3 Lingering Suspicion

"What the—?"

I jerked back and clasped my hands over my mouth to obstruct a terrifying shriek from escaping my lips. Behind me, I heard a gasp escape Shelly's lip and then finally, a screech. My back was leaned against her, probably already crushing her against her own door in an attempt to stay far away from my own window as possible.

"What is that? What the fuck is that?" Shelly was panicking — her voice was in a way husky, yet squeakish — if that combination was normal.

The thud against the window wasn't something too strong enough to even cause a dent, but it sure was alarming, especially when the black blur that I later made out to be a average sized fat mother cat stopped dead and slid down the window to remain immobile and unmoving, leaving in its wake a single trail of blood on the window. Shelly had probably been going too fast that we both didn't notice the fat cat about to cross. We were surrounded by more than hundred trees. It seemed like time itself had stopped. The car had shifted slightly off the road and was facing the trees in a way that the other half of the car was still on the road. For whatever reason, the streetlights weren't on, and the trees behind, before and around us seemed like black walls. The only light within miles of us was the car's headlights. I instantly began to wonder how fast it got so dark.

For a while, both I and Shelly remained silent, trying to steady our breathing and shake off the fear that had somehow gotten to us. We exchanged a knowing look, Shelly's expression of terror mirroring mine. We both knew we had either hit someone's cat or just some homeless stray cat. But either way, we knew we had to check to be sure the cat was okay.

"We should see," I informed Shelly, who nodded obediently despite the reluctancy on her face.

I hated to admit it, but my hands quivered as I unbuckled my seatbelt and shifted my backpack off my thighs to get out of the car. At that time, perhaps by coincidence Thriller by Micheal Jackson was playing on the car's radio and no matter how much I wanted to avoid visualizing the video it came popping back in my head despite the fact that we were spooked already and were practically in the middle of the woods, close to a cemetery.

"I should see first," Shelly offered, swatting stray strands of hair away from her line of vision.

She left the car engine on and got out before me, smoothing her hair back in nervousness. Arms hugging her shoulders, she walked around the car, and stared from a distance at the floor the cat had fallen and then into the woods. The bright headlights flashing against her made her look as a pale as a vampire under the moonlight. Terror and horror was scribbled over her face and her eyes were popping as wide as two apples in a fruit bowl as she continued staring into the woods.

"What do you see?" I called out.

Saying nothing and without even gazing in my direction, Shelly signaled I came out of the car. Taking the look on her face as a cue to be worried, I fished my phone out from my pocket and cautiously got out of the car, making sure to look before I stepped on the corpse of a cat that was supposed to be right there — but was stunned to see nothing on the ground, except a puddle of thick black blood.

"Where did it go?" I asked, glancing around everywhere and slowly walking to meet Shelly. "Do you think it crawled into the woods?"

Shelly gave no response. She remained standing in front of the car's headlight, staring up ahead. My stomach gave a sudden lurch in disgust and fear. Disgust because a rancid, putrid scent hung in the air, consisting of rustic blood, rotting something and other stuffs I couldn't even make out and fear — because I was really freaking out on the inside and because that road was never that deserted at that time of the day. It was when people usually came back from work and when some night workers headed to their work places. But then, there wasn't any cars zooming past. No other headlights flashing at us. No soul walking their dogs. Nobody but us. I suddenly began to feel mad at myself for ever looking forward for the stupid party when I could be home, glancing through my homeworks for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, it crawled into the woods," Shelly explained, briefly glancing at me. "But I don't think it would be safe for us to check it out. It seems wild."

She was right. The thick trail of blood, started from the puddle settled at the floor next to the car door and led — in a straight line — into the woods opposite us, that both I and Shelly seemed very reluctant to go into, considering the fact that it was very dark in there and the animal seemed like a wild, untamed cat. Loud screech, shrieks and pained meows coming from the woods confirmed that the cat was there and still alive. Clutching hard my phone, I turned around — nose wrinkling — and stared in the direction the cat had come from. The car's headlight flashed into the woods and gave off nothing but much trees that formed a forest. My eyes roamed about it questioningly, brows puckered, until my gaze settled on a gleaming object that laid just inches away from the car.

"Look, Shelly," I pointed behind her. "There's something there."

Swiftly my legs carried me — I felt Shelly follow — and even before I could reason with myself, I had approached the woods and bent down to examine the object that turned out to be a broken silver choker with the name Bella boldly inscriped into it. I felt my saliva thickening at a rancid speed, and my gut wrenching and twisting in a really uncomfortable manner that made me feel hot. And because of the hotness, I broke into cold sweat and began to perspire.

"That cat belonged to someone?" Shelly said, sounding terrified. "We just hit someone's lost cat. Jeez. What do we do? Let's just go."

"No, we can't," I protested.

I hopped onto my feet and audibly gulped. I had a cat too, that I loved very much and the thought of some people running her over and leaving someday just terrified and chilled me to the bones. I squeezed the choker tightly in my left hand and exhaled sharply, swiping my phone open with my other hand and typing in the passcode. "I've got to call mom. She can handle this."

Suddenly, the sounds of slow footsteps walking on dried leaves grabbed our attention from the other side of the woods. It wasn't too loud, but was loud enough that it grabbed both I and Shelly's attention simultaneously. Someone was walking in the darkened opposite woods and it just wasn't any cat. It couldn't have been. My heart raced, my feet felt cold and my fingers limp that I couldn't proceed in dailing my phone for help. Goose pimples immediately began to sprout underneath the light cotton of my shirt. Shelly's hand instinctively jolted up and grabbed my forearm into a secure, moist hold, her eyes wide. I could tell she was just seconds away from bolting off into the car at a dangerous limit and zooming off.

"Who's there?" I summed up all the courage in me and asked.

Shelly whimpered, leaned into me and whispered in my ear, breath cold. "I think we should really go now."

I stood my ground and gave no response to her, just as whoever it was also did. In between the darkened woods, a dim bulb flickered on and then off and it appeared as if someone was holding it up. Both I and Shelly became even more alarm. "Hello?" She called out, voice quivering.

The footsteps approached and the cat's painful howling began to fade away. Someone cursed and seemed to slap the source of the light against flesh and the light flickered on and off once again. My fingers kicked into action, once I was sure it was human like I and Shelly and I quickly turned on my phone's flash light, my hands quivering. I raised the light up in the direction of the opposite woods and glared to make out any moving objects. A tall dark figure in dark hoodie approached the direction of the howling cat, walking almost cautiously, flickering, unstable light in his hold.

"What are you girls doing on this deserted road alone?" A male voice called out, dripping with English accent. "It's not safe."

Both I and Shelly exhaled deeply and hunched over, my fisted hands that were holding onto both my phone and the cute cat choker were pressed against my chest. From a distance, we spotted a pick up truck coming in our direction. The bright headlight worked as a source of light and illuminated the road, shining brightly upon us. I took that as an opportunity to study the man in the woods opposite us. He was most likely few inches over 6ft and his figure was hooded — sweatpant and grey hoodie. He looked nothing like the cementary's security guard like I'd expected him to be. Before the pick up truck, zoomed past us — not even slowing down to investigate what was going on — I caught a quick glimpse of the tall man's facial feature. He had dark, brooding look and long bangs toppling over his face. In his hands was a faulty silver flash light that glinted in the dark.

"We hit a cat," Shelly said, almost stuttering. "We're not sure if it's dead or just injured but we think it belonged to someone because—"

The cat shrieked loudly, and I saw the dark lump forming its body jerk up and agressively. Shelly stopped talking. The man stepped back, seeming alarmed but not too scared. The cat continued to screech violently, purring wildly, as if it was in for another attack but this time, not on the car's window but the man towering it. It violently lifted itself off the floor and twisted with agony.

"You kids should get the hell out of here," the man voice sounded strained and panicked. "I can handle this."

Shelly breathe a sigh of relief, her hand found my forearm once again and she gripped tightly into it. "Thank you. We should be on our way then."

But then something felt odd. Very out of place. I then began to wonder what that man was doing there at that hour, wandering in the woods like it was something normal when it certainly wasn't normal. The cat shrieking got louder and with each volume it picked, my heartbeat also increased its pace. I dragged my arm out of Shelly's hold and stepped forward, my flash light focusing on the man's unsteady, tensed movement.

"What is wrong with it?" I inquired, honestly concerned. The closer I got to the cat, the more that pungent smell stung my nose and threatened to make me spill all the content in my gut and I had to wrinkle my nose.

The man hissed and slapped the torch light against his palm once again, this time desperate for it to come on. Miraculously, the bright light came on and the man flashed it directly onto my face, momentarily blinding me. I instinctively took a step back, understanding the hint that I wasn't needed at a close range. "Do not come closer," he cautioned. "The cat's just fine. I can handle it."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Shelly demanded from behind me. "It sounds. . .you know very injured?"

"It's just fine—" The man let out an amused chortle. "But you ladies might want to leave right now. I know this baby. . .and she can be very violent."

His English accent rang on in my head. I heard Shelly mutter a low "What?" next to me, her voice laced with disbelief. The cat shrieked loudly, simultaneously with my phone ring piercing through the air and starting me. I jerked up and glared down at the phone screen. Quinn was written boldly as the caller's ID. The cat was the man's we realized at that moment. But when we heard the click of a gun's trigger, we had to think otherwise. That man had a fucking shotgun with him.

"Are you—?"

"Get out of here kiddos!" The man's voice startled both I and Shelly and we simultaneously jerked up. The ringing of my phone persisted, even though I wasn't ready to answer at that moment. I was confused and desperate for an answer. My teeth gnawed on my cheeks on the inside and my fingers wrapped tightly around the choker, nails digging into my palms. If it was his cat, why did he have a gun to kill it? Shelly's hand clasped against my left wrist once again and she dragged me in one jerk, muttering incoherent words to my ears.

"We should go," she advised.

"That-that. . .he is going to kill that cat," I stuttered, fighting the urge to exhale in exasperation.

"It not our business," Shelly urged on. "It's just a cat. . .his cat."

I nodded and decided to follow her advice in minding our businesses. Shelly prodded me in the direction of the door, nibbling on her lower lip in confusion. Looking over my shoulders at the figure of the man looking down at the struggling cat in anguish, I opened the car door and stepped inside — my phone held tightly in my hand. For a while, my door stubbornly hung open. The cat continued to screech loudly but not for long, not after two gunshots rang through the air and practically reverberated through my chest, momentarily strangling me.

I slammed the door shut. The situation just felt helpless. Helplessly wrong and we were partaking in that wrong decision. I felt it. Maybe I was being a bit too dramatic or a crybaby, but I felt hot tears prickle my eyes and blurring my vision. The figure of the man wandered off and got farther and farther away as Shelly drove off, this time, at a maintained and safe speed limit until I couldn't make out the figure of the man from the dark trees forming a forest except for his twinkling flashlight that glinted and glittered against my blurred vision.

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