Whiskers and Whispers | ONC 2025 ?

Ayumi had never been more determined in her life. The encounter with the man in the alley had only fuelled her obsession. The cat was no longer just a stray animal. It was something more—something she couldn't explain but felt deep within her bones. And the man, with his glowing golden eyes, was the living proof that something extraordinary was at play.

Each night, as the evening wore on and the city fell into a deep, quiet slumber, Ayumi's resolve only grew stronger. She had to catch the cat in the act. She had to prove that it wasn't just an ordinary creature. There had to be something more to it. She would leave no stone unturned.

She was no longer just watching from her window. Ayumi had begun setting traps—simple things at first: bowls of food left out in the alley where she had seen the cat most often. She even tried a few scented lures she found in pet stores, each time hoping to catch a glimpse of the cat's elusive movements. She'd spent hours researching methods, analysing the best ways to attract stray cats—anything she could do to lure it out of hiding.

But the cat, it seemed, had other ideas.

Each morning, Ayumi would check her traps, only to find them disturbed, the food gone, the scent markers scattered around, but no sign of the cat. It was as if the creature knew exactly what she was doing, knew that she was trying to trap it. It had become a game—one that Ayumi was desperate to win.

The first time it happened, Ayumi had set up her usual bait—a small dish of tuna, the kind she knew cats couldn't resist. She watched the alley from her window, her eyes darting back and forth between the empty street and the small plate of food. She stayed hidden, just behind the curtain, waiting for the slightest sign of movement.

Hours passed.

The air outside had turned chilly, and Ayumi rubbed her arms, wishing she had brought a blanket with her. Still, she couldn't tear herself away. This time, she had a feeling that the cat would come. Tonight was the night.

Finally, at around 3 a.m., she saw it. The black cat emerged from the shadows, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. Ayumi held her breath, excitement surging through her veins. This is it.

But just as the cat neared the food, it paused. It turned its head slowly toward the window where Ayumi was hiding. The golden eyes glinted in her direction. Ayumi froze, unable to breathe, unable to move. It was as if the cat knew she was there—watching, waiting.

Then, the cat did something completely unexpected. With a swift movement, it knocked the bowl of tuna off the edge of the crate it had been sitting on. The food spilled across the pavement, the tin bowl spinning out of control, making a small clattering noise as it rolled into the street.

Ayumi's eyes widened in disbelief. It was toying with her.

The cat didn't even bother to approach the mess it had just created. Instead, it looked back toward the alley entrance, its eyes gleaming with what Ayumi could have sworn was mischief. Slowly, it began to walk away, its tail swishing lazily behind it, as if nothing had happened at all.

Ayumi stared, mouth agape. The frustration and confusion surged through her. Why? Why had the cat deliberately knocked over the trap? Why was it making a game out of this?

She was left staring at the ruined trap, the food scattered in the street, the cat's taunting gaze still fresh in her mind. This was no coincidence. The cat knew exactly what she was doing. It was aware of her intentions.

The next night, Ayumi refused to be outwitted again. This time, she was ready for the cat.

She had placed a fresh batch of tuna in the middle of the alley again, but she had also set up a series of motion detectors—small devices she had picked up online that would send her a notification on her phone whenever something moved in the alley. If she was going to catch it, she would need evidence. She wasn't about to let the cat slip past her again.

Ayumi sat by her window, staring down at the alley, waiting. The quiet of the night was broken only by the occasional distant hum of traffic. She checked her phone, ensuring the motion detectors were active. Each time she heard the familiar chime of a notification, she leapt to attention, scanning the alley for the slightest movement.

But the cat didn't show up. Hours passed. The moon climbed higher in the sky. Still no sign of it.

Just as Ayumi began to feel the weight of exhaustion settling in, her phone vibrated in her hand. The motion detector had triggered. She bolted upright, her heart racing.

A quick glance out the window revealed nothing. The alley was as still as ever. But then, just as the notification chimed again, Ayumi saw it. The cat was back—standing at the far end of the alley, staring directly at her apartment window. The golden eyes glowed faintly, even in the dim moonlight, and once again, the cat paused, as if sensing her presence.

Ayumi quickly checked her phone again. The motion detector had been activated—but there was no sign of the cat moving closer to the food. It was as if it was waiting for her to do something first.

Once more, it seemed to be toying with her. But this time, Ayumi wasn't going to let it win.

With a deep breath, she opened the door to her apartment and stepped into the hallway. She moved swiftly, not making a sound, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on the alley. She knew the cat was still there, watching. But she also knew that it wanted her to come out. It wanted to chase her.

She slipped out into the cold night, her boots tapping softly on the pavement. As she walked toward the alley, her senses heightened, she could feel her adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had to get closer—she had to corner it.

But the alley was empty when she arrived. Not a single sign of the cat.

Her heart sank. Where did it go? The alley was deserted, the streetlights casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. It felt as though the cat had disappeared into thin air.

Suddenly, Ayumi heard the soft sound of paw steps behind her. She spun around, but the alley was still empty. No cat.

And then, just as her nerves were beginning to fray, she saw something in the corner of her eye—movement. She turned toward it, and there it was. The black cat.

But it wasn't where she thought it would be. Instead, it was standing just behind her, its golden eyes fixed on her with an eerie intensity.

Ayumi gasped, taken completely off guard. It had circled around her while she was looking in the other direction, leading her on a wild goose chase.

Without thinking, she darted toward the cat, but before she could even take two steps, it vanished into the shadows, like a wisp of smoke.

Ayumi froze. She stood alone in the empty alley, the silence pressing down on her. The game had begun.

She was no closer to the truth than she had been before. The cat was taunting her, toying with her at every turn. Yet, with each failure, Ayumi's obsession only deepened. She wasn't going to give up. Not now. Not when she was so close.

The cat, whatever it was, knew she was watching. And it wasn't going to make it easy.

But Ayumi was determined. If this was a game, then she was going to win. She had to. Because there was no turning back.

The chase had only just begun.