Have I told you about Cap'n Eh'Hab? A forcefully retired whaling captain who lives in an abused house in the fair port of Mervina. Most people would be thrilled to be retired to Mervina, but not Eh'Hab. His first and only love is the sea...
As such, his home is neglected. An adobe affair, it's whitewashed walls are flaking and scuffed. His door is dirty, and his porch is scattered with mismatched boots, sandals, and a few petrified plants in broken pots. A tuxedoed cat lounges in the shade of a small palm tree next to the fence, watching the door the porch and anyone who dares approach Eh'Habs lair.
If you are unfortunate enough to fimd yourself within the confines of this particular domicile, you would find yourself yearning for the nearest stable or that particularly tidy privy down the way. It is suffused with a miasma of stale beer, vomit and urine. Coming in from the light of day, would leave you blind and in the dark, no window shutter is undone, no sea breeze blows through here. Broken glass and sticky floor, this is the penthouse to hell, the private torture chamber for janitors who sullied the premises of other janitors, for it is never clean in here.
Eh'Hab is human equivalent of a honey badger. A dogged hunter, he fought the most ferocious beasts of the sea. He lost a leg, then half of his left hand. Still he went on, until one day, he crossed one foe so fierce it took his right eye, so cunning as that he could not land a single hit. It drove him mad, and lost him his charter and crew.
I am that beast. I watch his waking days and torment his dreams by night. My dagger like claws carved out his eye and I have tasted his blood in my mouth. I am a Prince of the Land of Nod, but to him I am known as... Mitts.
That's right I'm the cat, I live to torment him, and he is my plaything. What? You say can't be the bad guy and the narrator of this story? I can be and will be. I'll even throw the title card up for you-
Dramataic gasp music plays.
THE TORMENT
As you've no doubt guessed I'm not your average cat. The name isn't the clue though, most cats have a lot of honorifics thrown behind thier name, you humans just don't understand them, even though we are shouting them every time we get into a standoff with other cats.
The scene jumps to two cats circling each other under a lamp-light by night. As the calico growls to the ginger the following subtitles popup.
'YOU HAVE ENTERED IN TO THE DOMAIN OF THE GRAND MATRON AL-HARRUM HEIGHTS, DEVOUER OF THE BLACK SQUIRREL OF HIGHEST OAK'
The ginger escalates.
'I AM THE CHAMPION OF THIS REGION, GRAND MAGUS OF THE CUL-DE-SAC COURT AND SLAYER OF HAWKS. I GO WHERE I PLEASE.'
The calico spits.
'INTERLOPER. CHARLATON.
YOU ARE GRAND WITH WORM BLOAT.
BEGONE.'
(The ginger is prepared to fight. Then a tin can falls somewhere in the shadows and both cat bolt for cover)
Pan back to the Tuxedo Tomcat walking lazily on the unbleached cobblestones.
Like I said, we like our honorifics, it buys us time while we look for weak points. But mine are legit. I really am a Prince of Nod, meaning I can literally jump into the dreaming and can mess with people's dreams. Specifically, Eh'Habs dreams.
The scene cuts to Eh'Hab sailing through a fog. Suddenly a laser straight beam of red light comes down from the heavens into the nearby sea. It's stationary for a moment before moving towards the ship. Eh'Hab looks to the sky and sees the dark form of a tuxedo cat looking down on him from a surreal perch upon the worlds ring.
"Nah Mitts, don' doitt."
The beam jumps across the waves and catches the deck next to Eh'Hab. He gulps as the cat leaps off the ring and gigantic descends to pounce on the shiny red dot. Eh'Hab screams...
...Wakes up screaming. After shivering for a few moments he calms down, only to realize something.
"I feckin pissed mahself, again."
The camera returns to Mitts.
Yes I can already hear you asking me 'Why?' And the answer is simple, he messed with me, so I mess with him. Don't worry, we'll get to it.
And it's not like I'm scratching babies or crapping in that sublime mulch of Mrs. Rebsomens garden, it's just him. And I'm sorry good that I've yet to cause any collateral damage. Er... much collateral damage.
The scene cuts to a narrow hall way, the camera pitching to the side as the ship lurches to portside. Mitts is bolting down the passage followed by Eh'Hab, his eye a bloody ruin, brandishing a harpoon.
"Fiend! Whorescunt! I'ma gointa peel you ALIVE!"
The cat reaches the solid door at the end of the hallway and turns arching his back, growling.
'YOU KNOW, I THINK I'LL TAKE YOUR OTHER EYE. TRY THROWING WITHOUT DEPTH PERCEPTION.'
Eh'Hab throws and Mitts's eyes widen. It's a good throw. Mitts jumps into the air. Behind him the door opens. In slow motion the spear passes below Mitts paws, into the thigh of a sopping wet, sailor. Behind him, the dark rain-soaked deck is illuminated by lightning revealing the rest of the crew scrambling with the rigging. The sailor screams and falls on his back. Mitts is a blur of shadow escaping into the gloom of the ship. The crew turns to see thier captain in the doorframe.
The scene cuts back to Mervina. Mitts is staring at the camera, his eyes wider than normal.
He's oookay! Seriously, minimal blood loss. Minor bone chipping. And Eh'Hab was kicked off his ship, so it was a rousing success.
The cat wraps its tail around itself and preens.
Obviously a man who thinks throwing harpoons in enclosed spaces is unfit for duty. At that point Eh'Hab had made a quite the case for his detention to the brig and subsequent expulsion from the crew.
The cat stretches out and begins to walk away, tail aloft and hooked.
But enough about us, let's talk about here. This is Mervina. It's on the northern side of an equator straddling continent that is basically one big desert. The coasts are really the only sane place to live, and this particular city is home to a bustling crowd of Bedouin, Franks and Draconians. Visitors are common and there's good business to be had. Cats are here too, and as it happens the locals favor us over dogs, which is as it should be.
Mitts slips between some grating and enters into a dry storm sewer.
Because this town is built on the coastal slopes, the folks who initially designed it decided on an expansive sewer system thinking that this place got enough rain to utilize it.
Mitts jumps down into a larger line. A small stream of water flows by in a trough.
But we only get a couple months of rainy season here, so water is horded by everyone. This is just a small bit of groundwater tickling through here. When it rains, this sewer will fill up pretty well, but only after all the cisterns are full. So, we cats have a whole understreet to ourselves.
Rats try to claim some turf, but let's be honest, it doesn't go well for them. Mice who flee us here seldom escape. Mervina was built by the big folk, but it's ruled by us cats.
Honestly, the fact that big folk here use sand for thier toilets is proof enough that they've acknowledged our station as lords and ladies of this town.
Mitts enters into a large basin, open to the sky above. On a grassy island in the center grows a single sycamore tree. A sandy marsh of reeds and odd boulders surrounds the island and light glint off of the thin film of water. Mitts bounds from boulder to boulder, until he reaches a branch to perch in.
Now I mentioned earlier that I'm Dream Cat. I have Eight out of Nine lives to go and I prefer to hunt in the dreams of children. What do I hunt? I hunt nightmares, specifically the nightmares that stalk children.
The scene shifts to a starlit fen. A field of reeds stretches into infinity beneath a sky awash with stars and nebula. A little girl walks in her nightclothes, a lanturn dangling from a stick. Her expression is nervous.
"Mitts?" She calls out, her voice twinged with apprehension. I miss her.
Something dark and sinister, with far too many sharp features, and perpetually drooling, stalks her in the shadows. It circles her slowly.
"Mitts??"
It leaps from cover, she screams as she beholds it, a nightmare from the darkest regions of space, where no one can hear you scream. In two bounds it's almost on her, when a huge paw comes out of nowhere and slams it to the ground. The child immediately loses her fear and looks up in delight, at ME!
"Mitts!" She gasps in delight.
And there I am, a gigantic tabby with white paws, fat and old. I play with xenomorph like it's a grasshopper, careful to crush and not get any of its goo on me. The world-rings light is caught on my vast form, and I sit on my haunches to watch the life leave the monsters twitching form. I feel a tiny form bump up against my old leg and feel an arm squeeze around me in the waking. It's too much and I start to purr unashamedly. The ground vibrates for miles around.
I had a pretty good first life. She was the sardine on top of it all. Feeling love in two separate realities simultaneously is awesome, but seeing yourself through a child's eyes is wonderful. In dreams I am huge because I was everything to her.
Transition back to Mervina, daytime. Mitts is once again a tuxedo cat, but he looks cross. His posture is straight, his ears are laid back and his tail is swishing.
Death for a cat like me is like waking up. I woke up a kitten and knew I was in my next life. It would take me a couple months before I'd be able to find my way back to her. So I grew up as fast as I could. Then one day, he came. Grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dropped me into that smelly coat pocket of his. I was too small, I couldn't see far yet, I couldn't escape.
And that crusty old man took me aboard his ship and sailed away. Without my consent I was made the ships cat.
Fuck my life.
