“You’re sure it’s this way?” said Jack, eyebrows raised as he peered down a wide alley.

“Definitely,” said Russ from beside him. He had covered himself with a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Are you doubting my nose?”

Jack held up a mangy red scrap of fabric. “But you didn’t even sniff the blanket.”

“The thing was all over my face, what do I need the blanket for ?! Why did you even bring it?”

“Well, can’t hurt to have something familiar, and if it tries to get away…” He mimed throwing the rag over something.

Russ sucked his teeth. “You sure that’s wise?”

“I don’t wanna hear that from the man who looks like a scratching post!”

“You’ll be next,” said Russ, stepping into the alley.

“Yeah, whatever. So you’re sure it’s this one?”

Turning on his heel, Russ growled. “Yes! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?”

He started. “Just, y’know, look at it.” The alleyway was wide enough for a car to comfortably slide down, even with the wheelie bins and assorted junk littering the edges. 

“Too wide, too many hiding places.” He gulped. “This is the perfect place for a fight scene.”

Russ went pale, dragging Jack in front of him. “Then you’re going first!”

Jack’s eyes bulged. “You can turn into a bear!”

“Gentlemen,” said Sam, inserting himself between them. “Your bickering serves no purpose.”

“You serve no purpose!” said Jack.

“Yeah,” said Russ, “this scene would be better without you!”

Nodding, Sam strode onward. “At least you agree on something.”

Jack and Russ exchanged worried glances. Did he realise what they were agreeing on?

With a shrug, they followed him, getting ten feet before running into traffic.

“Meow.” First was a black moggy with patterns on its face. Then, from garages, gardens, and cubby holes came a feline menagerie, barring their path in a deep column that would have made a Roman general blush.

Jack bit his bottom lip. “Oh, balls.”

***

Sobbing into her arms, Lydia quavered.

Hannah approached, laying a gentle hand across her back. “You must really love cats, right? This is totally out of character for you.”

“Not just cats,” said Lydia, sniffing, “all animals. They’re so honest, and adorable, and they don’t try to control or deceive you. They don’t care about money, or status.

“And they’re all fucking terrified of me!” She blubbered harder, tears staining her sleeves.

“There, there,” said Hannah, patting her. “It can’t be every single animal, right?”

Lydia shook her head. “We had to move the stables because the horses went mad every time I walked past.”

“What about Choo-chooin? He’s a turtle, and he’s not scared of you.”

Looking up, Lydia gave a twisted expression. “You mean the turtle that ran head-first through a field of explosions? That turtle?”

Hannah rubbed the back of her head. “Fair point. He’s never bitten you, though; that probably means something.”

“I thought him biting meant he likes you?”

“He loves me, and he’s never bitten me.”

“Maybe he just only bites men?”

“Didn’t he bite Lizzie?”

“Yes, but she’s very mannish.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, it just means the turtle was probably mistaken.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. “You know, you’re not very nice about people who are meant to be your friends.”

“Hmph. At what point did it look like we were friends?”

Chuckling, Hannah said, “it looks like you don’t understand all the forms affection can take.”

“I don’t need to hear that from somebody whose knowledge of relationships comes from books and television.”

“Oh, and how many friends do you have?”

Drying her eyes on her sleeves, Lydia rose and crossed her arms. “My mother always told me the powerful don’t need friends.”

“She sounds like a massive bitch.”

She smiled mirthlessly. “You have no idea. Come, we may still be able to find it.” Taking off again, she waited for Hannah to catch up before heading further inland.

“How?” said Hannah, giggling as she performed loops to the side. “I thought we needed to talk to the boss cat?”

“There is more than one way to skin a… never mind.”

“So? What’s the plan?”

“Simple,” she said, catching Hannah’s gaze with a smirk. “In what universe do you see a cat wearing a tweed jacket?”

“You seemed perfectly okay with it at the time!”

Snickering, Lydia sped up. “I was simply acting as though I hadn’t noticed. You see, the legends state that Bakeneko are capable of influencing the minds of other creatures.”

“So, you’re saying-”

“That all of those cats were being controlled by the Bakeneko in an attempt to fool us? Yes.”

“Okay,” said Hannah, nodding, “but how does that help us?”

“The creature needs to be within a certain distance to exercise its control, and when I tagged our stray family earlier, I was able to follow the trail back to its mind.”

“In other words, we’re heading straight for the Bakeneko?”

“Hopefully.”

“What do you mean, hopefully? I thought you were meant to be good at magic!”

Harrumphing, she debated whether to set Hannah on fire. She liked her, so she’d let it slide. “The Bakeneko has a vast web of mental links - I could only follow one. It may just be another stray.”

“That’s helpful,” said Hannah, apathetically noting the roofs flashing beneath them. “And if it’s not the right cat?”

“Then we try again. We’re here.” Halting her flight, Lydia gestured down at a bustling square; a cobblestoned street was surrounded by massive shopping centres, a church, and a bus terminal.

Hannah pointed at a crowd gathered at the bus stop, all focused on something in the middle.

“Is that Laura?”

Lydia traced her finger’s path, eyes settling on the centre of the crowd, where there was indeed a dangerously beautiful woman; her movements were entrancing as she danced, her hips swaying hypnotically as she smiled at the ring of onlookers.

She could only wonder why the woman had a towel on her head.

Wait…

Snapping her fingers, she dove down towards the dancing figure. “That’s the Bakeneko!”

Hannah floated, her face aghast. “How do you know?”

“Because the towel and the dance are how they imitate people.”

Hannah plunged after her, her jaw cycling. “But then they can only imitate dancers hitchhiking through the galaxy!”

The woman looked up, noticing their onrushing forms; her eyes went wide and in a puff of smoke, she was gone.

A tiny black quadruped bolted from within the perplexed audience, its serpentine tail high in the air.

“After it!” yelled Lydia.

***

He shouldn’t have run away.

His body had been gripped by cold; it was the first time his human had ever barked at him like that. The memories had returned, and for a moment, he’d imagined himself back with the monster human who had raised him.

Normally, she was kind and attentive, always listening to his meows and cuddling him when he climbed on her. She was warm, smelled amazing, and her rhythmic heartbeat never failed to lull him into a trance.

He was purring just thinking about it.

But now, he had bolted into the humans’ stone-forest, his first excursion since he had arrived in the strange new land. Different air, different stones, and different cats. But in the end, it was the same: he was alone, hunted by humans, and had nowhere to turn.

He couldn’t return to his lair; it was a precious place full of treasures unknown even to his human, and he wouldn’t let the hunters sully it.

Or her.

He craved the warmth and safety of her arms, and the way she would scratch him just behind the ear.

But he needed to be strong.

In order to escape his first master, he had gained abilities that made other cats look like mice. He was using them now, but the humans were clever. 

No matter where he went, they were on his trail.

One of them, a female, was tiny for a human, but also the most terrifying creature he had ever seen. Even he couldn’t ignore the instinct to run from that black aura engulfing most of the stone forest.

His helper-cats wouldn’t be able to hold on, even with his help.

He’d have to resort to stronger measures, then; nothing would stop him reuniting with his human.

***

“That’s a lot of cats,” said Jack, backing up slowly.

Russ was shaking, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Any ideas?” Jack’s voice was scratchy.

“Hmm,” said Sam, finger on his chin. “Did either of you bring any catnip?”

They both glowered at him. He’d been there the entire time; when had they had a window to buy catnip?

Then again, hindsight was a bitch.

Sam shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

With a deep breath, Jack began moving forward. A deep wail of meowing and yowling erupted, like a symphony played through instruments stuffed with mud.

Suddenly, he couldn’t see.

Sharp pain broke out all over his body, the weight of fur and flesh biting into him with the same ferocity as the claws. He yelled. Each cutting shock was replaced by a dull throb, and he flailed desperately to escape.

Beside him, he could hear Russ and Sam in similar predicaments.

Finding a wall, he drove himself into it repeatedly, ignoring the thudding as his bones rattled.

The cats dropped away, and he staggered forward. Russ was still floundering, tears streaming as he pulled at the swarm of cats.

Sam was plucking them off himself like they were nothing.

“Fuck this!” shouted Russ, roaring as he transformed into a bear. His new playmates flew away, hissing.

The Feline Legion lay broken and panting at their feet, most of their energy clearly used in the initial assault. The few still standing would pose little threat.

Jack nodded, a lump in his throat. “Let’s move.”

The others agreed, but as they took a step, their jaws were left hanging.

One by one, each fallen cat was sliding towards the black moggy that had appeared first; they all connected to the previous, forming a greater whole that completed itself with a graceful flourish, a humanoid shape towering over them with menace.

At the top, the moggy meowed.

Jack clenched his teeth. “What’s this supposed to be, Transformeows?”

“Impossible!” said Sam, gasping. “That must be the legendary meowcha Mecattron, as described by John in-”

“I think you’re confusing the Bible with something else, mate.”

Roaring, Russ charged at the meowcha-

“We’re not calling it that!”

He charged, but before he could even raise his paw, the Transformeow batted him aside like a ball of string. Splattering against the wall, he coughed, reverting to human.

“Very well,” said Sam, making a sign of the cross before drawing his sword. “By the light of our Father, I shall unburden our path.”

When he removed his blade, a brilliant glow emerged from within the sheathe, burning shapes into his retinas and forcing Mecattron to look away.

“By Excalibur’s light!” He raised the sword up, the light growing from the blade until it reached the sky. Swinging it down, he cleaved through the Transformeow; all the cats fell apart, crawling away in a daze.

“So you are the rightful king of England,” said Jack.

Sam furrowed his brow. “Are you alright, my friend? It sounds as though you may have hit your head.”

No, thought Jack, you did. As a baby. Several times.

“Still,” said Sam, looking at the field of defeated cats. He clasped his hands together. “Oh Father, thank you for shining your light of heavenly protection on these majestic creatures-”

Sweat poured down his neck. “No, you just held back, right?”

“Meow.”

Their attention snapped to the distant source of the noise: in the centre of the alley, staring at them with its tail up, was a cat with shifting ears and a massive tail.

“Huh,” said Jack. “You know what comes next?”

Sam nodded, sword at the ready.

“Run!”

The moment he shouted, two things happened: the first was he and Sam setting off in synchronicity, following opposite zig-zag patterns that intercepted in the centre.

The second was fireballs. Whirling its tail, the Bakeneko produced a bombardment that left blazes erupting behind them, Russ struggling to crawl away from the flames. They all missed the two runners, though; they closed in, heat licking at the back of their legs.

Yowling, the Bakeneko took off. They sped up.

Around corners and down alleys, Jack found himself wondering when the garden hopping would start - but was snapped from his reverie by the voice of his nightmare.

“You found it too, then?” He looked up to see Lydia flying alongside him, cheek resting on her hand.

“Clearly,” he said, tone aggravated. “If you can go faster, do something about it!”

“Hmph,” she said. “I found it first, you understand?”

He threw up his arms. “Nobody cares!”

The cat had reached a dead-end, and scrabbled up a wall to escape. Lydia smirked.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she said, waving a hand and watching the cat slide off the painted brick.

It whipped round, eyes frenzied and head low as it hissed.

Seemingly from nowhere, Hannah landed next to it, offering a hand to sniff. “It’s okay, kitty. You don’t have to be scared.”

It shied away, fleeing beneath a cardboard box. Yellow eyes peeked out as Jack and Sam approached, the Paladin kneeling and taking the cloth from Jack’s hands. 

“Here,” he murmured, blinking slowly at the pair of eyes. “We’re friends; we are here to see you home.”

Reluctantly, the cat batted and sniffed at the blanket. After a while, it edged out of its hiding place, meowing and rubbing its face on the rough fabric.

“That was easier than I expected,” said Jack.

Alighting next to them, Lydia scoffed. “Monster or not, it’s still just a cat.”

Hannah faced her, eyes shooting agape. “Are you trying to ruin it?”

“What are you-”

A tremendous crying broke out, the Bakeneko failing to dart through each of their legs. It scrambled for an exit, but there was none.

It started growing.

And growing.

And growing, until each leg was thick enough to mistake for an ancient oak, and five times as high; its body could have housed a nation, and its jaws could have easily swallowed an aircraft carrier.

“Forget a monster.” Jack staggered backwards, struggling to keep his feet. “This thing is a f*cking Kaijū!”