The mewing of the cats outside was becoming unbearable, forcing Hurei to click open the small latch on the screen door and peer out into the distant street. Mist clawed its way out of the grates and began to cover the road entirely, the blocky windows of the neighbours pitch black with sleep.  A thick stench of spoiled milk lingered around Hurei, and he noticed the untouched cat bowl at the end of the driveway. Still, the cats screeched on, creating a distorted harmony with one another. The biting cold of winter scratched at his bare calves, the pale skin becoming pimpled and stiff, and quickly, he tightened the cord of his dressing gown. Yellow and fluffy, he stood out like a candle amidst the black and white setting in which he found himself.

Before him sat twelve cats, scattered around the street, some on porches, some in the darkness, and he recognised the three of his own; Miso, Cali, Rufus. He called out to them, his voice croaky with phlegm, but they didn’t respond, only mewing more loudly. His mother had told him that putting a milk bowl out would draw all the neighbourhood cats. Somehow, he didn’t think that’s what this was. Twenty-four unblinking eyes with pupils that were a mere sliver, carried on their stare. Hurei’s house appeared the target.

Down the street, he heard a few more hisses and meows, and as he turned to look, even more cats were making their way through the heavy fog. Hurei’s eyes darted about from house to house and still, no one had turned on a light. He was met with vague shapes of windows and doors where the mist hadn’t fully taken over. The smell of curdling milk clung to his nostrils and, after another tightening of his robe, Hurei shambled along his porch. Each step he took, a strenuous creak moaned from the floorboards. 

A new cat, matted and ginger, sat down next to the milk dish. As he approached, it didn’t falter and, even as he shakily wrapped his bony fingers around the plastic bowl, the cat sat still, eyes unblinking. It was as he bent down, the wind whipping up his dressing gown, that Hurei noticed the cats’ eye-line; not at his house but higher, towards the sky almost. The mewing was deafening down here, each cry battering his eardrums repeatedly. He stood, hoping at any moment Mrs. Yu from across the road would come barrelling out of her front door complaining about the racket. The lumpy liquid in the dish sloshed over the rim and onto his thumb causing him to gag, huffing the foul smell from his nose. When he turned to go back inside, he saw it.

Perched high in the trees behind his house was a thing, black even against the night, with hollow eyes that were blacker still. Its chalk-white face gradually tilted and locked onto Hurei’s, accompanied by a sharp clicking sound. As their eyes met, the thing’s thin lips curled into a sickly smile, a long black tongue worming out and down its chin. The black cloth that hung from it obscured its body but a single white finger stretched out towards him. Hurei’s heart quickened, and blood rushed to his head, a new pounding sensation creeping across his brow.

Still, the cats mewed.

He watched the thing intensely, almost feeling the same gravitation the cats appeared to. This was no bird or preying animal, there were no visible wings, no fangs, nothing to suggest a wild beast. Hurei prayed that his eyes were deceiving him, that he was sleep-deprived. But no, this thing was very real, staring deeply into his eyes, sneering widely, pointing knowingly. It laughed a deep, guttural laugh, slow and considered, distorted against the meowing of the cats below. It sounded like it said his name.

Rushing inside, moving faster than he ever has before, Hurei tossed the cat bowl to the side and leapt into his room. He locked the front door, the windows, the door to his bedroom, anything he possibly could. Under the covers, he felt safe; ever since he was young, the bed was the safe space. He remembered his mother telling him of such creatures as a child, before bed. How they attracted animals, how they lured in unsuspecting victims, how they killed without mercy or guilt. So under the covers, he would stay. But somehow, he knew this would not keep the thing at bay. The mewing outside was still consistent, the deep, moan-like laugh also remained persistent, and Hurei could hear the subtle sound of twigs snapping, branches bending.

“Hu… rei.” The thing droned into the night. “Hu… rei.”

Heart pounding in his head, bile churning in his stomach, eyes too frantic to blink. There was a rattling at his screen door, knocks on the wooden siding of the house, the scraping of nails on glass window panes. Through the sheer of his curtains, Hurei saw the outline of a figure, hunched, and draped in cloth, swaying side to side and staring into the room, one hand raised as if waving.

“Hu… rei.” He heard it whisper. “Hu… rei.”

Quickly, he fumbled under the bed, making sure his dressing gown was fully hidden in the darkness. The whole house creaked and yawned in the night air, almost singing in harmony with the cats outside who still sung on. Then there was a silence. A pause too long to hold a breath for, a deafening quiet that screamed in Hurei’s face. And then a screech as the window to his room lifted open, slowly, carefully. Six white fingers curled their way under the slats and Hurei heard a muffled thud. It had crawled inside. 

His breath was loud, too loud, and he was sure that his heart could be heard from all the way down the road. Sweat pooled on his upper lip and brow bone, it leaked from his armpits and crotch, and sick swelled in his throat. The thing shuffled around the bed, a vague outline of its black shroud dragging on the floor.

“Hu… rei.” How sickly it sounded, how hoarse and vile. “Hu… rei.”

There was a rustle as the thing climbed into Hurei’s bed, moved the covers, searching. Its breath became panicked, quicker than before and coarser. It couldn’t find him. It wouldn’t find him. A wash of relief came over Hurei and, after a stillness that lasted over an hour, he must have drifted asleep.

“Hurei!”

He was woken to the screaming cry of his mother. It was a blood-curdling, ear-shattering yell that jolted Hurei up, hitting his head on the bed above him. Flittering open his eyes, Hurei’s room was still dark, there was still a subtle chill from the open window, and his sheets were still strewn across the floor. He saw no light from under the bedroom door indicating his mother’s presence. In fact, he saw almost nothing to signify life at all.

Turning over onto his side, Hurei choked on his breath, gulping down his screams. Laying with him under the bed was the thing, its chalk-white face in a permanent smile, coal-black eyes staring soullessly into his. It was licking its lips. 

“Hurei,” it hissed, “I found you.”