The Protectors

Prompt Day #51: It’s common knowledge that serial killers often torture pets or insects in their youth. Write a scene where an animal tortures a kid, instead.

The Protectors

                When the boy woke up he found himself tied to a tree in the woods behind his house. It was still dark but morning was peeking over the edge of the horizon with a stormy grey eye. It would not get bright for some time. His eyes gradually adjusted to the light. There were four of them at least, although seeing that they were no bigger than the average house cat, he guessed there must be many more to have successfully carried him out of his bed and into the woods. The four surrounding him were standing on two legs, each one’s stance appeared humanoid. The one to his immediate right held a jar half as big as it was. The one to his left stood with a hand on his hip and the other held up as if inspecting its claws. He knew there was one standing at his head because it worked its front claws into his scalp as if it was a masseuse. The one at his feet held its front paws, claws extended, over the tops of the boy’s bare feet.

They were whispering to each other and the boy was surprised to find he could understand them.

“We must do it now. It will be light soon.” The one at his feet, an orange tabby, hissed.

“We will wait until we receive the order as we discussed.” said the sleek black cat to his left in a very proper British accent.

“His hair is so soft, I vant to sink my claws into him and pull it out.” This came from the cat at his head. An obvious female voice that reminded the boy of a lady mouse detective from a Disney movie his sister had made him watch once. He imagined this cat would be a fat white Persian, probably wearing a diamond studded collar. Her nails were digging deeper into his scalp as she spoke.

“Come on; let me pour it on him. You know he’s the one. This was Tucker’s house; I’ve seen this boy with him before. We don’t need to wait.” This came from the one holding a large jar of some kind of liquid. The boy couldn’t tell what it was. The cat was a Calico, mostly black and white but he had a large orange patch over his eye and one on his tail which was swishing back and forth wildly. He stiffened when he heard them mention Tucker’s name. Tucker had been his cat, what he liked to refer to as his lab cat. He experimented on Tucker. He wanted to be a mad scientist like Victor Frankenstein, but he wanted to build an animal monster, taking the best parts from each animal. Tucker underwent a variety of tests before succumbing. The boy wasn’t ready to start his project yet though, so Tucker was buried out here beneath a tree and everyone else in the family assumed he’d run away.

“The Ambassador will be here shortly. He will make the final identification.” The British black cat said.

The boy said nothing, the Persian’s claws were too close to his eyes, he couldn’t risk it. The cats were silent except for a low hum deep in their throats, purring in anticipation.

“I see you found the boy. Very good.” A velvety voice somewhere behind him grew louder as it approached. “And the others?” the voice inquired.

“Yesss, we’re ready as are they, Sssir” Hissed the tabby.

“Can we begin?” Asked the patch-faced calico

“Please.” The voice said. The boy managed to turn his head slightly and saw in his peripheral vision, the largest long haired smoke-grey cat he’d ever seen. The Ambassador, he presumed, had arrived.

The calico began to pour the liquid which turned out to be honey onto the boy, the clawing at his head became frenzied. The boy lifted his arm to look at the honey running over it.

“Now, Now, I think we told you earlier to keep still. Would you like us to restrain you, Lab Boy?” The British black said. The Persian’s claws dug deep into his scalp. The boy yelped.

“I’m sure Tucker would have liked to see this but alas, you tortured him to death. Now it is time for you to learn what it feels like to suffer.” The Ambassador said. Cats began coming out of the woods, the mass of them climbed onto the boy from every angle. They began to lick the honey off with their sandpaper tongues. At first it felt ticklish and the boy squirmed, The tabby at his feet began to drag his claws across the boy’s skin, over and over, the Persian at his head was doing the same and the feeling was unbearable. But it wasn’t long before the constant sandpapering on his skin took first place as most unbearable. His whole body was on fire, it felt like a sun burn. The Persian’s claws were coming closer to his eyes, her excitement palpable. He closed his eyes. Immediately two cats were on his face licking at his eye lids. The wouldn’t let up. He wanted, needed, to reach up and bat them away but his hands were being gnawed on by what felt like tiny kitten teeth. He was writhing around but the more he moved. The closer the cats got to him.

By full dawn, he had no eye lids left, his eyes burned and watered. The cats lapped up his tears as they ran down his cheeks until holes were worn in his cheeks exposing his teeth. His fingers had been chewed to nubs. His feet were in shreds. They were working on his stomach now, it couldn’t be too much longer before they reached his intestines. He couldn’t blink, and he knew it should be getting brighter out, but in fact it was getting darker. The cats continued their work. The Ambassador still stood at the edge of his peripheral vision overseeing their work.

“How does it feel, Lab Boy? Were you aware that most serial killers start out as animal torturers when they are young? Just like you. Humans have too much sentiment when it comes to their offspring. They would never put a stop to them even though they realize something is terribly wrong. That, my friend is where we come in; we will find you and stop you before you hurt another animal or grow up to be a killer. It is a sad thing that humans do not police their young, isn’t it boy?” The ambassador leaned down into the boy’s face. He smiled.

“One less killer in this world.” He said and shoved his head into the boys mouth, forcing it back into his throat. They boy, who’s innards were now scattered on the forest floor having been strung about like yarn by the kittens, didn’t struggle. He convulsed once and it was over. It was all over.

“Good work everyone” The Ambassador said, shaking his head to fluff his hair back up. “This boy would have killed twenty-five women had he lived ten more years. This was the right thing to do. I know it is hard for you all, being pets of many of his classmates and other young people like this boy. But this boy wanted to kill. He thought about it every day and had he gotten the opportunity, he would have killed any one of you or your own boys or girls. You may go home now. Thank you again.” He said, falling down to all fours and heading home. His girl had warm milk waiting for him and some kibble. It had been a long night.