Information

Man has a minion!

Spooked by the Black Cat

Man
Legacy Name: Man

The

Graveyard Escalade
Owner:

Vain

Age: 15 years, 9 months, 2 days

Born: July 17th, 2008

Adopted: 11 years, 11 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: April 21st, 2012

Pet Spotlight Winner
February 14th, 2014

Statistics

Level: 49
Strength: 94
Defense: 105
Speed: 54
Health: 86
HP: 86/86
Intelligence: 1
Books Read: 1
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

the downfall

The door creaked open and he stepped inside. He gasped for breath and looked about him; he didn't think he was being followed, but he couldn't take any chances. Although no one seemed to be about, he was still on edge and could never trust just a first glance. With one last quick look at the street outside, he closed the door.

At last, the immediate threat of being out on the open street dealt with, he had time to look about. He found himself in the lobby of what appeared to be an old apartment complex. Rusted metal mailbox slots filled the walls around him and, beside the next door, stood a speaker and a set of buttons. Presumably these were for the resident's mail and for visitors to be able to call up; no one, of course, used them any more. He slowly approached the slightly warped wooden door. A cautious hand reached up towards the knob. Unlocked.

As he continued inside and shut the door, his hand reached automatically towards the smooth wall to feel for a light switch. Three years after his world had been turned upside down and he still hadn't gotten rid of that useless habit. Flipping the switch would do nothing. There was no electricity to power the lights and, even if it were possible to turn the lights on, he wouldn't want to. Coming back to the city was dangerous enough. There was always a great risk of being seen or running into other survivors. Still, the cities were where the supplies were -- if he wanted food, he had to risk running across others in order to obtain it.

He shuddered, thinking about the alternative. In the early days, things had seemed fine. No one really knew the extent of the damage. They had no idea that the majority of life on Earth had been destroyed. At first, there had been hope: hope that someone would come to save them. For weeks, they had managed to survive on this hope. But weeks turned to months and the months kept increasing. They ran out of supplies and they ran out of food. People were getting desperate. Some of them, he didn't want to think about which ones, began to realize that their only means of getting food was to steal it from others. Then, they began to think that if there were less survivors, there'd be more left for them. And then, finally, when it seemed hopeless, they stopped thinking of others as sources of food, but rather food itself.

He hoped he would never turn down that path. He had learned that the safest thing for him would be to stay away from others and, for the most part, he had succeeded in that goal. Still, there were times when he himself was left to forage and that was when he came to the only place he knew: the city. Here, at least, there were the remnants of civilization. If he was lucky, he might come across an old food or supply cache that he could use to survive a few more days. At least here, he would have some shelter.

A crash sounded from somewhere within the apartment. Immediately, he was alert, bringing his knife to the ready. If there were others around, he'd have to be prepared to deal with them. A flash of grey caught his eye and he spun, wildly. He stopped short, however, when he saw the intruder was no more than a cat. Gingerly, the cat stepped towards him and meowed.

He reached down and scratched it between its ears.

"What are you doing around here, fella?" he said quietly. The cat merely looked up at him with its hazel eyes. "Hiding away from the others, are you?"

As he swung his rugged bag on the ground, the cat stepped closer and rubbed against his legs.

"Affectionate, aren't you?" The man took a pause to lick his parched lips. His voice reverberated awkwardly through his throat; it had been a long time since he had found occasion to talk. "Eh, but I suppose it's better than me. I've been by myself so long that now I'm even talking to a cat."

The creature lifted a small paw up towards him, almost as if in understanding.

"Well, aren't you just a genius?" He snickered. "But still, there's something about you. Did you know, my neighbor used to have a cat. The darn thing used to sit on my porch all day long, watching people come by. You know, back in the days when people used to come over for a friendly chat."

He sighed.

"I remember what it used to be like to call up a friend and ask them to meet me at a bar for a drink. Just two guys, hanging out. It was-" he paused, unable to come up with the correct word. "It was fun."

His voice trailed off. The cat, which had ceased trying to catch his fingers underneath its paws, stood up. Almost as suddenly as it had appeared, it ran off into the mystery of the apartment.

He was alone, again.. or so he thought.