By Rachel H Grant
Her name was Black Beauty, christened after her owner’s favourite childhood book. A black cat with a few rebel white hairs on her chest, she could purr as if auditioning for a talent show, a melodic whisper of other worlds. In her eyes, little moons shone, black cat magic in her veins.
It was Halloween. Black Beauty gave birth to five black kittens while children roamed the streets dressed as ghosts. However the real magic was here, in Black Beauty’s safe space cupboard. Her poor owner had no idea she was pregnant, believing her to be eating too much and under the false impression that the stray she had adopted was neutered.
The surprise could wait for morning. For now, Black Beauty enjoyed her private time with her little balls of molten magic.
Far away, in the Scottish Highlands, a wildcat also gave birth. Five perfect kittens, little black wildcats with black coats and even darker black stripes. History had been ignited, a new flame that could not be extinguished. The black wildcats would learn magical abilities, the power to protect, the spirit of a superhero.
Black Beauty’s kittens were all rehomed, and became guardians to the child of their new family, a young person to protect and guide.
The black highland kittens would likewise become protectors. They would find a farm with children, visiting each night, silently prowling and guarding the young souls sleeping behind the quiet windows.
Halloween was in their hearts, a time of year when they would release their true superpowers. The black cats would patrol school backgrounds, spreading their feline spell. All school bullying would stop for the day, even for the entire month after their visit. The school children loved the cats, who in turn became a Halloween urban legend, Halloween black cats who would appear once a year like magic.
Meanwhile, the black Highland wildcats would spread their own Highland magic every Halloween, moving along roads and onto farms, allowing themselves to be seen and admired from afar. A highland myth of magical black Highland cats was born.
Each Halloween eve, a magic portal would open to a midnight forest glade, glistening in soft moonlight, pine needles creating a carpet of fresh fragrance, a safe space in a distant dimension. The black cats would meet there, in a land beyond time, and share their stories. The light of a full moon would stroke their fur, as their eyes shone with fierce fire. This was their time, and their place. Halloween, their birthday, a night as magical as they were. Halloween, a night to run free, a festival of feline lore.