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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2217742
Superstitions can run both ways.
The vivid orange harvest moon shone brightly over the tops of the canopy of tall pine trees that densely populated the gently rolling hills just out of the slumbering village. Cloaked in the shadows of the quickly approaching Witching hour, they stealthily made their way to the very small clearing just past the ancient oak that was home to Ameilia the annoying wood owl. Many were the felines who met their demise foolish enough to try and devour one so wise.

One by one, the number of orange, yellow and green glowing eyes blinking in the moonlight grew as the members congregated in reflective silence. Suddenly, a shiver of electrical like current filled the air, and the clearing erupted in euphoric purring. As all members welcomed their leader.

A massive, powerfully built, ink-black panther slowly, easily made his way to the center of the assembled congregation of pure black felines. It was time for the great Accountability and there was a distinct change in the mood as he pulled out the Cat's Book of Life. It was a thin volume, despite the massive amount of data it held, for such was sometimes the way with things bewitched by Magic.

"Each member here tonight is on their last life. Those of you who hit your mark will be gifted another rebirth and your nine lives will begin again. Those of you who have not met your quota will not be returning to this realm of the universe. You will be teleported back to the times of our beginning and forever live within the Temples of Ancient Egypt built just for us.

Every pure black cat, at kittenhood, was taught the rules that only THEY, the chosen ones must follow. For every black kitten is taught early on how to cast its spell. How to properly arch it's back, stick its tail straight in the air, and how to give a proper hiss. Cats and kittens of all other colors spoke of the rules as nothing more than a superstition, nothing more than some ridiculous mumbo jumbo made up by the least popular felines, the black ones.

One by one, each cat was called. "How many human paths did you cross this year and make the human freak out?" Everyone knew, you just didn't cross the human's path, but it was vital to impart fear into them. The higher level of fear, the higher mark they would be awarded for that path cross.

The next time black cat skitters across your path, stop and think. Was it for your bad luck or his good luck?

*Word Count 433*

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