Defeated, she returned home around midmorning, ready to face another empty space. Her heart felt as heavy as the storm clouds overhead. Approaching her door, she noticed the battered doormat, darkened with rain. She recalled how Orion used to sprawl there, soaking in sunshine. Tears welled again.
Stepping into the house, Eliza shut the door behind her, setting her damp jacket on the coat rack. She let out a shaky breath—and froze. In the hallway, an unmistakable sound reached her ears: “Meow.” She spun around, nearly dropping her keys. There, emerging from the dimness, was Orion.
She gasped, eyes filling with tears. Orion regarded her calmly, his green eyes bright, tail lightly swishing. As if he hadn’t been missing at all. The sheer relief that flooded Eliza’s body left her knees weak. Without thinking, she rushed forward, scooping him into her arms. “Oh my God, Orion, where were you?” Her voice broke, equal parts relief and exasperation.
His fur was damp, and he smelled faintly of earth. He nuzzled her chin, purring softly, as though to soothe her frayed nerves. Eliza clutched him tighter, tears streaming unchecked. Days of worry, sleepless nights, and frantic searching culminated in a single wave of overwhelming gratitude.
It was only after she set Orion down that Eliza noticed the ragged piece of paper beside him. Damp and crumpled, it bore spidery handwriting. She squinted at the jagged letters scrawled across the page: “THE END OF THE WORLD IS COMING.” Her blood ran cold. The note also referenced seeking shelter “beneath the floors.”
She had no clue how Orion found something like this—or why it spoke with such urgency. Fear twisted her stomach at the notion of a doomsday warning appearing in her hallway, paired with the eerie objects she’d already uncovered.
Eliza stared at the piece of paper, mind spinning. Where had Orion gotten it? He’d been gone for days, only to return as if it were no big deal, carrying what appeared to be a relic from another time. What corners of Maplewood had her cat explored?
Uncertain what to do, Eliza took the paper to the local history museum the next morning. Dr. Ellis, the curator, listened with rapt attention as Eliza described Orion’s disappearance, the child’s shoe, and now this cryptic apocalypse note.