lay past the fence bordering her garden and in the already dimming light of late afternoon it looked dark and mysterious. Shafts of dusty amber light pierced through their branches and dappled the forest floor with an ever shifting patchwork of light and shadow.

“Where else?” The cat asked. “Hunting in your village is easier, but I only visit occasionally. Too much risk. Typically I only ever try speaking to small people like you.”

“How come?”

“You’re young and uncoordinated. If you threw a stone or a stick at me you’d probably miss.”

Violet couldn’t dispute that, but still she felt mildly offended.

“I wouldn’t throw anything at you.” She protested.

“I have no doubt you’d try if you were older. It’s always the older ones who react the worst to me.”

Violet said nothing.

“In any case,” the cat continued, pausing for a moment as it stretched, working a kink from its slowly swishing tail. “…I shall be taking my leave now. Goodbye, ashen child, perhaps we’ll speak again.”

“My name is Violet.” Violet said, catching the cat just before it got its supper back into its jaws.

“Hmm.” The cat vocalized, no great feeling in its voice.

“…What’s yours?” Violet pressed.

The cat shrugged, or Violet thought it did. It was strange seeing human motions passed through a feline frame.

“I can’t remember if I’ve ever had one,” the cat paused for a moment, thoughtful, then made a little hmph noise. “…Perhaps not.”

And with that it scooped up the bloodied thing and slipped down from the fence and into the tall grass on the other side. It moved like a length of black silk ribbon passed through water, each successive part following in perfect sequence. For a few moments Violet simply stood and watched the grass twitch and part slightly where the cat was, then it made the tree-line and was gone entirely.

“Hmm.” She said aloud, then stepped from the ash-pit and went to get cleaned up.