3 AM. The pet camera in the living room suddenly spoke. "Mimi is having fun!" "Mimi is having fun!" This is the automated alert the camera sends when it detects the cat's movement. But my blood ran cold. Because the kitten was in the corner of my bedroom, watching me quietly. The thing outside... wasn't my cat. 1 The camera stubbornly continued its broadcast. "Mimi is having fun..." "Mimi is having fun..." ... The gentle female voice sounded exceptionally terrifying in the silent night. Since 9 PM, the power in the apartment had been out. No notice from property management. The repairman hadn't shown up. With my severe nearsightedness, darkness meant blindness. Stripped of any sense of security, I dared not move. Faced with this eerie scene, my first instinct was to play dead. I lay stiff on the bed. Eyes fixed on the closed bedroom door. Praying it was just a glitch. Sure enough. The voice in the living room paused for a few seconds, then fell silent. Like it was just a hallucination. My hands tingled with relief. By the moonlight. I reached out to the kitten in the corner, signaling it to come to me. But this time, the kitten didn't move. It stayed frozen, staring at the closed bedroom door. And meowed. "Meow~" The next second. A knock on the bedroom door. Thud. Thud thud. My scalp went numb. Every nerve snapped tight. A raspy voice drifted through the crack. "What a cute kitty..." "I knew you were in there." Someone broke in. The thought hit me, and I shivered violently. Terrified, I scrambled out of bed. The cat was too far; I couldn't grab it. I reached for my phone to call 911. Only to find that because the cat chewed through the charger last night, I had 3% battery left. The moment the screen lit up. It dropped to 1%. The next second. "Shutting down in 30 seconds." And just then. The phone froze on the camera feed interface. A face beyond recognition. Because he was pressed right up against the lens. I could see clearly. Countless burns and scratches crisscrossed that face. A pair of bloodshot eyes stared deathly at the screen. As if he knew I was watching him from the other side. He opened a bloody mouth and grinned menacingly at me. I shook uncontrollably. Hiding in the closet, I frantically swiped the back button. Trying to make that life-saving call. But I failed. The screen went black. As the last light in the closet died. The knocking stopped. The next second. A metallic scrape against the doorknob. Bang. A heavy thud blossomed on the door. One. Two. ... 2 I shivered in the closet. I knew clearly. The bedroom door was just flimsy plywood. He'd break through in minutes. The kitten in the corner didn't seem to understand the danger. Still meowing at the banging door. I screamed internally: Mimi, Mimi, stop meowing, stop meowing. If he finds you, you really won't survive. Before I could react. Through the crack, I saw. A large hole chopped through the bedroom door. A withered, grotesque hand reached in. Easily unlocking the door. A dark figure stumbled toward the kitten in the corner. The kitten, sensing no danger, meowed softly at the shadow. I covered my mouth. Watching the impending horror, eyes splitting with rage. Tears fell uncontrollably. I prayed for a shred of humanity in this person. But I saw the bloodstained machete in his hand. Raised high against the moonlight. And brought down viciously. Squelch. The sound of flesh being mercilessly split in two. Through the closet crack. A drop of blood splashed onto my face. Running down with my tears. I never dreamed the kitten I adopted a month ago... Would be butchered like this. Back turned to me. The figure in black hacked tirelessly. Again and again, like chopping ribs. Venting on the kitten's corpse. Seeing the maniac immersed in the thrill of slaughter. I knew this was my chance. I covered my mouth, forcing silence. Gently pushed the closet door open. In despair, only one thought remained. Run! Suppressing my pounding heart. I ran to the bedroom door. But couldn't help glancing back. In the pile of gore. Mimi's little head looked at me despairingly. When our eyes met, it hadn't died yet. Gasping "huk huk" from its torn throat. It still wanted to call to me. 3 Tears rained down. Anger mixed with confusion. I'd never seen this person. Never had a grudge with such a lunatic. Why chase me into my home to kill me? Not even sparing an innocent cat! Thinking this, I tiptoed into the living room. My hand touched the front doorknob. The next second, I was yanked back by my hair and thrown to the ground. Sharp pain in my chest. A foot stomped hard on my ribs. I struggled to open my eyes. Blood covered my face from the impact, blurring my vision. I could only see a grotesque man looming over me. Face long and sharp. Scars crawling all over, twisted and mad. "Say goodbye to your slut cat!" A hollow-eyed kitten head appeared before me. The man wore a smile of ultimate excitement, like he'd done something great. He raised the cat head. And threw it in my face. Mimi was a two-month-old kitten I adopted last month. Her mom was a stray in the complex. Gentle personality. Often fed by residents. There were many neutered strays in the complex. But for some reason. Since last month. The strays vanished overnight. Gone without a trace. At first, we thought property management took them away. But no notice, no admission. Until one day. In the gazebo where Mimi's mom often hung out. A neighbor found a mangled cat corpse. Then a second, a third. Every stray was found dead in its favorite spot. Cruelly butchered. Pregnant cats cut open alive. Unborn fetuses lined up. Spelling out words. "SLUT CAT"!!! And now, I felt my fate would be no different. The next second. The machete swung ruthlessly at my face. 4 Gasping in despair. I opened my eyes. The familiar sound rang out. The eerie electronic broadcast: "Mimi is having fun—" My pupils dilated. I was back to one minute before the break-in. The fear of death reoccupied my brain. Looking at Mimi in the corner. I scooped her up without hesitation. Last time, Mimi's meow led the killer to my room. If she stays quiet this time. Maybe I can stall. My apartment has three rooms. The other two are locked for easier cleaning. If I lock the bedroom too. The killer can't instantly tell which room I'm in from three identical doors. My spare charger is in the living room corner. Maybe I can gamble. Bet he doesn't break my door first. Slip out while he's busy, grab the charger, rush out with Mimi and a power bank to charge. And call the police. Thinking this, I tried to steady my breathing. Gently opened the closet, put the kitten inside. Ensuring the closet door muffles any sound. Keeping everything silent in this quiet home. In the farthest room, I accidentally left a Bluetooth speaker. Now it came in handy. Last 3% battery. I turned off the camera feed early. Quickly connected to the Bluetooth. Started playing Love Trading at max volume. "Love isn't something you want to buy!!!" "Buy if you can buy!!!" "Let me open my eyes!!!" "Let me understand!!!" "Let go of your love~~~" ... The deafening music filled the house. Mustering courage. I cracked the bedroom door open. Sure enough. The intense music drew the killer's full attention. Covering his ears. He rushed to that room with his knife. Hacking at the door. Bang bang bang. Deep breath. Now! I opened the closet, grabbed the cat and the power bank, and sprinted to the living room corner. Luckily. The blackout hid my movements. Until I pulled the cable from the drawer. I felt my whole body relax. Behind me, the killer hacked tirelessly at the bedroom door (Note: The text says bedroom door here, but context implies the dummy room door. Assuming dummy room based on plan). Oblivious to me opening the front door. I pressed the handle, opened the door, and rushed out. The next second. A sharp knife slammed into my chest. Mimi in my arms was pierced through the belly. Blood sprayed. Splattering my face. "Stupid bitch, thought you were smart?" So. There was more than one killer. The man in front of me twisted the knife with a grin. Mimi's body was skewered. He swung his arm, flinging her against the wall. She fell heavily, shattered. Tears streamed down my face. Too scared to even cry out loud. The killer shouted into the house. "Stop chopping, the slut cat ran out again!" The killer inside broke through the door. Turned off the speaker. In the pitch-black night, only my gasping breath remained. And the weak mewling of the dying kitten. "Why..." "Why do this to me..." Legs weak. I knelt, holding the kitten's corpse, breaking down. Witnessing its death twice. Experiencing my own death twice. My nerves were snapping. I wailed like a madwoman. The killer wasted no words. Grabbed my hair, yanked my head back, exposing my neck. And stabbed viciously again.
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