The Right Man in the Wrong Place

{"The Right man in the Wrong place can make all the Difference in the World. So wake up, and smell the ashes" - Gman, Half-Life 2... Today is a post for @mctiller's Twenty-four hour Contest, something about a duderino finding his wiferino being a cato. Something like that... Today's music-aide: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower from Bloodborne.}

- The Right Man in the Wrong Place -

Pairs of shoes bounce off the concrete, the concrete singing each tap with grace as the car door made the usual clicking noise Willigan's ears had come to appreciate. His nose smelt of the cherry pie and his body was tempted to just float to the smell but knew better that. A fist raised and arching back, three consecutive knocks in increasing door eeks came. The feet taking a step back with the body ever-cocked to greet his-one-n-only, his smile wavered not as he stood there patiently.

However, a folly came through his mind and whispered sweet, scary thoughts which began calculating all that could've happened to her. Then came, yet, a noise from the other side and his ears gave the calm and cooling down his mind needed. Body prepared in his proper Levittown fashion, his lips gave only a half-smirk with nothing happening. And so a breach of ritual was signed with his hands grasping the door-knob, that metallic item squealing with the door hinges as the door torqued away from him. Feet stepping in with shoes still on, another breach in the usual rituals but his mind could care less of that fancy. Finally, the obscenity of all breaches came as his voice-box tried to reassure the dread hanging on his head.

"Oh, Honey, I'm home. Don't know if today's... the day for your friend's celebration or you're in the backyard. But I'm home... Honey?"

A shriek meow echoed through the air, forcing his feet to quibble as his body rather felt like collapsing on this fine minute. The floor owing in pain before his lips would release such audio-information freely, his hands reacted to the trend and tried to hoist his body up only to weaken with the shock still coursing around his mind. Yet with the shock growing weaker over time, the mind managed to recuperate the losses and forced his feet to press forward again. Body still dancing like an Egyptian and not erect like a Levittown person, his mind ordered billions of commands to all the body parts to investigate the source.

"Honey, this ain't funny now. I dunno what game your playing but you've won fair and square, whatcha yah want for winning?"

Another meow echoed, bouncing lighter than the one before, but his ears ever-cringing to cat noises in general. His eyes finally seeing the noise-polluting source, his heart began to sank slowly as his mind pondered the implication of clothing articles below a cat. Realizing his wife's clothes hadn't been changed to the usual evening wear, seeing as his wife wasn't present, more-or-less that the cat he knew not was already purring on his legs and seeing burnt marks everywhere, his mind collapsed and his heart pierced through all the flesh but still clung on to the body desperately. Collapsed to the floor, he repressed what soon came inundating the floor with all its wet sorrowfulness; the cat tiptoeing across to lick his face as their noses connected on many occasions.

"Ah lil' shoo-coms, how can I be sad in front of yah? I-I-I-I can't believe what even... transpired. I just can't, but if your her-"

A paw landed on his nose, the cat coming in to nuzzle his nose while her mouth let out a purr so soft that his ears finally became lax. His tears stopped acidifying his face and slowly warmed it up as his lips stretched to reach the lil' head of hers. Landing a soft blow, the cat purred and his ears were soothed; bouncing the dread off of them and giving dread a wake-up call as his mind began stabilizing. His knees being the only points on the floor, his hands picked up and cuddled his wife-turned cat softly; the cat only knowing how to meow or purr without a clue on how to speak like her human companion. His hands striking the fur, the cat's body forced another purr out but to which his ears could finally decipher the gibberish of mere purring gibberish.

"Honey, say that again but more in my style. Can we try that at least?"

"Purr~ Y-yes, Wi-wi-wi- meow."

"All is not lost Honey! Now continue on and struggle against being only a cat!"

"Purr, purr!~ I-I-I-It was horrible. Pe-pe-people came wi-wi-wi with weird b-book"

"Tell me more all about it!"

"Meow, meow~ came and sh-shock the rooms, including me-"

"Into cats?"

A soft boop landed on his nose before her mouth let out a hiss, forcing his legs to take primacy over the knees as his ears heard more purring. The walls began emitting and echoing all sorts of cat noises as his wife-cat plopped to the floor, the wooden-floor none-the-wiser and singing a soft graceful landing. Then rags tussled-n-bustled in the open air, floating to the terror of his eyes a book came puking out slowly from the dark-n-empty hood. The arm pieces self-animating, his legs sprinted to the back doors and his hands Herculian'd the door but it remained glued tightly to the wall. Then his knees forced him to a submission, his arms clasping, his eyes welling up again and his voice-box stuttering. The book pages sang their flaps as the hooded-n-floating figure re-centered their mass in front of Willigan, husband to a wife that was found herself into a cat.

"Lord! Give me a sign!~"

And the hooded-n-floating rags froze in place before the hood piece cocked back-n-spazzed with a cackle running a muck in the air. The arm pieces of the rags raising up, light pulsating out from the rags as bouts of sparks jolted the air before the great bolt came racing to him. Time took a leisurely stroll as his eyes recorded every second he had on Earth as Willigan, perfect unit of Levittown with a quiet wife in a quiet town. The bolt soon caressed each skin cell before the great dive into his insides, each voltage hurting all the same. Finally, his body began morphing and his mind finally gave out as his eyes began failing him with his ears hearing all the obscenities other than the lightning coursing in him.

With the last moments of any thought racing in his brain-sack, all he could dare ponder is why the cherry pie smell got strong when the rags came by. Finally clicking it, his brain-sack fully shut off and the blackness encapsulated him as the lightning coursed all throughout the body. The floating rags cross-armed, the book came sliming back into the hood piece; with a chuckle soon racing from the hood, the rags floated towards the still opened doors to the outside airs. The head cocking back and a weird rattle cacophony coming out, the rags continued to float. But with the task done, the rags knew not where to go nor what to do next; two kitties came racing out, purring as their heads nuzzled on the rags. The thought racing about, another chuckle came racing out as the rags shot to the sky while leaving a dust-cloud in its place. Wherever it went, the two cared not as they nuzzled their noses while cat-walking back inside, the floor singing grace with each of their steps.

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Two Things: I've been on a commenting rampage on all curie-liked posts and I love all the replies I've gotten from the authors so far.

So should I say more than the fact that Willigan was indeed not the right man in the wrong place but was the wrong man in the right place? Or the fact that I've actually created this story in under an hour and decided to fully post this now - leaving all potential grammar mistakes unfixed? Or the fact that Ragsy Rags McRag got no name and wasn't slapped with a he, she or they? Or even the fact that I am just asking questions to see if your reading the end blurb?... Who knows, not me. I'm sure not the Man who sold the World. But I know q one is yes, q two is time-wise correct, q three is a q you should ask always when you even think of a serious character and q four is only true if you've managed to get here at this point. So good job, pat thyself on the back and completely forget this post like you've down with other Steemit posts. But remember this: have a good day/evening!~ c:

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The Cat's dialogue, brilliant.

UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments!

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Hi! It's me again! Your descriptive narrative is exquisite.

My native language is not English. But, I manage. There are some words I didn't understand. Both of them became cats? That was unfortunate. But they will live happily together as cats, I hope.

~UwU~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments!~ English be not my native language, and I would have to learn it without the aide of parents and with a speech impediment as a kiddo. Regardless, both of them turned into cats at the end of story and here here to that hope as well.

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You are doing very well with the English language. All your efforts have given a good result

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