Scary Cat Scratch Stories Novels & Stories

Otherwise she wasn't sure where she would go. She wasn't sure how long she had been wandering. The Horseplace was just another destination she had in mind. Loud thundering steps told her that the creatures who lived here were approaching. Sprucepaw wasted no time in running out of the way before she was trampled to death. She'd heard far too many stories of cats dying because they were careless.

Two eyes, bright yellow like burning coals, stared back at her, mirroring my fear. "Who's there?" I whispered my voice barely a tremor. The growling grew louder, and closer, sending shivers down my spine. A stench of damp fur and something wild filled the air, making my stomach twist. In the depths of the pit, something stirred, a hulking shape slithering out of the darkness with the silent menace of a jungle cat. As the moonlight glinted off its form, my breath hitched. It was a creature of nightmares all sharp angles and shadows. Razor-sharp teeth gleamed like daggers in the dim light, and its eyes burned with an eerie glow like embers burning in a forgotten fireplace.

One by one, they all exhaled, believing the danger had passed. Just as they were about to return to their casual chatter, Cathrine’s instincts screamed at her. Something heavy pounced from the shadows, knocking her to the ground. The sudden impact forced her head against the earth, and her vision blurred momentarily. When she regained focus, she found herself face-to-face with a tiger—a Bengal tiger, its fierce, unblinking eyes locked onto hers. The creature’s fangs gleamed as it growled, ready to strike.

They bite and scratch him repeatedly before he manages to untangle himself. My heart rate spikes as I realize Lucian is about to take on nine wolves by himself. Care for the monster slaps me in the face, and I jump to run to his rescue, but the bodies around me refuse to let me move forward. They grab my arms and yank me back easily.

And at length even Pluto, who was now becoming old, and consequently somewhat peevish—even Pluto began to experience the effects of my ill-temper. One night, returning home much intoxicated from one of my haunts about town, I fancied that the cat avoided my presence. I seized him, when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight wound upon my hand with his teeth. The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fiber of my frame. I took from my waistcoat pocket a penknife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and delibe

I questioned before I slapped myself. "Ouch!" I screamed. It was worth a try, I was wondering if I was just dreaming. I usually have vivid dreams. I extended my hand to pet that cat and touch the moon on its head but it hissed. I took my hand back since I am not in the mood to get bitten and take rabies shots. I tried pinching myself and hold and behold, I really ain't dreaming. But how can a cat have a moon on its head?! That's bizarre and quite impossible!

I shuffled over, careful to keep my head low. Back in Malden, my friend Timmy MacDougal had told me a story about this kid that was crawling under the farmer’s porch of a house during a game of hide-and-seek and put his hand right into the guts of a dead cat. It grossed him out to the point he forgot where he was, and stood up to run. An exposed nail dug into his head and he needed a bunch of stitches and a tetanus shot. The very thought always made my legs go rubbery and I was obsessively cautious anytime I was under a porch or in a basement or attic. There were plenty of roofing nails poking through the wood above me.

Scratchy appeared from the kitchen, fur standing on end, hissing at this intruder who reeked of violence. "I'll tell your precious Thane exactly what kind of damaged goods he's sleeping with," Owen continued, methodically knocking over my plants. "About the foster kid who seduced her way into decent families, only to cry abuse when things got tough." "That's not—" "Who's going to believe you?" He kicked Scratchy when the cat tried to swipe at him. The small body hit the wall with a sickening thud. "No!" I threw myself between them as Owen raised his foot again, taking the blow to my ribs instead.

Jessica’s story Stephanie was always trying to help no matter what. I don’t really know if this friend medium of hers can do something. At least we could try. The next morning we took her car and drove to a small neighborhood with not so friendly faces. I must have been a little scared looking at the surroundings. A cat knocked over a dumpster and a scream left my lips and echoed between the blocks. - Don’t tell me you are not scared of a vampire but you are scared of a little kitten.

I looked up and saw her hand turning black at a visible speed, with dark purple bruising spreading rapidly. "Mom, is this serious?" Oliver frowned, panic flashing across his face. "It's fine. It's just a spider," Paula replied. I smiled coldly. This wasn't just any ordinary spider. It was one of the most venomous spiders in existence. Oliver also thought it was nothing and looked back at the people still grabbing gift boxes, greed flickering in his eyes again. "Actually, Mom, maybe getting bitten by a spider took away our bad luck. Let's go grab more boxes. We're bound to find something good this time."