In the depths of darkness, my consciousness slowly returned. I didn't open my eyes—what would be the point? I was still afraid of what I might see, afraid of the confirmation that I was still alone. Instead, I took a deep breath, inhaling the damp, earthy scent of the forest.

  I frowned. That… didn’t make sense.

  Cautiously, I blinked away the lingering haze from my vision. The dim morning light filtered through the trees, revealing my body still nestled inside the hollow of the same ancient tree. "How is that possible…?" I whispered, my voice barely a breath in the quiet air.

  Instinctively, my hand flew to my stomach, searching for the wound—the deep, agonizing stab that should have been there. All I found was smooth, unbroken skin beneath the tattered hole in my shirt. No crusted blood, no scar, no lingering pain. Nothing.

  I swallowed hard, shaking my head in disbelief. So, this was the afterlife? Not a void, not a paradise, but a place where fatal wounds simply vanished? It wasn’t what I had expected at all.

  With a deep sigh, I leaned back against the rough bark and turned the crude knife from the green creature over in my hands. The memory of the fight, the searing pain, was still vivid. If I were attacked again, what would I even do? I had no answer.

  The forest around me swayed gently in the morning breeze as colourful leaves twirled through the air. Birds sang their delicate, complex songs from unseen branches, and butterflies with wings like jewels danced lazily above patches of wildflowers. It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

  Suddenly, sleek black shape darted through the undergrowth, leaping playfully at a fluttering butterfly. A cat. A black cat. With white paws.

  The world seemed to stop on its axis. My heart hammered once, then seized in my chest, a knot of impossible hope and terrifying fear.

  “…PIP?!”

  Adrenaline hit me like a physical blow. I scrambled to my feet so fast that I smacked my head hard against the tree's gnarled entrance, sending me sprawling backward onto the ground. "Shit…" I groaned, clutching my forehead. But the pain didn’t matter. I forced myself up, my eyes locked on the feline form a few paces away. She was watching me, her ears twitching, her tail flicking warily.

  I crouched down, forcing my voice to be soft, gentle. “Pip… it’s me… Grim…”

  She didn't move closer. Instead, she began to circle me, her movements cautious and fluid, studying me with intelligent green eyes that seemed to see right through this strange, small body.

  I hesitated, my heart sinking. “Do you only look like Pip…? Or—” My gaze flicked to the knife still clutched in my grip. “—are you afraid of the knife?” Without a second thought, I tossed it aside, the blade sinking into the soft earth with a dull thud.

  She still didn’t approach. The hope that had just begun to flicker died, leaving a familiar, hollow ache in its place. I sat down heavily on the forest floor, lost in a fresh wave of despair. If I looked different in this world, maybe she did too. Or maybe… maybe this wasn’t Pip at all, just a cruel trick of this strange new world. The cat remained a short distance away, her gaze unyielding, a perfect imitation of my best friend who couldn't recognize me.

  My thoughts drifted back, unbidden, to a memory from when we were just kids. We were on an "adventure" in the woods, hunting an evil skeleton warrior that was supposed to give us infinite EXP. In the middle of our grand quest, I had tripped over a root, scraping my knees badly. When we got home, my mom had given me an earful. “Skeleton warriors don’t exist,” she had scolded. “And this is what happens when you get silly ideas from PC games.”

  I smiled bitterly at the memory. For our next adventure, I had been scared. So, to keep my nerves in check, I’d started humming a simple, quiet tune. Not for anyone else—just for me. A secret melody to ward off the fear.

  Without thinking, my eyes fluttered closed. I began to hum that same forgotten tune, the vibration in my chest a small comfort against the silence of this strange new world. My body swayed gently to the rhythm, my mind wandering through the echoes of a life that felt a million years away.

  Then, a new sensation anchored me. A soft, warm weight pressed against my chest.

  My eyes snapped open. The cat was standing on me, her front paws resting gently against my chest, her head tilted. My breath hitched. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down my cheek. My voice trembled as I whispered, “Pip… is that really you…?”

  She didn’t answer, of course. She just pressed her forehead against mine and began to purr.

  That sound—a deep, rhythmic vibration that resonated not just in my ears, but in my very soul. The constant, unwavering anchor that had followed me my entire life.

  “Pip…” I breathed, barely daring to move, afraid the moment would shatter.

  Carefully, I started to wrap my arms around her, to pull her into a hug I’d been dreaming of. But she tensed immediately. With a startled yowl, she wriggled free and raked her claws across my hand before leaping away. I hissed through my teeth as four sharp, red lines bloomed across my skin, small beads of blood welling up.

  “Hey… It’s okay,” I said gently, cradling my wounded hand. “I won’t hurt you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  Pip hesitated, watching me for a long moment with those wise, knowing eyes. Then, slowly, cautiously, she padded forward and stepped onto my lap, studying my face with an intense curiosity. She locked eyes with me—deep green pools that held something more than just animal instinct—and then she closed them.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  And purred.

  A profound warmth spread through my chest, originating from her vibrating form, a familiar and comforting sensation I couldn’t quite place. Something stirred in me, a faint, hazy memory from the edge of consciousness. The moment before I had blacked out in the hollow tree. I had been bleeding, dying, my life fading into cold numbness. And in those final moments, I had heard Pip’s purr.

  My gaze flickered down to the fresh scratches on my hand. I watched, mesmerized, my breath caught in my throat. The skin seemed to flow back together, the red lines fading and knitting into seamless, uninjured flesh right before my eyes. In seconds, it was as if the scratches had never been there.

  Shocked, my fingers drifted to my stomach, to the tattered hole in my shirt where the stab wound should have been. The same warmth. The same feeling of being made whole. I had heard Pip’s purr back then, too, just before the darkness took me. And now I was alive. Healed.

  Awe stole my voice. "Pip… are you an angel?" She just tilted her head to the side and meowed. I couldn't help but let out a choked, joyous laugh. "Of course you're an angel… my little angel," I said softly, gently stroking her soft fur. She curled up in my lap, purring contentedly. We sat like that for what felt like an eternity, every second with her mending the shattered pieces of my broken heart.

  "I've missed you so much..." I began, but a sudden, loud rustling from a nearby bush cut me off. Pip leaped to her feet, her fur standing on end as she let out a threatening hiss. A grotesque green creature stepped out—one like I had killed before, but this one held a crude, heavy club and looked even more repulsive, if that was even possible.

  My body tensed as I slowly rose, moving towards the spot where I discarded the knife. The creature barely acknowledged me, its foul, yellow eyes fixed on Pip. It sneered, a string of drool dangling from its lip, and licked its chops, gazing at her hungrily. My vision narrowed. A possessive fury, cold and absolute, washed over me. It dared to look at her like that?

  The ugly beast howled in rage and charged toward Pip, its club raised high. There was no time to grab my knife. My mind went blank as I launched myself at the creature, my body moving on pure instinct, delivering a powerful dropkick to its chest. It crashed hard into a tree with a sickening crunch, and I tumbled to the ground. I quickly regained my footing to see Pip staring at me, her tail puffed up in alarm. The creature was still dazed, shaking its head. I ran at it again and kicked it hard in the stomach, causing it to vomit a foul mix of bile and half-digested bone fragments. The thought of Pip ending up like that, in the belly of this monster, made my anger boil over into something uncontrollable.

  Blinded by fury, I snatched up its fallen club. A red haze clouded my vision as pure, uncontrollable rage surged through me. Thought ceased. There was only the need to destroy the threat, to vent all my fear and protective rage onto the vile thing that had dared to threaten a life far more precious to me than my own. With a choked cry, I brought the heavy weapon down on the stunned creature. Again. And again. And again.

  Thud. Crack. Thud.

  The sickening crunch of bone faded, drowned out by the roar of blood rushing in my ears. The assault didn't end because the creature was dead. It stopped because my arms were burning so badly I couldn't lift the weapon anymore.

  The crude club slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering onto the forest floor. I stumbled back, my chest heaving as I gulped in ragged breaths of air. My hands were sticky and red. Staring down at the battered form, the fury abruptly drained away, leaving a cold, hollow emptiness and a rising nausea in its wake.

  My gaze flickered to Pip, who was watching me from a safe distance with wide, slightly alarmed green eyes.

  "Shit..." I cursed, the word a ragged whisper. Bile rose in my throat. I'd completely lost control. That rage… it wasn't good. It wasn't me. Or was it, now? The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine. This new body, this new world… was it changing me into something as monstrous as the creatures that inhabited it?

  I felt trapped by the gruesome sight, but a soft nudge against my leg broke the spell. Pip was there, looking up at me. "What's wrong?" I asked, though I knew she couldn't understand. She just walked a few meters away and meowed again. "Should I follow you?" I murmured. She meowed in response, a clear, insistent sound.

  Taking a deep breath, I made a decision. I’d take the knife and the club. Better to be armed and not need them than to need them and be unprepared. I picked up the bloody weapons and approached Pip, who waited patiently. She meowed once more and continued on her way, leading me from the scene of the carnage.

  As I followed her, my mind was a chaotic storm. The weight of the club in my hand felt unnatural, tainted. The sight of my own blood-soaked hands made my stomach churn. I had just brutally killed something. Not in a clean, desperate chokehold like the first time, but with a savage, frenzied rage that had completely consumed me. The memory of the crunching bones, the feeling of the club connecting… it made me want to be sick. Was this what it took to survive here? To become a butcher?

  But then my eyes landed on Pip, trotting confidently ahead, her black fur a stark contrast to the vibrant green of the forest floor. The sight of her, so normal and unharmed, cut through the red haze of my rage and the rising nausea. Suddenly, the horror of the fight, the blood on my hands, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that simple fact: She was alive. She was here. The overwhelming relief of that simple fact washed over me, a clean tide pushing back the filth of the battle. An angel. My angel. The thought was no longer just a question; it felt like a certainty. She had healed a fatal wound, and her very presence had brought me back to her. The joy of it was so immense it almost made the preceding horror fade into the background. Almost.

  We walked for what felt like an hour through the serene, sun-dappled forest. The path was uneventful—at least, no more angry green creatures attacked us. The silence allowed my thoughts to drift back to the central, nagging question. Is this really heaven if I’m still fighting for my "survival" in death? It didn’t make sense. Heaven was supposed to be a final reward, a place of peace. This felt more like a trial. Well, if this is heaven, I have all eternity to figure it out.

  Pip led us up a gentle hill beside a babbling stream. When we reached the top, I was stunned into silence. In front of us lay a natural hot spring, its steam misting the cool air as its crystal-clear water fed the stream below. It was a hidden paradise.

  "Do I smell that bad to you?" I asked Pip in jest, gesturing to my blood-spattered clothes. She meowed, as if in agreement. "You’re right," I chuckled. "With all this blood on me, I probably should clean up." Pip meowed again and rolled playfully on a patch of moss at the edge of the spring. Laughing, I dipped my hand into the water. It was the perfect temperature—hot, but not scalding.

  I stripped off my filthy clothes and set them, along with the club and knife, on the bank. Dipping a foot in, I realized the pool was shallow enough to stand—just about a meter deep. The moment I was fully in, the clear water around me turned a shocking crimson red. Thank god the current from the spring's source carried the bloody water away, flowing over a small waterfall and down into the stream. I cleaned off the weapons and my clothes, rinsing them until the water ran clear, then hung them to dry on a low-hanging branch.

  While my clothes dried, the warm, mineral-rich water enveloped me in a blissful heat that chased the last of the chill from my bones and soothed my aching muscles. Leaning my head back against a smooth, sun-warmed rock, I watched Pip explore the clearing. "Hey, Pip," I said softly. She paused her inspection of a strange, purple flower and glanced at me with curious eyes. "Tell me about your adventures in Kitty Heaven."