you've never trusted them.
it starts off with the bristling of fur and watchful eyes from the room over. it escalates to hissing and spitting, and soon enough, whenever they come over, you’re locked in the children’s room. you don’t mind spending time with the twins, but…
you don’t trust them.
you’re never scolded, you’re loved and cherished too much for that. you love your humans, too.
and that’s why they need to know.
you don’t understand why they keep coming into your home, but you’re assured it’s for good reason. the two men continue to visit more and more often. it’s above your level of understanding, but you don’t exactly care to know, anyway. they need to go.
you start to catch onto the duo’s arrival times, and you hide. it’s not like you to hide, and the family is concerned. it hurts you to ignore their calls, but you know what needs to be done.
when they arrive this time, you attack the one, claws and teeth. you’re kicked to the side, and your humans panic.
for the first time in your life, you’re scolded.
you’re locked in the bathroom by yourself upstairs, and only allowed out when they leave. you don’t blame your family, they don’t know any better. you’re loved just the same when nerves settle, but it’s too little too late.
you’ll never be able to alert them in time.

smoke fills your nostrils. you’re roused from a peaceful sleep, blinking blearily.
the mansion is burning down around you.
you call in your native tongue, and it’s not met by any other language. panicked, you try to run upstairs, only for the stairwell to give out amidst your ascent. you come crashing back down to the ground level, and more of the home comes down with you. you’re lithe enough to free yourself from some fallen furniture and wood, but the smoke is beginning to get unbearable.
you realize this fire has been going for some time, and you have no way to reach your humans. first instinct is to trust they never left without you. making your way to the foyer, you confirm they haven’t. their shoes are still in their perfect little rows, coats still hung.
you hear voices outside.
it’s them.
they cackle, and you hear them leaving the scene.
it’s dark out, and you have no way to escape, no way to reach the higher parts of the house as it comes crashing down to meet you.
only seconds seem to pass as you panic, fretting about the ground level as you can, losing consciousness.
it goes black when a beam crashes down on top of you.

so, it only makes sense that you come to with a start. dust and ash has settled, and the fire has long burnt out. it takes a bit more energy than usual to push yourself up… and why is that table at eye level? once you’re on all fours again, the room (what’s left of it, at least) feels claustrophobic. everything seems soaked and smells decrepit. you can’t make sense of any of this, and wonder pitifully if this is a dream. hope wears thin as you try to fit through the collapsed doorway, but everything seems to freeze in time as you take notice to your form.
it feels like a sick joke, like your humans put you in another halloween costume… but that doesn’t explain anything. you look over more of yourself, only making more questions. you briskly make your way to the closest mirror you remember.
it takes less than half of the time you remember to get there. most of it is shattered and collapsed on the floor, some of it seemed to have fallen through to the basement level. what you see makes your head spin.
your now hulking form is several times the height of the male of the house, almost frightful in appearance. claws replace paws, features exaggerated and almost reptilian, rather than… feline.
nothing makes sense and pinching yourself (which is easy to do with opposable thumbs, you find) doesn’t seem to make you wake up. now you’re left with even more questions.
but that can wait. you immediately remember the fire, the one that seems to have actually had happened in this current timeline. with your current form, you could easily make your way to the upper stories. well,whatever’s left of them, at least.
your search is nothing short of mortifying, and everything sinks in.
this is real, your humans are found dead, and those people… they did this.

upon trying to leave the property in a enraged fit, you find it doesn’t work. try as you might, but something keeps you here. it’s probably the same supernatural force that made you… like this.

all you know, is if they ever show their face here again… you’d make quite good use of this new body.