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[sabotabby]

I was walking with my childhood friend, A, to her parents' house. I hadn't seen A since my early teens, but we'd re-established contact lately and her family had invited me over for an Easter dinner. We were followed by a giant orange tomcat. I realized that I recognized him—the cat belonged to my other friend J. Recently, J's father and another man had been mysteriously murdered, found beheaded with icepicks in their eyes, in a third-floor room where no one could get easily in or out. I had been there when J found the bodies, and his cat had been tremendously comforting to the point of seeming almost human.

The cat trailed us until we reached A's house. A agreed to let him in, even though her mother disapproved. "He's a very strange cat," I told them. My friends R. and S., both of whom were more spiritually attuned than I was, had also met the cat and said that he housed the spirit of an ancient god. To make matters more awkward, Luna and Marinetti had also arrived. I also realized that A's family had moved into the house where J's family had lived only a few weeks ago.

A's mother was making Easter crafts in the kitchen, which consisted of hatching live inch-long multicoloured chicks from eggs. They squirmed in our palms. Some time later, I left, and A walked me home.

"Wait," I said, "where are the cats?" I didn't want to leave them with A's mom, who didn't seem to like them very much. We turned around and went back to get them. Suddenly I realized that I hadn't seen A's father for the last few hours of the party.

"He went up to his study on the third floor," she said. The orange cat was weaving around her ankles. We both went pale.

"Don't go up there," I begged. I knew what was waiting up there. She had to go. She ran upstairs. I heard her scream. She raced back down.

"He's dead," I said. "He has an icepick through his eye and his head is..."

"Yeah," A said. Her mother glared at me accusingly, as if I'd had something to do with it. The orange cat pressed closer to me.

"Your house is haunted," I offered, helplessly.

Obvious symbolism is obvious.

Comments

Yikes!

[ed-rex.livejournal.com]

Just reading that literally gave me the shivers; I'm glad as hell that wasn't my dream.

On the other hand: Best. Easter Crafts. Ever. (At least to read about.)

[cucumberseed.livejournal.com]

I got a Lovecraftian dream. It was not as scary.

[roter-terror.livejournal.com]

What a dream!

[marrythebed.livejournal.com]

Man, I'm sorry. That's awful. I find waking up from those dreams almost as traumatic as if they had happened.

p.s. A.'s father's eyeballs are clearly Trotskyists.