The Spot Writers – “Demon Spawn,” by Deborah Dera.

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This week’s prompt is to use “he threw open the door” in the writing. Today’s story comes from Deborah Dera. Deborah is traditionally a non-fiction writer and blogger but she also enjoys exploring her more creative side from time to time.

Next week’s story will be from RC Bonitz, author of A BLANKET FOR HER HEART. His latest book, DANGEROUS DECISIONS, has just been accepted for publication by REBEL INK PRESS.

***

Demon Spawn

The howling from the back seat unnerved me. Brandy, for the most part, would strike you as the most docile cat you’d ever met. Until you tried to take her to the vet, anyway.

It wasn’t the cat carrier that set Brandy off.  She actually enjoyed the confined space, as she did any other box, and she didn’t seem unnerved by short car rides. Just a few minutes, though, and she was done. Longer and she knew she was in for something unpleasant.

The howling got louder. My heart was racing and my palms were sweating as I finally found the vet’s office and turned into the lot. Lugging the carrier into the office was no small feat, as Shadow was thrashing around, moving from side to side, front to back – trying to assess his surroundings and plot his escape at the same time.

Inside, the receptionist gave me a sideways glance as I set the carrier by my feet.

“This is Brandy. I… uh… I mentioned on the phone that he generally doesn’t like going to the vet. He sort of turns into… well… demon spawn.”

She nodded with a smile, as if she knew something about handling my cat that I did not. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll take good care of him. You look rattled. Would you like to sit down in the waiting area for a bit? I’ll take him back to be examined.”

“You… don’t want me to go with him?” I felt a mixture of guilt and relief.

“No, no. We’ll be just fine. You take a few minutes and we’ll let you know when the vet is ready to speak to you.” She smiled confidently as she came around the desk and reached for the carrier. Brandy mewled and howled from the inside, but was still.

I moved to the waiting area and waited for the games to begin. The howling grew louder and I could hear the voices of the vet and at least one tech, maybe two, in the exam room; the shuffling of quick feet moving around as the howling turned into a screeching.

I wondered if any of them had thought to put on heavy leather gloves.

Taking a deep breath, I waited for the inevitable. From the sound of the hushed but hurried voices, I imagined there were probably four people in the room now, attempting to give him a simple exam and draw the blood work 6 vets before them had not been able to. I was assured this office was the one.

The howling and screeching became absolutely blood curdling. I heard a groan of frustration and what I was sure was a string of profanity.

Finally, I looked up just as he threw open the door. The scratches on both of the doctor’s arms were fresh, oozing. The doctor stood in the entry to the exam room, his dark eyes boring holes into me. “You. Come and get your cat. Now.”

I rose slowly, calmly, with calculated movements. Confidence oozed from my pores as I moved past him into the tiny room where there were, as I’d imagined, four techs still in the room, all standing along the walls as Brandy pressed herself up against the underside of the exam table, hissing. This was the easy part.

I quickly pulled the carrier down and placed it on the floor in front of her. I opened the door. “Ready to go home?” I cooed at her. “Come on, sweetie…”

Brandy’s body visibly relaxed as she watched me toss a treat into the back of the carrier. She pushed herself off the wall and dove into the carrier, not caring that I’d shut the door and trapped her inside once again.

Standing, I placed the carrier on the table and turned calmly to the doctor. “I assume you were not able to do the exam. There will be no charge today, correct?”

“Just go. Get that thing out of here.”

Heaving the carrier back off of the table, I exited the room and walked calmly past the receptionist, who no longer had the smug, confident smile she’d sported earlier. This time, I smiled. “Thank you, anyway.”

Brandy didn’t make a sound the entire ride home.

***

The Spot Writers—Our Members:

RC Bonitzhttp://www.rcbonitz.com

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Deborah Marie Dera:  www.deborahdera.com

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