This book appears to have been caught by
someone and written in, but there appears to be no witnesses to who exactly caught the book and wrote in it? There is a name signed on it though!
@
sockmonkeygerald @
paintminion @
Sinjin @
eyayah
Name: Sushispider1212
ID: 586970
Entry Prompt: Big Wide Wingy Things - Story
Entry Title: The Lantern-bearing Cat
Dragon Author:
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All along the way, the lanterns lit up the air. They floated along misty streets, following their unfortunate companion.
The black cat’s tail flicked as he passed his usual alley, but he had to continue. It was this or starve tonight, and he wasn’t willing to make that tradeoff. The lanterns shook around him as he continued.
His paws were soaked by the puddles on the flooded ground, but he could care less about that. He’s been out here his entire life (a good two years), and a little water wouldn’t faze him.
The buildings gradually grew smaller around him, more farther apart while they were at it. The road was more cracked here, the stone cleaved open by rainfall over the years. The dim light from the few remaining street lamps flickered and threatened to throw any unlucky sap wandering nearby into darkness.
The cat didn’t pay it any heed though, he’d been this way many a time before.
The road finally came to a stop at a dead end, cracked stone stairs leading up into the imposing door of a dilapidated building. The cat stumbled to a halt, the lanterns slowing to curl around him like vines.
The door was wooden, partially rotten from the rain that constantly plagued these streets. It would be easy for him to slip inside, but he would wait. It was rude otherwise.
The lanterns would catch her attention soon, but he let out a yowl in greeting anyway. She got caught up with her work often, but he usually didn’t have to wait long.
Lo and behold, almost immediately after his greeting, the door very, very slowly creaked open. It could’ve been the wind, but he knew better.
He took one last whiff of the rain-scented outside air, and started up the steps, hopping up one at a time, until at last the dark door loomed above him. The lanterns doggedly followed, trying to hop as well, but mostly bobbing in the air as he pulled them along.
She had already left by the time he entered the threshold of the house, back to her work. The house smelled like sweet rot and dust, like usual. Dust was what usually occupied this place anyway.
The dark front room was easily illuminated by the lanterns, who were exploring the space eagerly. The only furniture in here was a table and chairs, which, like the rest of the place, were dusty and half-rotten. The walls were a dim grey color, whatever former paint they had faded due to time. The floor was tiled, so there really was no risk of falling through as he walked across it to the hallway.
There was only one piece of furniture up here that wasn’t dusty, and that was the bookshelf, a little bit scratched but the books in it were very much loved by her. He passed it in the hallway and one of the lanterns drifted close to it, but soon passed with the rest of them to follow him.
From here, he could go up the stairs, which were mostly rotten by now, or down into the basement, where she worked. He, of course, chose to go down.
The little door to the basement was at the side of the stairs and it laid wide open. These stairs, still wooden, were well maintained. Because, of course, she used them.
Down and down he and the lanterns went. They seemed wary of the stairs, but followed him anyway. They trusted him.
The walls were that same dim grey, and there wasn’t even a railing like the other stairs. It was easy for him to go down them, at least.
Down and down he went, spiraling hypnotically. He could forget where he was at times, but he swore he never would. She was waiting for him.
Just as his paws were getting sore, he turned a corner in the stairs and there it was. The door to her workshop laid just ahead, cracked open for his convenience.
The lanterns didn’t want to follow him now. But they had no choice, as the string tied around his neck connected all of them to him. It didn’t matter, their choice to not follow.
The room beyond was much brighter than the rest of the house. She glowed with her own unearthly presence, hunched over her latest project. Her eyes were golden like the lanterns as she leaned in close to her work.
A fabric scrap was clawed up from the side table and shoved onto the table where the toy was being worked on. Her long, needle claws stitched it on with a cruel efficiency. She didn’t blink as she snatched up another fabric piece and added it on too.
The patchwork thing was almost done.
He’d come just in time.
Her gaze turned his way, a faint acknowledgement, and then turned back down to the toy in her claws.
The door had closed behind him.
The lantern didn’t have time to scream as it was snatched up as well, those claws ripping into its thin, paper shell and releasing its glow into the innards of the toy, which were quickly sealed up. The paper was discarded into the corner, on the pile with the rest.
The toy was set to the other side, a winged dog made of patchwork fabric and leather, wings haphazardly attached, but it would likely be able to fly. She wouldn’t be so cruel as to not give it the freedom it wanted.
It was his turn now anyway.
He hopped up onto the table and sat patiently where the toy was. His fabric was a bit damp from the rain, but it was still good for a while.
The lanterns strained against their bounds, but they were forced to follow him to the table and watch.
He presented his chest to her.
Her eyes really were like the lanterns.
