This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/K1DR on 2024-04-08 20:33:17.
She was one in a litter of twelve, so cute and perfect. At least she was to me. According to the breeder, she was the ‘runt’ of the litter, and didn’t get along with the other cats. All the other customers stayed away from her. Opting for the traditionally pretty kittens, at least that’s what I thought initially, but perhaps they could see something in her gorgeous little eyes that I couldn’t.When people came to visit, they’d always say; they don’t know what it is, but there is something ‘off’ about the way Lilly looked. Lilly is what I called her, Gentle and Elegant, and lilies always hold a special place in my heart.
It was love at first sight for me and Lilly. When I saw her the first time it was like I’d entered a trance, how cute she was, a playful little fluff ball rolling around, no bigger than a can of coke. and without fear or hesitation Lilly came and snuggled with me, despite me being a stranger in the breeders home.
I took her home, fed her well and played with her as anyone would, and for a couple of months she was the perfect kitten. But one day she welcomed me home with a little present. With a big look of pride upon her face she had a bird's egg at her feet. I assume it was a pigeon’s egg of sorts. I should have told her off immediately to prevent anything further from happening, but I understood it was meant as a gift and I couldn’t be mad at such a cute teeny face. I couldn’t help myself but give her a pet and some treats.
No longer than a week had passed before I had another egg gifted to me. I threw it away and tried to pay little attention to it. But another one soon showed up, and another, and another after that.
At this point I had to tell her off, these eggs are unhygienic and not all of them were intact. As kind as these gestures were, I didn’t appreciate having various stages of bird foetus on my bed sheets.
If only this was the worst of it.
Lilly must have misunderstood me telling her off, and read the loud unfriendly noises as ‘Lilly this is not good enough’. because soon enough, as I came home later that week, I was greeted by a horror scene of blood and viscera, splattered up the skirting and trailing deeper into my home. Positioned neatly in the center of my bedroom, as if to be sure I’d see it was a dead bird.
Again I should have immediately told her off, but honestly I was impressed, Lilly was still a teeny tiny kitten and the bird she brought in was no ordinary bird, it was a full sized adult raven, much larger than herself. I initially thought this bird must have already been dead, that she’d just scavenged it, but the fresh blood and the clear signs of a struggle disproved this theory instantly. All I could say was “wow” I cleared up the mess and threw the bird in the bin. I wasn’t angry or disgusted, mostly I was impressed. I should’ve been angry though, I should’ve shown stern disapproval.
Still, if only birds were the worst of it.
Later on Lilly brought more birds, ranging from young pigeons to large adult birds such as a parakeet and the occasional seagull. A fully sized seagull taken down by a kitten. And not only once.
I should have known it then, I should have put a stop to it then.
After all I had seen it, what other people noticed but couldn’t tell.
But, I must confess, I loved her for it. Such a brave and strong cat, all of this as a gift for me? To show her love for me. I was honored, even humbled by it.
By the time Lilly was 7 months old she was bringing home something new multiple times a week. Squirrels, rats, astonishingly a fox.
I’ve heard stories of cats standing their ground against foxes, but never had I heard about a cat hunting down and killing a fox.
Amazingly it was as if Lilly knew me, understood me. Her hunts would become cleaner, as if she knew the messier it was the more I’d have to clean it. She began to stop hunting animals that freaked me out, such as the mice and rats. And well... she started to hunt the birds that I ate.
I’m not proud of this, but it started when she brought home two chickens, I imagine from the neighbor down the road, and, well, I didn’t want to waste them. So I cooked them. In a curry. It tasted fresher than any chicken I had before, so tender and juicy, and I didn’t get ill afterwards so I tried cooking some of the other birds. I ate a raven, they’re not very flavorsome, but the meat is very tender. I ate a parakeet, very tasty and juicy, but far too finicky and bony. I even ate a seagull, but they don’t taste nice at all. Lilly noticed I only ate the birds, so she began to only hunt birds after that.
She must have caught all the chickens, as my neighbor stopped selling eggs at the local farmers market.
One day Lilly stopped for a while, a little over a week had passed, with no gifts. I should have known something was up. I’d thought all the birds had learnt to stay away from this area by now. Certainly no birds ever landed on my roof since. But no, Lilly was planning something. I don’t know how she did it, or how she planned it, but she wanted to get me a gift, far ‘better’ than any she’d given before. This is when the horror truly began.
I came home from work, find a small trail of blood, quite neat and tidy I thought. I wondered what it was that she’d gotten me this time... I know it’s shameful, but I was excited to see what we could eat tonight. I followed the trail, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw it, propped up on a pillow, was a severed human head, gawking at me. Sat just to the right of it, proud and adorable as ever, was Lilly.
I couldn’t contain myself. I was shocked, horrified, but also excited and amazed. Did a cat, my cat, no, my kitten, slay a human being? How was it possible, it can’t be. I must be mad. I thought. But, do I recognise them? The head that is.
Upon closer inspection I did, it was Father Martin, the priest of the local parish. I don’t think this was an accident.
I must be going mad, but it’s as if Lilly could hear into my thoughts. See, I’m not religious, far from it. I believe in chaos and the endless entropy of the universe. But I believe you should be good, for the sake of being good. Not ‘good’ because a God tells you to be, and then also be ‘justified’ in being an arsehole to those who are different because ‘God tells you to’. It’s all nonsense, you hate these people because you hate them, not because the Bible says so. You merely use religion as a shield, and I hate it. I think Lilly knows I hate it too.
A week ago, right when Lilly stopped giving me birds. Father Martin had banished a gay couple from attending sermons and propped up a lot of anti gay and ‘get cured today’ posters. this pissed me off so much when I’d heard about it... It couldn't have been a coincidence. The timing is too specific, the target too decisive.
That night I dug a hole deep, and buried the head within. I’m sure a neighbor saw me. When I was digging I saw a light in the corner of my eyes, when I turned to look the light was turned off. But it seemed like no one said anything. When the police did their rounds, knocking on all the doors in the neighborhood, they asked me basic questions.
Whilst they conducted their interview, Lilly snuggled my leg, purring smugly. I just played dumb and they ate it up, they didn’t conduct a search or anything.
After all this, Lilly did seem a little put out. Almost sad. I guess in her eyes she’s managed a great feat for me, and I’d thrown it away.
The police mentioned something about Lilly, again saying that something was ‘off’ about her.
They couldn’t put their finger on it, same as all the rest.I knew what it was, what everyone subconsciously saw, but didn’t recognise. It’s not initially obvious because it doesn’t make sense, but its obvious when you know it. And If I’m honest, I knew it from the beginning. I think I blocked it from my head, pretending not to notice, blinded by my love. But Lilly, Lilly doesn’t have a shadow.
I didn’t know what to do, I came close to confessing, but what would that achieve?
no one would believe me, that my cat which was still not fully matured had decapitated an adult man. That’s insane... Or if by some strange miracle they believed me, well, Lilly would get put down. She’s my baby girl. She’s so cute and well behaved, most of the time at least.
I can’t rat her out but how can I let it continue?
My neighbor keeps looking at me whenever I’m in my garden, staring at me through their blinds, as if I don’t notice. They definitely saw me bury the head. I’m certain of it. But why didn’t they say anything? What are they up to? I hate it. I hate it so much. WHY AREN’T THEY DOING ANYTHING? Silently watching, silently knowing. I can’t stand it. I CAN’T STAND IT.
I suppose I shouldn’t have thought it, but I’m not entirely regretful that I did, a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
I received a new gift from my darling Lilly that week. My neighbors head, this time paired neatly with their arm. Well, I can’t bury them again, the neighbor on the other side might see, besides... Lilly would be disappointed again, and she’s so cute when she’s happy. I guess it wouldn’t hurt.
I heard once that it tastes like pork, but it doesn’t. Not really, the texture and smell is similar but it tastes totally different. In all honesty, it’s closer to magpie.