CHAPTER III – Jezebel

Finally free from the carrier, Jezebel stretched herself languidly on the top of the kitchen counter, her tail gracefully pending down, and her black fur shining in the afternoon sunlight. She laid there like a queen, resting upon a marbled throne silently awaiting for her servants to serve her.

A stray black colored cat, born amidst the trash bins of the infamous city and saved by a puny little hazel eyed human female with a freckled face. Gifted with the most impressive feline intelligence, Jezebel recognized the hazel-eyed human female to be called Megan. But that one was not worthy of her trust, so she did not talk to her so much. The other human female, however, was a different matter.

The other human female - while completely unaware of it - carried an otherworldly aura that only Jezebel, and Jezebel alone, could understand within the depths of her true knowledge. Unfortunately, her dark haired caretaker had not yet realized that she had fallen prey to her world’s false beliefs, and was therefore enslaved. She was unknowingly bound and chained to the walls of a dungeon she had willingly built and carefully maintained.

Still… Jezebel knew there were breaches in those walls. Sooner or later, she would become aware of those invisible chains that bound her and then, yes, she would be ready to fulfill the task assigned to her. Until then, many were the ones interested in keeping her imprisoned… many, but not all. Aid would soon come knocking on her door, and when that happened, Jezebel would show her claws.

The black cat now sat on the kitchen counter, calmly observing the two sisters carrying their belongings inside the house.

Feeling observed, Kristie turned her head and saw Jezebel’s intense feline gaze focused on them.

“Hey!” she started directing her attention to Megan. “Have you given her water?” Kristie asked pointing at the cat.

“Oh crap, I forgot!” Megan realized, dropping everything that she was carrying and departing on a quest to find Jezebel’s water bowl. “Poor thing… We forgot all about you…” she said gently patting the cat’s head after finding the water bowl.

Attention, at last. Jezebel purred softly.

“There you go my little one…” Megan said, setting the bowl next to Jezebel. “Awww, she was thirsty.” She said,  looking at her sister.

“Yeah…” Kristie agreed. “And probably hungry too, ‘cuz I don’t remember to have fed her this morning.” She opened a cabinet and pulled out a can of cat food, opened it, and thought briefly that it actually smells better than most of what they serve for breakfast at the local diners. Lucky cat.

The creepy house wasn’t so creepy after all. That was Megan’s final opinion once she had stepped inside Aunt Alice’s former house. Only the outside looked dreadful, the inside was – at least in her humble opinion – quite pleasant even. Kristie was happy to see her sister’s resistance starting to fade.

Just like any thirteen year old would do, Kristie was initially accused of dragging Megan into an isolated place in the middle of nowhere, that didn’t even show on the stupid map. To that Kristie had merely replied “Lucky for us we have GPS then.” And then of course there was the town. It was a town where nothing ever happened and where the local sport was most certainly death either by boredom, or old age, whichever came first. To that Kristie gave no reply. It was probably true, Kristie had to give her that. The last time she had been there, she was ten and the town’s demography and activity were not on her list of concerns.

The kitchen and the living room were on the ground floor, the four rooms and the toilet were on the upper floor, and then there was the basement and the attic that could be used for storage. Kristie had a vague memory of the house’s layout and she was almost sure aunt Alice hadn’t made any changes. The furniture was old style, the décor too classic for Kristie’s taste and most of those horrible porcelain figurines had to go, but all in all the interior of the house was clean and well kept. It didn’t even have the characteristic smell that old houses usually have.

After drinking and feeding herself, Jezebel gracefully climbed down the kitchen counter, allowing the two sisters to continue their important tasks. Gingerly, the cat went up the stairs, momentarily stopping on the hallway leading to the bedrooms. At the end of that corridor was a half opened door, quietly inviting her to enter.

The dark bedroom was no challenge for the feline sight; Jezebel could see it as clearly as if there was light. She moved through the room. This would be the place, the very core of all the unspoken secrets that charged the air and the birthplace of unexpected ties.

Hoping to find another comfortable spot to lie down, Jezebel climbed up on the dressing table.

Behind her, the door silently closed.

Chapter IV