Dean Jackson isn’t particularly superstitious (he’s only a little stitious), so when Friday the 13th arrived, he thought nothing of it and went about his regular day. Woke up, drove to the stadium for his summer training regimen, got lunch... normal stuff, and it all happene remarkably normal. There was literally nothing abnormal about the day. Eventually night came, and Jackson went to sleep: happy, satisfied with a great day..... and unsuspecting. He awoke to a loud crash. The clock read 3am as he quietly slipped out of bed and put his ear to the closed door of his bedroom. For a minute there was nothing, and he began to relax, when a dreadful, bloodcurdling shrieking began! If it was a robber, it must be an undead one. Jackson grabbed his rifle off the wall with one hand and began to dial 911 with the other. He flung open his bedroom door and moved quickly and efficiently down the hallway, getting ever-closer to the demonic sound... he rounded the corner into his livingroom and froze as he made eye contact with the beast. A single black cat sat in the middle of the room. The shrieking stopped. The cat, never breaking eye contact, raised its leg and took a piss. Then, it slunk up the sofa, through the newly-broken window it must’ve come through, and silently departed. Jackson looked around. “What the fuck.”
(233 words)
(233 words)
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