The Many Names Of Cat Madigan

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Today, we shall talk about names. Because I don’t feel like talking about my friend who inexplicably turned up in Delirium. So there.

Obviously my name is not actually Cat Madigan. Not in Reality anyway. That would be way too cool.

The reason I do use Cat Madigan is because that’s the name I was given in Delirium. I had been given the nickname ‘Cat’ when I was in primary school, so I kept that part of me. My last name though, is nothing like Madigan. It just came out of the blue, and I was stuck with it.

I don’t mind it though. I like Madigan. Whenever I get the opportunity, I don’t call myself by my real name, I say “My name is Cat Madigan.” I took on that identity when I ran away. Sometimes by reflex, I almost call myself Cat Madigan, even with my friends.

It’s partially habit as well. When you spend almost as much time in Delirium as Reality, it takes a toll on what you identify with. As a result, I respond to two names; my real one and my Delirium one.

I used my Delirium name because obviously, if I used my real name, my parents would most likely find this blog. I know, it’s not best for our already strained relationship if I keep secrets from them. But to explain a whole other universe that only exists in my head to one of the most judgemental people in the world would be too much to handle; they’d be angry at me for not telling them, and then they’d begin trying to stop it at every turn, until they eventually lock me up like an animal. And I really don’t want to run away again. What else is there to do if you’re locked in a cage?

Apparently, in Ireland, Madigan means ‘little dog’. That’s sort of ironic, isn’t it?

You have another name.

Eh?

Your hand, Cat.

…oh. Thankyou Kaya.

Yeah, there’s that one too. Five letters following, F R E A K. That’s my third name. It doesn’t hurt me though. Not like it once would’ve. Yes, I’m a freak. A complete anomaly. I’ve always known that though. And when you think about it, the freaks are the ones that are stronger, aren’t they?

Another thing about names; I wonder how I came up with all the ones from Delirium. Daniel and Kaya for example. Like, why would Daniel call himself Daniel as opposed to Mark or Lawrence or something. And I’ve never met anyone named Kaya before. Just like I’ve never met Thommand before, or Nereida, or pretty much anyone in Delirium with those names.

This is turning into me rambling about random things, so I am just going to look up those names and what they mean.

Daniel means: God is my judge. Apparently there was a prophet in the bible who rose to favour by interpreting visions that the king had. He also had four visions of the end of the world. Whoa….

Kaya means: Willow, wise child, yew tree, forgiveness (…really? Kaya?), home, stone. Well that tells us a lot. Not.

I couldn’t find Thommand, but I did find Thomas. It means ‘twin’, and probably ‘doubtful’, according to the bible story.

Nereida is a nymph or sea sprite. Well that part hasn’t changed.

Christan, I’m guessing, is a deviation on Christian.

I think I’ve rambled on enough about names for one post, so while I’m here, I’m going to give you a quick update on things. I have numerous assignments which require finishing, and I had my school social on Friday. Since then, my friends can’t stop singing a particular song involving me, another person and trees. Ugh…

Till next time.

Cat Madigan

The Drawer

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“Let me out!” I’m screaming at the door, shaking it open.

There’s no response, but I refuse to let up. “Daniel, I swear to god, if you don’t let me out now, you’re going to be beheaded.”

“What, again? And no, you need to recuperate, and I don’t trust you wandering the castle by yourself.”

“I feel fine!” I object.

“Cat.” Daniel’s voice was tired. “Your head was cut off.”

“Don’t remind me,” I warn him. “I still want revenge for your sloppy stitching.”

“Please Cat, it’s only for one more day. You’re still unwell, just lie down. Your brain has been through a lot.”

“Fine.” I hear him walk away from the door, and I throw myself onto the bed in a rage. “Fuck!” I scream into a pillow. I am such a teenager, I think to myself. I hate it.

At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep. It’s strange…it’s more peaceful falling asleep here than in Reality somehow. Dreaming in the dream…someone should make that the title of a song. Or a book. Either way, I wake up under the covers of Daniel’s bed. It’s warm and it smells like him, like the candles on his desk.

From the bed, I can see it in the corner of the room. Not much care has gone into making it. I wonder why Daniel doesn’t get splinters. Maybe he does, but he doesn’t show it. I wish I could do that.

I get out, and I realise my clothes have been changed. The fabric is so smooth it feels like water on my skin, and in a moment, I’m lost in the sensation.

Then my mind snaps back to the present, and I’m wondering who the hell changed my clothes. It’s only a couple of seconds of considering the potential culprits before I decide that I really do not want to know.

So I push away the uneasy thoughts of Daniel or some stranger taking off my clothes while I slept, and tread towards the desk. It’s like my desk in Reality; completely cluttered with objects. A stack of papers are pushed into a discreet corner, in a language I can’t really discern. The candles have gone out, but the sweet, warm smell of the wax remains.

What catches my eye are the books. Books are everywhere, and some are even in English. One of them reads Grimm’s Fairy Tales, with a ornamental knife stuck in as a bookmark. I smile at the thought of Daniel reading this to his goddaughter. It feels like the sort of thing he’d do.

There are cups stacked up in a tower, almost reaching the ceiling. God, Daniel’s worse than me when it comes to cleaning. The cups are dainty and pretty, and yet I know that he would’ve just thrown the cups onto the tower, higher and higher.

Then I check the top drawer and I find the pictures.

It is done in black ink on a browning piece of parchment. This is no doodle, this has been done with care and love. It seems like it’s Kaya herself who is staring back at me, with her scars and haunting eyes.

There are more. Ray is there, drawn in one of the trees she climbs. A young woman, though not as young as me, stares out at me with dead eyes, her face lined with sadness, almost as prominent as her tattoos. I recognise another woman, another girl I saw die, long ago. She grins tauntingly, as if she knows what hell I went through to find what had happened. I suppose in the end, it was worth it. If only a slight bit.

Then I find me. It’s been drawn from behind, but only I have a birthmark and five red letters on my left hand. When I pick the drawing up, a key falls to my feet. I just stare at it for a moment, before picking it up and trying it in the bottom drawer.

It fits perfectly. But I’m reluctant to see what’s inside. What could be so horrible that it would need to be locked? Do I want to know what Daniel needs to hide? I shake my head. I don’t want Daniel to join the number of enemies in Delirium, anyone but Daniel. And yet, there’s a tiny voice in the back of my head reminding me that it would be just as dangerous to not know Daniel’s motives.

So I look.

Another drawing. Just a single drawing.

Daniel’s arms are around me, his face glowing with a serenity I haven’t really seen before in life. And I’m happy. I see myself and I know that I am truly happy in this picture, as if this were where I belonged in this world. This drawing of me has a cheeky but shy look on her face, and she rests comfortably against Daniel.

I close the drawer immediately, my head screaming out, What is going on?! Something has happened. I don’t know what, but I know deep down that something important has happened to me.

Then I see a reflection in the window, and I spin around with a snarl on my lips and my knife at the ready. “Who are you?” I growl.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Object

Silence of the Cat

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Here’s the challenge link . And now, here’s another tale of a mad Cat.

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It was hot and stuffy upon awakening. My skin was sticky, and I could smell something foul. When I try to move, my arms push against something scratchy and strong, which prevents me from extending my limbs. Encased in darkness and unable to move my arms or legs, I roll over onto my side. When I roll over once more though, I feel the earth slip out from beneath me, and I’m falling to the ground.

It hurts, and I can’t breathe for a moment. I’m lying on my stomach, and I realise there’s a small, cold object pressed against my mouth. I take it between my teeth and yank it down. Cool air rushes through the bag, and I take a huge gulp of it, before dragging the zipper lower. Eventually, my hand can wiggle up and grab it and pull it down all by myself. When I have enough space to do so, I lift my head out of the bag.

I’m not the only corpse here. An old man is decomposing in a dark corner, while in two bags next to me, the forms of two unknown people I’m assuming are human lie.

My last memories come back. I had died, again. It was fairly quick this time, and no one had slit my throat. There’s a bump on the head from where the metal bar struck.

I wonder if this is where they put the bodies. It’s hard to tell; in this prison, there’s rotting flesh in the living cells as well as the dead. Either way, they had no idea of what they locked up in here. Cat Madigan, undead warrior. In a way.

I look around in the dark, feeling around for objects and praying that my hand does not touch a bone or a rotting corpse. It’s some time before I return to my body bag, where I find the metal bar which put me there. It’s strange that they would put the weapon used to murder me in the same bag as my body, but then I hear footsteps, and I don’t bother questioning my good fortune.

I’ve hidden in a corner, and when the door opens, I’m concealed behind it. One of the monsters comes in, grunting as he pulls in a couple of human sized bags. To my amazement, he doesn’t see me, as I crouch behind the massive door. Clutching the weapon used to kill me, I decide to get my revenge.

He doesn’t live long enough to turn around. I strike him again and again, till I’m satisfied. Then I realise that the door would probably have been left open anyway. This is a room of corpses, and corpses don’t rise from the dead.

I slip out the door, leaving the monster with his victims, and I remember the words of Kaya. I keep in the darkness, the shadows are my friend as I navigate the gloomy prison. The only ones who see me are the prisoners. Their empty eyes stare out at me, but they won’t tell on me. I’m one of them, in a way.

Finally, I reach a place where I am certain Daniel will go. In this prison, there is a wall, which has been broken and melted, and has refused to be repaired. This is where the freak escaped, and where they realised their biggest mistake.

I’m not surprised when two guards come out of their shadows, one shoving his sword under my neck. I shiver at the sensation, and close my eyes, waiting for the sword to bite at my throat, piercing the skin.

But Daniel’s sword gets him first.

The other raises his sword at me and swings it down. I fling myself out of it’s way, and I snatch the little dagger Daniel throws to me. I cannot fight, I am useless at swords. But…

I dodge his blows one by one, and once I’m behind him, I rise the dagger.

I’m very good at cheating.

Even though I have little use for it, I pick up his sword before running out after Daniel, treading on his bloody body. I leap off the edge of the building, landing on a thick, leathery hide. It smells of sulphur and smoke, but it’s warm, and it makes me tired.

Then we fly.

The Rage of a Cat

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It’s another Weekly Writing Challenge! Yayyyy.

The picture is called Emptiness, but when I see it, I see a lonely building, which may be fun to play the How To Survive the Zombie Apocolypse Game. And I think of my most recent venture in Delirium, which turned out more…positive than normal. Do you want to hear about it? Of course you don’t. But I don’t care.

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Where am I this time? I don’t know this place. But since when have I ever known where I am going?

The building is dark and crumbling, and blue, plantlike objects cover the walls. I reckon I have about five minutes before Daniel pops up next to me, so I decide to explore further.

I wonder what all this used to be. Another time, another world. It would’ve been filled with people, alive and bright.

There have been many places I’ve visited in Delirium. I remember a temple under water, filled with light and colour, the sweet singing of sirens echoing throughout it. I look at my dilapidated surroundings and I find myself asking what is so wrong with this earth that they would build a temple underwater instead?

I walk along the hallway, looking for light. It is long and is barely illuminated by the holes in the ceiling. I finally come across a door and I struggle to pull it open.

What I see makes me turn around and vomit.

The girl has golden hair, and her eyes that stare dully at the window are a turquoise that would’ve been beautiful. She hangs by her arms and a single leg from the ceiling, her head and arms pulled back by cords attached to her body. What shocks me most are her lips. They’ve rotted, and are pulled into a twisted smile, is that meant to be beautiful? This girl was once a dancer, a girl on the brink of womanhood, a girl who loved to be free. This display, a bloody puppet dangling by several threads, is anything but.

There’s another smell in the room suddenly. “Don’t come near me,” I warn.

He chuckles. His body might as well be a corpse, its temperature is no different from the dead girl’s. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“There shouldn’t be a body hanging here either, when you think about it,” I reply. “Not exactly pleasant decoration.”

“I meant here.” He gestures to the world around him. “You aren’t from here.”

“Of course not.” I don’t look at his face, his dead, twisted face. “What had this girl done?”

He gives a high giggle. “Wrong place, very wrong time.”

I grimace. “Her skin…”

“So you understand.” This is no question he’s asking me.

“I’ve seen your prisons. I can say they’re the only thing worse than this place here. And more importantly, I’ve seen those in them.” I remember my temporary imprisonment, and the deal with the devil that set me free. “This girl is one of them. Well, was one of them. What happened to her?”

“The same that happens to them all, eventually. Afterwards, some of our dependants are left to deal with them.” He has not moved this whole time, but I feel his voice in my ear all the same. “There are more of these around this place, if you would like to look further.”

I shake my head. “Forgive me, I have had enough of corpses.” I pause, and I’m surprised that I feel calm, despite this psychopath standing behind me. “Kaya is not a puppet though.”

“No, she isn’t,” he concedes.

“And she didn’t die in your prisons either.”

“…no.”

A smirk appears on my face. “What happened there?” I ask, playing devil’s advocate.

“…they thought the girl was useless, a dud. Five years had gone with her, and nothing had happened. Well, nothing they could see; had someone stronger seen her, they would’ve known immediately what she could do.”

“So why didn’t they?”

“I believe that’s enough. Curiosity killed the cat, I believe?”

“I can’t die,” I tell him. “I’ve tried too many times, Delirium and Reality. And I’m still alive…somehow.”

“Well.” His voice takes on an edge I don’t detect until there’s only a split second to do something. “How about we try something new?”

And he rushes at me.

I dive out of the way, skidding across the ground. “Oh, are we running today?” he calls. “We can play tag, Ms Madigan.”

I’m less slow this time, and I crash against the wall. The two seconds I spend in stunned immobility are my undoing, and he catches my arm and twists it. I howl with the pain, and he gives me a laugh that turns my stomach. “You lose,” he informs me. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to play this game again.”

Then, all of a sudden, he is the one howling.

It’s not Daniel who attacked him. Or even Kaya.

My hands are burning with something akin to fire, or perhaps electricity. These thoughts don’t matter, as I throw back my arm and hurl a mass of light at him. It hits the wall behind him, and it crumples. I think I see the dancer’s corpse dissolve before me. “Do not,” I snarl. “Ever.” I launch another at him and this time, his arm turns to ash. “Think.”

He turns to run, but I throw myself through the air at him, and land on him. I start throwing punches, I want to hit him, to beat him senseless. “Call.” My voice got shriller every word I spoke. “Me…”

He manages to flip me onto my back, only to get singed by my hands. “WEAK!” I shriek, my voice echoing throughout the building.

The next few seconds are a blur, but the outcome still angers me. I let myself be distracted for a split second when Daniel dashes into the room, and the monster takes the opportunity to run from the building, fleeing through the wall, in which I completely destroyed.

I crumple to the ground. “Shit!” I cry.

Daniel runs up to me. “Don’t touch me!” I plead.

“Cat, what the hell happened?”

My hands are still glowing, but they begin to fade. “What do you think?” I croak, watching my hands return to normal, only my five letters retaining a glow to them.

“This…” Daniel shakes his head. “There is no way-”

“But it happened.”

“What are you Cat Madigan?”

“Something weird,” I whisper. Everything swims in my head; my hands of fire and lightning, the smell of charred flesh, but most of all, the desire to watch the man die, burning and screaming before me.

I am sickened by my thoughts, and before I say a word, I fall into Daniel’s arms as everything goes black.

A Visit

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Describing a scene…what is there to describe in my world? A boring bus station full of bitchy school girls, a bedroom which is essentially being used to store every single thing my mother buys and can’t make room for, and a school which would be lovely if it weren’t spoiled by the girls in it.

That’s what’s in Reality…

Let me go into Delirium now…

I’m in a forest, or at least what remains of one. Under my feet, the ground is ice cold, because that’s what it is; ice.

There aren’t any other places which are frozen over. This is the one place in Delirium where the ground is solid water. And it’s cursed.

How I ended up here, I don’t know. But I always seem to. This isn’t the first time I’ve been to the Lake of Ghosts.

Daniel’s with me, making sure nothing happens. And by nothing happens, I mean no one leaps from the shadows and runs me through with a sword. I’ve never been here with him before, and I’m glad he’s here now. He’s the only person I like here that’s still alive. Anyone else is dead or god knows where…

“How did this happen?” I ask him.

He hesitates before telling me. The water levels had gone up and up, drowning villages and forests and mountains in its wake. The water then froze, leaving behind a nightmare.

The tops of the branches stick out from under the ice. It has frozen around them, and you can see the rest of the tree underneath. This isn’t like ice in Reality, I don’t think. I haven’t really seen ice in Reality though; I haven’t been to the snow since I was two. But I can see through this ice, albeit with a swirly quality to the sight.

We walk to an area with no branches sticking out of the ice. “You see here?” Daniel said. “We just walked off a cliff.”

“What?” I look back. The ice is silvery, whereas before you could see where the floor of the forest once was. I look down.

Shit.

“Calm down,” Daniel hisses.

I manage to do so. But then I see something in the ice. I walk over to it, ignoring Daniel’s warning.

From where I was standing before, it was a dark mass in the ice, no shape to it whatsoever. Now I see it from a closer view…

It’s eyes are blue, and they gaze at me emotionlessly. The man had dark hair, raven black hair. And his body looks like it would be flying…if it hadn’t been trapped in the frozen water.

“Cat, we need to go,” Daniel tells me. He’s right, because now the Lake of Ghosts grows darker, and shadows are coming. They hiss at me, they know me.

Taking Daniel’s hand, I let him return me back.

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“Cat!” Daniel’s shaking me awake.

The scene around me changes, and I’m back in my bedroom/the storage space. “Thank you,” I tell him.

He just shakes his head.

If you’re interested in the challenge, click the link here. I’m leaving for a place called La La Land tomorrow, and I should be back in Wonderland by Sunday. So forgive me if I don’t update for a bit.

Cat Madigan