Ella J. Smyth
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Macha’s Story
Copyright © 2020 by Ella J. Smyth
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Ella J. Smyth asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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Contents
Macha’s Story
Macha’s Story
The surface under my cheek felt rough and cold. I kept my eyes closed against the glare of the sun burning through my eyelids. My whole body lay on its side, pressed down by ache and fatigue.
What had happened last night? Had I gotten drunk and passed out? Slowly, disjointed images wavered through my sluggish mind.
A woman, tall and foreign-looking, with pale skin and long black hair. Her pinning me with a withering stare. Another image popped up. A white flare, like you might see from a boat in distress. A bang loud enough for my hands to reflexively fly up to cover my ears. Then nothing.
Great. I still had no idea what had happened, never mind where I was.
You won’t either if you don’t open your eyes, you fool.
A superhuman effort later, I stared at a puddle of brackish water next to my face. Then the smell reached my nostrils. Rotting garbage, piss, stale booze, with a side-order of puke. I swallowed hard against the urge to add to the mess.
Tightening my body, I meant to roll to my front. That’s when things went weird. I stopped in utter shock.
What the fuck? What the everlasting f...
A sound I didn’t recognize burst from my chest. Something like a wheeze, unlike anything a person would produce. Which kind of made sense because what I was staring at in growing horror were my hands. Or rather paws. Cat’s paws, complete with fuzzy orange fur.
What? No. What? No fucking way. WHAT?
I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut to stop my mind from melting into a never-ending circle of questions and denial.
Alright then. I’m a cat. No, I’m not. I can’t be. This doesn’t happen to people.
Quickly I corrected himself. This didn’t used to happen to people, not until the magical reactor blew up and contaminated the world with a fallout of gene-altering particles.
One year later, there were still effects that hadn’t been discovered or explored by the governmental cleanup crews. It was bad enough ordinary people hadn’t even known that there were humans endowed with magical powers.
But after the explosion, weird shit kept happening, and suddenly normal folks had manifested with powers they had no clue how to control. But people being changed into animals? That hadn’t been in the news.
I opened my eyes and stared at my paws. Slowly, I turned my head and checked the rest of my body. Yep. Orange fur covered my ass from head to toe. At the very back, a tail, tipped with white and black, swung angrily from side to side. Time for another freak-out.
Nononononononono...
I allowed myself to spiral into despair and disbelief for a few seconds, while my body did what it wanted to do. My back lengthened and my hind and front paws stretched into opposite directions.
Oh god, this feels good. Better than it ever felt.
My whiskers quivered with delight as I allowed the relaxing feeling to flow through me. At the very end of the stretch, my claws popped out.
Ohhhhhhh, bliss.
A dog barked nearby. And just like that, I was at high alert. I could figure out how to turn back later. Now I had to get to safety. Thankfully, the sound moved on past the entrance of the alleyway I’d found myself in.
Gingerly, I got to my feet. And then I nearly fell over again, because I couldn’t remember my name. But surely I must have a name. I remembered the house I lived in, my parents, my little sister. Everything before I met the tall woman was clear as day.
Yet no matter how much I strained my memory, my name didn’t pop up. An icy premonition made me catch my breath. What if my smaller animal brain couldn’t hold on to my humanity? How long would it be until I lost other memories? Until I was nothing but an ordinary cat?
I needed to figure this out, sooner rather than later. But first, I had to get out of this alley. Moving my paws quickly, I strained towards the exit. Only to fall flat on my face.
Again, what the fuck?
Apparently, walking with four legs was a little more difficult than with two. And my feline body was too new to having developed much of a muscle memory. Wariness of dogs, yes. Knowing how to walk, apparently a hard no.
Come on, you’re smart. You’ll figure this out. Right front foot first, left front foot next.
Now my body was stretched to its limit, and the back legs hadn’t moved yet. Try again. I shuffled the front portion of my body back.
Right front foot first. Right back foot next.
Both feet moved forward, unbalancing me so that I tipped over on to my side.
Oh, for fuck sake. This can’t be that hard. I’m human, even if I’m stuck for the moment.
Grumbling, I got up again.
Right front foot first. Then the left back foot. Left front foot. Right back foot.
I was a long way away from moving as gracefully as a real cat, but I was doing it. Right front, back left, front left, back right. And again.
Step by awkward step, I moved out of the alley onto a larger road. There were people walking past me, barely giving me a glance.
I stopped and stared upwards. The view was completely different from down here. I could barely see people’s faces, only their feet, legs, and lower bodies. Anything higher up strained my neck.
There seemed to be something wrong with my eyes. Close up, my vision was sharp. But within a few feet, things turned blurry. By the next block of houses, it was all a mist.
And the colors were off, too. Blues and greens were fine, but reds and pink seemed washed out. In fact, all the colors weren’t as full or saturated as when I was a human.
Weird. So this is how cats see.
Shrugging internally, I moved my feet to get out. But once again, I’d forgotten I had four legs. Before I’d gotten myself under control, I tripped over my tail and fell against a man’s legs.
“Oh, gross.”
A black brogue kicked me sharply in the ribs. To be fair, had I been a real cat, I would have avoided the blow easily. But as a dude newly stuck in a foreign body, I didn’t have a chance. The impact flung m against the wall of a building. It hurt. The man barely gave me another look as he rushed on.
I lay there for a moment before getting up. My head hurt, but no worse than before. I quickly checked my extremities. Nothing broken, although my hindquarters ached like a big bruise, and my ribs were twinging where the asshole’s foot had connected.
My head bent down further than my human neck ever could. Instinct took over once again, and I stuck out my tongue and ran it along the aching parts. I shivered.
Oh wow, this feels good.
There was a texture to my tongue that flattened the hairs just so. The pressure and coolness of the touch soothed not just my external injuries but brought a serenity I found incredibly calming. When I was done cleaning my chest and the bruises on my butt, I felt so much better.
Right, let’s try aga
in. Right foot forward, left back foot, front left foot, right back foot.
It was still hard going, but after a few hundred yards, I finally had the hang of it. One thing was for sure—my feline mind found it far easier to focus on one task at a time. As a human, I was used to a hundred synapses firing at the same time. As a cat, I concentrated on walking forward without falling over. Easy.
When I reached the next crossing, I finally knew where I was. My house wasn’t far from here. First I’d find my parents. They’d help. They always did. All I had to do was get to them.
* * *
My cat body was slinky enough to fit through the bars on my front gate. All I had to do now was get into the house and see my mom. At the last moment I remembered the family dog.
Oh shit. Bouncer was a great dog. He’d been with the family as long as I could remember. A rescue dog, Bouncer was as aggressive towards outsiders as he was loving to his family. His instincts were to chase every cat, even though he never actually hurt them.
My heart beat like crazy just thinking of the dog hunting me. Maybe today was the day Bouncer decided to bite down hard. The last thing I needed was an injury from his sharp pit bull teeth.
A ten-foot fence shielded the backyard from prying eyes. But the back door to the house would be open this time of year. Crouching below the obstacle, I made a plan.
I’d watched the neighbor’s cat clear the fence with one jump all the time. I stared at the top of the fence post where the cat had perched only the other day.
Here we go.
Tightening my hind muscles, I pushed off and up.
Wooo!
My body flew through the air, defying gravity. Stretching my front paws, claws extended, I got close enough to grab on to the top of the wooden structure.
And then, just at the zenith of the curve, my body slowed, stopped, and descended, half an inch from the wooden wall in front of my paws. Frantically, my claws scrambled to gain purchase, but it was no use. As if in slow motion, my four legs spread wide, I slid downwards until my butt hit the concrete painfully.
“Shit,” I tried to say. What came out of my mouth was an ill-tempered growl. My back hurt from the impact. So did my legs and my side.
For the next few minutes, I pressed myself against the gate, curled into a ball, feeling extremely sorry for myself. Could it get any worse? I squeezed my eyes shut. Of course it could.
Heavy footsteps approached the other side of the fence, followed by the excited yapping of Bouncer. I pressed myself tighter against the wooden barrier, feeling dread crawl up my neck like a strangler’s grip.
My dog was easily big enough to kill a cat, not that he’d ever done it before as far as I knew. But my human reasoning was finding it hard to overcome the instinctive fear that reached into my marrow. I knew—knew—that the dog could break my neck as easily as I, in my human form, would crack the wishbone of a roast chicken.
The barking increased in volume before the door swung open, and an overexcited pit bull came barreling through.
“Hold up, Bouncer. Can you smell Macha?”
Macha. That was my name. Thank god, at least something I remembered from before I got turned into a fucking cat. Macha. Having a name again made me feel better somehow.
A cold, wet nose pushed against my face. I recoiled, my feline instincts taking over.
“Move back. Bad dog,” I tried to say. Instead of words, I opened my mouth and hissed.
“What have you got there, Bouncer?”
My father’s deep voice sounded so close by, I coiled myself even tighter, fighting the urge to escape, attack, anything but be helpless in front of the giant man and the massive dog.
The cold nose was back, a tongue licking me squarely across the face. What the fuck? Without losing a second, my paw flew out and smacked the dog across the nose. At least my claws had stayed in otherwise Bouncer might have been hurt.
Instead, the dog pulled back in confusion. What a strange situation. My father obviously didn’t recognize me, but Bouncer smelled his owner’s scent on the cat in front of him.
I was losing the battle between my human need to stay close to the familiar and the cat’s instinct to flee. When my dad had finally enough of the odd standoff between the strange animal and the family dog, he shooed me.
“Git, cat. You don’t belong here. Come on, get away. Go home.”
That’s all I needed. My body recoiled, then slunk away at high speed, past my dad’s legs. Apparently, if I let my new body take over, it operated far more smoothly.
Once I reached some bushes at the other side of the residential road, I stopped. Dropping under the concealing foliage, I reassessed my situation.
There was no way my parents recognized me like that. Maybe Bouncer had, but he couldn’t speak. There really was no point in staying here. My best bet would be to find the woman who’d done this to me and beg her to turn me back.
Once the coast was clear, I made my way to the alley where I’d woken up. As a cat, I didn’t have a canine’s amazing nose. Nor could I see particularly well. But I was slinky if I put my mind to it, and fast and vicious if the situation required. And I still had my human mind. There was no reason why I shouldn’t be able to figure this out.
My jaws opened without my input. The yawn nearly floored me. Before I tracked down the woman, maybe I needed to figure out how to keep this body alive. Somewhere I’d read cats slept up to eighteen hours a day. And I’d been awake for most of the six hours cats were active.
Time for a cat nap. Don’t judge me for the pun.
Half asleep already, I tumbled on to a townhouse’s front step. The sun had had hours to heat the stone. Stretching luxuriously, I wallowed in the warmth before falling asleep.
When I woke up, it was dark. I remembered dozing rather than being in a deep sleep. But apparently my cat’s mind had assessed any threats, judged them to be harmless, and never bothered to wake me fully. I felt well-rested and rearing to go.
A loud growl coming from my stomach told me I needed food. Right now. It grumbled and rumbled at every step as I stalked towards the alley.
So what did cats eat? I fed my dog food from a can or a pouch. He certainly seemed to enjoy it, although he wasn’t keen on dry dog food. And mom fed him scraps from the table when she didn’t think dad was looking.
But where would I find canned food? And even if I found some, would I be able to stomach it? The thought of cold, congealed meat pieces or dry, smelly cat food made my stomach heave while at the same time filling my mouth with saliva.
But weren’t cats hunters? They went after small mammals like mice and voles. Ugh. Did I even have the skill to chase down a tiny, agile mouse when I barely managed to coordinate my legs?
My stomach cramped, reminding me my body didn’t care if I didn’t like eating cat food. It needed sustenance, and fast. Maybe I should just allow nature to take its course?
Crawling on my belly along the street’s houses, I practiced slinking. It didn’t take long to get quite good at it. And even better, my eyes worked great in the dark. As a human, I’d barely have been able to make out the outlines of others walking past me.
As a cat, I saw their faces and expressions. It was like using night goggles without the green light. Nice trade-off for my crap vision during the day.
Very soon, I’d reached a gap between two houses at the end of the road. I remembered the space. It wasn’t huge, barely the width of a terraced house, but as a cat, it seemed enormous. The weeds were higher than my head, and as I crouched down at the edge of the jungle, the rustling and whispering of grasses called to me. Right ahead of me, something scurried through the undergrowth.
I crouched, wound as tightly as a rubber band, aimed, and pounced. Before I lifted my paw to look at my intended victim, I knew I’d missed. A mouse sat some distance away and seemed to smirk at me. Again I tightened the muscles in my hind legs and jumped. Missed again. And again. And again. No matter how hard I tried, the vermin was quicker and more
agile.
I thought this is my natural prey.
Hangry didn’t describe the way I felt. My shoulders tight with frustration, I sat on my haunches and thought.
This should come naturally to me, shouldn’t it. But then I didn’t grow up as a cat. So what. I’m a human. That means I’m smarter than some dumb mouse. I can figure this out.
I thought of a simple plan. If I could only stay perfectly still, not move a whisker, I might be able to fool one of the critters. I laid down, tucked my paws under my furry body, closed my eyes, and waited. I might even have nodded off for a moment, because obviously, nodding came far more naturally than hunting.
When I opened my eyes again, the moon had climbed much higher. Without my cell phone or a watch, I had no way of marking the passage of time, but I guessed at least a few hours had passed.
A loud rustle sounded from my left. I slowly turned my head, intent on not giving away my location. There was something very close to me. I couldn’t make it out, but it was bulky, like a very fat mouse. I would have swallowed hard, had my body been able to. As it was, I coiled tighter, knowing that this was my best chance to finally get something between my teeth.
When the creature rustled again, I pounced. The moment my claws and teeth connected with my prey, I froze. Shit, that thing was a lot larger than I’d anticipated. Yeah, not a mouse. Instead, a rat glared at me with furious, small eyes as it fought back.
It twisted in my grip until it was free. My claws had barely done any damage. While I tried to gain control of the situation, the rat slipped behind me and dug its teeth into my hind legs.
I yowled. Shit, that hurt. No matter how much I tried to shake the rat, the beast kept attacking, taking chunks out of me. The pain was excruciating.
In my panic, I somehow managed to rake the rat across the nose. It distracted the vermin, and I finally got away. Running as if the rat was still biting me, I crossed the grassy lot and didn’t stop until I’d reached the far side.
When I stopped, I collapsed in the shelter of a dumpster. My breath wheezed in and out in short, pained gasps. My ear was on fire, and the top of my back legs was numb. When my heart slowed down, I rolled to my side and started the disgusting process of cleaning up.
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