Peter walked across the field with an unsteady gait, pondering why fate had decided to unleash a whole waterfall of problems on him. Fortunately, the health of his loved ones remained in order, but this brought little consolation.
All the difficulties concerned one thing—money. When Peter learned of an inheritance in the form of an impressive house, he was overjoyed. However, the joy quickly turned to anxiety: the house, though it seemed sturdy on the outside, turned out to be a real ruin inside. Everywhere he looked, the same picture emerged: rot and decay.
Initially, the man enthusiastically took on the repairs. He replaced the rotten beams and re-roofed the house. The result looked impressive! But over time, he began to notice new flaws. Tiles were falling off, and baseboards were lifting along with the linoleum. The yard was no better: old structures were collapsing, and the fence leaned so much that it was about to fall onto the neighboring plot.
When Peter started removing the old linoleum, he discovered that the wooden floors had also completely rotted. And buying building materials nowadays costs a lot of money. A salary of 18,000 rubles barely covered current expenses, not to mention large-scale repairs.
The overgrown garden also demanded attention. He needed to buy a mower and additional equipment. Where to find the funds? Peter’s thoughts were grim, but he had no intention of selling the house. Enough wandering through dormitories and rental apartments. If he sold the house now, the proceeds would clearly not be enough even for decent housing in the city, let alone in the suburbs, where only similar ruins could be found.
In this area, real estate prices were not high. Most neighbors led modest lives. The only exception was a luxurious mansion among the single-story houses. Rumor had it that its owner, a former authority figure, adorned his property with many architectural features: turrets, fountains, garden sculptures. A team of hired workers maintained the grounds. However, a high stone fence hid all these beauties from prying eyes.
Some acquaintances advised taking a loan to quickly put the house in order. But Peter firmly decided not to deal with banks. He invested all his savings in the repairs, dreaming of creating a cozy family nest. After all, when he lived in the city, girls immediately lost interest upon learning that he had no home of his own.
Today, however, Peter, slightly intoxicated, slowly walked through the field. Normally, he didn’t abuse alcohol, but in the morning, having discovered dampness in the cellar and rotted shelves for canning, he got so upset that he took to the moonshine. He had just finished changing the floors, and here were unforeseen expenses again. The endless cycle of repairs had knocked him off track, and he allowed himself to relax, although the moonshine was stronger than expected.
His legs treacherously gave way, and Peter barely made it to his shed. He had no desire to return to the house at all.
The shed was recently built—the old one had collapsed, and the man constructed a new, sturdy structure. But inside, something unexpected awaited him. From the dark corner, a strange creature looked at him. It was small but had huge ears and was covered in gray skin. The image was completed by a long tail, resembling that of a rat.
As Peter approached, the creature raised its triangular snout and began to snarl aggressively. A hoarse growl, turning into a hiss, came from its throat. With its mouth open, small but sharp teeth were visible.
The man remembered an article from the internet about the chupacabra—a mythical creature that supposedly drinks the blood of animals. Although Peter had never believed in such stories, he now wondered: what if it was indeed a chupacabra? How else to explain that such a monster had settled in his shed?
Meanwhile, the creature jumped down from the shelf. Its movements were so smooth and graceful that it seemed as if it was flowing through the air. «It doesn’t look like a usual mutant,» thought Peter. «This is something more demonic. Only supernatural beings move like this.»
In his already alcohol-fogged mind, episodes of horror movies began to surface. He screamed hysterically and ran out into the yard. Initially, he wanted to run to the neighbors, but he changed his mind and locked the terrifying creature inside. «What if this beast—be it a demon or a monster—could cause harm?» flashed through his mind.
Peter stood nearby for some time, listening to what was happening behind the door. Inside, it was absolutely quiet. However, he didn’t want to check if everything was alright at all.
He rushed to Makar, with whom he had previously been drinking moonshine. Bursting in without knocking, he yelled: «What the hell did you add to your vodka?!»
Makar, displeased with the intrusion, importantly declared that his drink was made exclusively from pure grain. Then he asked: «What happened? Why are you so flustered and nervous?»
«How can I not be nervous when the devil himself appeared! You enter the shed, and there sits a vile creature the size of a cat. Gray skin, wrinkled. It was perched on a shelf: a tail like a rat’s, huge, transparent ears like a bat’s, and such a scary snout… Now I’m afraid to even approach the house!»
Makar thoughtfully scratched the back of his head and authoritatively said: «If it’s a chupacabra, you can just pin it down with a pitchfork. But if it’s a demon, a cross, incense, and prayer will help.»
He took an old prayer book from the cupboard and crossed himself three times. The men decided to gather their courage and head back. Fortified for bravery, they set off on their way. Peter, armed with a pitchfork, fumbled with the latch—it either jammed or his hands were not listening. When the door finally gave way, Makar entered first, solemnly holding the ancient prayer book in front of him.
«Begone, Satan!» he loudly proclaimed.
Behind an old blanket, a triangular face covered in cobwebs appeared. The creature widely opened its pink mouth, meowed plaintively, and again hid behind the blanket.
Peter took a step back, holding the pitchfork in front of him. Makar, on the other hand, boldly stepped forward and pulled the cornered animal out with his bare hands.
«You, Petka, are an idiot! This is a sphinx—a pedigreed and very expensive cat! Moreover, apparently pregnant. Such creatures are also called ‘rubber.’ My daughter has long been asking to buy one, but the prices are biting. Be glad that such a treasure came to you for free. Then you’ll sell the kittens and become rich. Just remember: one kitten is due to me.»
Peter, albeit with some disgust, took the strange treasure from Makar’s hands. The warm body of the cat seemed not so repulsive to him after all. To preserve the valuable acquisition, he placed the pregnant cat in a new rabbit cage, which he had bought for other purposes. Now it would become a home not for rabbits, but for an expensive cat and her future offspring.
Arriving in the city after a workday, Peter decided to find Wi-Fi to research information about the sphinx breed. On his way home, he stopped at a store and bought special food, vitamins for pregnant cats, and a small warm sweater so the hairless creature wouldn’t freeze.
Walking past the village store, Peter noticed an advertisement with a photograph. A folded cat’s face, remarkably resembling the one now in his rabbit cage, looked at him. Approaching closer, he carefully read the text of the advertisement. It turned out, the owner of the sphinx lived in the only luxurious mansion in the village.
Peter realized that he would have to return the cat to avoid problems with the local authority. Even if he was now a businessman, everyone knew: there are no former gangsters. The prospect of ending his life at the bottom of a river, encased in cement, did not appeal to him at all.
Without going home, the man headed to the mansion. Approaching the massive gates, he pressed the call button and explained the purpose of his visit. The gates silently parted, inviting him in.
The first thing he saw were stocky Asian workers, scurrying around the yard with gardening equipment. People weren’t lying—indeed, an entire team serviced this mansion. The owner himself came out to meet the guest. An average middle-aged man in khaki shorts and a simple plaid shirt. It seemed he had just been working in the garden with his workers: sweaty traces on his face, hands dirty with soil.
Peter repeated his story. The owner of the house introduced himself as Albert Nikolaevich. He called one of the guards to drive them to the other side of the village for the cat. Sitting in the back seat of the car, he began to inquire about the details of the find. Naive Petka honestly told everything as it was. The story of how he mistook the cat for a demon amused Albert Nikolaevich to tears. He laughed so loudly that he even wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.
Returning home, Peter handed over his «find» to the owner. He was surprised to observe how tenderly he treated the animal. After some time, gathering courage, Peter offered Albert Nikolaevich the items he had bought for the cat.
«You’re a good man, Petya,» he replied. «You live in a half-destroyed hovel, but you spared no expense on expensive vitamins and clothes for someone else’s pregnant cat. I’ll repay you with kindness. I’ll give you building materials and provide workers so that your house becomes a true palace. I have spare materials—one foreman managed to overestimate twice as much as needed, but… he won’t be coming back. Let these materials go to good hands. You deserve it.»
The next morning, trucks arrived at Peter’s house and began unloading building materials. Diligent Asian workers appeared in the yard. Within a month, they completely transformed the house: everything was changed, repaired, and cleaned up. A new fence was installed around the plot. The result exceeded all expectations.
Now Peter doesn’t live alone. After the renovations, a young girl named Amina moved into his house. The owner of the mansion did not object to his worker creating a family with the man who returned his beloved cat. Makar also did not go without a gift: his daughter received the long-awaited sphinx kitten—small, clumsy, and charming.
