Prologue

“Come on, Janie. We got to get in there and get the picture if we want to be friends with the popular kids,” The sixteen-year-old girl urged on her friend.

“But cat-boy…?” Janie asked quietly not wanting to go through the gate which lead to the cottage in question.

Her friend rolled her eyes, “Cat-boy is just an urban legend made up to scare children. I mean, come on… Who the hell really makes up this rubbish? A psycho ghost seeking revenge for a being hanged. Not only that, but he can also control cats?” The girl looked at her friend with a bemused expression. “What is he going to do? Get all the little kitties to lick us to death?”

Janie started laughing, “I guess you’re right, Tammy. It is a pretty dumb story.”

“Yes, I am,” Tammy smiled and took her friend’s hand.

Together they walked the short distance through the gate to the old cottage that rumour had it, had not been opened in over a hundred and fifty years.

The last person who had entered the house was supposedly almost attacked and killed by a group of cats.

People who had entered before that, after the owner’s death, reported similar happenings. In their rush to escape, the last person had snapped the key in the lock. Surprisingly, no one had tried to enter or even remove the key since. The town just seemed happy to leave things be.

“You got the bits?” Janie asked stopping in front of the door.
Tammy pulled her bag around the front of her. After a few seconds of looking she found instruments that she had secretly taken from home. The tools that her father used in his job as a locksmith.

After twenty frustrating minutes of trying she finally heard the familiar click of the broken key. The moment they opened the door the old, stale air flooded out and the sense of unease hit them. But they both hid it well.

Entering the house the girls found the dusty, dark cottage still fully furnished in Georgian furniture. All the curtains were closed and windows covered with overgrown ivy.

“Wow, this is a pretty place,” Tammy exclaimed walking further into the house.

“Yeah, shame about the dust and stuff though,” Her friend agreed.

Several minutes of looking around and apart from the feeling of being watched, nothing had happened.

“See, told you it was bull,” Tammy said smirking.

“Let’s take the picture. Maybe later we can come back?” Janie suggested walking over to the picture that featured in the background of a very famous local painting. The painting which is of a man in his early thirties in an old fashioned room is supposedly the man who owned the cottage. Also known as Cat-boy.

The moment they took the picture and went to leave though, everything changed.

The touches that they held flickered and a breeze blow through the house. The girls became spooked but did their best to ignored it, brushing it off as a coincidence.

But the moment came with foot of the door a dark apparition appeared in front of them. It was hard to tell individual features but they could it was a male.
“Put it back and leave!” The dark, unearthly voice threatened the pair.

Janie stood froze, Tammy grabbed her arm and pulled her friend past the figure and out of the house. She was still holding the small picture.

The figure growled and before the girls could reach the gate they were surrounded by a dozen hissy cats on their haunches. Instead of standing still, again Tammy made a run for it pulling Janie with her and kicking a few cats as they ran.

The girls somehow made it into their parked car without a scratch.

“Crap! That was close,” Tammy exclaimed and started laughing.
“I really thought…” They were cut off by the loud sound of breaking glass.

“NO, NO, NO, NO!”

**

“Net, I wish you didn’t have to go,” The twenty-three-year-old woman said crying. Holding the hand of an older woman on her death bed.

“Bee, it is the right time,” Replied Net, the seventy-six-year-old woman who had become like a mother to her young neighbour, Bee. “I have had a good life and now I will get to see Billy again.” Bee knew that the older woman had been very depressed since her husband of fifty years died only five months before.

“I know. I.. I’ll just miss you.”
“Don’t. Just know, you’ll never be alone…”

Before the younger woman had a chance to ask her what she meant, Net’s eyes closed for what would be the last time.