《黑貓》（The Black Cat）是美國哥德文學大師 Edgar Allan Poe 最著名的心理恐怖小說之一。本系列以全新方式改編，保留原作的壓抑氛圍與人性掙扎，重新演繹這段關於愛、酒精、瘋狂與罪惡的經典故事。
第一集〈溫柔的偽裝〉，講述主角自幼熱愛動物，與黑貓普魯托建立深厚感情。然而，一切都因酒精而開始改變。曾經溫柔善良的男人，逐漸被暴躁、憤怒與黑暗吞噬，而那隻始終陪伴他的黑貓，也開始察覺主人內心深處正在甦醒的惡魔……
In Episode 1: The Gentle Mask, we meet a man once known for his gentle heart and deep love for animals. His closest companion is Pluto, a magnificent black cat whose loyalty never wavers. But as alcohol slowly poisons his mind, kindness gives way to anger, and the peaceful life they once shared begins to unravel. Soon, even Pluto senses that the man he trusted is disappearing.
中文版本
自幼以來，我便以溫順良善的性格聞名，對動物更是到了近乎癡迷的地步，父母總是滿足我的願望，讓家中養滿了各式各樣的小生靈，對我而言，動物那不求回報的忠誠與純真，遠比人類虛偽的友誼更加珍貴。長大後我娶了一位同樣喜愛寵物的妻子瑪麗，我們的家宛如一座小型動物園，裡頭有歡唱的金絲雀、悠閒的金魚、忠誠的老狗，以及一隻名為普魯托的大黑貓。普魯托是我們在收容所的角落裡發現的，牠體型異常巨大，全身毛色烏黑發亮，沒有半根雜毛，一雙深邃的黃綠色眼睛彷彿能洞察人心，當時工作人員警告我們許多人嫌黑貓不吉利，瑪麗也打趣提到古老傳說中黑貓是魔女化身的說法，但我只是一笑置之，因為當我伸出手時，普魯托便主動湊上來用頭親暱地蹭著我的手指，那一刻我就知道牠將是我最心愛的伴侶。回到家後，普魯托與我建立了無與倫比的深厚情感，只有我會親自餵養牠，無論我在家裡的哪個房間，牠總是像個影子般緊緊跟隨，甚至連我出門散步，牠也會默默跟在後頭，在最初的幾年裡，我們共享了無數溫馨時光，瑪麗也常說我的溫柔與善良正是她愛上我的原因。然而，這種平靜美好的生活並未維持太久，不知從何時開始，一個名叫「酒精」的魔鬼漸漸侵蝕了我的靈魂，狂躁與酗酒的惡習讓我性情大變，原本溫和的我變得暴躁易怒、喜怒無常，對周圍的一切都充滿了厭倦與敵意。我開始對默默忍受的妻子惡言相向，甚至動輒對家中的小狗與鳥類施加暴力，唯獨對普魯托，我內心深處尚存一絲殘存的克制與愧疚，尚未對牠動過手。但這種克制卻在無形中加劇了我內心的扭曲，某個大雨滂沱的深夜，我渾身散發著濃烈的酒氣、腳步踉蹌地從破舊酒吧回到家裡，妻子滿臉憂慮與恐懼地迎上前勸阻，卻被我粗暴地推開並呵斥閉嘴，就在那一刻，原本伏在沙發上的普魯托站了起來，牠那雙曾經充滿信任的眼睛裡，第一次流露出了疑慮與戒備，牠沒有像往常那樣熱情地跳進我的懷裡，而是默默地後退了兩步，隨後一言不發地鑽進了桌底下的陰影中。看著牠躲避我的背影，酒精在我體內沸騰，一種被背叛的狂怒與陰暗的怨恨悄然蔓延，昔日那個溫柔善良的自己徹底死去了，取而代之的是一個被魔鬼掌控的軀殼，正死死盯著那片陰影，等待著深淵的降臨。
English Version
From the earliest days of my childhood, I was known as a man of uncommon kindness. Gentle by nature and deeply attached to every living creature, I found far greater comfort in the silent companionship of animals than in the unpredictable hearts of people. My parents encouraged this affection, filling our home with birds, rabbits, fish, and every small creature that needed a loving hand. Animals never lied, never betrayed, and never disguised their feelings. Their loyalty was pure, untouched by the vanity and deception that so often define human friendships.
Years later, I married a woman named Mary, whose heart reflected my own. She adored animals just as deeply as I did, and together we built a peaceful home overflowing with life. Songbirds filled the mornings with cheerful melodies. Goldfish drifted lazily through glass tanks. An aging dog slept contentedly by the fireplace. Yet among all our companions, one stood apart from the rest.
His name was Pluto.
We discovered him in the darkest corner of a small animal shelter. He was enormous for a cat, his sleek black coat absorbing every trace of light around him. Not a single white hair interrupted the perfect darkness of his fur. His strange yellow-green eyes seemed almost unsettling, as though they could peer beyond appearances and uncover the secrets hidden inside a person’s soul.
One of the shelter workers warned us with a nervous laugh.
“Most people refuse to adopt black cats. They still believe they’re cursed.”
Mary smiled and teased me.
“You know the old legends. They say black cats are witches in disguise.”
I simply laughed.
Superstition had never meant anything to me.
The moment I reached toward Pluto, he stepped forward without hesitation and gently rubbed his head against my hand. That quiet gesture spoke louder than words ever could. In that instant, I knew he had already chosen me.
From the day we brought him home, an extraordinary bond grew between us.
I alone fed him every morning. Whenever I moved through the house, Pluto followed silently behind me like a living shadow. If I sat down to read, he curled beside my chair. If I walked into the garden, he waited patiently nearby. Even when I wandered through the neighborhood in the evening, I would often glance behind me and find him walking several paces back, never calling for attention, never asking for affection, yet always there.
For years, our lives unfolded in quiet happiness.
Mary often smiled as she watched us together.
“I fell in love with your kindness,” she would whisper. “The way you care for animals says everything about who you are.”
At the time, I believed those words.
I believed kindness was permanent.
I believed goodness could never disappear.
How little I understood the darkness already waiting within me.
It arrived slowly, almost invisibly, wearing the ordinary face of alcohol.
At first, it was only an occasional drink after work. Then another. Then another. Soon, every evening ended with another bottle, and before long, I no longer remembered what life felt like without its burning embrace.
Liquor did not simply cloud my thoughts.
It hollowed them.
The gentle man everyone once admired faded day by day, replaced by someone impatient, bitter, and consumed by constant anger. Small inconveniences ignited violent outbursts. Every conversation became an argument. Every moment of silence filled me with irritation.
Mary endured my cruelty without complaint.
Instead of gratitude, I answered her concern with insults.
Instead of affection, I offered contempt.
The innocent animals who had once been the center of my world gradually became victims of my growing rage. The dog received angry kicks for barking. The birds were struck whenever their songs irritated me. Creatures that had trusted me without question learned to fear my footsteps.
Only Pluto remained untouched.
Some faint remnant of my former self still restrained my hand whenever he appeared before me. Perhaps it was guilt. Perhaps it was love. Or perhaps I simply could not bring myself to destroy the last living reminder of the man I used to be.
Yet that restraint did not save me.
It only fed something darker.
The hatred I refused to unleash upon Pluto settled instead inside my own heart, growing heavier with every passing day.
Then came the storm.
Rain hammered the streets long after midnight as I staggered home from a rundown tavern, soaked to the bone and drowning in drink. The smell of whiskey clung to every breath. My vision blurred beneath the flickering gas lamps as I forced open the front door.
Mary hurried toward me, her face pale with worry.
“You’ve had enough,” she pleaded softly. “Please…”
I shoved her aside with more force than I intended.
“Be quiet!”
She stumbled backward, shocked into silence.
The house fell still.
Only then did I notice Pluto.
He had been resting quietly on the sofa.
Slowly, he stood.
Our eyes met.
For the first time since the day we found each other, I saw something that had never existed in his gaze before.
Not affection.
Not trust.
Fear.
He did not leap into my arms as he always had.
Instead, he took two cautious steps backward.
Without making the slightest sound, he slipped beneath the dining table, disappearing into the darkness beneath it.
I stood frozen, staring into the shadows where he had vanished.
Something inside me snapped.
The alcohol surged through my veins like fire.
An unbearable feeling spread across my mind—not sadness, not disappointment, but the poisonous certainty that I had somehow been betrayed by the one creature that had always loved me.
At that moment, the man Mary once knew ceased to exist.
The gentle soul who cherished every living thing died silently within that rain-soaked house.
What remained was only an empty shell, waiting in the darkness…
…and the abyss was already staring back.
