Natasha

Natasha
    By
    Raman Jalota

    I couldn't scream anymore. The black cat raised her left paw and like lightening slashed it across my neck; breaking the skin and spouting tiny fountains of blood. There were two lines of red lightening across my neck where her unsheathed claws had found their mark. Before I could recover from the surprise and taste the pain, the sweat-soaked sheets brought me back to reality.
    So this is just another nightmare! I breathed slowly, and strained hard to try to focus my eyes, barely recognizing the bedroom in the darkness. I turned to look at the clock and realized that Samantha was not in the bed. It was two-o-five and there were no lights on in the house. Then I heard a soft sigh and a licking sound, ... or was that the water running down the drain? Samantha is in the bathroom. ... Did I wake her up with my screams? ... Did I actually scream? ... Was it real? ... Doesn't she need a light to see in the dark? ... What was happening to me?
    I waited for Samantha to crawl back into the bed. I wanted to hold her reassuring warm body and sleep without those dreams. The dreams of Natasha, the black cat. .... .... The black cat was back. I was annoyed. Why can't I dream of something else? But I couldn't think her out of my dream. Her deep blue eyes were hauntingly beautiful and mesmerized I stared at those blue slits. She purred and walked gently towards me. Her pink tongue darted in and out as she kissed my face repeatedly. “Nice pussy cat” I whispered.
    Samantha pushed herself against my body and I felt her hard muscles and bones behind the softness of her body. I put my hands on her hips and held her. We rocked for a while till we were fully awake. It was nice and magical and I wanted the moment to linger on forever. She kissed me and moved away. I opened my eyes to see Natasha's eyes in Samantha's face. I shook my head to clear my vision. ... What's happening to me!
    I poured my cup of coffee, hurrying as usual to avoid the rush and always ending up in the middle of it. Samantha was pouring milk on her cereal. Did she even have any cereal in her bowl? I hardly noticed any. As I was tying my tie, I noticed her eat two spoons of her cereal, discard her spoon and raise her bowl to her lips drinking it like some Chinese peasant drinking his soup. Running out I kissed her; her tongue felt thick and coarse against my lips. ... Was her tongue changing shape and surface or was my imagination clicking into gear? I rushed out and stopped to pick up the newspaper. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Samantha bent over the cereal bowl, sitting on the table, lapping the milk, her pink tongue darting in and out of her mouth.

.....

    The hospital was extremely crowded today. Robin the receptionist winked, “Good morning Dr. Gilmore. I think it must be full moon or something!”
    I could hardly concentrate on anything and more coffee didn't help. I gave up re-reading the research data and trying to understand what we had established. The study of the increased small intestinal length of the common cat and its relationship to the absorption of amino acids from a diet with decreasing protein content; what were we trying to prove and why, and who really cared? It made for great personal achievements, as our names would be linked to the papers that we kept publishing, and the grants that the University hospital kept attracting from all kind of sources. It was easy to rationalize our research projects and people gave money to research without understanding what they were really fostering.
    I was thankful that I had finally reached the seniority to not have to make the hospital rounds checking on patients, I could pretty much do as I pleased and today I decided to go home early and relax. The lobby was still crowded; the patients from the emergency ward and their relatives had spilled over to the main lobby and their impatience was apparent as they stared at me as if accusing me of causing delays in their treatments.
    Walking to the staff parking lot, I noticed the animal delivery truck bringing more cats for the research lab. Even the animal providers were making money, raising their rates as our research demanded a steady supply. This business was good for us all! Except for the cats, of course. The tinge of affection I used to feel when I first started in the research lab had long disappeared. It had become mechanical and boring, with never a thought about the cats as living beings. They were just like the chemicals. To be used and discarded.

.....

    Samantha was sitting on the deck painting her nails. It was too hot for me but she enjoyed sitting in the sun even in late May. I did not remember her doing it last year, but then; we had just met and she may not have allowed herself to be herself then. I kissed her lightly; she raised her left hand drying it, and looked at me with half closed eyes, her nails glossy with a maroon shade of polish, her lips painted dark, her dark eyes acquiring a greenish tinge from the grass.
    I stood stroking her shoulder length luxurious black hair and felt an overwhelming need to make wild passionate love. She smiled wickedly, her dark eyes twinkling, understanding my needs; “She must have smelt it” I thought.
    “Let's do it right here, there is no one around.”
She took off her top offering her breasts to me. I felt an excitement I hadn't felt before; her hot body rubbing against mine felt rough and sent shivers of passion up and down my spine. Her tongue licked my face as I was overwhelmed by the new sensation of her skin and tongue ... she felt coarser, rougher, harder than usual. She was panting with passion as I exploded too soon. She laid her head on my chest, panting steadily for a long time. Her body was unusually hot. My mind was playing tricks with me again ... cats normal body temperature was around 101 degrees ... and cats panted to cool themselves off ... like Samantha ... or like Natasha, my dream cat!
    I went indoors to the coolness of the living room and napped on the sofa. Natasha was back in my dreams. She smiled as if she was reading my mind. Her face slowly melted and was replaced by Samantha's. The two were not much different. Samantha had dark hair, dark eyes, a small nose and thin lips that she often painted dark; Natasha was black skinned with short hair, deep blue eyes, and yes the small pink tongue that darted in and out of her mouth just like Samantha's. Even in my dream, I knew this was extraordinary and meant something. Natasha smiled again, raised her left paw again, I turned my head away knowing the next move that was to come. I heard her paw miss my neck by inches. I got up, screaming. Natasha jumped. Her claws dug into my back and she hung onto my back as I fell to the floor terrorized with fear.
    The shower stung. I could make out reddish black marks on my back in the mirror. There were two sets of claw marks starting just below my shoulders and going down my back for about six inches with gashes at the beginning and the end. ... What had happened? ... Was the dream real? The pain was. I dried my back softly, dressed slowly looking at my eyes in the mirror. There seemed to be a dullness settling in. I felt tired.

.....

    Dr. Brosh looked at my back, “Looks like you had wild sex last night. I will put some iodine on it. There doesn't seem to be anything to worry about.”
    “What do you mean ... what caused it?”
    “Are you kidding me? These look like a woman's nails. Looks like she dug deep and scratched you up.” He looked at me slightly puzzled.
    “I didn't really feel anything, I felt a pain while showering this morning and wondered what had happened.” I felt uncomfortable and unsure,”You are sure it's not from a cat's claws.
He laughed and shook his head.
    “Turn around,” he said slowly and reexamined my back, he scanned my chest looking for bruises and nodded reassuringly. “There doesn't seem to be anything except those nail marks on your back. Did a cat attack you in the lab?”
    I shook my head. The iodine helped but not enough. There was a bigger problem than just the scratches on my back. I was feeling a loss of reality. I could not rationalize the breaking up of the thin line between fantasy and real life, between dreams and logic, between horror and life; and between Natasha and Samantha.

.....

    The week off in Hawaii was a great idea. When Samantha suggested we go there and my boss Dr. Moody agreed, there was nothing to stop us.
    Samantha looked stunning with her new haircut, her navy blue top and black skirt. “I am going to beat you to the beach, Gary;” she said as she walked out of our hotel, leaving me still a little hungover from last night's drinking, dancing and lovemaking.
    I was almost an hour late. I walked out the front door and onto the sidewalk which soon turned into sand with the deep blue ocean welcoming me. The breeze smelled wonderful and I walked out of my shoes, feeling the warm sand wriggle through my toes. Samantha was nowhere in sight. I looked around for her and walked into the nice warm water still scanning for her among the waves. She was not in the sea.
    I swam back to the beach and looked around, searching for Samantha. I was getting a little apprehensive, imagining some catastrophe. I walked towards the little mound of dirt to the far right by the palm trees. As I approached the sparingly grass covered mound and started climbing over it I saw a swarm of cats on the other side. There must have been thirty or forty of them. There were cats of all colors and sizes but predominantly black cats. They were all moving in some strange rhythm, in a circular pattern around one another and at the center of the cats was the unmoving body of Samantha. I rushed towards her, the cats parting grudgingly to let me in. As I approached, Samantha moved slowly as if in a trance; she sat up and with her head bowed and hands stretched as if in an ancient prayer, she said something in a strange language, seeing me she stood up smiling. I could do nothing but stare at her, paralyzed.
    “Aren't they wonderful?” She picked a black cat up in her arms, stroking her gently. “I wonder where they all came from, they seem so friendly.” she smiled at me, her eyes flashing a blue light. She calmly walked into the ocean with her little friend in her arms. I stood there for a long time, not sure of what I had seen, heard or felt.

.....

    That was the end of my vacation and the end of my recovery. The incident with the cats left me completely drained and defeated. I retreated to the hotel room and with a bottle of Black Label, tried to sort out what was happening.
    Natasha ... who was Natasha? The name had fitted her so well, like her deep blue, cold, murderous eyes fitted her. I knew her to be Natasha. She was dangerous, she was beautiful, she was Natasha. She had slowly taken control of my dreams and now perhaps my reality too.
    And what about Samantha ... who was Samantha? She had come into my life suddenly; and mesmerized me with her beauty, wit and charm, and like a mouse in a cat's paws, I was helpless; I could do nothing but love her. I didn't know much about the student from Salem, Oregon; except she was seven years younger than me, had aging parents, and loved me. It didn't take me long to marry her, two months of dating and I couldn't part with her. She had an unshakable hold on me. She too had slowly but surely taken control of me and my life. And now the two were joining forces for some unknown, unfathomable dark reason; bent upon the destruction of my sanity ... no not just my sanity but my life. I drifted into sleep on the sofa. Natasha greeted me with a purr and a smile.
    I was too weak or too drunk to fight. I lay there fascinated, watching her. Natasha raised her left paw and slashed my neck; breaking the skin and spilling bright red streaks of blood. She looked into my eyes, her deep blue eyes were so warm and inviting. She lifted her left paw, red with blood, her pink tongue darted in and out of her mouth licking the blood on her paw, turning her lips red. She slashed again and opened a gaping hole in my throat, she bent over to feed; all the time purring affectionately.
    The redness from my eyes disappeared slowly. It was still dark and there was Samantha's head in my lap. She was murmuring in her sleep. I put my hand on her head gently stroking her short hair and what seemed to be her large pointed ears, made larger by the short haircut. In the dark of the morning she seemed to be black, even as I focused harder, her dark tan made her look black.
    She opened her eyes and smiled. There was a coolness in her smile. Her eyes were blue slits. I shivered feeling her body tensing with rippling movements. She sat up and yawned, stretching her hands and arching her dark body. She brought her left hand back to her mouth and licked it, smiling at me invitingly. I tried to move away from her. She unsheathed her claws, her left hand moved like lightning slashing my throat.     Her right hand came crashing behind the left opening a hole in my throat. I could not even scream. She took a bite. I opened my eyes to see her face drawing near, her whiskers dripping blood, her lips drawn back exposing the large fangs in the back and the sharp front teeth, ready for a full bite.
    The last thing I saw was her eyes red with fire. The last sound I heard was the crunch of teeth on my neck. And then mercifully, it was black.

The End    2503 words

Copyright © 2004 Raman Jalota. All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

Raman Jalota's Stories