Dr. Susan's Reign: Cat Johnson series (Cat Johnson Chronicles Book 1)

by Katerina Degratte

  Chapter 1

  Cat

  His tiger-like canine’s snarl at me as my throat is mere millimeters away from his fangs. All it would take is a second or few, then he’d snap my neck like it was simply composed of twigs. Like I was a haystack to toss around instead of an able-bodied human being. His menacing glare questioning. ‘Any last words?’

  The statement I had prepared for years was now running up dull. So many messages I had put into darker poems and crafts in order to grapple with my crippling depression had vanished. There was only anger.

  And who would take care of Maori if I were gone? My chunky tuxedo kitty.

  The battle didn’t start like this. At first, I had the upper grip, then my annoying, ringing consciousness looked into those adorable kitty eyes, ones that appeared tormented. My hesitance being my mistake as he proceeded to shred through my back. Making rough sex look like nothing compared to those red, bloodied lines.

  I predict that he went pretty easy on me or was yet reviewing his skills because he could have crushed me like a grape. Not that this was much better. I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d go like this, but at least it was by a cat mutation. Standing at twelve feet tall, eyes on the kill.

  There are so many worse ways to go.

  “Stop fantasizing about your death, and get your head back in the game, Cat!”

  I see my companion run over towards me, her paws barely brushing the ground as she rushes over. Emerald eyes determined. Something you wouldn’t foresee from this chunky-looking house cat.

  “Let her the fuck go!” A voice roars.

  Right, Maori. I had to make it through the night and not forsake my loved one. Not let the depression and defeat seep in.

  A scream courses through my lungs as I swivel from his clutch. My feet land on the tiled floor in a catlike manner, so I’m crouching down. One of the better means to land, pulling no important fragments.

  “I don’t want to harm you.” My eyes don't leave his.

  But the mutant’s attention is pulled away from me. My heart threatens to explode as I look at him taking a sniff at my cat—anything but her. I’d rip his spine out and use the bones to pick my teeth if he harmed one strand on her cute head.

  But it looked to be going smoothly? As Maori sniffs back at the tiger, they somehow interact in their cat ways. He glances back at me, but Maori strikes a paw across his face as if to suggest backing off.

  “Back off; that’s my human. If anybody kills her, it’s me.” her voice seethes, taking a moment to give me a dirty look for getting myself into this dilemma.

  Thanks... I think?

  He lets out an ear-splitting growl, but she holds her ground, unimpressed. Giving him another smack as if to tell him to stop, he whimpers and heels. Making him, even though he’s so much bigger than her, her bitch. An impression she was used to invoking on others.

  It wasn’t his fault that he was this way. One moment, he was an average house cat, having all the love and affection. Next, people were running in fear after the bone-bending experiments. He would dash towards someone only for them to shriek in dread at a 12-foot cat barreling towards them. He slashed through individuals like they were merely toy wooden blocks in his way. Like the world was his playground. A few suffered casualties from such endeavors.

  The doctor tested on animals, seeking to manipulate them as weapons at her call. A power-hungry beast. She disappeared once she caught on that I was once again on her trail. Dr. Susan. This is the evilest, yet she’s done. The hardest one to deal with. There have been bloodsucking bats, ankle-biting rats—too much inhumanity. She didn’t see animals as having any purpose other than for her own personal gain.

  Society stopped funding her research, so this was her backlash. Though, it didn’t serve well because Tiger wouldn’t listen to her. Showing there were knicks she’d likely impose more inhumanity to fix. And he was immensely hard-headed, too. This creature is like your common house cat, one not wishing to take orders. Just wanting to run around and do whatever the hell he wanted. But one big enough that you wouldn’t dare spray him with a stopper. Then she left him when he was no longer of benefit. The cat she had for a decade just tossed to the side like that.

  Explaining how I ended up here. The intention was to locate her, but I found her abandoned baby instead.

  I warned pet shops around the city and some online posts, hoping people wouldn’t adopt out to such a dangerous character. But it was one woman’s speech against a scientist. Who would you listen to? Probably not the raving lunatic, judging by the stares I received by seeking to bring in good.

  Tiger’s eyes grew sleepy. Tired of the implements of medication and miserable because his mommy left him. Left him to hopefully take me out, that is. She always loved to be one step ahead, which made her tough to trap. Hard to surprise, as well, if you were dating her. But that was centuries-old news from back when I dabbled in a few college courses five years ago. Back before she went completely off-her-rocker crazy.

  “I never want this to end.” Her light brown hair trails over her naked breasts, covering them in the most alluring way. We were snuggled in bed after a night of passionate lovemaking.

  She was a bit older than me by about ten years, but that didn’t kill the attraction. If anything, it only added to it. She was a science professor at Georgetown University. Knowing so much about the world that I had yet to discover after living my somewhat sheltered life growing up. And so many ideas for things I hadn’t even considered trying.

  “I love you.” I spoon her, resting my head in the crook of her neck.

  Clearly, it didn’t last forever.

  Maori rubs her body against his, as if to soothe. “It’s okay.” She mummers. “Not all humans are complete shit.” I could merely hope she wasn’t going to tell him he could come home with us. In a door, he wouldn’t fit through. And a food bill that would be sky high. I felt awful, but I didn’t request the FBI on my back for stowing a wanted fugitive. Though if they recognized the real him, they would understand he meant no harm.

  But most humans don’t ask questions first.

  His eyes flit back towards me. His crimson, blood-crazed eyes drifting back to their lovely green. The kitten I’ve snuggled with many points over the years while Susan and I were still friends. Still lovers. Before that withered away. His head slumped. He nearly knocked me over by brushing against me. Expressing his lament.

  “It’s okay, baby.” I scratch him behind the ear, keeping my ground... “I understand you didn’t mean to. Let’s get you someplace secure.” He purrs, and I sense he knows a place, as his head dips down so Maori and I can get atop. If the government wouldn’t be hunting the cat and me down for this, it would undoubtedly make a wonderful new profile pic for social media. Not that I did much on there other than sharing silly memes, most of the time. This being the substance of fantasy.

  He takes off quicker than the speed of light to this destination. As it must be a side effect from those shots. And were brought to a wooded abyss. A place he can cover to flee society. Avoid those who would seek to execute him. Along with Susan’s other creations, I chased down. Not the type of forested area you’d survive camping the night in. The yellow caution tape is more of a challenge than a threat, depending on your mentality.

  Maori and the oversized cat share another moment together. Before he takes off. Once he’s out of sight, Maori sighs at me. “I swear if I wasn’t around, you would have gotten yourself killed by now.” She gives me a pointed look.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Maori.” He
r smirk telling me she’s more than happy to oblige. Believe it or not, cats can smirk, the cute furry, lovable assholes. “I didn’t mean to. It just-” She cuts me off.

  “You felt awful because he had a kitty face, and then you practically got slaughtered in the process. Listen to HQ when they advise you not to get distracted.” My daughter’s voice goes all momma like on me. “Don’t be swayed. You had no trouble taking out the bats that you had to.”

  It kind of helped that I was petrified of bats as well, though.

  “Let’s go home.” She yawns sleepily. “Thanks to your trouble-making, I missed one of my cat naps.” Of course, that’s what was on her mind. She keeps her human from certain death, and it’s all like you ruined an opportunity to slumber.

  I could definitely use a drink and some sleep after those festivities, though. Not too many shots, as I still had an early shift at the shop. Why do I make myself work such early hours? To be fair, when I scheduled that, stopping a big kitty in midnight hours wasn’t on the agenda. And that stuff is supposed to be on the down-low. Not that anybody would believe me, they would just assume I lost a few extra screws.

  Not that I haven’t. One doesn’t get through this life unscathed.

  My partner in crime—well, more like good if you want to be technical. Helped me take down the corrupt individuals of the world.

  Wait, have I not introduced myself yet? So typical of socially awkward me. I don’t get out much. Sorry. I’m Cat Johnson. A twenty-five-year-old woman, taking on the world one day at a time. A by day game store manager, a by night doing this sort of stuff. Kind of like Spiderman, if you follow my reference. But instead of having spider-powers, I’m the very definition of clumsy. And without my glasses or contacts, I wouldn’t be able to see more than a blurred world. And I can’t shoot webs, so maybe I’m really nothing like him. I have some catlike abilities when they go right. Which has sheltered me from getting more than one broken bone. Getting the lower end of the stick with my need for naps. A day without one may as well not be a day with how nothing will get done. Maori saving my ass more times than I can count.

  I measure up to a 5’ 9’’, with a slender build. Cobalt blue hair that falls down to my shoulders, and sky-blue eyes to match. Thighs of steel that have me catching up to any bad guy, supposing I don’t topple on the way. And there’s about a 50/50 chance of that.

  I’m far from perfect. And can have a bit of a temper.

  “If you’re lucky, I’ll share the bed with you,” Maori comments as soon as we were out of the Lyft. Causing the driver to do a quick head swerve to look back before shaking his head. Muttering something about how he should head home for the night if he’s hearing things. I didn’t plan on taking a ride, but I didn’t exactly feel like taking a ten-mile jog at 2am. Crazy, right?

  Chapter 2

  Maori

  “Be better around the humans.” I can hear the reminder being bounced around my skull. Yes, can’t blow out their frail little brains by these semantics. They could believe in their higher power; some could speculate in the supernatural... but talking cats. That’s just way out of the question.

  The fellow thought he was hysterical because he could hear something, and his quick math couldn’t chalk it up to me talking. Animals have a lot to say; if you leave a listening ear, you can actually hear them. But so many humans don’t take notice. Like earlier, Cat wouldn’t listen when I advised her not to proceed out on her own and stick around until my nap was over. Some good that did. If I showed up any later, I would have had to find a new human to feed me and clean up my shit. And as aggravating as she could be, I appreciated the little arrangement we had.

  Cat gives me a warning look, as if not to say much else.

  “If you’re lucky, I won’t drop you on the way back.” She mouths to me.

  “Bitch.” I growl, getting a side-eye stare. She couldn’t say shit like that and expect no response. Who did she think I was? One of those eager to please puppers?

  “Ma’am, can I ask why you don’t have a carrier or leash for your cat? She doesn’t even seem to have a collar. Aren’t you worried she’ll run off?” I roll my eyes from where I’m lying, recognizing full well he can’t see it. Cat knows perfectly well that the chances of getting me into any of those contraptions are absurd as hell. If she tried to put me in them, it would have made time with the 12ft cat look like playtime in comparison. And in case the fact was lost on ya, he shredded through her back.

  “She wouldn’t run off.” My human defends.

  “But if a rabid dog runs after her.” Ha, funny.

  “Then that dog would regret trying to go after her like she’s some toy.” The words are crisp and to the point. The driver probably assumed she’d go dog killer, but she and I both know she’s talking about me. Sure, I may look like your big-boned house cat, but appearances could be deluding. I could take care of my own.

  The man doesn’t say much more after that, having enough common knowledge to see it wasn’t getting any leeway. “Don’t fret; she won’t piss in your car.” Cat comments, making it so much tempting to do that now that it’s mentioned. Or to heave up a nasty-looking furball. I knew better, though, and that was money that could be spent on better things with the up-charge it would cost. Like cat treats or Cat going on some date, so I could have more alone time in the apartment. Not that it would ever happen. She’s not ugly by any means, but the love history I’ve witnessed of hers tells me she has the worst of taste. Sells herself short far too much.

  It’d be nice if she had someone else to hold, though, as those intermittent hugs could be infuriating at times. Once in a while, sure, but she makes it seem like she’s starved for affection.

  “Have a good evening, sir.” She waves as she leaves. His eyes lingering a second longer than they should. I plop out behind her to help her with unlocking the door—much to her ungratefulness.

  “Can you wait just a second?” She fuses, the key missing the slot as she nearly stumbles over. Again. Cat. How the hell did she end up with that name when she could hardly walk without slipping?

  “Can you unlock the door at some point today, human?”

  “It would go quicker if you would stop trying to kill me in the process.” Well, forgive me, I have a much-needed sleep to catch up on that she disturbed.

  It’s a relief as it ultimately opens, and I can go back to stretch out in our soft bed. Not even two minutes into it, I hear sobbing from the bathroom, peeking my head up; Cat is accessing tonight’s damage. The back of the pullover was split to shreds, along with the left sleeve. A pristine white turned crimson, making her look like she belongs in some vampire film. Her lips hissing as she surveys the fierce red claw marks on her back.

  Her head falls as she grips onto the side of the sink. The adrenaline from the night must be wearing thin. Hearing a broach of a blubbering mess about to be launched, I realize I should help her. The night would pass by more quickly if I did. And you can’t tell anybody else I said this, but I had a soft spot for that human. She helped me when I was in need.

  I’ve been with Cat for five years now. Growing up as the runt of the litter, I wasn’t at my strongest then. Still was an inquisitive kitten who saw the need to delve into the world. But my feeble body infested in fleas as they bounced all around. Getting many terrible stings. She helped me heal, and we decided on the name Maori. It means a powerful warrior and felt fitting after that ordeal. My technical full name is Maori Lucky Salvatore. Still, Cat only calls me that if I piss her off because she’s ungrateful and doesn’t appreciate my redecorating or cleaning aid.

  “Maori?” Her bloodshot eyes dart up at me when I hop on the counter. Her voice is unsteady. “Did you come up here to help?”

  “Turn around, Cat,” I murmur, watching her do as I say. Allowing me to take care of her. My mouth has healing saliva as my sandpaper tongue spreads all over those cuts. The worst of the damage healed itself up. Now it looked like she got into a rough night of sex or rounded off a litter
of kittens instead. If it were a scatter of kittens, there would have been no saving her. She would have been a lost cause because I wouldn’t be caught dead around a herd of those. There was no reasoning with those buggers.

  My human had to be more careful. Cuts going inches deep before my healing. Worrying me, not that I would repeat that to her. That nasty looking tiger guy pulled out several hefty chunks. Yet she always insists she’s wonderful with cats. Every so often, coming home smelling like another one of those other fuckers. Or even several, the cat whore. Evidently not good with a drug-crazed one. Not that I predict he was seeking to hurt her since she survived as long as she did. He was still a rookie, mind clouded with whatever the scientist gave him.

  I somewhat wonder what it would be like to be that size. Sure has some power. Gives off a particular air that others have to listen to. But I’m not insecure about the size I am now—a big-boned house cat who can get treated or loving with a simple look or nudge. So many humans are so simple-minded to the vision of cats. There had to be some reason Egyptians worshipped us. We are the closest things to being around the presence of a god that you can find.

  “Now, get in the shower, so you don’t get bloodstains on the bed.” I nod at her. She would never forgive herself if she ruined those new sheets. She just got them the other week. Her crying has died down a bit after I gave her what she needed. “I’ll keep your spot on the bed warm.”

  “Thanks, Maori.” She offers me a pat on the head, tearing off her clothes before washing away the remnants of tonight off her skin. Sneezing while doing so because she had a minor cat allergy. Not bad enough to not be around cats, though I suspect she would continue being around them even if it killed her.

  I’ve been by her side on many occasions. Break-ups, surgery, family marriages. She was pressed two years back ago that this one asshole was utterly faithful to her, after some snooping that was proved wrong. I felt awful shattering her heart with the news, but Cat was a good person. Sure, albeit annoying, but good. She didn’t deserve to be treated like rubbish. Afterward, she wouldn’t leave the house for days at a time, merely leaving when she had to go to work. Now it’s hard to get her to even consider the first date with anyone.