The cold air whistled through the window, that was slightly cracked open. Dark cloud gathered above the small town of Doveport, as the light dimmed. The clock strikes midnight and the shadows are long and frightful. No moon will shine down upon any face. For, the darkness is to great.

Oh, how the shadows creep. Silent. Ever think they could be deadly? Look closer and you will see. The monsters that hide in the deep. An ocean of shadows. A pool of darkness. Do you see?

A set of glowing eyes. Your body tenses with fear. The fierceness of the eyes is high and they glow brightly. So unnatural. Suddenly, a dark body leaps out at you. Oh! It was just a black alley  at nothing to worry about. You walk home. Unbeknownst to what happened in this little town.

So long ago, you will not remember. Here it happened though, at the same hour. With the same cat.  Listen well, for what comes next is something you  might want to hear.

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Many years ago, in a small town named Doveport, the clock was soon to strike midnight. All was quiet and peaceful, and you would normally find the streets empty. Oh, but not tonight. An old man walked down the sidewalk.He was the librarian of the Doveport Library. Many had encountered him, but not one ever did truly meet this man. 

Very mysterious he was. Why wouldn't he not appear strange. He was old, lived alone, and was, well, walking the streets at midnight when most would be asleep, or at least at home. Walk on did he, destination unknown to anyone. 

The breeze was chilly and the night was dark. Shadows creeped at the feet of the old man. He froze when a clatter arose from the alleyway that he was walking past. The old man gazed into the darkness of the alley.

He could see nothing, but he could hear something. A shallow breathing, something brushing against metal. Like fur or a soft clothing. The old man stared harder, trying so desperately to see what he was starting to fear.

A trash can's lid, crashed onto the pavement with a loud clatter. The old man jumped from the noise. When he looked back into the alleyway, there stood a cat with glowing yellow eyes. It's fur was as black as a shadow. 

"Well, no wonder I didn't see you!" The old man said, trying to calm himself. Walking up to the cat, he picked it up. The cat complied and gave a soft meow. The old man checked to see if it had any tags. Turning the collar, he read the information provided on it. It read Please return this cat to William Herart, at 156 East Loner's Street. The old man gasped. That was his name and his address, but he had never seen this cat before in his life.

Herart stared at the cat and the cat stared back. It blinked, he blinked. Well, it coudn't Hurt to take it home. He though too himself as he continued walk down the quiet street. Soon, he came to an old, dusty shack. It's walls were battered and the woods was cracking in some places.

It seemed almost barely liveable. Herart unlocked the creaky door and set the cat down. It meowed. Again and again it meowed, until the old man dug in his cabinet for cat food. He used tp have a cat named Pumpkin, but it got lost and wound up dead on the streets. Dogs, it was assumed. 

Ahah! He took out some canned cat food and put it in Pumkin's empty cat bowl. The cat stared at the bowl strangely. Soon, the cat emitted a low hiss an then rubbed against old Herart's leg. The old man laughed. "Don't be jealous, that cat is gone!" 

Wait. Was that a smile? It was like glee was dancing in that cat's eyes. Of course that cat was dead! That's what that cat would say if it could talk. That cat turned up just the day before the old man found this new cat. 

Herart looked at the collar again. It seemed familiar. After making sure the cat, who he named Tabitha, was fed and had a comfy bed to sleep on, he sat on his rocking chair. He turned to the table that was near it and picked up a picture. It was of his old cat, Pumpkin. The strange part was that it had a worn purple collar with a gold chain on its neck. 

Strange, Herart thought. He looked at the collar that he had stored in his pocket. It was the same thing. Thinking that he must of been tired, he put it down near the picture and went to his bed. Soon, he was snoring.

Tabitha slunk out of her comfy bed to join her new master. She stopped at the rocking chair and jumped on it. She started to paw at the collar and then looked at the picture. Leaping off, she disappeared into the man's bedroom.

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