The Cursed Night

The voice laughingly advice on how to proceed: "You can call me Murray, Delighted that you join this for good. The other alternative is not so nice."

You confuse without knowing very well what or what you have to do, you scratch your head with your hind legs.

Murray patiently instructs you: "Let yourself go. Don't think just use your senses, sniff the air. Your inner feline will come out on its own."

You try to sigh, but something like a purr comes out of your throat instead; the midnight breeze makes you feel more alive than ever. So alive, that you found yourself trotting around like an aimless pup, feeling the soft grass beneath your hooves.

Everything is so new and exciting, you sniff around perceiving otters, hares and other prey you are dying to sink your teeth on. Until something sweet and delicate makes that your beast's instinct takes control disaggregated any human morality.

Your body takes the reigns and you gallop towards the corpses, the source of that sweet and magnificent smell, food.

Your huge claws and teeth tear the meat with the precision of a butcher and soon, only the powerful noises of your frenetic chewing can be heard in the pine forest

I should feel disgusted, or regret something. But, the only thing I feel is an immense pleasure. Nothing compares to this nor sex, nor drugs nor even embezzle something from someone without being caught. It is a raw sensation, so overwhelming, sensing how I am absorbing the energy of the bandits' corpses as its flesh and blood nourishes me.

In the end, the only thing left of the feast is the viscera and half-eaten smashed marrowless bones; you lie down for a moment, resting your heavy stomach like a good kitten totally satisfied.

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