Toxoplasma

“Maybe you just didn’t get over Basil’s passing as much as you’d like to think you did.” Once my therapist said those words, I immediately regretted seeing him again. Basil was my cat. He passed away nearly a year ago from kidney failure. He was an old cat, and it hurt to lose him, but it wasn’t something unexpected; his health was noticeably declining for a while before I finally put him to rest.

I was at peace with Basil’s passing. Not that it didn’t hurt. It did, of course. He was a part of the family. It still hurts thinking about him. The same way that it hurts thinking about the people I’ve lost throughout my life. I doubt someone would tell me I’m still grieving over the passing of my grandpa who passed away eighteen years ago. Nor Helena, who was my best friend, who passed away seven years ago from IPF. I still think about her a lot. That doesn’t mean I’m still actively grieving.

Mentioning that I mistake random noises for Basil’s presence was a bad idea. I guess. That’s probably what made the doctor think I was still not over his passing. God forbid my mind misinterprets something a sound or a flash of light for my dead cat. I know he’s gone, and I no longer have his litter box or bowl, but sometimes my imagination acts out. On some days, when I’m completely drained, I can hear a sound that sounds remarkably similar to what he sounded like when he was digging in his litter or when he ate. I even have moments when I catch a false visual cue of his form jumping or walking about. It’s just common sense, I think. My brain conjures up images and sounds that had been a constant in my life for over a decade, to very similar stimuli.

Even more so when I’m drained and right now, that’s pretty much all I am these days - burnt out.

That said, having to deal with Basil’s ghost would’ve been far more pleasant than that thing. Even if he came back to haunt me because of some arcane antihumanitarian diabolical cat magic pact.

Speaking of that thing, I don’t know what the fuck it was. I don’t want to know what it was, but it looked like a cat. A gigantic cat. A gargantuan house cat of sorts and I’m not talking a thirty-pound Maine Coon big, I’m talking lion-sized big. Though, it wasn’t a lion… It was a cat… At least that’s what it looked like. In certain moments.

This whole thing is hazy, just like Basil’s imaginary phantom. I was having a hard time falling asleep, as often happens with people dealing with insomnia. Nothing seemed to help me get a good night’s sleep. Nothing short of pills, which I refuse to take because it seems like they’re letting you sleep without letting you properly rest. I might be wrong, but that’s beside the point.

Anyway, thinking about not thinking, or thinking about nothing, isn’t an option. Counting sheep and whatnot doesn’t work either. These things make me think and therefore keep me alert enough to not fall asleep. Same with breathing exercises. My mind has a hard time shutting off, but it eventually grows tired of running around and lets me rest, insufficiently most days, but that’s something too.

That night, I couldn’t fall asleep, and I was getting frustrated with my restlessness. Instead of tossing and turning in bed, I got out of bed and dragged my aching joints for a walk around the city.

No later than ten minutes into my stroll, I began hearing this beautiful melody in the distance. Something inside told me to follow the melody, and so I did. Before long, all I could think about was finding the source of this wonderful song echoing ever louder in my ears. I was so enamored by this song that I didn’t even notice where I had gone.

This magnificent song completely enchanted me. An ethereal keening performed with an angelic voice filled with a sorrowful, droning hum and pained delivery. So much so that I ended up dumbfounded on the other edge of the city when the stench of decaying trash finally returned me to my senses. I was standing at the edge of the landfill, not sure how I got there, but it was eerily quiet. The hauntingly terrific melody was gone.

Not that I had the time to be dumbfounded. As soon as I realized what happened, a shadow flew over my head and my body moved on instinct, flinching at the sight of the oncoming object. A dark mass landed not too far from me as the unfortunate circumstances of my military experience came into effect once again.

The mass shifted quickly, revealing a pair of jaws filled with serrated teeth.

My brain shifted gears and forced my legs to run without direction. I just had to get as far away as I could from that thing. As I ran, it hissed like a threatened cobra. I could hear its weight pressing against the ground behind me. It was a heavy thing. I just ran, trying my best to ignore the panicking internal dialogue raging inside my head.

After a couple of minutes, the noise behind me faded out, and I slowed down, now walking with intent, trying to make sense of what had happened to me as I made my way home. I walked for a few more minutes in the dark streets until I heard the single most terrifyingly uncanny sound.

A sudden and unexpected meow that just echoed straight into my ears out of nowhere. In that moment, this simple meow sent chills down my spine, forcing me to stop and turn. I couldn’t see much in the dark. The street lamps in this part of town are old and far too few to provide any kind of sufficient illumination.

A second meow glided across the nothingness as I saw a sliver of a shadow darker than the darkness itself slithering its way through the street. My body moved on its own. Forcing me to run again.

The meowing followed, occasionally growing deeper, too deep. With each successive call, I ran faster. As I ran, I looked back every now and again to see if I had lost whatever the hell was following me. Each time, I heard yet another uncanny meow.

By the time I had gotten to a properly illuminated neighborhood, I could see the shadow snaking around behind me from time to time. The meowing had gotten more erratic, more desperate, more sinister even. At one point resembling the sound of a man badly mimicking the sounds of a cat. These strange vocalizations made me feel even worse, and I was slowing down as my body was finally succumbing to exhaustion.

My lungs were on fire and my heart bouncing into my throat, my body was begging me to slow down and once the meowing had gone silent; I figured I could stop for a moment. By this point, I wasn’t too far from my home too. Shouldn’t have done that. Immediately, I saw two orbs floating in the darkness before the craziest puma growl ever exploded right in front of me, freezing me in place.

The beast pounced on me. I could see its mass flying straight at me and I don’t know what happened, but I just stumbled over my feet, thinking I’m just going to die. By sheer dumb luck, the beast overshot me and I heard it slamming onto the ground with a loud thud. It hissed at me and, fueled by a new wave of adrenaline; I just bolted out of there. As fast as my body would allow me to run. I sprinted full force, completely ignoring the fact my shins and knees screaming in pain and my lungs drowning in fire. I couldn’t stop as long as that thing was right behind me. It was making these really breathy noises, almost as if it was laughing at me.

I had a one-track mind at that moment, lose the damn thing at all costs. No matter how far I pushed, though, the thing seemed hell-bent on getting to me. I could almost feel its rancid hot breath across the back of my throat at points.

I was lucky there weren’t many late-night drivers around that night because I would’ve probably ended up dead, running across the road as I did. Never stopping to check whether there was any oncoming traffic. Fear is a powerful motivator sometimes and at that moment there was nothing I was more afraid of than the ghastly predator hot on my trail.

I didn’t know how much longer I could run at that pace. The morbid realization that this beast refused to conform to the laws of nature was absolutely terrifying. On the one hand, the fear provided me with additional fuel, and on the other, I was growing exhausted by the second. And that thing just ran at a high speed for longer than any goddamned cat should be able to.

The only reason I could even keep the distance between us was because I kept zigzagging and crisscrossing between buildings and roads as I ran.

Finally, as I began feeling that this was the end, a tidal wave of light behind me forced to beast to come to a halt. The deafening sound of a car horn blaring forced me to stop and turn. At that moment I saw the beast that was trying to hunt me. The flood of light completely demystified the creature, leaving it naked before my eyes.

It was a massive dark cat; far bigger than any cat I’d ever seen before, covered in a striped gray and brown fur. It contorted its face in rage as it hissed, baring its teeth at the approaching vehicle. The sound the beast made jolted me once last time before it turned around and ran off into the darkness. Blending perfectly into the shadows as the car sped away between us.

I didn’t sleep that night, nor the one after it… I don’t sleep much lately, in fact. I have a hard time around cats now, and it seems like they’re everywhere nowadays. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. It might just be the lack of sleep finally getting to. Still, I just can’t shake the feeling of being stalked by a horde of cats. Every time I hear a cat outside, I’m reminded of that awful scowl. They just keep meowing and hissing all the God damned time. It’s like they’re following me. I can’t help but feel like they’re waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear, there weren’t that many cats around here before.

What’s worse is that every one of those cats looks at me. My entire body seizes up because all I can see is the terrible scowl and blood-red eyes. Evil eyes serving as a gateway from which the void is gazing with a palpable lust for blood.

Lately, even the phantom flashes of Basil I get seem more ghastly and, at the same time, more tangible. There’s an air of cold malevolence to them. These lapses in perception are no longer a bittersweet reminder of a beautiful past, but a sign of a predatory presence toying with its food.

It scares me to say this, but I’m having a hard time telling what is imaginary and what’s not.