Cat Scratch Stories Novels & Stories

Kiki threatened Herman with his devilish smile on his face. “I am not weak!” Herman exclaimed irritated lengthening his nails of his right hand and scratching Kiki from his tummy to his head. “Kucing Terbang! (Flying Cat)” Herman exclaimed. “Did you have a good time?” Kiki asked. Herman is shocked. This is the first time he sees his attack doesn’t work. "No way! My scratching should have sliced his tummy, but he looks fine instead! Am I that weak?!" Herman said shocked in his mind.

"Because cats are a whole different breed. Did you have a bad experience with one?" Damn, he's good. Nodding, I say, "When I was ten. I tried to pick up a stray and it scratched the hell out of me." I turn my arms over to show him the light scars that you can still see. "I noticed those," he murmurs and lightly strokes his fingers along the thin, white tissue. Surprised, I pull my arm away from his touch before I begin to overheat. "Your turn," I murmur, trying to ignore the way my pulse speeds up at his touch.

While the teacher read my essay to the class they laughed out loud pointing fingers at me . The laughter intensified when the teacher read the part about me sipping hot cocoa and talking to my golden retriever . Some called me stupid while others said I needed to see a doctor to check if everything was alright in my head . At this point the teacher could not control the class . She gave up and they continued throwing words at me . I was at the brick of tears that was until a guy from behind my chair moved forward and held my hand , he consoled me . He was the first person to do that after Louisiana had left . For the first time I felt someone other than my parents and Louisiana cared . He we

I was only talking to the hottest guy I have ever seen. "Oh!" she wiggles her eyebrows, and grins at me, "do tell." Oops. I guess I said that out loud. I bite my lip, thinking through my next words. "Actually, I met two guys." "WHAT?!" Audrey screeches, throwing her hands in the air and nearly punching Mark in the face. At his grunt, she composes herself, and grins at me, "tell me all about them! I want details, Kat!" "Well—" I start until Dan cuts me off.

He shook his head and said, "It's nothing. It's just a few scratches. Zoey's not that delicate." I used to be afraid of cats. Five years ago, a stray cat had pounced on me. The shock was so severe that I lost the baby I had been carrying for eight months.

The little bugger was thirsty and took to the cream with gusto. The little mischief-maker was even kind enough to start flexing his tiny claws. Barring audio and visual input, Rhada's imagination took over. She had no clue what was causing the pleasure/pain. Cream spilled over her chest and the other two kittens joined the buffet. I changed up the cream with the peanut butter.

As though making up her mind, she suddenly hurled the cat to the ground and turned to run. Without a second of hesitation, Ian shut the car door. "Drive." The Porsche roared to life and sped after her. I was left standing there, choking on exhaust, and feeling utterly humiliated. Supporting my aching back, I stood up slowly. I felt both annoyed and faintly amused. What a mess. With a sigh, I walked over and picked up the trembling white cat. Two of its legs were injured from the fall. Its mouth was cut, and thin streaks of blood were seeping out. That explained why it couldn't run even if it was terrified.

The scratching became more urgent and Selena hesitated, “I think it’s Mr. Kitty.” Right when she said so, they heard the long mew. “He’s probably hungry.” They saw the doorknob moved suddenly and they both shuddered, instantly clamping the blanket over their chest. Cassandra grumbled under her breath as the ragdoll cat had a paw on the handle, its white body pushing the door open. She glared, “Not in my room, beasty! Shoo!”

and with its tail, it dipped into the rainwater, writing: “Annual Salary: One Sardine per Day” Takuto, struggling to keep his seriousness, extended his hand. “Deal.” He shook the cat’s paw, solemnly committing to the strange contract. But as they shook hands, the cat’s claw snagged his pinky finger—blood oozed from the small cut, mixing with the cat’s fur, and an eerie golden glow flashed in the lightning storm that loomed above them. “No way!” Takuto’s mother suddenly appeared in the doorway, her voice full of alarm. “Stray cats carry fleas!”

As Riley leaned over, poised to pounce on his innocent victim, Scarlett grabbed at his hand. It wasn't just another excuse to touch him--the thought of him fighting was one thing but she didn’t want to see it. It made her stomach turn, giving her that same feeling as the time her neighbour’s cat had caught a bird in the bushes. The poor thing had squealed and flapped to no avail, and though she’d desperately wanted to save the poor little thing, her mother stopped her. It was just nature, she said, and it was kinder to let it take its course.