Bad Luck, Briony: A Short Story by Rebeca Elgueta

Black cats are bad luck. Briony had heard it many times, but she’d never believed a word of it.

After all, there was a black cat next door that always greeted her at the end of the path, near the practically-falling-off gate. Every day without fail, it perched on the wall and stared her down; it wasn’t a fairly large cat, rather it was on the small side, and it had such pretty orange eyes, like polished amber stones. Yes, it should have unnerved her, but it didn’t. In fact, as she watched the cat play on its back she found it to be really cute. Finished putting on a show for an audience of one, the cat stretched and sauntered away as it always did, leaving her confused and sad, as it always did.

If she really stopped to think about it, the situation was odd. Why on earth did the black cat do that every time she walked by? What’s more, what was even going on in that house? Just last night, when she was settling down with her favourite book about a murder mystery on a train, she heard it. A soft thud. At first, she thought nothing of it, too absorbed in her book as she was to put it down. Except the sound didn’t stop. Should I go over? Briony thought. What reason could an old woman have to be making so much noise? She pondered over it a little longer, until the clock struck, signalling it was time to rest.

Maybe tomorrow then.

*

The following day, as Briony anticipated, the black cat was there once more. Instead of continuing on her daily walk, past the wall of the house next door, an idea struck her. She decided to hang back. In her garden was a tall oak tree; it had been around since her grandmother’s generation. Diving behind it, she peeked around, watching, and also praying no one noticed her. Yes, what she was doing was truly ridiculous, but this whole thing niggled away at her. Sure, the cat was cute (really cute even). But it was odd too, and while it didn’t unnerve her, it did bother her.

Briony watched the people and then watched closer still to see how the cat would react. She waited with anticipation. Of what, she wasn’t certain. Did she really want it to be affectionate with other people? Did she care if she wasn’t special? She soon found her answer for the cat simply stretched and lay down, its head on its paws, and closed its eyes. She should have been relieved, but all Briony felt was frustrated.

So, it really was just her, but why? Was she special somehow? She hated questions without answers. Refraining from stomping her foot like a petulant three-year-old, Briony marched up to the cat. More questions tumbled in her mind: “How dare you keep watching me? Why, oh why, do you keep doing that? Do you want food? A home? Is this one not good enough? Is that old lady not taking care of you?”

Except, just as she was about to launch into this verbal assault, she stopped herself. In front of her was a cat. It was still broad daylight on a clear July morning, and there were other people hovering around. They might have even noticed her hiding behind the tree before, judging by the side looks she kept getting. How embarrassing, Briony thought, wanting to shrink away. But I can’t back down. Not now, that would just make this even more awkward.

“What are you doing here, Kitty?” she said, half-heartedly reaching towards the black cat. It seemed to peek through one eye as her hand neared. Then, almost lazily, its tail curled gently around her wrist. Stretching, a long luxurious kind of stretch, claws flexing, the cat sat upon the wall and stared her down again. Briony froze, unable to move even as the cat leisurely licked itself. Was she seeing things? Surely she must have been; she wasn’t the kind of girl to take recreational substances, after all. But how could she possibly have seen the cat smile? As far as she was aware, cats couldn’t do that, right? Strange. Why did she always have more questions than answers when it came to this cat?

She watched as the cat continued to groom itself. The act itself was innocent, endearing was a word that popped into her mind. Yet, it also sent a shiver down her spine.

She couldn’t forget that smile.

                                                                                       *

Later that night, Briony was reading again in her one and only armchair. The other one vanished a while ago — along with her mother. She’d gotten further than last night, and her hot chocolate on the table beside her had gone cold.

THUMP.

The sound was so loud she jumped, her book slipping out of her hands, hitting the floor. Thuds again? Shaking her head, she bent down to pick up her book, the page she’d been on now lost, leaving her frustrated. She’d have a word with her neighbour first thing tomorrow. As she straightened, her heart started racing. Too fast. Unsettled, Briony placed her book on the table, her other hand over her chest. Why? Was she just shaken by the sound? The book was all but forgotten as she tried to rein in the encroaching panic.

This… something’s wrong, Briony thought, starting to tremble. She gasped as the sensation intensified; it was like a ghostly hand was holding her heart, prepared to squeeze any moment. She was just terrified. Yes, that’s what it had to be. It was just fear. The thuds grew, and with each one Briony felt her heart tighten. Somewhere in her still rational mind, a thought made its way to the surface.

How am I hearing this? The more she pondered on it, the clearer her thoughts became even as her heart pounded in her ears. Though neighbours, the houses were a short distance apart. She shouldn’t have heard anything — maybe a faint rumble at most. Not this: a boom so close it seemed to go off inside her.

Yet, the thuds stopped as quickly as they came, like smoke dispersing into the air, and with it the vice-like grip on Briony’s heart. Struggling to catch her breath, she sat back in her armchair. Was it a good thing or a bad one that the sound had stopped? She wasn’t sure, but the ringing in her ears, not to mention her racing heart, told her everything.

Briony cast her eyes down onto her discarded book, and flashes of a smile crossed her mind. Rising to her feet, she took a torch, put on her shoes and a warm jacket, and went outside.

It couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

                                                                                       *

The gate was still rickety, still one gentle push away from collapsing altogether. No wonder it’s open all the time, Briony thought, being mindful not to touch it. If that collapsed now, she shuddered to think how loud it would be; she didn’t exactly want to be caught sneaking into her neighbour's house. Cautiously, she crossed the boundary into the garden, her torchlight shone a beam through the darkness of the night. She could just about make out that her surroundings consisted of overgrown grass and weeds.

How odd… She knew an old lady lived here with her cat, so she’d naturally assumed that she simply struggled with maintenance. But, now that she was thinking about it, how long ago was that? She hadn’t seen her in… Well, she couldn’t remember when she had last seen the old lady.

No matter. It could wait.

She knocked on the front door, startled when it creaked open. Wary, she pushed it further, feeling her heart start to race again. She froze as she stepped inside; her torch nearly slipped from her grasp, and she held on even as her hands grew clammy. The small living room was thick with cobwebs. Everywhere she looked, the surfaces were buried under layers of dust.

An old lady couldn’t possibly be living in these conditions. No one could be. So who could be taking care of the cat?

Pain exploded in her head and Briony gasped, her torch slipping from her grasp as she clutched at her skull. The cat. How could she have forgotten? A memory surfaced — one she hadn’t thought of in years. She’d met a similar-looking cat when she was a child. That day when she grazed her knee, foolishly as children do, a black cat had sauntered over and licked the wound clean. She’d thought it sweet, so she reached out to run her fingers over its back. Purring so softly, it leaned into her touch and even started curling its tail around her wrist. It had the same amber eyes too, but it couldn’t be the same cat though, surely? Too much time had passed, and the black cat perched on the wall was too young to be the same.

The pain dimmed, and a pulse deep in her bones began to resonate. Something was beckoning her toward the basement.

                                                                                       *

Of course, right after making her way down the open trapdoor, down stone steps into a much colder basement, of course that was when her torch decided to die on her — probably from dropping it earlier. Luckily, there was light, albeit a little stream of moonlight from a small window.

A pained groan cut through the silence, halting her steps.

“Hello?” Briony called out, her voice faltering. No reply. “Is… Is anyone there?” She wanted to call out the name of the old lady, but she couldn’t recall it. Her body trembled, but she forced herself towards the direction of the sound, stumbling in the darkness. It could be the old lady in need of help; maybe she’d just taken a tumble down the stairs?

Candles flared to life all around her, their glow so bright against the darkness that she had to shield her eyes. When she looked back at the room, a chill seized her body. There, lying on the floor and gasping, was the old lady.

She took a step towards her, but she didn’t move. Confused, Briony looked down at her feet — and froze. All the air left her lungs as panic rose in her chest. There was a magic circle, that’s what it looked like anyway, on the floor around her. It was detailed, the kind of thing that looked like it had taken hours, yet the edges were rough, and it glowed.

“What’s going on?” Briony cried, struggling to break free. Wisps of a blue energy quickly encircled her, tightening like a mass of boa constrictors. From the old lady, she saw the same coloured wisps coming off of her body, still barely breathing, and with horror she realised two things. The old lady had the same magic circle beneath her, and something was being torn away from Briony. She could feel it, like the warmth in her body was being stolen and her heart was freezing over.

The black cat was taking something precious from her.

Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped and Briony collapsed to the floor. Struggling to catch her breath, she scrambled upright, her eyes wild when they fixed on the cat. It sat just beyond the magic circle around her, tail swishing, and smiled again — that same unnatural smile.

Hello, Briony. A voice echoed in her head. She flinched away. Don’t be afraid, there’s no need for that. This is a good thing.

“A good thing?” Briony whispered, stunned. The talking cat part mattered little given the situation. She had more pressing concerns: why was she so cold? Cold enough that her body felt numb. “What did you do to me? I… I can’t feel anything.

”Oh don’t worry, the cat laughed in her head, that’ll pass, or maybe itwon’t? It all depends on whether you can accept this gift.

“Gift? What are you talking about…?” Blue sparks flickered at her fingertips, cutting off her words.

Ah, there you go! The process has started. Good, good. Now let’s hurry it along.

“What?” Before Briony could look at the cat again, she felt a sharp pain from her hand. Crying out, she yanked it towards her. Deep scratch marks scored the flesh across the back, blood gathering in thin trails and dripping onto the circle below her. “The hell?” she shouted, “why did you—?”

Her voice died mid-sentence. She had felt submerged in ice before; now it was as if she’d been hurled into fire. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even cry out for the pain running through her veins like magma. After what felt like hours, the pain vanished. Disoriented, she clutched at her chest. She felt warmer again, but there was one thing she couldn’t feel.

She couldn’t feel her heart. No pulse. Nothing. It just felt like an uncomfortable lump of ice in her chest.

Finally, the cat spoke again in her mind, she could hear the elation in its voice. You have no idea, Briony, how long I’ve been waiting for that oldcrone to let her guard down.

“What are you talking about?”

The contract. The words slid into her mind: I chose you 20 years ago. Don’t you remember? Upon seeing Briony’s dumbfounded look, the cat shook its head. Oh you poor girl, you’ve forgotten. Well, that won’t do. I’ll have to jog your memory. Before Briony could blink, the cat placed its paw gently on her forehead. The memory she’d seen when she entered the house flashed in front of her eyes, leaving her reeling.

That could only mean…

Judging by the look in your eyes, you remember now. I originally planned for our contract to be completed the following day, but that old crone was sneaky. The cat hissed at the corpse of the old woman. Already a witch, she seized the opportunity and bound me to her. A special cat like me, I have to have a witch or I’ll wither away, so what was a defenceless kitty supposed to do? I can’t harm my contractor. I was her prisoner, Briony. She watched the black cat's ears flatten and she felt a faint tug in her numb heart. But then I found a way! The cat made its way over to Briony, resting its paws in her lap and looking up at her with those beautiful amber eyes. I couldn’t harm her, but I could transfer what she had. I could have you instead, Briony, because you’re perfect.

“What do you mean?”Your heart. The black cat laid its paw on her chest. I wanted your heart, and you were on your own in that big house. I’ve been watching you all this time, I saw everyone who came and everyone who left. But I won’t. The cat smiled again.

“You did something to me,” Briony said, surprised at how calm she sounded. Far too calm. “I can’t feel anything.”

Ah, yes. I had to use some different sigils from the last ceremony that was forced on me. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Briony, but I didn’t want to lose you. It nuzzled against her chest, purring.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?”

She meant to scream it at the cat. She meant to push it away from her and run as far as she could. But she didn’t move an inch, and the words that did come out made her thoughts spin out of control — the only part of her still free from the numbness. Why do I sound emotionless? Briony thought, with terror she couldn’t feel. It was nothing like the fury hidden inside her. The black cat curled in her lap, smiling again. It seemed pleased with itself. Could this be what it meant by wanting her heart? By the different sigils?

All feeling was gone.

It pains me to see you bewildered, Briony. Very well, I’ll tell you. Snap your fingers and think of fire at their tips.

She did as she was told and clicked her fingers, thinking of a soft flickering flame. It leapt to life, licking the edges of her fingers; startled, she threw her hand forward and the fire followed, setting some papers alight.

Oh dear, the black cat chuckled, and with a wave of its tail the flames were extinguished. Perhaps as well I didn’t need those; you’re a strong witch, Briony.

“Witch? You mean you turned me—?”

Into a Witch. Yes, I did. But you don’t seem happy somehow. It’s a win-win, no? I get to live forever and so do you, AND you get strong magic. You can do what you want now, Briony, with power most people can only dream of. Isn’t that a good thing?

But this isn’t what I want, Briony thought, aching to cry. I didn’t ask to live forever! Now, she realised with dawning horror, she didn’t have a choice. She moved like a puppet on strings, hollow inside; love, hate, joy— all of it had collapsed into a cold, dull numbness. She didn’t hate the cat, didn’t hate the incredible magic in her grasp, didn’t hate the immortality now hers… but she didn’t like it either.

                                                                                       *

Ever so slowly, her old life crumbled away as if it had never existed; people forgot her shortly after meeting her, learned to stay away from the house despite its pristine state — abandoned, some said; the previous owner died, others whispered.

Black cats are bad luck. Briony had heard it many times. Now, she wished she’d listened.