It all began like any other day in the city of Shadevale. The mist hung low, covering the cobblestone streets like a soft, endless blanket, while the old rooftops creaked under the weight of the morning dew. I was at the office of the CRT, the Cat Recovery Team, going over the day’s reports. Shadevale always had something strange going on, especially when it came to cats.
The CRT's main office felt like my second home. Books were stacked in every corner, old maps covered the walls, and there was always the smell of tea wafting from Mrs. Elena’s desk, the receptionist. She was always typing with a speed that belied her age, organizing missions for the agents. If there was an interesting case, she would be the first to know.
“Today we received something peculiar,” said Mrs. Elena without even looking up from her screen. “A cat with a never-ending cold has gone missing. The owners are worried. He was always snotty, and now… there’s no trace of him.”
“A case like any other,” I thought at first. But why not? There could be something more interesting behind this.
“A never-ending cold?” I asked, trying to get Mrs. Elena to share more details.
“Exactly! It seems nobody remembers seeing him without snot,” she replied, with a half-smile as she pushed an envelope toward me. “But listen to this: the only trace they found of him is… his snot. It’s everywhere in the house. And there are no signs of how he could have gotten out.”
I picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside was a brief description of the cat: his name was Ozzy, a gray Persian with big amber eyes and, apparently, a chronic case of snot. The owners, an elderly couple who lived near Misty Park, were very worried. The strangest part was that, according to their testimony, it seemed the cat had disappeared without a trace… except for the snot.
“I think I’m going to need an extra scarf,” I murmured to myself as I reviewed the notes.
Mrs. Elena shot me a look that said “be careful.” She always did that when she sensed something was off, and her intuition was infallible.
“Be careful. Shadevale is mistier than usual today,” she warned, as I buttoned my coat and got ready to leave.
The path to the elderly couple’s house took me through the winding streets of Shadevale. The sky was cloudy, and the mist seemed to thicken as I approached Misty Park. The city had a perpetually mysterious air, with its dark alleys and old lanterns flickering in the fog. There was something unsettling about the silence enveloping the streets, something that felt like it was waiting for… something.
Finally, I arrived at Ozzy’s owners’ house, a quaint little cottage with a front garden shrouded in mist. I gently knocked on the door, and after a few seconds, I was greeted by a short elderly woman with a wrinkled face and worried eyes.
“You must be from the CRT, right?” she said nervously. “Please, come in. We don’t know what to do. Ozzy… he’s never left like this.”
I stepped into the house, and the first thing I noticed was a series of used tissues scattered across the floor, as if Ozzy had been in the middle of a sneezing storm before disappearing. The elderly couple told me that the last time they saw the cat was the night before. Ozzy was curled up in his favorite blanket, sneezing as always, but by morning he was gone. The only thing they found was a strange snot mark on the pantry door.
As they spoke, my mind began to run through the possibilities: a cat doesn’t just evaporate like that, especially one with such an… obvious condition. I checked the spot where he usually slept. The blanket still had traces of his snot, but something felt off. I approached the pantry; the snot mark the couple mentioned was still there, but the strangest thing was that the pantry door… was locked from the inside.
“How is that possible?” I murmured as I tried to open it. Finally, I succeeded, and the inside of the pantry seemed normal… until I saw something on the floor. Another snot mark, but this time there was a trail, as if someone or something had slipped through a small opening in the back of the wall.
The hole was too small for a cat the size of Ozzy. This was getting stranger than I had imagined. I decided to follow the trail, which led me to the basement of the house. The owners told me they had never gone down there since moving in, but something in my gut told me there was something down there.
I cautiously descended the stairs, illuminated by the dim light of a lamp I found at the entrance of the basement. The walls were damp, and the smell of mold was strong, but what really caught my attention were the snot marks scattered across the floor. They were getting bigger, as if Ozzy had been… melting.
At the back of the basement, I found a small wooden door that seemed to lead somewhere underground. I swallowed hard and carefully opened the door. What I saw on the other side left me speechless.
It was a tunnel, dark and narrow, filled with little snot marks that glowed under the light of my lamp. This was no simple case of a missing cat. Something else was happening here.
I followed the tunnel for what felt like hours until I finally arrived at an underground room. It was filled with old artifacts covered in dust and what looked like… cat toys. In the center of the room, a circle of snot surrounded a strange figure that seemed to be moving slowly.
“Ozzy…” I whispered, and the cat turned to look at me.
Ozzy was staring at me from the center of the underground room, trapped in a web of sticky snot. There was no magic or strange creatures. The cat, in his feline curiosity, had found a hidden tunnel beneath the house, an old forgotten structure. His chronic cold had left the place covered in sneezes and snot, making everything seem more mysterious than it really was.
With a cloth, I freed him from the mess and carried him in my arms. Upon returning, the elderly couple welcomed him back with relief, grateful that their dear Ozzy was safe.
Just another curious cat with a never-ending cold. Another case solved for the CRT.