Selina Marcille

Flash Fiction inspired by Leigh Bardugo’s prompt: “The cat had been at war with the demon for nearly a century.”

**

            “That mortal-born filth has got to go,” Smirnoff declared.  His cerulean skin was pockmarked with bloody gashes and the faint glisten of Hobbert’s Cauldron Cleansing Ooze, the green variety.

            Celestina looked her lover up and down and snapped her fingers.  The cuts were healed, the green sheen gone, and the acrid smell of burning roses floated on the air.

            “I could have done that myself.”

            “Could you?  Because I thought you were the demon of vice, destroyer of sanity, and revenger of mediocrity, yet here you stand whining and dripping on my freshly polished stones.”

            Smirnoff had to bite back his tongue as it tried to serpentine out of his mouth to scent the distaste on the air. 

            He was about to argue when Dollface strutted in.  Her tail was pert and upright, her nose raised in a dignified manner, and her fur had not a damn spot of the cauldron cleaner on it despite her tipping over the entire bucket onto an unsuspecting Smirnoff below.

            “There she is,” Celestina said, her voice increasing by two octaves as she cuddled Dollface to her chest. 

            Dollface turned towards Smirnoff as she nuzzled closer to Celestina’s bosom, challenging the demon to say a single bad thing about her.  As Celestina rubbed behind her ears, Dollface purred and stared straight into Smirnoff’s three blood-red eyes.

            “I don’t understand why you have such a problem with her.  Is it really because she was born mortal?”

            Dollface let out a pitiful little meow and rolled so that her stomach showed.  After starting her life as a mortal kitten, her tawny stripes and all-white belly had stayed once Celestina cast the immortal familiar spell.  That has been nearly 150 years earlier, back when the humans still used horse-led carriages and death roamed the streets like a hungry prostitute.  Much had changed since then, but the bond between Dollface and Celestina was unbreakable.  No matter how much Smirnoff had tried to sabotage it in the past 100 years.

            “I don’t give a damn that your monstrosity was born mortal.  That hellcat tries at every turn to kill me. Just today, I was walking under the beam in your kitchen when she knocked that entire bucket right on top of me.  When I tried to grab her, she dug her claws in so deep, it’s a surprise my clothes aren’t stained black with blood.”

            Dollface rolled until one paw was free and began to clean her face, licking that paw and rubbing it against her whiskers.  She couldn’t quite reach the other side so she brought in her other paw and cleaned both sides at the same time.

            Celestina, who was absolutely going to address Smirnoff’s concerns, was immediately distracted and pulled out the mortal cell phone she is fond of.  She toggles it to the video mode and starts recording as Dollface started cleaning her ears, still enrobed in her mistresses’ arms.

            “Oh, Smirnoff! Look! She cleaned that one so hard that it is staying folded back!  I’ll have to post this one to DemonScroll. Balthazar will eat this up.”

            Smirnoff sighs so hard that smoke curls from his ears.  Resigned, he gestures to the door.

            “The Coalition of Predetermined Vice waits for no one, especially at autumn solstice.  We don’t want to be late.”

            Reluctantly, Celestina placed Dollface on the Tempurrpedic cat bed she saw on a mortal advertisement and special-ordered from the human furniture store.  She would get only the best for her Dolllface.  “You be good while I’m gone,” she trilled.

            Dollface rolled onto her back and looked at her mistress adoringly.  As Celestina pulled on her coat, Dollface’s eyes sharpened back to Smirnoff and narrowed into a glare that followed them as the couple departed for the night.

            Dollface waited until she was sure the coast is clear.  When five minutes passed, she hopped down from the cat bed to the secret alcove she’d been keeping in the back of the root cellar.

            Dollface descended the steps, taking care to keep her claws retracted.  The temperature dipped as she entered the room and climbed through the hole so small and well-hidden that even Celestina didn’t know it was there.  Dollface wiggled in until she stood before the altar. 

            Every year on this day for 99 years, Dollface came down here.  And today, the 100^th time, will finally set her free.

            She sat back on her haunches and held her paw aloft.  She opened her claws and a single drop of black blood dripped into the vessel below.

            “Finally,” a voice hissed from the darkness. 

**