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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Dark · #2263611
Beware the Yule Cat - have you been hardworking all year long?
The Yule Cat is huge, inky black with spiked claws
and her penchant for killing gives everyone pause.
She stalks those who laze about, caring for naught,
who didn't receive Christmas clothes as they ought.

Her eyes are two lanterns, aglow with foul fire
and she hisses and calls like a demon-filled choir.
Her body is fluid, her collar reads "Bitch"
Her father is Satan. Her mother? A witch.

Once Santa is gone and the gifts opened up,
she stretches, then drains kitten blood from her cup.
Waiting and watching - no rush, for she knows
there will always be some lacking presents of clothes.

She stalks them at night under cover of dark
and her paw lashes out, never misses her mark -
Through eyes and soft innards, her cat-claw will rip
and into their brains her forked tongue will then dip.

She prefers to dispatch all her victims alive,
relishing pain-screams - on terror she thrives.
So make sure some clothing sits under your tree
or Yule Cat will kill - maybe you, maybe me.

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