Death of a Cat

Death of a cat

“Who are you?!!!” The man screamed, his hands wrapping the gun so tightly that the gun threatened to deform under his grip. His knuckles were white. Beads of sweats were dripping down along his cheeks. The scent of fear bordering on madness, insanity was heavy in the air. His breathing was fast, jamming oxygen into his body in response to the ultra-high levels of adrenaline in the blood levels. His eyes were darting here and there, searching in the darkness that consumed him, in a dark room, in the dark, moonless night.

“Thud!” The man whirled at the source of the noise, his hands were shaking uncontrollably. His knees were buckling; his last vestige of sanity was fleeing. His heart rate was sky high, to the point that he could hear it beating against his mediastinum.

“Who’s there??! Show yourself?!!!” He demanded, his trembling voice echoed in the dark confines of the room. A room that he once considered a sanctuary, now a hunting ground for who or whatever that is stalking him in the darkness. He grimaced at such irony.

Almost instantly, a small form sprang out of the darkness, to land just in front of him. His heart almost leaped into his mouth, as natural reflexes kicked in to have him jump away. But in his haste and fear, something ensnared his foot… It was….just a wire, a telephone cable to be exact. He fell. Sprawled onto the floor like an overturned tortoise, he could feel the synthetic fibers of the carpet along his back that exerts a strange effect that terrifies him, causing his hair to stand on ends.

He was on wit’s end, and…

“Bang!!!” A noise reverberated throughout the room, shattering the silence of the night, its deafening tone drowning out the death wail of an animal…

“Meowwwwwwwwwww.w…………….!!!!!”

Loud as it is, it was of no consequence. There are no other people in the vicinity. There was just him. Him alone. No one could help him.

The smell of burnt flesh and gunpowder greeted the man’s nostrils as he sank to the floor, his smoking gun still warm in his hands, his mind still trying to ascertain what had transpired. His eyes were strained on the still lying form of the animal before him. A grim realization dawned upon him, he had killed Garfield.






Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of Garfield’s death. Garfield was a friend……so close……no, not just a friend……it was family!!! A pang of sorrow and regret stabbed the man’s heart as pearls of tears stream down profusely along his sunken cheeks from his eyes.

“Garfield……”

Out of the blue, something in the room shifted. Something not of this room. Something that is alien……Xenos. He froze on the spot, his ears concentrating on making certain the source of the noise. His breathing even stopped as he lay still. There was pure quietness, so silent that the man could ‘hear’ blood pulsing through his cerebral arteries into his brain. Time stood still as the man and the xenos played the dangerous game of wait and pounce.

“Dong!” The man’s steel-like concentration was shattered by the sudden noise as he spun at the origin, his gun ready for another kill. However, was greeted by the sight of tall, old fashioned grandfather clock, its short and long arms pointing to indicate the time ……

3.00am.

Sigh, it’s been long since he had ever slept past 3.00am. However, tonight, perhaps, he might not have survived the encounter, that is if whoever or whatever it was gets its way. But then, with the death of his cat, he was determined. He was determined to go down with at least a fight.

Or so, that was what he thought.

The simple, mere thought was all that betrayed him as the something in the room shifted again. This time, a deep voice emanated from the darkness within.

“Frederick Pollos, born 1974, Athens, Greece. Born in a family of 5 members. Father, Mikael Pollos, a farmer. Mother, Stellar Klopsossis, a house servant. You were the eldest, preceding two younger sisters.”

“Stop!!!” The man, known as Frederick Pollos gasped. Shocked as details of his personal life were spelled out before him, it was unbelievably accurate. Frederick was terrified. Terrified due to the fact the other person in the room knew every single detail of his life, while he knew almost next to nothing of the assailant. His eyes further widen in utter shock as the voice continued,

“1988, year of tragedy, all family members killed in an accident, presumably of accidental origin. However, their bodies were never found. Don’t you think it’s strange, Pollos? Or is it that you killed them?”

“No, it wasn’t me!!!”

“Why were their bodies not found? Or is it that they were already dead before the incident?”

2 pieces of photographs glide across the floor to land before Frederick. Trembling, Frederick picks up the photos with the other hand. As soon as he laid eyes on the photos, even more color fled from the visage that is his face. The first photo is the picture of 4 skeletons that have just been dug out, one of them clutching a necklace in his iron like grip. The next photo was of the necklace, bearing the emblem of a dolphin rising out of the water. It was the family heirloom, whom only the patriarch of the family is eligible to wear. The exact same design of the necklace now hung around his neck even as he breathes. The more significant of the two pictures is that from the former, one can see that all 4 skeletons died of unnatural causes……craniums smashed in, spines twisted out of place and so forth……

So, the secret is out. Something of malign intent stirred in Frederick’s mind.

“1990, walked into Athena’s Delight and opened fire on the customers. All twelve saved one people killed. Members of the Greek main political party were among the victims. The survivor was a child at that time, but has been incapacitated since then, has identified you as the assailant.”

“What is this nonsense?!!”

“1991, Greek embassies in Germany, England and France were bombed simultaneously. 36 people killed. Person claiming responsibility…a man, known as Hoplite. Hoplite, just a nickname, has another name. That name is Frederick Pollos!!! You!!!”

“Who are you to say? What’s the proof?!!”

“1995, Hoplite tries to assassinate the then Greek Prime Minister. But fails in his attempt”

“Like I said before, I am not Hoplite!!!”

“Hoplite, international terrorist, believed to be mentally unstable but a tactical genius. Have been trained at various terror camps around the world and is involved in countless crimes aimed at raising financial funds to launch attacks. Hundreds of deaths have been accredited to his name. Now, for the verdict…”

“Let me guess… Not guilty!!! Hahaha!!!” Frederick, suddenly with a glint of insanity in his eyes, drew his gun around and fired 3 shots in the darkness.

“Clever of you to bust my cover!!! Now, die……”

While he said, from the darkness, a silver streak of light flashed throughout the room, blanketing everything in the room with a brief spell of illuminating light, all within split seconds.

For Frederick Pollos, or Hoplite, it was the end of the road. As the light streak past, he could feel the coldness of steel biting deeply into his skin, cutting across the vital arteries of his neck. The words barely left his mouth, as he clutched futilely to cease the outflow of his vitae.

“Who are you?!!!” He gasped, his body arching down, his knees felling down on to the floor. His strength was fleeing, proportional to the life fluid flowing down along the lines of his arms. He could feel his body shivering, as muscles throughout his body spasm to cope with the rapid loss of blood. Frederick Pollos willed himself to live, though somewhere deep within the fortress that is of his mind, he knew…… the damage was done, he was dying.

From that moment, electrical impulses streaked throughout his nervous system as thoughts flashed one after another in his mind.

Yes dying.

For him, dying was just another phase in life, just that in his wildest dreams, he did not expect it to be this early.

Not when he still has other things to worry about…the master plan…

Not when he had yet to achieve his dream…to be part of the new order when the master plan is executed, to be part of Luminas Obis…

Most of all, not when he did not know… the face of the man…who killed him…

In the darkness, something stirred and from the shadows, a figure with medium built stood out. A man… a man whose features are enshrined behind a faceguard and a pair of goggles (night vision goggles to be exact). Clad like a ninja, the man was totally one with the shadows. Other features, the man could not make out, as his perception of sight is failing by the seconds, as he felt the moistness of his life fluid gathering about his dormant form. His eyes slowly wandered from down to top, in an attempt to remember the face of his killer.

He was disappointed as the assailant offered none of those.

Another distinct feature is of the slender blade hanging about in the air. Its handle disappearing abruptly in the darkness, covered interlacely by dark digits of the man’s right hand.

“Who are you?!!” The dying man said once again, knowing it to be his last words. His once proud voice now reduced to a coarse whisper. A ghost to its former self. His eyes wavered at the blade, whose tip is projecting at his direction, between his eyes. It was a long slender blade, 3 and half feet long and its thin flat morphology eases its concealment within the darkness.

“A messenger of death… harbinger of redemption for those you killed, their souls screaming for your death so long as you draw breath in this world. Thy sins are eternal, repent them in hell…”

The blade lowered, betraying the sight of blood dripping from the blade. With a swipe to the side, blood splattered along the white walls of the rooms, bearing full witness to the carnage.

For Frederick, the world that he was so used to see, registered in his mind, came to a sudden halt. His vision spun and dimmed as he descends slowly into oblivion, into the darkness, into the abyss.

In the chaotic world today, Frederick was but one of the millions of lights that flickered and died out in the wind. Like the candle in the wind. That wind has a name... Time.