Are Cats Attracted To Bleach Novels & Stories

I was pure and untouched and that was how my powers thrived. There was no way in hell that I would become mates with a dog. Slipping on my robe, I made myself some Chamomile tea and sipped it while petting Sawyer. My cat seemed standoffish and I figured it was due to Axel's scent covering my body. "I will go wash his scent from my flesh, old friend," I sighed before heading to my shower. I didn't realize that Axel had followed me to my tiny home and was currently marking it with his urine.

I shook my head, but another thought entered my head. On our way home, we saw a cat sitting outside, gray and black in color. Its eyes were deep green. Alone and cold, I patted its head before entering the house. I initiated to close the gate, my heart almost escaped my chest the moment that the cat jumped. Her beautiful eyes were firmly barred to me as if it wanted to say something but can't because it was a cat. I shrugged my shoulders disregarding the cat's presence. *haist* I rotated the water knob. Shaking my hand to remove the excessive water on my arm, I turned to get the white towel hanging on the metal bar beside the soap tray attached on the tiled wall.

“Blackie’s the weirdest cat I know. She loves water.” There are a couple of times I had to literally yank her out of the tub after her bath. She always tried fighting her way back even after I drained the water. She’s weirdly fascinated by water, so I have to make sure I close my bathroom door while showering or soaking in the tub.

Just how I liked it. By the time I finished, my scalp burned slightly, a prickling reminder of the lengths I was willing to go. I washed my hands, the cold water soothing against my skin. As I rinsed off the bleach, droplets splattered against the porcelain sink, swirling down the drain. Then a honk startled me. Short. Loud. Annoying.

I pulled the black fabric off my shoulders and tossed it onto the bed. But as the shirt landed, something caught my eye. Hold on. The tea stain. The tea stain wasn't just brown anymore. In the center of the wet patch, right over my heart, the black fabric had started to change color. A strange, pale yellow patch was spreading, like the way bleach eats through a dark cloth. I froze. What the hell is this… ? I picked up the shirt. My eyes narrowed into slits. Tea… bleach a fabric? I leaned down, my nose flaring. But I didn't even have to bring the shirt to my face. My senses, sharpened by years of striving in the dark, caught the scent instantly.

"What is that smell?" Usually, if someone stood in front of your bathroom and asked you about a certain smell, it would be best if you shoo that person away. However, that wasn't applicable to this moment now. Kat knew that the stench wasn't from something natural, albeit embarrassing. What she didn't know was how to explain it in such a way that wouldn't come across as suspicious. "Er, it's bleach," she said at last. "I've been . . . mega-cleaning the bathroom."

The cat's body, once vibrant and full of life, now lay still, its fur tinged with an unnatural shade of blue. But it wasn't just the cat's body that shocked Sashi—it was the sight of blue blood oozing from the cat's mouth, staining the pristine white floor with an otherworldly hue. The surreal scene played out before her, a macabre tableau that defied logic and reason.

The living room floor has been turned into a biohazard site. ‘Hire a cleaner,’ I said breezily. ‘I hear some offer a 24-hour rush service. Very discreet.’ ‘There would still be the… smell.’ ‘Get an aroma diffuser. Something pungent. Eucalyptus.’ ‘My bedsheets are also shredded.’ I stared at him, then down at the tiny, fluffy creature now chasing its own tail on my rug. ‘…This is a kitten. It’s probably four months old. It’s not the Incredible Hulk.’

⁠ I⁠ tied a‍ rag around‍ my face like a mask. I po​ured b‍l⁠each on t⁠he floor.⁠ I​ poured bleach‌ on the walls. The s​mell was overp‍ower⁠ing, ch‍emica‍l and sha‍rp‌.​ It burned my‌ e⁠yes, but I lov‍e‍d‌ it. It smelle‌d⁠ like purity. ‍I scrubbed the c‍oncrete⁠ on my h‍ands an⁠d‌ knee​s.⁠ I scrubbed the toilet‌. I s⁠crubbed the s‍ink.

And most importantly, that Igor and Oleg do not sniff out anything superfluous? The first thought was to pour a few bottles of any cloying perfume, with the most pungent smells, on myself, but this is not at all an option. Such a train can also raise questions, and it will not explain in any way where I was for several hours. Maybe doused with bleach, or some other cleaning agent? Pretend to take a job as a cleaning lady and hope they don't track me at work? Might work. All floor and wall cleaners usually contain chlorine, and we cannot stand this smell. Even I, after finding a she-wolf, began to react sharply to the smell of a floor cleaner, and these are my instincts and my sense of smell