Cats of the Night

CATS OF THE NIGHT
Two young, brown haired women dressed in black stand outside the library on a chilly, early fall evening.  Black jeans, black shoes, black blouses, and black leather coats.  The wind is now picking up, blowing litter and fall painted leaves past them on the sidewalk.  Pale and aloof, they are out of place among the passing college students.  The women each suck on a cigarette as they eye the walking students from behind the cloud of addictively toxic smoke.  They resemble green eyed phantoms, only far more mysterious and dangerous.  A handsome blonde young man dressed head to toe in university gear catches their full attention.  He is athletically lean and appears to possess an ounce or two of intelligence. He’s a rarity among his kind.  They hum in pleasure and anticipation as he approaches.
“Him?” the taller of the women asks.  The other woman coolly nods, not taking her eyes off the blonde treasure.  The young man walks up the steps and enters the old brick building housing knowledge, books, and a well deserved future supper.
The shorter of the two women flings her cigarette to the gum, grease, and spit stained concrete and leaves her post against the wall.  She is stopped by the other woman’s arm firmly planted across her chest, calming the impatient woman. 
On the other side of the entrance stairs stand two, also out of place, young brown haired men who have been eyeing the same handsome meal ticket.  The young men casually walk into the library, unaware of the young women devilishly plotting against them.
“Not—” says the shorter of the two.
“—again,” the other finishes.  This isn’t going to happen again.  They haven’t had a meal in a week, and they are not going home with empty stomachs tonight.  And most importantly, they are not going to be sent home hungry by some pretty boy amateurs.
This has been a common occurrence in the past years.  New blood thinking they could come and go and feed wherever they please without any regard for the rules and customs of the older generation.  The bottom line is kids nowadays have no respect for territory, their territory on campus.  The young women claimed the old building years ago, and now some punks are going to try to claim a stake on their turf?  Not going to happen.  The taller brunette loosens her arm and the two walk into their feeding ground arm in arm.
The library is an assortment of smells.  The women are enticed by the smells of the coffee from the library’s cafe, old books, various cheap body sprays, and of course, the sweet blood of the not too young but not too old.  A new smell is present this time, more like a stench; they smell them nearby.  The problem is they also smell their catch nearby.  A dilemma has presented itself.  Are they hungry enough to risk a scene, or are they patient enough to take care of the amateurs first?
“There,” says the shorter of the two.  The catch disappears behind the doors of one of the elevators.  The men follow in another elevator.  The women know where the trio are bound, the fifth floor.  Damn, they both think, gripping each other’s arm tighter.  That answers their dilemma.  They are going to have to kill two birds with one stone as quietly as possible tonight.  They casually walk over to the back stairs of the library and rush to the fifth floor in seconds.

There is a common tale which passes between the lips of both students and faculty about the fifth floor of the campus’s library.  Students and young professors disappear from time to time on that floor during the night, according to the tale.  What is known for sure is that the lighting on the floor is shitty at best and the security cameras are few.  The young women don’t believe in superstitious scary stories.  Neither does the blonde man. 
The chime of the approaching elevators shatter through the silent floor and the women hide behind a dusty bookshelf.  The first elevator door opens and enters the blonde man.  A few seconds later, the second elevator door opens, and the two other men enter.  The two men must be amateurs; they are oblivious to the women ready to pounce upon them.  The men couldn’t smell the women, sense them, hear them, or anything that would have saved them from their downfall.  Just as the blonde man turns a corner around a bookshelf, the two men following him are gone.  He thinks something doesn’t seem right. He glances over his shoulder to nothing.
He returns to looking for his book on the shelf, trying to decipher the hieroglyphics of the new numbering system the library had instituted the previous semester.  Then he hears it. It is soft; he only just hears the sound of something rubbing against the carpet flooring.  He quickly grabs his book and quietly makes his way to the elevator.  He presses the button to go down, back to safer civilization, but his human curiosity is too much.  He abandons the glow of the green arrow button, peers behind a bookshelf, and discovers them.
In a heap of bodies, the pairs of predators silently and skillfully claw and rip at each other’s clothing, eventually damaging flesh.  Each party is equally as hungry, savage, and pissed off as the other.  A muffled scream escapes the blonde man’s lips as the body of a brown haired man is accidentally flung into him, sending both men crashing through a large window.   
Students down below scream in fright as they witness the two men fall to their deaths. Two black figures leaping after the man are also witnessed by the students.  When students rush to where the men landed, all they find is the body of one brown haired man, who was dead before he hit the ground.  The blonde man and the two black figures in question are gone.  Later, the body of another brown haired man is discovered on the fifth floor. It is a bloody mess to behold. The man’s shoulders are already bruising, revealing the scenario of someone mounting him and ripping his throat out.  Neither of the bodies discovered that night are students of the university.  Authorities have yet to find the body of the blonde man.

Two dark figures stay hidden within the branches of a large tree that has yet to lose all of its leaves to the approaching season.  Two pairs of bright green eyes shining amongst the leaves are the only sign of something sinister present in the peaceful tree.   
“Well, we always did want to travel,” says the taller woman.  In the distance, there is the glow of the flashing red and blue lights. 
“True, and we were getting bored with this campus,” replies the other.  She licks her finger tips and cleans off her lips.  A low moan escapes her lips as she licks the last drop of blood from her fingers.  “What do we do with him?”  A puddle of blood forms near the base of the tree.  Drop by drop, blood drips slowly from the mangled corpse wrapped around the branches. 
“Leave him, no point in hiding what’s left of him,” the taller woman says.  She wipes a spot of blood from the corner of her partner’s mouth.  They systematically examine their clothing.  A few rips here and there are in the fabric, now resembling something high fashion revered three seasons ago.  Their few wounds under the fabric have healed and the beauty of their black clothing reveals itself, hiding the blood stains from feeble, human eyes. 
“I’m still hungry, Night,” says the taller woman.  She beats her eyes at her sympathetic partner.
“I know, Cat,” says Night, rolling her eyes.  Off in the distance, Night observes a group of giggly young women who are no doubt, on their way to a party.  Cat soon follows her partner’s gaze, smiling at their luck.  The sparkle radiating from the young women’s dresses and jewelry beckons the women to indulge in their final night of gluttony on the campus.  There is then a moment of silence between them, but the Cheshire Cat grins cracked across their faces silently speak volumes.  In a blur, they jump down from the tree and join their fellow creatures of the night to dance, play, and of course, feast.