Penny's Tales

Horror stories, narrations and illustrations by Penny Tailsup
Penny's Tales
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    • I am so scared of the cats [Short Horror Story]

      Posted at 12:55 am by Penny Tailsup, on January 11, 2019
      I used to work for NOAH Research Group. The name NOAH stands for ‘NO Animals Harmed’, the guiding principle of the organization.  NOAH’s founder, Dr. Rose, was a devout Christian and an advocate for animal rights.

      The name NOAH was also a nod to a question she was famous for asking:  If Noah had two of every animal on the ark, why didn’t the predators eat the prey?
      The nonreligious scoffed at the question, but Dr. Rose felt that the story of Noah’s ark was proof that everyone, animals included, should be vegan.  Science could make her vision of a vegan world possible, while still enabling carnivores to co-exist in the new world.

      NOAH’s first project was to produce and test  the first nutritionally complete, 100% safe vegan cat food. No animals would be harmed, not by slaughterhouses or malnutrition. Vegans would no longer worry about the ethical implications of cat ownership. Although vegan cat foods already existed, most vets concluded that they were too risky. A vegan diet can kill a cat if you’re not careful, which was why the project was so important. Dr. Rose needed to prove it was possible for everyone to be vegan, even carnivores.

      I worked nights in NOAH’s Portland-based facility, mainly cleaning out litter boxes and playing with the test subjects. It was a minimum-wage gig, but I  liked it because I was able to work while enjoying the company of cats. I knew about the vegan cat food project, though I was skeptical of it. I’m not vegan. I don’t judge people who are, but it seemed weird to expect cats to live that way. In a word, it seemed… unnatural.

      Still, the cats were treated very well. The facility didn’t confine them to cages or kennels; instead, the cats lived comfortably in large habitats with plexiglass observation windows. Every couple weeks, a vet would come and do check ups. NOAH took their oath to never harm animals very seriously, going to great lengths to ensure that the cats weren’t mistreated.

      I was hired when Harold was fired. The security guard told me the story, a cautionary tale: Harold wasn’t vegan. He packed beef stew for dinner every night… and shared it with the cats when no one was looking. As a result, the research was compromised and had to be started over from scratch. NOAH fired him and enacted a ‘No Outside Food’ policy.

      The vending machines were stocked with vegan options only: mixed nuts, fruit and vegetable sticks… so I ate before my shift. I usually felt compelled to eat the meatiest thing I could find, as if the mere thought of being vegan made me crave meat and cheese.

      All hell broke loose the night I broke the ‘no outside food’ rule. I was running late for work, so I went to a drive thru and grabbed a burger on the way over. I didn’t think about it when I ordered a triple cheeseburger, extra cheese, extra bacon. I shoved the greasy bag into my work duffel and forgot about it. When I got to work, security waved me through without checking. My nights there had long become routine.

      Once I reached the first habitat, the cats crowded the door. The clowder seemed smaller than usual, which was weird but not alarming. There were plenty of comfortable and secluded napping spots for the cats to laze about, though they were usually excited to see me– my arrival meant freshly cleaned litter boxes and playtime.

      I dropped my bag by the door, and got to work. As you can imagine, it was a lot of cat poop. Once I was done, I noticed the cats were still crowding the door. They were investigating my bag, sharpening their claws on the denim and even chewing on it. Sophie, a fluffy white cat, tried to drag it off with her. I was surprised that she’d managed to move it a few inches!

      That’s when I remembered the triple cheeseburger. Apparently, the smell had attracted the attention of the cats. I can only speculate that the smell of meat was extra tempting thanks to their strict vegan diet.

      “Sorry kitties, that’s against the rules.” I reached for my bag guiltily. When I tried to pick it up, Sophie started to growl and wouldn’t let go. Instead, she dug in deeper– her whole body rumbling with warning. I’d never seen that kind of aggression before, so I backed off.

      I didn’t want to lose my job, so I attempted to coax the cats away from the bag with a laser pointer. No dice. They completely ignored it. Their dilated pupils were focused entirely on my duffel, backs arched and tails pointing straight up. Tentatively, I reached for the bag again– this time, there was no warning.

      Sophie was the first to lunge, teeth and claws biting deep into my forearm! I screamed in pain and flung my arm out, flailing wildly until she let go. Undeterred, she came right back– tearing at my stomach, yanking and shaking her head from side to side… I was terrified that she’d rip me open!

      I stumbled towards the door as more sets of teeth and claws found their mark. I lost count as they attacked, feral shrieks mixing with my screams. I’d been bitten and scratched by cats before, but not like this. Cats don’t normally attack humans with the intent to kill, but the NOAH cats were an exception.

      Security came running, only to stare in horror– they did not enter the enclosure. Panicking, I stopped, dropped and rolled… as if I were on fire instead of covered in vicious, spitting cats. The tactic worked, they scattered to avoid being crushed. I didn’t give them a chance to move back in, running towards the door as the guards snapped out of their shock, flinging the door open and quickly slamming it behind me. A few of the more tenacious cats threw themselves bodily into the door, beating themselves against it several times before giving up.

      I was a bloody mess, my skin reduced to ribbons… but the pain didn’t catch up right away. I stared through the Plexiglass window, watching in horror when the cats descended on my duffel, pulling it apart. They found the burger and chewed straight through the paper, knocking one another aside in competition for it. They divided their ‘kill’, jealously guarding bits of burger and strips of bacon that quickly disappeared in their frenzy. Once the burger was gone, they licked the blood off the floor with eager, lapping tongues.

      The collective purr I heard was chilling.

      An ambulance was called, and I spent a night in the hospital. I wasn’t surprised when I was fired the following morning.  Fortunately, the severance pay was more like a settlement. On paper, NOAH blamed me for the incident… they said I provoked the attack, and that I’d violated company policy. To be honest, I didn’t care. I didn’t fight it because I was relieved I’d never have to go back. I don’t know what happened to the cats at the facility, I can only assume that the research has continued without me.

      I only recently learned what happened to Dr. Rose, but I can’t say I’m surprised. The vegan cat-enthusiast had fourteen cats… and she’d been feeding them the same cat food NOAH was testing. Although she cherished her cats, and they had reportedly been happy and well-fed…there wasn’t enough of Dr. Rose left to determine her cause of death.

      I don’t know what was in that cat food, but it might be in stores by now. Please research the food you buy for your pets very carefully, not only is it in their best interest… it might be in yours.

      NOAH is still operating without Dr. Rose. I don’t think their mission is the same.

       

      Posted in Short Stories [Horror] | 0 Comments | Tagged cat, cat food, cats, creepy, creepypasta, fiction, horror, NOAH, nosleep, nosleep takeover, research, short story, study, vegan, veganism
    • Neon Nylon Strings – Scary Short Story

      Posted at 4:08 am by Penny Tailsup, on September 8, 2018

      No time? Listen to my narration instead by clicking this link!

      I’ve always had an aversion to the cracks between things.

      You know– tiny, dark spaces where a hand barely fits, but often ventures—in search of something lost.  It’s always something important you lose in those places, isn’t it? Car keys, a watch, a cell phone—things that will have you groping the darkness without much thought.

      The worst for me was the cracks in the couch, those narrow pockets of darkness. It wasn’t a rational fear, but knowing that didn’t help. I took measures to avoid searching there, obsessively keeping track of my things so I wouldn’t lose them in the first place.

      For example, my keys always hung in the same place, and my cell phone was either charging or clipped to my pants. The television remote took a little more ingenuity; even though I had a place for it, it always had a way of ending up between the cushions. I’d know exactly where it was, and go fishing in the cracks with a pair of tongs because I couldn’t bear sticking my hand down there.

      I was tired of living like that, I hated myself for being afraid of something so benign. I couldn’t help it though, I had an instinct that all the logic in the world couldn’t shake.

      I thought I’d found the perfect solution when I found the string.

      Braided neon nylon—I bought a spool of orange, the color of construction crews and traffic cones. I tied a string around the remote, leaving six feet of length to dangle and drape over the coffee table.

      It worked beautifully.

      The remote was always easy to find, that string was easy to see. When the remote inevitably found its way between couch cushions, I’d reel in the string at a strategic angle. It worked well, why wouldn’t I try it with other things too?

      I bought more neon nylon string, several spools in different colors: orange, yellow and green. I tied them to everything small and easily lost. My headphones, my charger, the kitchen scissors… even the salt and pepper shakers!

      It worked so well, I brought the strategy out of the house too. I tied the yellow strings to things that should always be on my person; my phone, my keys, my wallet…  if I ever saw yellow, I’d know I lost something. My pockets were always bulging with balls yellow string; for peace of mind, it was a small price to pay.

      At work, I tied green strings to things that fall in that space between the wall and the desk; the pens, tape and stapler. It was an orderly chaos, those neon nylon strings. There was a method to my madness, but no one else understood it.

      When my boss called me into the office about the complaints, I did my best to explain. He didn’t get it, but he couldn’t make me stop. I could do whatever I wanted, so long as the items were my personal property and I wasn’t tying them on company time.

      With time, my house resembled an art project rather than a living space. Bright orange strings draped across every surface, in every direction—carefully laid out, strategically placed. Walking around become an exercise in balance and flexibility, but still… it was worth it.

      Of course, there is no such thing as a perfect solution; the problems with this method of organization began to present themselves before long.

      The strings tangled; it became hard to tell which strings attached to what. I spent a lot of time maintaining, untangling everything and monitoring the cracks between things to see if any thread lead into the dark.

      I stopped inviting people over, it was too tiring to explain. No explanation I could give seemed adequate. I knew it was strange, but it made me feel safer. I was in complete control, the puppet master in this colorful world.

      There were other problems too; the slightest movement would cause a chain reaction, the strings constantly quivered and rustled softly with only the slightest touch—even a breeze through an open window was enough to cause constant motion. I always saw movement in my periphery, only to realize it was the string when I turned to check.

      At night, I’d wake up because several strands would swipe softly against my skin. Once I realized it was just the string, I’d relax and fall back asleep… but that initial moment, half asleep, when you feel an unexplained touch…? Terrifying.

      After a while, I got used to the poking and prodding of the strings and stopped noticing… until the night I woke up on the floor.

      I wasn’t sure why I’d woken up at first,  reaching for the blacklight on my nightstand… only to realize I was touching carpet. Unable to see in the dark, I waited for my eyes to adjust. Before long, the furniture around me took shape… only slightly darker than the blackness around me.

      Once I was better oriented, I was able to sit up to reach the nightstand; I felt resistance as I found the light, and realized with the neon illumination that I had somehow become tangled in the strings.

      Thick bundles of cord were coiled around my calves and left elbow, pulled taut. The strings stretched out the door and down the hall, vibrating and twisting—braiding together, as though to form a thick rope. I tried to reach down and untangle myself, but it was too difficult.

      Panic set in when my body unexpectedly moved, the knots tightened by a sharp pull—I slid across the carpet, towards the door… becoming more tangled as I struggled.  I caught the door frame with my free hand before I could be yanked out, the door frame creaking in protest as the wood strained and warped.

      I heard things breaking in another room, and the soft scrape of objects being dragged… all of the strings were moving in one direction— the persistent tug didn’t stop. My grip grew weaker as I held on for dear life, until my sweaty fingers slipped. Splinters of wood bit into my skin, and once again I was reeled into the deepening darkness, down the hall.

      I fumbled for furniture, anything I could catch onto… and found nothing. I felt like a fish on the end of a line, the catch of some unseen monstrosity in the dark. It was not a gentle current, knocking me into walls and the various objects that joined me on this harrowing journey.

      Raw terror almost sent me into a blind panic, but my survival instincts kicked in. Nature and genetics hadn’t bestowed me with sharp claws, but I still had teeth– and I used them, tearing like an animal at the strands that had twisted about my elbow. The friction tore at the corners of my mouth, but I ignored the pain and bit down as hard as I could, sawing at the threads until they frayed and snapped.

      It worked, though my mouth was burning and bloody– long, limp strands of string hung from the crook of my elbow… now I had control of both arms. I started ripping off my pajama bottoms— screaming in pain when I dislocated my ankle to slip free from the massive knot. I felt like a coyote in a trap, doing what I could to free myself even if it meant an injury.

      Free, I hobbled down the hall on one foot, it was easy enough to dodge the undulating strings as they began to converge into one thick mass. I turned on the hallway light, using the wall as support as I eased myself slowly towards the kitchen. I was in bad shape, covered in rug burn and blood. Adrenaline kept me moving even when I shouldn’t have been able to stand.

      Not much was left of the kitchen. Everything I’d tied had already been pulled into that tangled body… fortunately; the knife block hadn’t made it far. For practical reasons, I hadn’t tied strings to any of the knives. Although the block had been knocked to the floor, the knives were still safely housed inside. I grabbed the biggest one with my least injured hand.

      Armed, I limped after the strings into the living room– the source of the pull. When I turned on the lights I could see objects catching on things, getting stuck.  Everything was converging on the couch, in the gap between the left armrest and the cushions.

      Now that I was closer to the source, I could hear it… a sucking sound, wet and smacking, as though my couch were enjoying a plate of pasta, noodles of string being slurped into that cramped abyss.

      Pushing back the disbelief, I got to work with the knife—hacking inelegantly at the writhing neon vein, freeing what possessions I could before they were all sucked down that bottomless maw.

      I didn’t save much, but it was better than nothing. At sunrise, I paid the paperboy  $100.00 to dump the couch on the curb for me, and another $20.00 so he wouldn’t ask questions.

      Even at a distance, from the safety of my window… I could still see those neon nylon strings, a spray of orange twisted into the frayed ends of rope. It stuck out of the gap, only a few inches in length— as if to bait me to reach out, and reel the darkness in.

      I could reclaim all I’d lost, with just a pull of the strings. But no,  I wouldn’t take the bait. I knew something was waiting on the other side to pull me in. No… I’d let my lost things stay lost.

      For all my fear, I’d somehow neglected to remember that a string can be pulled from both ends.

      Posted in Short Stories [Horror] | 4 Comments | Tagged couch, creepy, dark, furniture, horror, neon, nylon, original, phobia, short story, story, string, strings, weird
    • New Narration Up – “Eavesdropper”

      Posted at 7:16 pm by Penny Tailsup, on July 30, 2018

      “Eavesdropper” has been added to my YouTube channel! I wrote the story but haven’t posted the text version anywhere but my Patreon page. The video features my voice, my speed-drawing, and a story written by me.

      I originally wrote this story so I could compete in this week’s Faceoff Friday in the Facebook group Sinister Showcase, which is a group on Facebook where narrators and writers showcase their work (horror). Check if out if you haven’t already!

      This story isn’t going live on Reddit until August 2nd, and will probably undergo some minor tweaks by then… but if you don’t want to wait– maybe the narration will do the trick. Maybe it will wake you up on your morning commute?

      Thank you so much for dropping by!

       

      — Penny

      Posted in Hellos/Announcements, Narrations | 0 Comments | Tagged audiobook, campfire tale, creepy, demons, horror, horror art, narration, nosleep, scary
    • Kittens – Extra Short Story – Horror / Creepy

      Posted at 10:05 pm by Penny Tailsup, on June 12, 2018

      My cat was pregnant and I was really excited about it. I really looked forward to the kittens! Before they were even born I wanted to play with them.

      It was hard waiting for the kittens to come, especially because Hissy was even grumpier than usual.

       

      Mom said that was normal, making babies grow in your belly makes moms tired. Hissy didn’t hate me now, she just wanted to sleep.

      I came home from school one day and mom ran up to meet me at the door, smiling wide.

      “The kittens are here!” She announced, running back into the living room. I ran too, excited to meet the new kittens. There was a cardboard box in the room, which we’d put our old towels in so Hissy would be comfortable.

      Mom bent over the box and picked up one of the kittens, cupping it in her hands and beckoning me closer. I leaned in to see, but there was no kitten. There was a blue slug thing in her hand instead.

      “Mom what’s—”

      The slug jumped from her open palm and jammed itself into my mouth before I could ask what it was, wet and slippery it slid down my throat like foul Jell-O.

      I stood there for a moment in confusion, then smiled wide, bursting with excitement. Mom was still to smiling too, this was a happy day.

      That’s when I heard Dad come home from work. I walked over to the box, Hissy was lounging comfortably on the towels, three more babies squirming beside her.

      “Dad! Dad!” I called, cupping one of the tiny babies in my hands. “The kittens are here! Come see!”

      Posted in EXTRA SHORT Short Story [Horror], Short Stories [Horror] | 6 Comments | Tagged cats, creepy, horror, kittens, micropasta, parasite, short, story
    • New Doodle – Penny Tailsup

      Posted at 9:53 am by Penny Tailsup, on May 30, 2018

      I decided to make my avatar/logo match my art style more, so I drew something last night. What do you think?

      Posted in Doodles, Hellos/Announcements | 0 Comments | Tagged art, creepy, doodle, drawing, horror
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