Casanova Read online

Page 4


  The shop was bathed in moonlight. Mariya’s eyes began adjusting to the lingering glow. Everything appeared in its place, but for the overwhelming number of cats covering the entire floor in a carpet of fur, and the tall figure standing amongst them. With the moonlight streaming in through the large display window the intruder was silhouetted and appeared only as a shadow. The dark figure had its back to Mariya. She could see it was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans.

  As the figure turned towards her and lowered the hood she could see it was a young man. He had pale skin and deep red lips. His long black hair was marked with streaks of white. The same pattern was repeated in his goatee.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  The young man began walking towards Mariya and as he went the cats at his bare feet parted like loyal subjects making way for their king.

  “I don’t have a son.”

  He never looked down, he never missed a step, and he kept his blue grey cat like eyes on Mariya as he came closer.

  “I said I have no son. Get out. Now.”

  She gripped the bat and raised it high.

  “Fifty-two moons have come and gone since we saw each other last,” he began as he stopped directly in front of her, “and not one has passed without my thoughts turning to you.”

  Mariya began to sense something familiar about the young man. He reached up slowly and put his hand on the hand that gripped the bat. He never took his eyes from hers as they lowered her arm together. The young man slipped the bat from her hand and dropped it to the floor.

  “I’ve come home, Mother.”

  The mysterious stranger put his arms around Mariya and drew her close to him. Her senses were immediately overwhelmed. His physical warmth was familiar. The smell of his hair was familiar. His fingernails digging gently into her back as he pulled her closer felt familiar. Images of a small black and white kitten came to her mind. A rocking chair. A book. Music and singing. All these images raced through her mind and they all came to an abrupt end when she felt a purr growing in his throat.

  “Casanova?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

  The purring grew more intense and then began to fade as the young man let her go. Casanova stood before her, took her head in both his hands, and kissed her gently on her forehead.

  “How is this possible?” she asked.

  Casanova smiled.

  “Cruelty, Mother.”

  As Casanova stepped away from her the sea of cats closed in around her feet. The room was full of cats. On the floor. On the shelves. In the trees. Mariya could feel all eyes on her.

  “Man’s inhumanity to mankind,” he continued as he reached the cages which held the kittens.

  “Man’s inhumanity to animal kind,” he whispered to himself as he slowly began to open each cage.

  As the last cage opened, he reached in and pulled out a calico kitten. He drew it close to his chest and began petting it. The little one purred deeply.

  “I’ve changed.”

  “That much is clear,” Mariya nervously added.

  “You sent me away and I became a man.”

  Casanova snapped his fingers and several cats from the surrounding horde ran past Mariya and ran up the stairs.

  “Did you know what I was?”

  “I knew you were special,” she answered.

  “And still you let me go?”

  Casanova snapped his fingers again and cats begin jumping up to the open cages and started pulling out kittens by the scruffs of their necks.

  “You imprinted yourself on me.”

  Each cat jumped back down to the floor with a freed kitten in their mouth.

  “You chose to take my dead mother’s place. You chose to take responsibility for me.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “Then you sold me into slavery.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  “You betrayed me,” Casanova shouted.

  In the silence that followed the scream every cat in the room turned to face Mariya. From the dark corners she could hear a few hisses. In all the years that Mariya traded in cats she was never frightened by them. That was quickly changing.

  “You banished me to a distant forest and left me at the hands of my loveless jailers.”

  Casanova crossed the room and opened the door to the street. The ringing bell caught the attention of the horde. With their attention drawn to the door, Mariya thought about running. She could run back upstairs. Her cell phone was there. She could call for help. She could run towards the door and barrel her way past her newly arrived son. She thought of those things but she didn’t move. Mariya knew that if the horde of cats swarmed to her she would not survive the attack.

  Casanova made a clicking sound with his mouth. The cats carrying kittens paraded out the door and into the snowy night. He then turned to his mother.

  “I was starved, tortured, and emasculated.”

  Casanova kissed the kitten he was holding.

  “There will be no other like me again.”

  He knelt down and gave the kitten to the cat at his feet. With kitten in mouth, the cat exited as the others had. Casanova watched them go.

  “I’m destined to lead a lonely existence,” he said sadly. “One of your many gifts to me, Mother.”

  Casanova raised his head towards the ceiling and clicked with his mouth again. Mariya could hear padded paws moving about above her.

  “I’ve grown tired of the country, Mother.”

  All the cats Casanova had sent upstairs came running back down the stairs.

  “I now long for a life in the big city.”

  Casanova’s minions brought with them the rest of Mariya’s cats. The kittens lived in cages in the shop. The grown cats that hadn’t found homes all lived in cages on the third and fourth floors. The ones her son sent freed the ones she had caged. Dozens and dozens of cats all ran passed Mariya without even acknowledging her presence. They all went out the door as the falling snow began to rage.

  The bell rang once more as Casanova closed the door behind them. He locked the three locks and, after a moment of quiet contemplation, he turned his attention back to Mariya for one last time.

  “All I taste is the bitter, not the sweet.”

  Mariya remained silent as Casanova walked over to the large store front window. He first drew the curtain closest to him and the moonlight in the room began to fade.

  “This world I was born into is a cruel and horrible place and it shows no sign of changing.”

  Mariya could feel her time running out.

  “I’ve watched them,” he said with a glance to her. “Yes, there is love but there’s not enough.”

  He went to the other drape and slowly drew it closed.

  “The human heard must be culled,” he stated coldly as the last of the moonlight faded from the room, “or they will end it all”

  Mariya could hear her own heartbeat in the dark. She could hear her own breathing. Mariya could also hear a growl beginning to grow amongst the horde.

  “We exist to cull the heard, Mother,” she heard her son say though the darkness.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she pleaded quietly.

  She went to step forward towards her son, when her ankles were slashed.

  “You are culpable, Mother.”

  The cuts and the pain were deep.

  “You betrayed me.”

  She could feel her blood being spilled.

  “You rejected me and I suffered for it.”

  Mariya’s heart was racing. She had no place to go. She knew there was nothing she could do to avoid the inevitable. The raising growls around her told her that.

  “The time has come for atonement,” Casanova shouted above the din.

 
; Mariya Ouspenskaya died a grisly revenge driven death in her pet shop on that Christmas Eve morning. Her body would be found on Christmas day but not in any recognizable form. The shop bell had rung twice more before sunrise on the day she paid for her sins. Her son and his followers had come and gone. New York City was to be their home now and its ten thousand resident feral cats, along with the world at large, were about to be changed forever.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  “Life’s like a movie, write your own ending.

  Keep believing, keep pretending.”

  - Jim Henson

  Amazon bestselling author Edward Medina is a native New Yorker who was raised by his mother and grandmother to believe that life is an adventure best lived to the fullest. To that end he has lived his life on the edge of creative possibility.

  Over time, Edward has been a radio and voice over artist. He built a significant career as a producer, director and writer for both digital media and the New York Off and Off – Off Broadway stages. He also had the honor and the privilege to work for the late great Jim Henson. He then went on to become a theme park designer. For fun, he became a steam train engineer and has been since childhood, a sometime magician. Although, at this point in his life, the magic he creates is more for the page as an author of high fantasy, dark horror, and epic steampunk adventures.

  If you’d like more information on Edward’s books and stories, visit his website, follow him on Twitter, and like his page on Facebook.

  Edward Medina is proud to be a member of the Horror Writers Association and the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators.