The Christmas Cat

In the freezing cold terrain of a dark valley thrived a small, prosaic town. Despite the greyness of the terrain and their monotonous lives, the townsfolk were happy, with whole community viewing one another as family. Two children in particular, Inperitia and Amor, were particularly jolly, and their presence elated the hearts of the villagers wherever they where present.

They were the children of the head of the town, Caute, and as such they were expected to act responsibly. However, Inperitia, the chief’s daughter, was oblivious to danger, constantly engaging in reckless behavior, and Amor, his son, was too quick to give his heart to people, too quick to cry. The chief saw this behavior steadily take a hold in his children and wondered what action he should take. A close friend told him a belt would do the trick. Another told him to let them be children a while longer. And a third told him to sit them down and discuss the issue with them, before considering any further action. He took the advice of the third person, and sat his children down on the evening of the Winter Solstice. He explained to them that, as a father, he worried for them. He worried that they were not prepared to be let out into the world, and he told them that he agonized over it every night he went to sleep, the dangers they could face. His children, puzzled, asked him why he was so worried. They were educated, they were crafty, and very active. They did not understand what he was asking of them. He sighed, and simply told them that these were the worries of a parent, and that they would continue this conversation another day.

The children, however, in their infinite curiosity, could not stop pondering their father’s last words about the worries of a parent. In order to understand their father, they thought as they got into bed, they would need to experience being parents. And so, they went to sleep, dreaming of their father’s dilemma.

No sooner had their eyes fluttered shut, they heard a yowling outside their window. Rousing his sister, Amor stumbled to the window and glanced outside. They saw a cat the size of a small pony shuddering in the snow. The creature had white fur, most likely to blend in with the snow, but Amor could see no more than that. He and his sister threw on thick clothes and slowly crept downstairs and then outside.

It was not just a cat, but a kitten. Though several times the size of a normal one. It fixed its massive eyes on them but did not move. The children glanced at each other, wondering what to do now that they had come this far. Amor finally suggested that they take it to the abandoned shed at the edge of the town. Inperitia excitedly agreed. Approaching the cat tentatively, they goaded it across the street, towards the haunting, massive shed. When they were finally out of the snow, they took a good look at the great cat. Its eyes were different colors, giving it an eerie look in the darkness of the shed. The left eye was blood red while the right was a clear blue color. Inperitia suddenly had an idea. She avidly explained how, using this kitten, they could finally gain parental experience. Amor and his sister jumped with joy, and began making plans for raising their new cat.

As time went on, they secretly fed the kitten, played with it, and took it outside to teach it about surroundings. They had soon come to realize, during a particularly awkward situation, that it was male. This pleased Amor, and he constantly referred to the speedily-growing cat as ‘son’. The cat, too, had come to love his new caretakers, welcoming them with gleaming eyes and a low purr when they visited early in the mornings and late in the evenings. A year had already passed, during which the cat had grown so large that it occupied most of the shed, and that is when things took a terrible turn.

One day, on one of their daily visits, the children had been horrified to discover the carcass of an animal in the barn, ripped limb from limb, with its parts strewn all over the floor. While they had slowly become more aware that a few slabs of meat from the butcher’s would eventually not suffice, they had not been prepared for the violence of a wild animal’s kill. They quickly took the cat- they had yet to decide on a name- and washed it off in the shallow river flowing in from the mountains. They then went on their daily stroll, the cat unaware of the growing tension in his caretakers.

A week passed and it was discovered that the butcher was missing. He did not even seem to have made it to his shop, which was still locked. Houses were searched. Bad blood between neighbors was addressed. But no one knew who would want him dead. No one noticed the chief’s children turn paper white with terror at the possibility of what could have occurred. As they raced to the shed, they prayed they were wrong. They prayed that they would find their cat innocently sleeping with no blood on his paws, like how he used to in his youth. And they truly did find him sleeping. They also found the apron the butcher usually wore tossed into a corner. They could barely make it out through all the dried blood. And as they wept tears of great sorrow, they heard boots behind them, and turned to find the villages sturdiest men, armed with weapons behind their father, who looked upon his children with great pain in his eyes as they explained that they finally knew what he meant when the spoke of a parent’s love, begging him not to kill the cat. Tears in his eyes, he gently told his children that no, they did not understand, and ordered his men to charge forward. Their child, their cat, who they had spent so long pouring their love into, lunged forward and killed the villagers, slashing open stomachs and ripping apart bodies. And among the slain was their father. Howling in agony and rage, Amor picked up a sword and pursued the cat into the village, where his path of destruction had continued. He lay on his side among the slain, injured. Amor looked upon his child’s wide eyes, his hands shaking as he lifted the pickaxe over his head and closed his eyes. And it was in that moment of pure silence and clarity that he decided on a name for the cat. And he called him Dolor, for all the pain and suffering he had wrought.