Discord (updated version)

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Simon flexed his haunches, tensed his sleek grey body, pointed his ears, breathed deeply and unloaded his bowels at the base of a freshly planted tulip. By morning it would be dead, but that was ok. Because she will replant them, just like the basil and thyme in the back yard! He truly enjoyed relieving himself on aromatic herbs.
Melting through the remaining tulips and daisies he slipped under the rosemary bush and stopped in the driveway to clean the backs of his ears. After a stretch and a good roll he climbed onto his own porch and sniffed at one of his two planter boxes. It was his favorite and completely dead; his girl had yet to learn about consistency, a bed of dry petals and stems was unacceptable!
Perhaps he could create some competition with the plump female next door to inspire his own. She knew how to replant a garden in a timely manner! Tulips and peonies indeed! The females were easier to handle than the males. Perhaps it was that peculiar intuition of theirs. It was something that made them easy to train, but also compounded the mystery of their behavior.
The males however had smaller and slower brains. Naturally this made them difficult and at times impossible, but it also made them easily amused. He could make the poor imbecile coo and howl with delight, by simply chasing one of its untied shoe laces or pouncing on the various toy mice it liked to throw about. The poor simple boy, was only good for entertainment, it failed at everything else.
Simon wasn’t sure if it was love or pity that held him to the boy. It was a hopelessly stupid animal, forever crashing into things and lost in oblivion. It failed even to notice the needs of the girl, its mate and partner. Time and time again Simon was forced to explain, as if the boy could understand, the obvious needs of the girl. “You IDIOT! Why can’t you see she wants to cuddle?” The imbecile merely stared at the TV, a noisy box of lights and unfinished songs. Those were the moments that frustrated Simon, when the boy’s cerebral ineptitude upset the girl. He loathed anything that upset her, even the computer that drove her to frustrated howls at least once a day. He preferred the girl, they were closer, but they were both his. That made him responsible for them, even if one was adorable and the other a smelly cretinous beast.
Tucking his paws under his chest and settling his rump, he managed to get comfortable on what was left of the forgetmenots and young daisies. Closing his eyes he listened to the whispering symphony of falling dew, the soft trumpeting slumber of humans, sweet nocturnal lullabies in the indigo fabric of the sky.

Shortly it will grow cold and he will slip through the cat door, pad silently to the bedroom and launch himself onto the bed. He will walk the length of the nearest set of legs, filling the room with his roaring purr. He will knead everything in reach, pushing and pulling at mounds of blankets and flesh, his needle like claws digging deep. He will curl up between them and fall into a deep drooling sleep, but not before they are both fully aware of the presence he has blessed them with.
In a few hours it will be the crashing chorus of the sun, the tenor of birds and squirrels. Humans in their big cranky machines, playing percussion in the grand opera of day, tiny drum beats of pistons and sharp ringing symbols of gears in rhythm with the tired creaking earth. For now it was him and the early morning, sighing grass, humming stars his own heart beat drumming softly into the flowerbed under him. Perfection and harmony, everything was in its place. He could feel the atoms and molecules of being, the very essence of life around him, turning and vibrating and…separating.
Screeching cry of white hot hate penetrated the delicate harmony of night. The delicate balance of everything shattered. It was over in a nano second, but nothing was the same. Simon had never heard anything like it, a sharp high pitched shriek, cold and omniscent.
Simon stared wide eyed across the street, unable to comprehend what he just heard, every fiber of his being tense and on fire with panic. Lewis, the fat tabby who lived over there, staggered out from under a parked car. He stood in the middle of the street, his tail puffed his ears back.
He looked lost and confused; his eyes caught Simon’s and confirmed that he had heard it too. Simon bolted for the cat door, it wasn’t until he shot through that he realized his own fur was standing on end. Before it clicked shut behind him, he heard the dog next door whimpering uncontrollably.

Jackson gripped the bathroom sink to keep his hands from shaking, oh shit that was a weird dream! He couldn’t remember any details only that he was terrified; there was a presence, massive, dark and cold. It was not from this world and it was old, very old. How did he know that? He splashed water on his face to keep that feeling of cold darkness wrapping around him.
He could hear Caitlin through the bathroom door, talking to her retarded cat. He nearly killed it two minutes ago. He opened his eyes, scared shitless from that dream, heard the cat door click closed and this grey, ball of cat rockets into the bed, howling and shrieking. Something outside had spooked him. That eerie otherworldly shriek that cats had, always freaked him out and this was not the time for it!
He tried to steady his breathing and make his hands stop shaking; he didn’t want Caitlin to see him scared. She would want to know why and this was something he couldn’t explain. He wondered half hoping if this was one of those dreams where he would wake up again, but he didn’t. He was wide awake and that feeling, that cold primal terror was with him.
Coming out of the bathroom he found Caitlin, sitting up with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She was trying pet and comfort her retarded cat, but it was too freaked out. It ran back and forth meowing and chirping, it looked like it had been electrocuted all puffy and wide eyed. He was going to make a wise remark about the cat, and then he noticed that she was crying. “Baby what’s wrong?” She was pale and trembling “I had a really bad dream”


On a typical morning when the snooze button won them a reprieve, Simon curled up close to his warm sleeping girl. They rose together and stretched and padded sleepily to the bathroom. He took his place on the edge of the sink, yawned and cleaned his ears, while she took care of business. When she climbed into the shower he took the time to relish the soft towel she set on the back of the toilet for him. He relished the sweet bliss of warm and flowery aromas. Then it was to kitchen where she prepared his breakfast before her own, as she should. He ate voraciously while she collided and grunted with the boy, both completely out of step with each other, fumbling for coffee and toast. On most days she wore black pants and Simon took the time to climb into her lap and anoint her with all the grey and white fur he could shed. It was one of the many ways he showed his love to her. Today was different.
With the first grey shade of dawn he was outside conducting patrols. There were no morning preludes, no symphony of birds and insects just the whimpering dog. Everything was different, even the dew damp grass underfoot, it was changed as if the whole world had become inverted. Deep inside the big tree behind the house, he heard the squirrels burrowing deeper and deeper.
Running back inside he made every effort to keep himself between his girl and this intruder he felt everywhere. He stood guard for her while she showered, keeping himself between her and the door, ran ahead of her into the kitchen to chase it away and did his best to block the windows with his own body.
The boy was tired and annoyed; but he was also terrified. Simon could hear t his heart beating a hundred miles a minute while he slurped his coffee and ambled about the house. Even an imbecile knew that something malevolent had invaded their lives.
The girl didn’t eat and neither did he. For the first time ever, he turned down breakfast. Instead he stood guard at the window, while she had her third coffee.
She was scared too; he could feel it, vibrating from her skin. So he crawled into her lap to comfort her. Don’t worry my kitten, everything is going to be ok, you know I will protect you, I won’t let anything ever hurt you and that is a promise! She cooed softly, in return and scratched him behind the ears.
He followed her to her car, a small high pitched vibrating plastic machine. He watched her drive away and looked back at the house, the trees, the street and the tulips. It looked exactly the same, but it was all wrong, distorted and disconnected somehow. The sky was void of any clouds and the chorus of the sun….it was out of tune, more like a wailing hoard.

Caitlin contemplated calling in to work, but she just got promoted to team leader and how bad would that look. She was beat, but wide awake. She had never had a bad dream like that; she was still scared, but couldn’t remember what it was about. To make things worse, there was something wrong with Simon. He didn’t want to eat, and that was not like him. He had a hobbits appetite but today he didn’t even look at his dish.
They had their morning rituals, always in synch but, not today. She came out of the shower to find him positioned in front of the bathtub starring at the door, ready to pounce. He didn’t pad along beside her as she made her way through the house; he raced in front of her leaping onto window sills and counter tops. It was as if he was chasing something away or trying to warn her. This made her anxious, animals were intuitive…but it was just a dream.
The whole morning was off everything felt and looked the same, but different at the same time. Maybe she was getting her period or her hormones were out of balance again. Because when she flushed the toilet this morning she could swear the water turned backwards. In the shower the water felt rough and heavy, her toothpaste was missing something it tasted flat and empty. The coffee maker had something wrong with it, it gurgled differently as if it were coughing. The can of expensive organic cat food she opened for her baby, well it looked like they forgot to put something in it, but what? She couldn’t say.
She still felt it, that presence in her dream, standing over her, watching her. It was just a dream why was she so freaked out? Simon crawled into her lap and started to knead her leg. “What’s wrong baby?” she whispered scratching his ears “does mommy need to take you back to the vet?” looking up at her he purred louder and closed his eyes three times.
Caitlin noticed the silence as soon as she stepped outside and the air, it was heavy and dense. Her Honda sounded like it was falling apart when she started as if every screw was loose. The smarmy monotone NPR anchor who read the traffic and weather today sounded, well…worried. That made her all the more anxious. She just couldn’t shake it the feeling that she was being watched.

A day normally spent chasing squirrels, catching birds, tormenting the dog- an overly emotional beast- and enjoying the bliss of the sun’s chorus was spent in spinning anxiety. There were no naps or languid hours rolling on the sidewalk, just that feeling, cold and final.
The dog came out for a time, sniffing around the yard it destroyed. It was a waste land of holes and excrement. Typically it would run about barking and snorting, all emotion and no logic, weak and easy prey for taunting, but today….today…it whimpered at the sky its tail between its legs. Once it even dared bark at this intruder before cowering under the bush again.
He had tried to communicate with the intruder, but there was no answer. What did it want? Why was it here? And when will it leave? It merely sat there, icy and heavy. Somehow, Simon knew it understood him. Finally he snarled at it, barring his sharp teeth and sharpening his claws on a tree. He roared and howled and demonstrated his martial prowess. It merely remained unmoved, full of hate.
By the time the boy and made their way home Simon was exhausted and in a foul temper, but the anxiety of what he felt above, below and all around kept him up and moving. He wanted to cuddle with his girl, but he couldn’t sit still. So he took his position in front of the door, ready to pounce, rip and tear.
The sound of humans was some comfort, but their hearts were beating fast and the falling sun brought no relief. The rising moon was off key and the stars wailed and moaned, everything was out of rhythm and out of tune. The world had become a merciless cacophony of fear and woe, a circus of horror. He hated this thing that came here, cursed it with all his heart. Go Away! He growled for the thousandth time that day. It stayed an invisible darkness.
Things went on, the boy and girl went to bed, but did not sleep. He could hear them whispering to each other, primitive attempts at speech. Lewis had crawled under his own porch and the dog had begun to dig holes. The scratching and whimpering drove Simon crazy. Luna was in the middle of the sky, moaning in pain, the stars crying, the creaky old earth groaning , when he heard it again.
This time it came from everywhere, that shrieking, screaming bolt of pain! It lasted forever, the very sky itself grew heavy and began to fall. He felt it press down on him, colder than he had ever felt, crushing him. Then everything went black.

The muttering and scratching woke him up, he could barely stand. Lewis had lost his fur, his eyes were blank and he scratched in the middle of the street just like a dog digging. His claws had worn down and he was bleeding. His soggy red paws made sloppy brushstrokes on the concrete. He was muttering to himself and shaking.
Simon pulled himself up onto shaky legs, it was gone he could feel the absence. He limped closer to Lewis and watched him; the poor fellow had gone mad. Simon watched dumbfounded, until his hearing came back and he heard the litany Lewis was muttering: gone, all gone, they are all gone. Then Simon heard another absence.

He bolted through the cat door, the house was empty, he raced to every room, searching each nook and cranny. He stood in the living room listening, his ears scanning like radars. He heard nothing; they were all gone, every last one of them. He ran to the bed room, the sheets were still warm, she was gone, the boy was gone, and the sweet lullabies were gone. Everything had been taken. All he had left was the sound of mad scratching Lewis and the discord of mourning stars.