Werecat Story Idea

[DemonSlayerMau]

This is just an idea so far, but I had an idea about a werecat story, and it's a bit of a "romance thriller" you could say.
The story starts out with a typical american athiest guy named Kevin Slash, and he comes to a town called Cheshire town. He's a skilled hunter, doesn't believe in God or anything paranormal, and is looking for big game, which he hears there's big challenging game in the surrounding woods of the town.
So he comes there around fall time, probably around the time of Halloween, but he keeps getting warned by the villagers not to go into the woods, especially at night. "There are creatures out there, neither man nor wolf." Werewolves? Kevin would just laugh it off as being pure myth and folklore.
So he goes out into the woods at night, and gets attacked by a pack of werewolves. They get his poor doggy, but as he's running another dark figure comes bounding toward him, but this figure doesn't look like a wolf...this one looks like a cat! The werecat fights off the werewolves and sends the pack fleeing. The werecat reveals herself as a woman named Ashura, she resembles an african american woman, and has a companion cat who she can communicate with. She askes the cat to bring some wolfs bane because Kevin was bitten, the wolfsbane would stop him from becoming a werewolf.
Ashura and Kevin end up falling in love, and the reader will learn about the origin of the werecats, and why there aren't that many left. What happened was, vampires (who aren't seen in this story because vampires live in the cities...I may make this into a series so that you will see more vampires) and werewolves, while they view humans as prey and hate each other, they hate the werecats even more. Werecats were chosen by bastet and given special powers to defend human beings. But Werewolves and Vampires are both cursed. Vampires are typically stuck up though and they don't view themselves as cursed, they just see the werecats as being in their way. But the werewolves are jealous of the werecats.
So since vampires and werewolves share a hatred of the werecats, they teamed up and created a Werepire, a monsterous creation that not even the powerful werecats could defeat. So, when werecats were seen as defeated, the vampires and werewolves simply agreed to stay out of each other's way. Werewolves went into the woods, vampires into the cities. Ashura thinks she's the last of her kind, but in future stories you will learn that there are other werecats out there.
Something tragic will also happen at the end of the story, and Kevin will become a werecat.

[OctoberChill]

Let's see; a story with vampires, werewolves and other crypto-creatures AND a skeptic learning the truth the hard way. Count me in. That's something I would definitely read. Shall we expect monthly installments to be posted here on the board?

[DemonSlayerMau]

It's a story I'd love to publish, but if I ever got around to writing it, sure I'll probably post it here. Haha.
Heck, it'd make a great graphic novel as well.
There may be some stuff that's a little mature, like language, so I'd have to okay it with halloweencom first, or else make an "edited" version.

[Pumpkin_Man]

When I was in high school, they actualy had a story writing contest where we were allowed to use our teachers as the characters. I actualy won it, quite unespectedly. My story was about the band master and his wife, both of whom were music teachers at my school. They were avid cat lovers, so my story was about how they turned into cats, went out in search of unsuspectinf victims, punnced on them, drank all of their blood, and then the victims would turn into cats and come to their house to "haunt" them. "Citpires" was the tiele of my story. This, of course, was back in the mid 70s, when the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa was still big news.

The story ended with the line..."So all you perspective music students or faculty members should find yourselvs over ar Mr. (Name withehd) house for a visit, beware! That cute little tabby who walks down the piano keyboard might be the late Amelia Aerheart, or that large Siamese rubbign his head against your leg could be Jimmy Hoffa."

The real awdward moment is that they announced the winner while I was in band practice, and read the story allowed over the school intercom system.

Mike

[DemonSlayerMau]

Sounds like a good story, you still have a copy of it somewhere?
Reading it over the intercom though...man...that must've been embarressing!

[Pumpkin_Man]

It would have been embarassing enough, but they read it over the intercom while I was in band practice, the same class as the teacher I wrote about. Everyone was having a laughing fit as the read how the band master and his wife and daughter all transformed into house cats, attacked this guy, drained all his blood and how he turned into a cat and came back to haunt them.

On the bright side, I did win a 25 dollar McDonalds gift certifiquit and I got an "A" in English.

I do have that story some place burried in all my memorabillia. Rember this was written in October of 1976, and I didn't even own a manual typewriter in those days, so if I do find it, I'll have to copy it word for word, and it's written in long hand. And my hand wroting, to put it politely is THE PITS. And Of course, I will have to change the names of the teachers, but if I find it, I'll post it.

Mike

[DemonSlayerMau]

Hey even if you have to change the names of the teachers, I'd still like to read it. It sounds like a great and horrific story. And involving cats, evil malicious blood thirsty cats.
Of course, you don't HAVE to share it but I would love to read it. It sounds like a neat story.
And you can't beat a 25 dollar mcdonalds gift card. Back in the 70s that would've stretched pretty far. Not that I would know, but my mom said she could get a burger and fries for...I think she said $1.09 or something.
I could only imagine the looks on the band teacher's face hearing the story. But I would think the gift card would've been worth the embarrassment. My bad habit is thinking with my stomach. Haha.
I need to write my werecat story...my werecats aren't necessarily malicious unless they are fighting vampires and werewolves...and truth be told both nightmarish creatures are afraid of the werecats. That's because the werecat power is sacred, whereas the vampire and werewolf powers are the result of a curse.

[Pumpkin_Man]

Well, Demonslayer, I don't think my story was as much as a hottor story as it was more of a joke, but if I can find it in and amongst my high school memorbilia, I'll make the necessary changes and post it. The title of my story is "Catpires." So watch for it over the weekend.

Back in the 70s, a 25 dollar gift certificuit was a big deal. I bough dinner for my Mom, Dad, brothers and sisters and myself with that gift card. As far as thinking with your stomach is concerned, I invented that for all intent purposes. Back then, McDonalds Quarter Pounders and Big Macks were better then they are today IMHO. That could be because I'm older, but I think they tasted better personaly.

But anyway, I will search for "Catpires" make all the necessary changes, and post it to this thread.

Mike

[DemonSlayerMau]

Who knows, maybe by next Halloween I'll have my story written. Hahaha.
In any case, I look forward to reading "Catpires"
And yeah, I'll bet it did stretch pretty far in the 70s. Everything always seems to go up and up and up and the prices never seem to go down.
Well, perhaps hopefully with the way the economy is right now, things will have to start going down.

[Pumpkin_Man]

Okay, I could not find my story as my memorbilia box is burried under all kinds of junk and I just finished getting my house in order for Holy Week and Easter, so I'm just going to have to 'wing it.' All names of people, the shool and town have been changed in order to avoid any potential problems.


Enjoy.

"Catpires"

It was a crisp October day when Mr. Bartoli handed out the music that we would be playing at the Halloween Parade the following week. We were out on the football field so we could practice our maching while learning our music. Mr. Bartoli, the band master, Mrs Bartoli his wife and choir director and his daughter, Diana Bartoli, one of the hottest babes in the school, were all very particular about both music and marching as we were all to learn. I, being the only trombone player knew this more than anyone else. And the Bandmaster wanted to be sure that St. Thomas Aquinas High would take first place for marching bands in the Weatherby Town Halloween Parade. We all got in formation, and began first marching in place to "The Liberty Bell." I was doing okay, and then suddenly I had to sneeze. I was too late getting the trombone away from my mouth, and the horn let out a horrendous bellow that could rival a space shuttle take-off. "Did you have to do that here?" Mr. Bartoli asked sarcastcly. "I'm Sorry" I answered. "I had to sneeze and I didn't get the horn away from my mout......" I was cut off by loud laughter and a joke from Mr. Bartoli. We went on with our lesson, and things went prtty smoothly after that.

The dayh went on rather uneventfully. I had tons of Geometry Homework, an English composition due by the end of the week, and my girlfriend was getting on me about taking her to see "Saturday Night Fever" at the Weatherby Theatre the next Saturday. I had to cut her off short, however as it occured to me that I had my private lesson with Mr. Bartoli that Saturday. Heather Baxter, my girlfriend at the time thought I was two-timing her with Diana Bartoli. What she didn't know is that Diana Bartoli had no interest in me what so ever. In fact, all the Bartolies, as I would find out, were hiding a secret. A diabolical, sinister and horifying secret that I only found out quite by accident.

Saturday came along, and it was time to go to my lesson. I didn't want to go, because the Bartolis house was full of cats. There was a litter box in the bathroom, two on their back porch, and even one in the kitchen.l Everywhere you looked, a tabby was streching out on a chair, a persian cat would be scratching his ear on the piano bench, or a siamese cat would be quizzacly looking down upon everyone from the fire place mantal. The constant meawing and youling was enought to drive one stark raving mad. I could not understand how three world class musicians could stand all thet screcfhing. They seemingly leraned to tune it out. Anyway, I got my trombone out, and Mrs bartoli seated herself at the piano. Diana Bartoli left the house with two of her girlfriends, much to my relief as my trombone playing in high school was a bit of an embarassment, hence the need for private lessons every other Saturday. I finaly did manage to learn my pieces to the Bartolis approval, however, and was dismissed from my lesson on time to pick up Heather for the movies. I leaft, and we went. She loved "Saturday Night Fever," I hated it.

Meanwhile her brother was out cruising in his G.T. O. when the engine decided to throw a rod. Not suprising as he was in the habbit of doing hole-shots all the time, and almost never has that car under 80 mph. He also loved to consantly revv his eigine, and this night it would have a detrimental affect as one of the pushrods came lose from it's rocker arm and shot right through the engine block. Smoke and oil gushed from the crippled G.T.O. Mr. Bartoli's house was not too far away, and being a member of the band, figured that his teacher would let him use the phone for a ride and a tow truck. That would be the last time Jerry Baxter would ever be seen or heard from again.

The sun had gone down, and the sky was a very dark blue. A full moon shined down upon the old house as Jerry rang the door bell. "Come in" Mrs Bartoli said politely. She had an odd smile on her face. Jerry felt uneasy at the look he was getting from Mrs Bartoli and her husband. Jerry walked in and closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry to disturb you Mr. and Mrs Bartoli, butg my car...." Jerry gasped. Diana Bartgoli was standing behing him blocking the front door. Fangs protruded from her mouth as she began to transform. She fiendishly hissed as the transformation continued. Jerry turned back to the band master and his wife, only to see that the same horifying transformation taking place in them as well. Then they began to shrink down in size. Their faces and bodies grew fir. Tales sprouted from their back sides, and when the transformation, all the Bartolis were cats. "Holy Mother of...." Jery thought. Then the larg black cat that was Mr. Bartoli lunged at his face, imediately digging his claws into Jerry's eye. As Jerry struggled with Mr. Bartoli, the cat that was Mrs Bartoli jumped and gripped him by the small of the back and started digging her fangs into the back of his neck. Jerry ran for the door, but the cat that was Diana Bartolkdug her claws into Jerrys Ankle and started sinking her fangs into his 'Achilies Tendon.' Jerry fell to the ground horified and screaming. Blood started to gush from where the cats that attcked him, and they drank every drop. Jerry was dead within 10 minutes fo the attack. The body completely drained of blood, the Bartolies began to regain their human shape. "We better get rid of the body" said Mr. Bartoli. "Why?" diane asked. "He's only going to come back to haunt us anyway. "I realize that Diana, but he will be a cat by then. Let's dump the body and when he comes back to haunt us as a cat, the neighbors will only see a cat instead of a dead body of a boy.

About a week after the news papers reported on the disappearancfe of Jerry Baxter, a large white cat with black spots was seen by the Dean of Students and Spanish Teacher of St. Thomas Aquinas High. They had come over for a visit as the often did entertain their fellow faculty members. That was common practice in Weatherby Illinois for all educators as education was the town's number one priority. They all felt bad about Jerry Baxter, Pat Murpy, Joanna MrFealy, and many other kids who disappeared, and wondered what the police were doing about it.

So all you good folks of St. Thomas Aquinas beware! When you visit Mr. and Mrs Bartoli, be sure the sun is still up, and that there is no full moon. Take care of your car, and don't break down in Weatherby, especialy on a crisp October night. If you do visit the Bartoli Residence, remember to seek well of those who have disappeared, and be sensitive to who could be hearing what you are saying. After all, the tabby you see prancing down the keyboard of the piano could be the long lost Ameila Aerheart, and that large siamese rubbing his head against your leg could be the long lost Jimmy Hoffa.

The End.

[DemonSlayerMau]

Well, I read your catpires story. It does remind me of some kind of werecats, I really enjoyed it. To be honest, I don't think I would mind coming back from the dead as a cat.
I got a bit confused though, how did the main character of the story figure out what happened to Jerry Baxter?
Also...it'd be neat if there was a sequel where the cats rise up and get revenge on Mr. Bartoli and the other catpires. After all, they did come back to haunt them as cats.

[Pumpkin_Man]

Please keep in mind, that this story was original done as an English Asignment when I was a sophmore in High School. I wrote it in the "First Person" perspective because it was a requirement for the contest. We were studying various litteray perspectives. Secondly, I was trying to be funny more then I was trying to be scary, hence the litter box references and the one-liner about Jimmy Hoffa. Jerry Baxter was not the real name of any person, but his character was based on a guy who actualy did own a G.T.O, and he was prond to drag racing, and his car actualy did throw a rod in real life. But he didn't disappear or anything like th at. He's alive today, and owns an auto parts story.

This story, in short, was something totaly contrived, and I never expected to win the contest that it was involved. I did have fun writing it, and I got a lot of laughs from my class mates, and Mr. Bartoli (not his real name) and his wife and daughter, (both of whome were also not named with their real names) kidded me around a bit, but all in all it was in good fun.

Mike

[DemonSlayerMau]

I understand. I wish I could find some of the stories and poems I wrote in highschool and middle school. It was pretty funny, although it was a bit creepy, but then again I like creepy stuff.
I got around to starting my WereCat story. So far it's pretty appropriate but whatever isn't appropriate, I can always censor it for the purpose of the site. Like I said, I'd love for this to become a published novel.
Here's the first part of the story...nothing really exciting happening yet...but this is just the opening of the story:

The crisp cool air of mid October could be felt through the windows of his 1990 Dodge Ram, as Kevin Slash slowed down for the speed zone on the old country road that lead to Cheshire Town, New York. Ripper, his 3 year old German Sheppard happily wagged his tail and panted as he looked out the window excitedly, ready to run after nearly six hours on the road.
“Calm down there boy.” Kevin chuckled as he placed a brown leather gloved hand over Ripper’s head to give him a good pat. “We’re almost there.”
“Woof!” was Ripper’s typical response, and he retrieved his tan-ish brown paws from the edge of the window. Kevin knew he was excited, as hunting season was right around the corner.
The smell of the fall leaves and the fresh air brought pleasant sensations to his nostrils, smells of the forest that would remind him of home when he was just a boy. “Just think boy.” He said speaking to his canine companion. “The wild game is real big in these parts, a right challenge. Perhaps this year we’ll have a great big buck to mount over our mantle when we return to the Ranch.”
“Woof!” A wag of the tail and Ripper’s happy barking meant his approval. To Kevin there was nothing like man’s best friend, a loving and loyal companion.
He shifted his gear into 2nd and pulled the rust covered dodge ram into the driveway, shifting into 1st as he went to park. It was early in the morning, approximately 8:04 AM as he opened up the doors to the truck. The dog barked happily and jumped out onto the cold pavement. Kevin reached into the back and pulled out his luggage and his favorite rifles, and headed toward the lodge that he had got to rent at a reasonable price. There were a few other houses along the road, a small gas station a couple houses down with a Cheshire Cat sign hanging on a poll nearby, the gas prices not looking so reasonable at $3.45 a gallon. Across the road was a rather strange looking shop titled “Madam Ashura’s Natural Herbs and Unique gifts, and next to that a small diner. Several houses down to the other side were a small fire station and town hall, and last but not least an old white church building titled “United Methodist Church of Cheshire town.” There wasn’t a single department or convenient store in site, but fortunately Kevin had packed a steady supply of food with him, and whatever he ran out of could easily be replaced at the gas station.
Taking a few moments to unlock the door and bring in his luggage, Kevin took a look around. There were animal skins hanging about, a buck mantled over the fire place, and a large bear skin rug.
The décor consisted of bones, and animals that had been stuffed. Even the furniture seemed to be made out of fur and bones. Kevin chuckled. “A man after my own heart.” Hanging over the top was an old fashioned type of lamp, and he pulled the switch to light up the room some more. It was a bit dusty and full of cob webs, but Kevin remembered that the old man hadn’t been to the cabin in a couple years.
To the left was a small kitchen set up, consisting of a small walk way and a divider that looked like a small bar. There consisted of an old brown refrigerator that looked like it was made back in the 50’s, and an old fashioned wood stove. Next to the fridge was an oak wood table with two matching chairs, with barely any space between the fridge and the table, with the wood stove next to the window. A small kitchen sink rested next to the right of the stove, and to the right of the sink was a trash can. Oak cupboards could be seen at the top. Being 6’0” tall, reaching them wouldn’t be a problem. He looked inside, seeing dusty cans which he knew couldn’t really be any good. Immediately he took them out and tossed them into the trash.
Next he headed up a few steps and down a small walk way that consisted of two bed rooms.
“Well? Which one do you want?” He asked Ripper.
“Woof!”
“Oh no, I’m getting the bigger one.” He chuckled and patted his faithful canine over the head. The dog made a whining noise. “I know I know. You always sleep at the foot of my bed at home. That’s alright boy, we can bunk into the bigger room.”
The dog appeared to smile while sitting down and panting. Kevin went back downstairs and noticed a door next to the steps that he hadn’t been into yet. But when he opened it up it was quite obvious; this was the bathroom.
It took about an hour to get everything unpacked and settled down. He poured Ripper some kibble and water into a couple of stainless steel dishes. Now that Ripper was fed and content to find a spot on the bear rug by the fire place, Kevin decided to go out for breakfast that morning and meet some of the locals. He walked out the door and locked the place up leaving Ripper to snooze, and walked toward the local diner.
He hadn’t noticed earlier that the place had closed down due to a mysterious disappearance of the owner, and was quite puzzled by the sign. “Welp, so much for breakfast...eh?”
He had heard a strange vibrating noise and felt something brush against his leg. He looked down and frowned. It was a long fluffy black and gray tail, which belonged to a rather long haired cat consisting of matching tabby stripes. The rather large cat looked up at him with emerald green eyes that seemed to stare right into his soul. He stepped back a bit and attempted to shoo the cat away, Kevin had always been a dog person and was never all that fond of cats.
“C’mere Maahes.” A gentle voice could be heard, and Kevin looked up to see a young woman standing about 5’4”, with long black hair, brown eyes, and dark skin.

[Nostalgiascape]

This is a good plot. A special breed of protectors, unapreciated but loyal are under the gun from two evil breeds. Vampires and Werewolves. And because Werecats are close to extinct, thats why you have never heard of them in lore. Nice idea. But I hope there is a way for the Werecats to eventually increase in numbers over time.

[Pumpkin_Man]

There actualy was a story about people who transform into tigers or some other type of a big cat. "Cat People" I think the title was. There was a remake out in the 80s that was based on earlier flick. It was a pretty good story, but you don't hear too much about it now a days.

Mike