The very first week we brought Rocky from a shelter, weird stuff began happening. "Rocky" was the name on a collar tag; other than that, we knew nothing, neither about the cat, nor of his former owners. We decided to leave the name, and in general he was a really nice cat: calm and gentle; he almost instantaneously became friends with me and Emmy, always enjoying being cuddled and spending time in our company. Nothing seamed to be wrong with him on a first glance.
At first, he was just startling us by jumping out of all sorts of weird places occasionally, like a closet, or a room, that was closed all the time. We assumed, he just was getting familiar with the house, and it was on us, not paying attention to the doors we're closing, etc. But it was only the beginning. One day me and Emmy were sitting in the room, watching TV, having some snacks. We could see Rocky peacefully sleeping on a carpet near the coach for the most time. The next moment, we remember, we heard the cat screaming hysterically. I've never heard an animal screaming like that. We immediately rushed to the kitchen. The microwave was on, and we could see a terrified animal inside it desperately trying to free itself tumbling around, beating the glass with its paws. Emmy opened the door and the cat jumped out of it with the speed of a lightning bolt.
We had no idea, how such thing could happen. Did someone forget to close the oven, and the cat accidently locked himself inside? There was noone else in the house to do it. We were baffled by this event, but it was nothing in comparison to what was happening next. We started finding Rocky in all sorts of impossible places: Inside the wall - we had to make a hole in drywall panel to release him; in furniture drawers and even a closed freezer, for fuck sake. But even that wasn't the weirdest place we had to get him out of. Once we had to cut open a couch pillow to release the cat. He was inside a fucking pillow! No holes in it, no seams open, he just somehow appeared in there.
After each episode, we were finding Rocky hiding under our bed. It usually took him a couple of days to get back to the norm and became a lovely friendly cat he naturally was. But it wasn't all. Soon after the microwave accident he began having those seizures. We've never witnessed the moment them starting, we've only been finding Rocky... the way he was. Once, in the middle of the night I woke up cowered in a cold sweat, feeling uneasy. I switched the lamp on, and I thought my heart would jump out my chest of what I saw next. There he was - on a bedside table. All contorted in unnatural way, looking right at me with motionless glassy eyes. I gasped and woke Emmy up with it. We thought he was dead. He was stiff as wood and his eyes weren't reacting to light, but his body was warm, and his heart was beating... No, it was racing in his chest. It looked like he was stuck in some kind of sleep paralysis. We had no idea what to do. Emmy went googling on symptoms, but eventually, the cat mooved, fixed his posture and jumped to the floor as if everything was fine again.
It was Emmy who took him to the vet, so she knows more about it. From what I've gathered it was some kind of animal epilepsy and now we had to keep him on medications. But how would it explain him appearing in all those places? I have a feeling, that these things are connected somehow. But it's not the cat himself — looks like he suffers from it the most, and after each time one of those things happens he seeks our protection and comforting — but rather it's something being attached to him. Like an entity. Something unnatural. Something not good.
We're not going to get rid of the cat, no... But the situation grows more and more intense. Despite the medication, the seizures become more frequent, and yesterday we had to dig Rocky out from the ground, as he somehow became embedded into the soil on our lawn underneath the layer of utouched grass. But what disturbs me more lately, is my dreams. For last few days I've been having these nightmares, and I suspect, Emmy's having them as well. In my dreams, I'm entering the room and it's all empty, except for the cat sitting in the shady corner motionless, looking straight at the walls in front of him. As I'm walking closer, I hear a demonic voice speaking to me from the shadow: "He's a good cat. Yes, he's a gooood cat. And you care of him well. But he needs a bit more care. He only needs a bit more warmth from you. And you know... It's so warm inside your guts!" I'm waking up grabbing my abdomen. Sometimes I almost feel something's moving inside, but I know, it's just my stomach reacting to stress. I can be sure in that, because would have it been othervice, I'd feel him clawing his way out.
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