It moved from city to city each blood moon when the ley lines shifted.

Rumors poured through Ephisas like water across a burst dam: it had come for us.

Yet I didn't believe.

The Wednesday after the panic set in, my tabby rolled to his back and called out a horrific scream. He arched against the ground before a spasm wracked his body.

I moved closer to see if he was okay, but he hissed at me. My poor Hui seemed to lose all control of his motor functions. He began a slow, swaying walk to the door. When his head hit the solid wood, he didn't stop, straining against the barrier.

I feared he would kill himself by ramming his head, over and over.

I let him out of my apartment and into the busy streets. He would surely die without aid, so I followed him. Now that he'd entered this strange possessed state, he let me move him out of the way of danger as it arose.

Other cats had not been so lucky, and their dead bodies lined the streets in a gory trail to this mysterious place.

Ephisas had always been a clean city, so the journey felt like traversing the circles of hell as the grime and stink and mucus grew in a ghastly infestation across everything.

I followed Hui through sewers and across graffiti walls to a sunken area on the edge of the city. The wailing was so loud I couldn't hear myself think. Their screams tangled together in a cacophonous symphony of repugnance.

The cats that survived the trip would have been better off dead. Their bodies disfigured into unrecognizable shapes, and they clawed at each other in anger and pain.

It was true; I'd found the place where cats shift to their true form, and Ephisas didn't stand a chance.