Martin Greenberg - Catopolis

After the men gathered and caged all the cats, they shut the back of the truck, and then the vehicle shuddered into motion. Silent lay down in the stuffy, rumbling, rattling darkness and hoped he hadn’t just made a fatally reckless move.

The first several rooms in the animal shelter weren’t as horrible as rumor claimed. They lent credence to the accounts of those animals claiming to have survived imprisonment here, who to some degree refuted the tales of neglect and mutilation. But the man carrying Silent’s box didn’t stop in any of those spaces. He took him through two more doors and into nightmare.

The back room reeked of filth and festering wounds. Some animals bristled, snarled, barked, or hissed when one of their captors appeared. Others cringed to the backs of their tiny cages, and a few didn’t even seem to notice, as if they’d fled deep inside themselves.

The human shook Silent out into a wire cage, one of many stacked in rows. The food and water bowls were empty, and they stayed that way. Silent’s mouth grew dry, and he ignored the discomfort as best he could. At least he was sure his captors wouldn’t let a black cat die of thirst. That wasn’t what this was about.

He asked some of his fellow prisoners what they’d experienced here. Their answers sickened him.

The sun set. Sealed in a room with no windows, he couldn’t see it, but like any black cat, he could feel it, and he was glad. Maybe he shouldn’t have been. Demons and their servants were more powerful at night. But so was he.

The door opened, and the men who’d captured him came back through. The one with the narrow face opened a cage and dragged a dachshund out. The little black dog tried to bite, but its teeth couldn’t penetrate the human’s brown leather work gloves.

The other man, thickset with blond hair sheared very short, jabbed a hypodermic into the dachshund’s flank. In a few moments, its frantic struggles subsided to an almost imperceptible squirming. The man holding it laid it atop a steel table, and his partner set down the needle and picked up a cordless power drill. He pressed the button, and the bit spun and whined.

Silent had no obligation to act, for it was only a dog quivering helpless on the table. If he were as cunning as a magus was supposed to be, he’d wait to learn more before making a move. But he was simply too disgusted.

He called on Brother Tiger and swiped at the door of his cage. It flew open and dangled askew, hanging by one hinge. He leaped out onto the linoleum floor.

The humans pivoted in his direction. He charged them and ripped at the leg of the one with the drill.

His claws cut to the bone, the gashes spaced more widely than seemed possible, because at present he wasn’t just a cat but rather a fusion of cat and tiger. The man screamed and dropped, his blood spurting. The captive animals clamored.

Silent pivoted toward the man with the narrow face. His eyes wide, the human backed away and lifted a pocket pistol.

The gun was a problem. It likely wouldn’t kill Brother Tiger, but it could put a hole in Silent that would kill him when the Aspect departed.

He darted under the table. The human would be waiting to shoot when he reappeared, but at least this way he didn’t have to cover the entire distance running straight at the muzzle of the gun. Instead of charging directly at his foe, he swung left.

He bounded into the open. The pistol banged, and the bullet cracked into the floor beside him.

Silent closed the distance and tore the human’s leg out from underneath him. His foe fell down, and, his arm now shaking, tried again to point the gun. Silent leaped and clawed at his hand, half severing it and knocking the pistol away. The man convulsed.

Silent spun around to check on his other adversary. Still supine, the man was only shivering and twitching. By the looks of it, there was no fight left in either one of them.

Silent stood and panted. It wasn’t difficult to roar like a lion or run like a cheetah. But even for an adept, generating the strength and shadowy semblance of a tiger’s size and weight was a more taxing feat.

The other prisoners begged him to free them. He wanted to, but perhaps it would be better to scout now and come back for them later. He was still considering when the door opened once again.

A slender, raven-haired woman dressed in an Animal Control coverall entered the room, with several black cats padding at her back. The maimed men whined, evidently begging for her help.

When she answered, even a cat could recognize the note of scorn in her voice. She raised her hand, and each man jerked and then lay still. Points of light flew up out of their mouths and into her grasp. She squeezed them together, mashing them into a jelly, which she then licked off her palm and fingers. Now perceiving her true nature, the caged animals cowered.

Her repast complete, the demoness shrank and became a black cat. In heat. The scent of her evoked an instant pang of desire, even though Silent recognized her for what she truly was. It was surely a ploy to addle him, and he struggled to clear his head.

Perhaps she could tell that he was straining, for she laughed at him. “Silent,” she purred. “When I heard what happened in the cathedral, I suspected we’d meet by and by.”

He didn’t like it that she knew his name, but then, he didn’t like anything about this situation. “Who are you, and what are doing here?”

“When I wear this shape, some people call me Barb.” She lifted a paw and unsheathed gleaming claws to display their secondary points. “As for what I’m doing, haven’t you guessed?”

“You’ve taken control of the animal shelter, or at least a part of it, and turned it into a place of torment. You offer the black-cat prisoners a way out, but only if they agree to become what you want them to be.”

“Actually, it’s a little more subtle than that. The prisoners never associate me with captivity and abuse. That’s all done by humans under my control. I’m the shadow that comes in the night offering comfort, hope, and liberation if only the blacks will join me in a war against mankind. And why wouldn’t they? By that time, most of them are only too eager to strike back.”

“But what’s the point?”

“Why, to corrupt souls. To create living weapons, wield them to assail servants of the good and spread misery and despair, and, in time, to pass them along to human warlocks to serve as their familiars. With any luck, to stir up the old mistrust between men and cats all over again.”

“Her Majesty won’t allow that.”

“Your Queen isn’t here, only you, and you can’t stop me. But you can join me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To save your life.”

“It’s no use keeping your body alive if you kill your spirit to do it.”

“I’m not asking you to lose yourself. I’m asking you to become yourself more fully than ever before. Lucifer’s gift has always been a part of you. Haven’t you ever wondered how it would feel to use it? Imagine the wonderful things you could do if you married that power to the magic you’ve already mastered.”

For a moment, the prospect tempted him, or maybe it was simply the smell of her nether parts, still wafting on the air. He gave his head a shake. “I’m not interested.”

“Why? Because you love the humans? Have you looked around at this horrible place they built? It was a house of misery and death long before I arrived.”

“Maybe so, but for every one that hates us, there are ten who are our friends, and for every cruel deed, a hundred acts of kindness. I suppose I do love them. And even if I didn’t, I love the Queen, and I’ve already pledged her my allegiance.”

Barb sighed. “What a shame. We could have sinned such magnificent sins together.” She glanced around at the cats arrayed behind her, no doubt to order them to attack.