The Smiling Cat (Alternate Version)

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Uploader's note: This is an alternate/edited version of The Smiling Cat where multiple people added their own parts to the original story without the author's permission. The original version can be found here.

I remember the first time I saw him. I was taking a night walk like I sometimes do. I was never scared to go out at night; my neighborhood never had any crime bigger than shoplifting or speeding.

I was taking a walk through a local park, and I had just sat down on a bench, underneath a lamp-post. This dark black cat walked out in front of me.

I thought I heard him purring, and he didn't seem like he was going to hurt me, so I reached out and started to pet him. He meowed and made cute little noises and purred.

He began to purr louder, and brush up against my leg, as some cats do. He opened his mouth, not to meow but he showed me his teeth like he was smiling for just a second, then he closed it. Something made the bushes rustle up ahead, and he bolted off. It was getting pretty late, so I started to walk home.

I got to my door, and right as I put in my key, I heard a meow from right behind me. I turned around, and there was that same cat, sitting up, looking right at me with big green eyes, it was a scary green almost neon. Now I know you aren't supposed to feed wild animals, but I couldn't help it. He looked so hungry. I went inside, and hurriedly got a small paper plate, and put some small slices of ham on it. I opened the door to give it to him, but he was gone. So I set the plate down right outside my front door. I made the psst psst sound that almost every cat comes to but there was no trace of him.

After that I went to bed, as it was around 11:30. That night I woke up to something tapping on my window. I would have been a bit scared, had I not been to sleepy to comprehend anything. I turned over in my bed to see that same cat, sitting up, with those big green eyes, right on my window sill. He was definitely smiling now. I could see the slightest hint of white near his mouth, as his teeth were just barely showing.

His tail was flailing happily like his tail had a mind of its own, and bouncing against my window in the process. I didn't notice at that moment, but I did realize something later that day. I always keep my blinds down and closed, and my curtains over the window. But when I saw the cat, the curtains were parted and the blinds were up.

I woke up that day, not even remembering that sight, and got ready for my usual day. Fast Forward a few hours, I don't want to bother with details. I left my work office, not thirty minutes away from my house, and there, in the parking lot, right beside my car, was that same cat.

Sitting and smiling, with the green eyes that looked even bigger. Looking right at me. At this point, I knew something was up. I called animal control, and they came and caught him, when they were taking him away he was staring at me with eyes narrowed like he was plotting to kill me for giving him away. I had a lot more peace of mind for the rest of the day, until that night.

I didn't take a walk that night, as I was a bit unnerved about that cat. In fact, I didn't even leave the house for the rest of the day. Right before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard pawing on my bedroom door, but I dismissed it as my laundry machine, a mouse, or some other common sound. But that morning, I awoke to something terrifying. The same cat was laying right there on the end of my bed, asleep, still with that smile that I have come to know is a demonic smile on his face, I could even see a few teeth that were so long they were sticking out of his mouth. I had had enough. I knew I would probably have animal rights people down my throat about what I was going to do, but I didn't care. I grabbed that cat by the neck, he didn't even scream or thrash around like a normal cat would.

I threw it into the backyard, and beat it to death with a shovel. Throughout the whole 10 minute process, he did not meow or hiss even once. When I had regained control of my thoughts and actions, the cat was barely recognizable. His front two legs were broken, his right ear was torn, his ribs were demolished, his face had a huge dent in it and his fur was becoming infused with blood. I couldn't believe what I had done. I didn't have to come into work that day, so I put his mangled and blood drenched corpse in a box, drove far out of the city, and buried it near a forest on the side of the road. Do you know why? Because I'm a jerk. I was really shaken.

I thought about this. How had that cat gotten inside my bedroom, let alone my house? I didn't want to think about it. I got some lunch from a fast-food restaurant and went home to take a nap. I was exhausted, and it was only 12:30. I guess I slept all through the day, but I wish I had slept longer.

I woke up on my own, and was immediately compelled to look to my window and saw what has scared me for the rest of my life. It was that cat, with his damaged body, smiling larger than ever before, and staring right at me. His eyes were not bright green anymore and were oozing blood. They were pitch black, as if his pupils had enlarged to his entire eye.

He looked at me and he started to dance... His broken limbs flailing about in an unnatural and horrifying manner, his left leg was still bent the wrong way, and his ear was still torn. Every time he moved a sickening crack could be heard. I screamed and ran for my life, got in my car, and drove as far away from that city as possible. I'm now trying to start a new life in a new state, and I will be damned if I ever interact with any wild animals ever again. One day I came home from my new job and went in my bedroom.

I saw something on the bed. It was that cat. He looked somewhat strange. I was scared by the mystery of how it got in here. It couldn't have been the last one, it looked nothing like it. Then suddenly, it's eyes changed to a crimson red color and it smiled a truly evil smile. I screamed at the top of my lungs as it began to walk towards me, hissing at me. I threw everything that came to have at it, but it slashed through the objects like a hot knife through butter. It pinned me to the ground and slashed and slashed and slashed me with it's claws, all while smiling like a mental hospital escapee. But, as if god were watching over me, the police burst through the door, saw what was happening and shot the demon off of me. The police didn't ask any questions about what had happened, and if they did what could I say? That day is forever carved into my mind, slowly ripping me apart and never leaving my mind.

But then I realized if it was able to come back once, what's stopping it from coming back again?

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