His mother especially loved cats. Different colors, but most of them were short haired, and Victor liked them.

One black cat was his favorite. When he was lying in the bed, night or day, the cat came to him and lay by his side. It purred very loud and melodically, and Victor loved to pet and caress it and feel its small muscular body.

* * * * *

He was on his shift when the awful fire had happened. Both of his parents and almost the all animals died. His favorite cat was gone too.

However, some cats ran away, later he saw some of them in the local shelter. As a policeman, Victor often delivered street cats and lost dogs there, and he wanted to believe his pet survived that fire.

After the tragedy Victor became a monk, yet he still loved animals and dearly wanted to have at least one of them.

The cenobites were looking for a secluded place for their community and finally, it seemed that good luck smiled upon them. They found the information about a town through the Internet. Five years ago all citizens left this town suddenly, without explanation.

Patrick, the leader, and Victor checked the town out. The church in the town was still in good condition and all communications were easily set up, so the monks decided to move here.

But why did the residents leave? The friends did know that, so for the security reasons they all had firearms with them all the time, and preferred to stay in the same building, near the church.

It was 6:35 p.m. and Victor went for a little walk. He went slowly along the streets, as he had done many times in his town. Abandoned buildings looked strange and gloomy.

Suddenly a tiny black animal ran by a house. Victor noticed it, and sighed, recalling his pet. Although he knew how careful any cats, especially street cats were, Victor automatically called it: "Here, kitty-kitty-kitty!" To his surprise, the cat did come to him.

Of course, it was not his cat, it was a very young animal, about six or eight months old. Victor thought this was why it came to his call and allowed him to take it in his arms.

But when he came close to the church, the animal started to show worry and finally jumped out of his arms.

Victor did not want to force it to stay. He knew cats did not like new places. He went to the building and got a few pieces of chicken, then came back. The cat was still there. Victor fed it and smiled with pleasure, watching how the hungry animal was eating greedily.

Since that time the cat started to wait for him every evening and Victor was feeling happy.

Another monk, Tracy, was an inveterate cameraman and recorded how Victor fed and patted the cat and played with it. But probably the film was defective, because instead of images of his new pet, there were just black shapeless spots.

Victor wanted very much that cat to lie in his bed, as he had in his town, however, the animal never came close to the building, where the cenobites now lived. And finally Victor asked Patrick, the leader, about permission to spend nights by himself in another house. Patrick did not see anything wrong with the idea and allowed it.

Victor chose the house near where he met the cat the first time.

That night he lay down on the bed in that house and called the cat.

The animal looked confused. It seemed it was concerned and hesitated. Once it even hissed at the monk, and Victor thought with worry, maybe it was sick.

But finally, the cat jumped onto the bed, curled itself up into a ball and started purring, and Victor smiled with happiness.

* * * * *
Patrick and Tracy slowly passed the house.

"I can't understand Victor," Tracy shrugged his shoulders. "How can he sleep here, alone, in a ghost town, with a black cat..."

The friends involuntarily looked at the building. Strange, reddish light glowed from the bedroom window.

"My God!" Patrick gasped. "It's a fire!"

They ran into the house and burst into Victor's bedroom.

They stopped, they screamed with horror, and they then realized, why the citizens left this town, after such a monster took up residence here.

It, what bent over Victor, was not a cat, not a panther, not a woman, not a She-Devil, not a Sphinx. It was all of them at once.

Its tender girl face was turned to the monks. The glowing slanted eyes of the creature did not show any fear. Bright white fangs flashed in its mouth when it licked its lips. Swishing its long snake-like tail, the beast stretched its limbs, and the cenobites saw its huge claws.

The monks grabbed their guns and started shooting. Their bullets, made from church silver, should kill any creature whether from Earth or Hell.

Its screech made them deaf for a while. Victor sprang up, the monks stopped firing, and they were afraid to wound their friend.

Victor gasped, he stared at the creature, wriggling in the middle of the room.

"Why did you shoot it?" he asked, shocked.

The friends became confused. Really, why? It did not harm Victor, and probably would have not. But it looked so unusual... So scary... Yes, looked.

A light smoke rose from it and now only a motionless body of a small dead cat was lying on the floor.

Victor took it into his arms, hugged it and cried bitterly. The friends looked at him with compassion, but only animal lovers would be able to understand his grief.

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