A story of how “My Cat Started The Zombie Apocalypse”. We’ve all watched our fair share of zombie movies, and we’ve all had some sort of terrifying experience with some low-quality, jump-scare-ridden video game, so we all know the many generic theories as to how the apocalypse started. Was it a spontaneous virus outbreak, or maybe some flesh-eating parasite escaped a lab somewhere? Maybe a little more realistic, it’s just a bunch of people on drugs and bath salts… whatever theory you prefer, you don’t know the truth.
The truth is even more disturbing. Heart-breaking, really.
Let me ask you a question. How many zombie animals can you name? Not many, right? Me neither. But that’s how it began and let me tell you, it’s a lot more frightening than the hell hounds you came across in Resident Evil, or the undead, yet surprisingly adorable Church in ‘Pet Semetary’. Do you remember in ‘I Am Legend’ when Will Smith’s character had to kill his beloved dog, Sam, to prevent him from turning? I wasn’t so lucky to have the chance to end it that swiftly when my cat, Dog, decided he wanted to start feasting on human organs (yes, I did name my cat Dog, I’m ironic, what can I say?).
It was my neighbours’ 3 year old son that Dog got first. I don’t know what happened; I guess the kid was just too small and weak to fight off a ravenous, blood-thirsty creature. This animal was acting on pure animal instinct, it’s speed and strength was surreal. It was determined to maul this tiny human and snack on his brains. I had fed him his favourite cat food less than ten minutes ago.
I came outside to the scene as my neighbours were attempting to drag Dog away from their only child. He had tore through the flesh on his skull – you don’t forget a scene like that. A thick, crimson substance covered the pavement. The child was so very still. Even when the kid’s father had finally wrangled the contorted evil feline away, it would not stop squirming and hissing.
We all stood still in utter shock and horror, the child’s father had bashed Dog’s head against the side of the house and I didn’t stop him. What kind of human would I be if I tried to save that monster’s life?
We all must have been thinking the same thing – Dog had just killed their child right in front of us. I don’t know what I was expecting. Tears? Shouting? Screaming? But there was nothing. But then his hand lifted every so slightly and a rush of relief ran through me. ‘Thank God’.
I wasn’t thanking God for long.
The child’s eyes opened. It wasn’t the bright blue round eyes that stared up at his mother. Instead, glassed over eyes glared right through her. The child lunged at his mother faster than any human should move. I instantly recognised the mannerisms and violence to be the same as the scene I had just walked out on not two minutes ago. Whatever had possessed Dog was now in this small, innocent boy and he was about to do the same to his parents.
You never forget the shriek of a human woman in fear and agony. It’s impossible to differentiate whether the squeal was down to the physical or emotional pain of the situation. I can only assume the pain of having someone tear into your neck is enough to make you forget that it was your own son that had gone all Hannibal Lector on your ass.
Within less than a minute, my neighbours garden was inhabited by three unrecognisable, undead strangers and I somehow couldn’t shake the undeniable feeling that it was my fault…
…because my cat started the zombie apocalypse.