Hate Us and Die Book Cover

Ever wonder what your pets are thinking? Ever wish you could talk to them, or have full on conversations?

I did. Ever since I was a kid. I remember watching cartoons with all the cool talking animals, and I wanted to live in a world like that. A world where my animal companions could tell me about their lives, their day, every aspect of their being.

I got what I wanted, and now I am going to kill myself, because knowing how they really feel about us, knowing what they really think of the human race, is far more terrible than anyone could ever imagine.

It all started two weeks ago. I was just wandering around downtown late at night. I had gotten off of work and didn't want to go right home. So I went out for a stroll. Seeing the life and people on the street always made me feel alive.

Along the way I met a man. He looked homeless. He asked me for a few dollars. I opened my wallet, and the smallest bill I had was a $20. I was hesitant. Now, most of the street kids in my city have an act to go with their request. Some will sing, some will tell you a poem, some will tell your tarot cards. This man, apparently, would grant wishes. That's what he told me anyway.

I thought, okay, what's the harm. The guy is clearly full of crap, but I was feeling generous, so I handed him the money. He smiled and asked me what I wanted as my wish. I thought it over, even though I knew this was all for fun, I figured I would go along with it. Thinking back to my earliest years, I conjured up the one request that I recalled the most often from my childhood.

"I want to be able to talk with animals. Not just talk to them, but actually talk with them. Understand their words and have them understand mine."

The homeless man simply smiled, clapped his hands once, and said, "Granted!"

He then walked away. Just like that.

I still felt good about myself though. I helped a guy eat for at least a night or two. I went home. By the time I got to my front door, I had honestly forgotten about my wish.

I had two cats. That night, as I climbed into bed, I was introduced to terror on a new level, one that I will not be able to live with much longer.

I got into bed and as usual, my two cats jumped into the bed with me. I closed my eyes and started to drift, when I heard whispering. Not exactly a human whisper, but a sort of high pitched, demonic in a way, and directed towards me.

"He is still alive..."

"We can't kill him, he feeds us..."

"I hate him so much..."

"We both do... but remember, all of this is temporary..."

I sat bolt upright. I turned on the lights and started searching the house. Clearly I was imagining this. I lived alone, I knew I turned off the television. Those voices were right next to me... I honestly had no idea where they were coming from.

I looked everywhere, no radio or television was turned on. I tried to convince myself that I had started to drift off to sleep and that I imagined it all. I took a couple of sleep aids, turned on the television and slept on the couch.

The next day I went to work. As I was walking through the downtown park area, I heard a gruff, deep and purely evil voice.

"I want to bite off your fucking little face... I want to rip open your throat. I'll lick your ugly, hairless face for now, because soon enough it will be my teeth in your face."

I looked in the direction of this horrible litany of threats, and saw a large German Shepard licking its owner's face. As it licked and panted, it continued to hurl fierce and angry threats at its owner.

I thought back to last night. I thought back to the wish. I thought about the two whispering voices in my bedroom. Could it be... could it be the animals?

From behind me, another whispering voice.

"DIE... DIE you piece of shit! Die so I can eat you!"

It was another dog, looking intently into the face of a homeless man. The homeless man had the dog on a rope leash. He was passed out, leaning against a building. His dog was standing just inches away from his face, all teeth.

I pushed through the work day. That night I got home. My cats were both sitting on the couch, looking at me.

Now, a couple of notes on how this all works. Animals still meow and bark, and those meows and barks do not translate to human words. Instead, when they talk, they just open their mouths, and this whisper just... breathes out of them.

My cats were staring at me, their eyes were very cold.

"Soon..." I heard one of them say.

"I hate him..." replied the other.

"He will taste good..."

At that I locked myself in my room. Now, I know what you're thinking, why wouldn't I go out there and talk to them, right? Try and get to the bottom of their apparent dislike. Well, there was really no need for all that. When my wish was granted, I was certainly able to communicate with them. Their thoughts began to radiate off of them like waves of evil energy.

I listened to them as well. Part of me was afraid to let them know that I could hear them. If I did, they might make a move on me even faster, just to reduce the risk. What I have learned over the last couple of weeks is quite simple.

They all hate us. They see us as the selfish, destructive intruders of their domain. I also know that they have studied us every bit as hard as we have studied them over the years. Certain animals can even tell when people are going to die. Almost like watching our auras dim as we get closer to death. They have allowed us to build and develop our cities over the centuries, because they also know when our species, the human race, will wipe itself out. When that happens, they will claim our cities, our buildings and our homes as their own. Every day that we live a little longer, it is only because they have permitted us to, because they know that we aren't going to be around much longer, and in the meantime, we are leaving a nice place for them to nest for the rest of time.

I know too much now. I know that they all hate us. Every animal I have overheard. Every dog on a leash is reciting how it wants to devour its owner. Every house cat contemplates the death of its caretaker. When they crawl into bed with us at night, it isn't to show us love, it is to contemplate our deaths.

They outnumber us by millions. They can survive disease, even nuclear fallout. They are ruthless. Mercy is not taught in their upbringings.

They hate us all... and they want us to die.



Written by K. Banning Kellum
Content is available under CC BY-NC
Published June 30th, 2014