Felix
Behind that Crazy Premise
The Hollow Man
a Splintercat Horror Story
A couple came out the door of Denise's Dozen Omelets. They were obviously not from around here, seeing how formal they were dressed. The older man got into the driver's seat. He was dressed in a striped business suit, the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. He had an expensive-looking Rolex around his wrist and a ring around his annulary. A much younger woman stepped in at the other side. She wore a strapless black dress and a pearl necklace. Anyone who would observe them better would notice something strange. Something was missing, and it was not just the woman's wedding ring.
The man started the car and drove to the main road out of time. 'Margaret and the kids know about this trip, right Richard?' The woman asked. 'She does know about you and me, doesn't she?'
'Yes, I told them.' Richard lied. 'Now stop asking that question over and over. It's really turning me off.'
Margaret had never heard of Scarlet. She knew her as miss Hart, her husband's secretary. Richard told her that he was going on a business trip, but -apart from the fact that he was with a colleague- this journey had nothing to do with business. Scarlet and Richard hired a cabin in the woods, just a day driving from their hometown, Portland. It wasn't their own money either. They stole it from their own company. Of course there was money for much more, but that would be suspicious. It was just a short weekend to celebrate and then they would go their own way and never see each other again.
They turned left into a small dirt road which led to the cabin. At the side of the road stood a lot of trees. Some of them were snapped off in the middle, those appeared to be hollow. The ground was covered in big splinters of tree bark.
‘What the hell happened to those trees?’ Scarlet asked. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Locals say it’s the Splintercat,’ Richard answered. ‘They say it’s a feline that bashes it’s had against hollow trees to crack them open and eat the honey or raccoons inside them. They must be even more headstrong than you are.’ He laughed.
‘Watch out Rick, or this headstrong pussy will crack your nuts’ She said daringly.
‘You know I love it when you talk dirty’ Rick said while he pulled the car over and leaned in for a kiss.
About an hour later they finally reached the cabin, both still sweaty and hot. It was already dark so they couldn’t see much. They went inside. It was your typical lumberjack cabin. There were three rooms: a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. Almost everything was made of wood except for the fireplace. The walls were decorated with old saws and a rusted hunting rifle. ‘I’m tired, let’s go to bed already,’ Scarlet whined. ‘Tomorrow we can celebrate and get it on again.’
Scarlet was asleep almost immediately, but Rick couldn’t. Late at night, in bed, was when the guilt would kick in. His consciousness would tell him that it was wrong to cheat on his wife, wrong to lie to Scarlet, wrong to steal from his boss and leave his wife and kids behind. Above it all he felt wrong because he didn’t feel bad about those things. He didn’t really feel bad for others. He didn’t love others. He was an egoist. He was a hollow man. He stared at the ceiling with his empty eyes until he too fell asleep.
Crack! A loud crack echoed thru the house. Both Rick and Scarlet shot up. Immediately completely awake and taking in their surroundings. Rick flicked on the light switch. He got up in his pajamas. Crack! The noise sounded again, closer this time. ‘What is that?’ Scarlet asked with a trembling voice. ‘I guess it’s some kind of animal’ Rick said. He too was frightened. ‘Could it be …’ He didn’t need to end the fought since Scarlet probably had the same one.
Crack! The whole house shuddered on its grounds. ‘It’s bashing the house!’ Rick quickly went to the living room to get out of the house when needed. Crack! The house shook again, heavier this time. The old rifle fell from the walls. He picked it up and checked the barrel. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was still loaded. ‘Stay here!’ he warned Scarlet. Crack! He followed the sound. It came from the wall in the kitchen. There were already a lot of fissures in the wall he could see from the inside. Crack! Now he could actually see through it. In the dark he could make out a badger-like animal. It lept back to jump again. It jumped faster than Rick could perceive. Crack! The animal’s head was stuck in the wall. It was the head of the ugliest cat Rick ever saw. It looked like it had a huge tumor of bone structure on his forehead. It was dark and sticky of its own blood. The Splintercat was real after all. It tried to get his head out. That was enough to break Rick out of his astonishment. He put the gun against the animals head and pulled the trigger. Bang!
Richard was thrown back and fell on his back. He couldn’t hear anything. Did he really just kill the Splintercat? ‘Rick, are you ok?! Scarlet yelled from the bedroom. ‘I’m fine!’ He said. ‘I … I think I just killed the sp-splintercat.’ He still couldn’t quite believe it. And neither should he. The cat in question roared loudly, clearly in pain. Blood was trickling over it's skull, but the wound did not seem deep enough.
‘Quick run to the fireplace!’ Rick yelled while he ran towards it. ‘He can’t bash his head thru stone.’
Crack! The cat was almost thru the wooden wall. Rick helped Scarlet into the chimney. They started climbing to the roof. Crack! They finally reached the roof. They jumped of and ran to the car. Crack! Scarlet got in and locked the door. ‘Come on Scar, let me in!’ Rick screamed ‘This isn’t funny!’ But she only stared at him blankly. He had never loved her and she knew. The cat in the house bellowed another frustrated roar in the house and jumped back outside. Scarlet started the car while Rick was still yelling, banging his head and hands at the car windows and crying like a little kid. The animal heard the car engine and walked into the car’s head light. The beast was even uglier up close. It had a crooked back, two laughably stocky fore paws and two froglike muscular hind legs. It walked back, crouched, ready to jump Rick. Rick was petrified. The fear didn't allow him to move anymore. A warm stream was trickling down his leg. Shivering he took a step around to start running, but it was already too late.
Scarlet drove backwards and turned the car around to flee. In the mirror she could see the beast jump. Crack! Horrified she drove away and didn’t look back. Never again.
So that’s the story of how he hollow man was finally cracked. His soul went nowhere since it wasn’t there in the first place, but the Splintercat remained. Still don’t believe me? Then why don’t you go find out for yourself? Ask any lumberjack. Or, if you have the guts, take a left turn on route 22 and get splintered.
An excerpt from a letter by Lewis McArthur, 1944
"However, it seems to me that the Oregonian has neglected the splintercat. The animal has never been mentioned in your columns, or if it has, I have never seen the item. As woodsmen know, the splintercat is a nocturnal feline animal of great ferocity. It flies through the air with terrific speed and when it hits a large tree, it knocks the branches off, withers the trunk and leaves it standing like a silvery ghost. You have seen these dead snags in many parts of Oregon."
"The late T.H. Sherrard of the forest service first called my attention to the splintercat and described its activities. He admitted he had never seen one. But many years ago he and Dee Wright were camped near Hambone butte in the Clackamas River country, and in the night he heard a splintercat crash into a tree with great vigor. The next morning Tom found a giant snag not more than 100 feet from camp and he was quite certain that the splintercat was the cause of its destruction."
"It is only fair to say that when I asked Dee Wright about it, he said that he, Dee, was prowling around in the night and tripped over a log. That would account for the hubbub because Dee was very spirited, but it would not account for the dead snag."
"The fact that nobody ever saw a splintercat is no proof that it doesn't exist. Lots of people working on the swing shift are never seen in the daylight. The proof that the animals do exist may be seen in the fact that there is a fine little tributary to Roaring River that bears the name Splintercat Creek, and the name is on official government maps."
"It has been pointed out that quadrupeds don't ordinarily fly. You will recall that the walrus, in his memorable monologue on natural history, wondered if pigs had wings. Well, we don't have to ponder that question when it comes to cats. Cats have wings and the Oregonian says so. If your readers will look at Mr. Robert Ripley's drawing published on April 10 they will find a picture of a cat with wings, and that should settle the business. May we have more adequate treatment of the splintercat"
"However, it seems to me that the Oregonian has neglected the splintercat. The animal has never been mentioned in your columns, or if it has, I have never seen the item. As woodsmen know, the splintercat is a nocturnal feline animal of great ferocity. It flies through the air with terrific speed and when it hits a large tree, it knocks the branches off, withers the trunk and leaves it standing like a silvery ghost. You have seen these dead snags in many parts of Oregon."
"The late T.H. Sherrard of the forest service first called my attention to the splintercat and described its activities. He admitted he had never seen one. But many years ago he and Dee Wright were camped near Hambone butte in the Clackamas River country, and in the night he heard a splintercat crash into a tree with great vigor. The next morning Tom found a giant snag not more than 100 feet from camp and he was quite certain that the splintercat was the cause of its destruction."
"It is only fair to say that when I asked Dee Wright about it, he said that he, Dee, was prowling around in the night and tripped over a log. That would account for the hubbub because Dee was very spirited, but it would not account for the dead snag."
"The fact that nobody ever saw a splintercat is no proof that it doesn't exist. Lots of people working on the swing shift are never seen in the daylight. The proof that the animals do exist may be seen in the fact that there is a fine little tributary to Roaring River that bears the name Splintercat Creek, and the name is on official government maps."
"It has been pointed out that quadrupeds don't ordinarily fly. You will recall that the walrus, in his memorable monologue on natural history, wondered if pigs had wings. Well, we don't have to ponder that question when it comes to cats. Cats have wings and the Oregonian says so. If your readers will look at Mr. Robert Ripley's drawing published on April 10 they will find a picture of a cat with wings, and that should settle the business. May we have more adequate treatment of the splintercat"
