The Detective, the Cat and the Puddle

  

  The night was as dark as the ink on a private eye's notepad, and the rain fell relentlessly in the sprawling megalopolis. So dark and so rainy that even the empty streets seemed to shiver in discomfort, puddles reflecting the flickering streetlights like distorted mirrors. Nobody dared to venture into the unwelcoming darkness, except for one man-a lone sentinel of justice.

  Private Detective Ray Tangler.

  For weeks, Ray had been hot on the trail of the most notorious gang in the city-the "Color Unmatchers." Their vile crimes were the bane of every interior designer and fashionista in town, for they reveled in destroying harmonious color palettes with their outrageous mismatched hues. The gang members were easily recognizable by their garish, clashing attire-a fashion nightmare come to life.

  Ray had painstakingly gathered all the necessary evidence, documenting each audacious act of chromatic chaos. Now, the moment of truth had arrived. He was ready to confront the gang's elusive boss and put an end to their reign of visual terror.

  In a shadowy alleyway, Ray's silhouette merged with the gloom as he approached the gang's hideout. His trusty fedora shielded his eyes from the downpour, and his trench coat flapped dramatically in the wind. This was it-the climax of his relentless pursuit.

  He stepped into the dimly lit warehouse, where the gang's boss awaited. She was a vision of color clashing madness, dressed in a neon green boa, a polka-dotted pink dress, and orange knee-high socks. Her mismatched ensemble was a defiant declaration of her criminal identity.

  "Your days of color crimes are over!" Ray declared, his voice echoing through the cavernous space.

  The boss sneered, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  "You think you can stop us, detective? Think again!"

  With a flourish, she reached into her absurdly oversized handbag and pulled out her weapon of choice-a paintball gun loaded with jarring colors. She aimed it at Ray, her finger hovering over the trigger...

  Ray's eyes widened.

  "No!" he exclaimed dramatically, "Not red and purple!!!"

  Just as the chaotic colors were about to splatter across his vision, reality snapped back into focus. The vivid daydream faded away, leaving Ray blinking at the unremarkable reality of his improvised office.

  He glanced around, momentarily disoriented, his heart still racing from the imagined confrontation. The drab, mismatched furniture and the quiet hum of the ceiling fan were a stark contrast to the excitement of his fantasy. Slowly, he settled back into the mundane world, shaking his head with a wry smile.

  Now, let us introduce our protagonist properly:

  Ray Tangler, a spirited young man, shy but brimming with ambition, had finally stepped into the enigmatic world of private investigation. With his freshly minted detective license, a magnifying glass that made him feel like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, a block-note ready to capture every clue, and the pièce de résistance-a fedora that screamed "I'm a detective"-Ray was eager to unravel the mysteries of Dullsville.

  Dullsville was a small, low-rise town with just a few winding streets. Originally named Bullsville, the town had once been a symbol of strength and prosperity. However, as the years passed and the town fell into disrepair, a part of the town's sign broke off, leaving only "Dullsville" in its place. It was a fitting name for a place where excitement went to die. The cracked roads seemed to mirror the weary souls of its residents, and the tattered buildings stood as silent witnesses to better days long past. A perpetual grayness hung over the town, as if the sun itself had given up on trying to brighten it up.

  Ray's apartment was located in one of these low-rise buildings, tucked away on the first floor at the end of a long, dimly lit corridor. The corridor itself had an uncanny resemblance to a scene from a Hitchcock movie-long shadows, flickering lights, and the occasional scurrying rat. It was the perfect setting for a detective's office, or so Ray told himself.

  His office, if one could call it that, was a cozy nook in his small apartment. The desk, piled high with gadgets and half-baked ideas, the ancient rotary phone that seemed to mock him with its silence, and the scattered papers that held dreams of unsolved cases-all were in place, waiting for the flood of clients he was certain would come knocking any moment. But as the hours dragged on, the phone remained silent, and the door stayed resolutely shut. The only excitement came from the persistent drip of a leaky faucet and the occasional creak of the old building.

  The waiting was so unbearable that Ray couldn't withstand it any longer. He flung the door open, peering down the long, dark, and grimy corridor. It was as empty as the pages of his detective notebook. The only sign of life was a black cat, lounging nonchalantly near his door, its emerald-green eyes glinting with a hint of mischief.

  "Hm-m... Nobody? What a shock," Ray muttered with a wry smile as he closed the door and slumped back into his old but surprisingly comfortable armchair.

  "All right, I can wait."

  Determined to escape back into the comfort of his heroic daydream, Ray closed his eyes and conjured the scene once more.

  Again, he was standing in the dimly lit warehouse, facing the boss of the "Color Unmatchers" gang. She aimed her paintball gun loaded with jarring colors at him, her finger hovering over the trigger...

  Ray's eyes widened.

  And at the very moment he was going to exclaim dramatically, "Not red and purple!", something strange happened which-Ray was sure of it-wasn't part of his vivid imagination:

  A familiar black cat sauntered into his daydream. The cat's emerald-green eyes glinted mischievously as it casually walked across the warehouse floor, disrupting the confrontation.

  "What the-?" Ray stammered, attempting to shoo the cat away. However, the feline merely sat down in front of him, licking its paw indifferently as if nothing unusual was happening.

  Suddenly, the vivid colors and chaotic scene of his daydream dissolved, snapping Ray back to the reality of his dimly lit office.

  An unsettling feeling tugged at the edges of Ray's mind despite his best efforts to ignore it. He couldn't shake off the thought of the stray cat, which he'd seen countless times before in the dark alleys of Dullsville. Was it just a regular feline, or was there something more to it? A shape-shifter, perhaps? Or a harbinger of untold secrets?

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Ray's inner voice wrestled with his logic, and curiosity won the match. He opened the door again, and there it was-the cat, still perched near his door, staring at him with an intensity that was almost unsettling.

  The cat continued to gaze at Ray, unblinking. Ray tried to mirror the cat's stare but blinked first, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. As he struggled to comprehend the situation, the cat opened its mouth and spoke:

  "Can I enter your office, sir? This corridor is so dirty and unwelcoming."

  Ray's mind went blank. "A talking cat? Here?" He shook his head and pinched himself, grimacing at the sharp pain. To be absolutely certain, he closed his eyes tightly, counted to ten, and reopened them.

  The cat was still there, and it was still talking.

  "Are you feeling well, sir?" it inquired, its emerald eyes never leaving Ray's face.

  "Am-m-m"-Ray stammered, deciding it was better to believe in talking cats than to be impolite-"I'm fine, thank you." And then, with a nod towards his office: "Yes, of course, please enter."

  The cat, now comfortably ensconced in Ray's armchair, gave the room a critical once-over. Its emerald-green eyes took in the mismatched furniture, the scattered detective paraphernalia, and the faded wallpaper that hinted at better days. With a delicate flick of its tail, the cat began to wash its face with a practiced paw.

  "My organization would like to hire you," it eventually said, locking eyes with Ray.

  "Your organization?" Ray echoed, his voice quavering slightly. His mind conjured up an image of a grand, shadowy building teeming with hundreds of stray black cats. "And... what organization would it be?" he asked, choosing his words with care.

  "NOIR."

  "NOIR?"

  "Nocturnal Operations and Intelligence Registry," the cat stated matter-of-factly before resuming its grooming.

  "Em-m... I am very honored to be chosen by... NOIR," Ray stammered, his tone betraying his utter bewilderment. "But... why me? And... who are you?"

  "Ah, forgive my lack of manners, sir," the cat replied with a hint of amusement. "I am JANA-Junior Anomalous Node Agent. And you may call me... Jana." Ray could have sworn he saw the corners of the cat's mouth curl upwards into a smile. Or was it just a trick of the light?

  "As for your first question... NOIR needs someone of your unique talents to assist us with an investigation. It's a temporary position, and naturally, you will be handsomely rewarded."

  Jana's piercing gaze seemed to bore into Ray, awaiting his response. Ray felt a whirlwind of emotions. He had envisioned his first case to be something far more mundane and less risky-perhaps a widow searching for her lost dog or a local mystery involving misplaced spectacles. But a talking cat? The Nocturnal Operations and Intelligence Registry? An Anomalous Node? It all sounded like a perilous venture of top-secret proportions.

  Ray glanced around his quaint office, which now felt like a sanctuary of comfort and safety. He opened his mouth to decline the offer, but to his own astonishment, he blurted out, "Agreed!" as if his mouth had a mind of its own.

  "Splendid," Jana said with what could only be described as a cat-like grin. "Here is your contract!"

  As if conjured from thin air, a sheet of paper materialized before Ray. The document, written in bold, elegant script, read: "I, Ray Tangler, private detective, agree to assist NOIR on a temporary basis." In the field labeled "Reward," the words "Great Reward" were inscribed.

  As Ray struggled to comprehend the whirlwind of events, Jana prompted, "Please, touch this contract with your finger."

  "I'll probably regret this," Ray murmured under his breath as he placed his finger on the contract.

  The moment his finger touched the paper, the contract disappeared in a puff of shimmering smoke.

  "Congratulations, Sir! You are now a TAN - Temporal Agent of NOIR!" Jana declared triumphantly.

  Ray sat in stunned silence, still processing the fact that he had just signed a contract with a talking cat. Before he could gather his thoughts, Jana sprang into action.

  The cat deftly jumped onto Ray's desk, taking the phone receiver in its paws. Jana held the receiver between its head and shoulder, then expertly used its claw to turn the rotary dial several times.

  Moments later, a voice crackled through the phone receiver, speaking in a language or code that Ray couldn't comprehend. Jana nodded knowingly.

  "Yes, I have him now," it said into the receiver. "Prepare for arrival."

  The voice on the other end of the line confirmed, and Jana placed the receiver back onto the phone with a decisive click.

  "We have to go now," the cat declared. "Please gather all the necessary items!"

  Ray, still in a daze, frantically started to gather everything he considered essential for a private detective. He grabbed his magnifying glass, his block-note, and various other odd items-a flashlight, a map, a jar of strawberry jam-stuffing them all into an old, tattered sack-voyage.

  "Where are we going?" he asked, fighting with the suitcase's locks, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

  Jana looked deeply into his eyes, its emerald gaze seeming to pierce his very soul. With a dramatic flair, the cat said:

  "We are going behind the Noir Veil!"

  Finally, everything was ready. Ray took a deep breath, donned his pristine fedora, and followed Jana out of his apartment.

  The evening street was as dull and unwelcoming as ever, with dim streetlights casting long, eerie shadows.

  Jana set off at a brisk pace, heading straight for the Dola-Rama store, two blocks away. Ray struggled to keep up as Jana's little legs quickly covered the distance. It was quite a sight-Ray, a freshly minted detective, chasing after a determined cat through the dreary streets of Dullsville.

  When they reached the Dola-Rama, Ray expected they would go inside, but Jana stopped right in front of the entrance. Only then did Ray notice a colorful character sitting on a rag, strumming an old, tattered guitar and murmuring a tune.

  It was a Hippie, a well-known figure in Dullsville. Nobody knew his real name, so everyone just called him Hippie or Hip. Some locals even believed he was the town's only attraction, despite the fact that the last tourist left the town decades ago, vowing never to return.

  Jana approached the Hippie and greeted him in a laid-back manner.

  "Peace and love, brother!"

  The Hippie looked up and, as if talking with the cat was perfectly normal to him, responded,

  "Hey, cool cat!"

  "I need access to Noir Veil," Jana said, getting straight to the point.

  The Hippie gave them a serene smile.

  "Right on, brother! Let me tune into the vibes."

  He closed his eyes, his fingers picking random notes on his out-of-tune guitar, his lips moving rhythmically as if repeating a mantra. Minutes passed by as Jana and Ray watched this ritual in silent awe. Suddenly, the hippie strummed a loud, dissonant chord and opened his eyes.

  "Done!" he declared. "The puddle number three."

  Jana nodded.

  "You're groovy, man. Thanks!" The cat raised a paw for a high-five-or was it a high-four?

  "Peace out, mate!" the Hippie responded, slapping the cat's paw.

  Jana turned to the street, covered with puddles reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

  "Follow me!"

  And before Ray could fully grasp the command, Jana was already a few steps ahead.

  Ray glanced once more at the Hippie, who had already retreated into his world of sounds and rhymes, then hurried after Jana.

  "The Hippie... Is he a-a-a..." Ray tried to catch his breath.

  "NOIR Agent?" Jana responded, focusing on the big puddle ahead.

  "No, a volunteer."

  They passed the large puddle and moved on.

  "Where are we going, Jana?" Ray asked, struggling to keep up.

  "You heard him... Puddle number three," the cat replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  They left the next puddle behind. A few more steps and, Screech!, with a sudden halt, Jana stopped at the following puddle.

  "That's it! Puddle number three!" Jana declared with satisfaction, its tail flicking with excitement. The cat's eyes gleamed with a sense of accomplishment, as if it had just solved the final piece of a grand puzzle.

  Ray looked around, bewildered.

  "So... what do we do now?"

  "Now we jump!"

  And, before Ray could say anything, the enigmatic cat darted around him and gave him a powerful push forward.

  Ray stumbled, teetering on the edge of the puddle, then took an unintentional step onto the shimmering surface. But instead of the solid asphalt under the thin layer of water, his leg met... nothing. Literally nothing!!! Ray's eyes widened in surprise, and he flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to regain his balance.

  His efforts were in vain as gravity took over. Ray started to fall into what moments ago was just a puddle, his body slowly descending as if he were being swallowed by liquid quicksand. Centimeter by centimeter, the puddle, now transformed from an innocent water hazard into an abyssal portal, engulfed him.

  Eventually, only his head remained above the surface. Ray's heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst. The last thing he saw before the void consumed him completely was Jana, leaping into the center of the puddle as if it was its own private pool.

  The Hippie, who had been lost in his musical reverie, opened his eyes just in time to witness the spectacle. He watched, slack-jawed, as both Ray and Jana vanished into the dark waters of puddle number three.

  With a slow nod of approval, he declared:

  "Far out!"