Cat Woman — a short story for English reading and speaking

James thrust his hands deeper into his coat pockets and wrapped himself in the heat inside.

He clenched his hands into two fists and pulled his shoulders up.

The station platform was deserted.

Just at the far end, someone rummaging through a bin. At least they had more suitable clothing on than him. What looked like a big comforter being used as a scarf to cover their head.

He glanced up at the station clock.

One minute and the train would arrive. Hopefully, on time.

These late nights in the office were beginning to get to him. He was starting to feel like a rat on a wheel.

He got home and was then too wired to go to bed immediately.

So he sat up for an hour or so, scrolling through useless stuff online.

Then the following morning, he felt like death. And do it all again.

“This is the last train.”

James jolted and turned to the voice.

There in front of him, the homeless person collecting trash from the bins.

He was surprised to find that it was a woman.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Right.”

How did you engage with a homeless person? What kind of things did you say to them?

And this woman was ancient too. Dozens of lines ran across her face.

She opened her mouth and beamed a smile at him. She had no teeth.

“The last train,” she said again.

“Yes,” said James.

Was she waiting for him to give her something? He had some change. He could give her that.

James pulled out his phone.

An easy distraction and he could just stare at the screen until the bag lady left him alone.

He checked to see any messages from anyone and saw a news link. He clicked it.

A news story of another killing in the city. This time an old man was out walking his dog. The usual lurid details.

How the lacerations resembled that of the claws of a large cat.

But no wild animals had been reported missing from the city zoo.

James clicked something else. But in the corner of his eye, he could still see the old woman staring at him.

He turned to her.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked her. Not altogether unfriendly, but said with just the right amount of authority to imply that he wanted her to leave.

“Are you alone?” she asked him. Her eyes twinkled in the light, a yellowy-green colour. And her smile. Not exactly an open, friendly smile, more predatory, waiting for an opening.

James was taken aback by this question.

He let out a laugh. A single exhalation of air.

“What? Yes, I’m alone.”

The woman nodded back at him, grinning her toothless smile at him.

James turned away. He looked at the clock again. Checked the same time on his phone.

Where was this damn train?

Then he heard cackling.

He almost turned. But he knew it was that crazy old bag lady.

Don’t pay her any more attention. Just keep walking to the far end of the platform.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t get on the train. She was just here to rummage through the trash cans.

He had a strong urge to look over his shoulder and make sure she wasn’t shuffling along behind him. Instead, he pulled his phone up and clicked on the screen.

A video link was sent to a group he was in.

He clicked it, and it showed a news anchor at the scene of the latest attack. A dark, deserted street — well, usually deserted, now filled with news people, cops and paramedics — and the anchor with perfect hair and a serious tone and expression.

She droned on about the latest attack.

James pulled the screen away from his face. The cops would catch him. No doubt. They always found these maniacs.

“Why you on your own?”

James spun around and there she was again.

Grey bird-nest hair sprawled out from her head. Her grey-green eyes twinkled back at him.

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude,” said James. “But what do you want?”

She grinned back at him.

But this time he noticed teeth.

Maybe he missed that before. But he was sure she was completely toothless the first time he looked at her.

Whitish little stumps, like sawn-off molars in her mouth. All the same size. All near identical.

And her tongue. Large and pink with stubs on it.

She was grotesque.

“But why…”

The woman’s mouth opened wider, and the words dissolved into a wailing kind of cry.

James backed away from her, unable to comprehend what exactly he was looking at.

He glanced around the station platform, hoping to find another person. Someone to walk up to and start talking to.

The woman edged closer to him, taking tiny steps that made him feel less safe, less secure, even though he towered over her in height.

“All alone,” she purred back at him. Her grin spread wider across her face.

Her teeth.

This time whiter than before, and sharper. Like perfectly arranged knives filing out from her bright red gums.

And the tongue, it flicked across her teeth, the barbs like tiny little cups to catch every drop of fluid in her mouth.

James’ back hit the barrier.

He was at the end of the platform. And the woman continued to creep towards him, toying with him, enjoying his vulnerability.

“Get away from me,” James tried to call out. But his words came out of his mouth like a tiny squeak.

The woman’s tongue flicked across her fangs. Bigger and sharper now. Like daggers.

Then she reached out with one arm, and her hand, covered in fine greyish hairs, flicked out her fingers. And from the fingers flicked sharp claws like curved blades.

James tried to scream.

Then the woman pounced on him.