The Cat & The Envelope

Rigid with fear, sitting up in bed, I stared helplessly as a face rose up in the moonlit window. But it was just a branch. Right? Nervous, I walk over to the window and peek out inspecting. There lay a helpless fluffy blue-eyed white-haired Himalayan cat. It lay sprawled out on the porch. I walk downstairs, the stairs creaking and moaning, ready to go and help it. When I get to the front door my hand stops. I don’t know why but I had a sudden urge to stop dead in my tracks. But, then I heard it, the screech of the helpless cat. It kept screeching loquaciously. And I kept going. Scared, I reached for the handle and touched the cold copper. I oped the door to find, the cat wasn’t there. Instead, there lay an envelope sealed with a blood-red waxed stamp. I pick up the envelope and start to open it but then I stop. The seal didn’t just look blood red, it was real blood. I dropped the envelope. Why would someone do that it is so abnormal? I picked it back up again, but then stopped. There again was the sudden urge to stop frozen, paralyzed in fear. For what reason, I do not know.