The Lies, The Fear, And The Black Cat-Humanitys Dumbest Curse

A beautiful lucky Black Cat

Lies,The The Fear, and The Black Cat — Humanity’s Dumbest Curse

by Darklady—

darkwitchery.com

Halloween.

Samhain.

All Hallows’ Eve.

The night the veil thins, the dead whisper, and humanity proves once again it hasn’t evolved since the Dark Ages.

While witches like me are lighting candles and communing with ancestors, some people are out there doing their yearly tradition — proving they’re still terrified of the color black and anything smarter than they are.

That’s right, it’s the annual persecution of the black cat — the most majestic, misunderstood creature ever to stalk a porch under moonlight.

Let’s talk about it — because apparently, we still have to.

A Brief History of Human Stupidity

Once upon a time, Europe was full of people who couldn’t tell the difference between illness, weather, and witchcraft. They were terrified of women who could read and animals that didn’t bark on command.

Somewhere between their prayers and their panic, someone decided that witches could turn into black cats.

That’s right — not ravens, not wolves, not serpents.

Cats.

Because nothing says “dark lord’s emissary” like an animal that naps 18 hours a day and ignores you the rest.

Then Pope Gregory IX (because of course it was a Pope) decided black cats were evil incarnate. Cue centuries of bonfires, torture, and executions — for both witches and their four-legged companions.

Villagers were literally burning cats to “drive away evil,” and then acted surprised when the plague rolled in on the backs of happy, rat-filled vermin.

Congratulations, medieval humanity. You killed your natural pest control and blamed Satan for the fleas.

Fast Forward to Today

Now, you’d think we’d have grown out of this nonsense by 2025. We have the internet, space telescopes, and AI that can write better sermons than half the preachers out there.

But no — every Halloween, shelters lock down black-cat adoptions because some people still think owning one will summon Beelzebub or ruin their luck.

Here’s a reality check: the only “bad luck” a black cat brings is when you trip over it in the dark because you were too busy texting.

Some people will even harm or abduct them on Halloween — because in their pea-sized brains, hurting an animal somehow earns them cosmic brownie points.

These are the same folks who preach love and kindness on Sunday which is all laughable, and think cruelty is a costume the rest of the week.

Let me be clear: if you hurt a black cat, you’re not edgy, satanic, or powerful. You’re just a walking disappointment with opposable thumbs.

The Witch and Her Familiar — The Real Story

Witches didn’t “turn into” black cats. We befriended them.

Why? Because they’re independent, loyal on their own terms, and perfectly capable of staring into the dark without flinching — sound familiar?

They’re little shadow mirrors of us. You don’t own a black cat; you earn one.

They sit by your cauldron, judge your candle placement, and silently demand tuna tributes in exchange for cosmic protection.

They’re your familiar, your skeptic, your living shadow.

If you’ve ever watched a black cat stare at an empty corner of the room and hiss — you know they see what’s really lurking there. They’re not evil. They’re right.

Halloween: Humanity at Its Most Hypocritical

Every year I watch people decorate their lawns with fake tombstones, plastic skeletons, and dollar-store “witch legs” sticking out of bushes — and then those same people cross themselves when a black cat walks by.

You worship fake corpses but can’t handle a real creature that breathes mystery?

That’s not spirituality; that’s cowardice with a candy wrapper.

Halloween is supposed to be the one night the world celebrates darkness — and somehow, even then, people still manage to fear it.

Want to know the real curse of the black cat? Humanity’s inability to outgrow its own superstition.

A black cat doesn’t hex you. It doesn’t steal your soul. It doesn’t care if you’re a witch, a preacher, or a pumpkin-spice influencer. The curse is what happens when ignorance meets power it can’t control — and tries to destroy it.

That’s been the pattern forever. Witches, women, cats — anything that refuses obedience gets branded “evil.”

So here we are, centuries later, still untangling that mess. Still protecting creatures who’ve done nothing but exist beautifully in the dark.

If You Want to Help (Instead of Whine)

Here’s your to-do list for tonight, because awareness posts don’t stop cruelty — action does:

Keep your black cats inside. It’s not paranoia; it’s survival.

Check your yards and porches before midnight. They love warmth and hiding spots.

Report anyone acting cruel or suspicious.

Support shelters that specialize in black-cat rescues.

Stop sharing dumb superstition memes about “bad luck.” You’re not being funny; you’re feeding the same ignorance that got cats burned alive.

Adopt one.

Or two.

Let your christain neighbors whisper.

Their fear tastes delicious.

To the Black Cats of the World

You’ve survived fire, religion, and centuries of human nonsense. You deserve your own feast day, not to be hidden away on Halloween. You are darkness made flesh, the night with whiskers, the quiet pulse that reminds us that beauty doesn’t need validation.

You are luck, charm, and warning all in one elegant, disdainful package.

And if I were ever to “turn into” anything, it wouldn’t be a cat — it would be the shadow that protects them.

My Closing Word

So tonight, when you see a black cat dart through the fog, don’t whisper superstition. Whisper thank you. They’ve been keeping your world balanced while humans drown in their own fear.

And to those who still think witches turn into cats — honey, if we could, you’d have been clawed a long time ago.

Happy Samhain, my wicked ones. Keep your cats close, your candles lit, and your middle finger ready for anyone still living in the 1600s.

— Dark Witchery darkwitchery.com

✨️✨️✨️REVIEWS✨️✨️✨️

✨️✨️✨️✨️🎃✨️✨️✨️✨️

Darklady never misses. Her Halloween piece cuts right through the fake spooky fluff and drags truth out by the throat. I’ll never look at a black cat the same way again.

— Selene V.

✨️✨️✨️✨️🎃✨️✨️✨️✨️

🕯️ Review: “Darklady’s Halloween Truths — The Black Cat Chronicles”

If Halloween had a pulse, it would beat in sync with Darklady’s words.

Her latest piece isn’t your typical cutesy pumpkin-spice fluff — it’s a razor-edged sermon from the altar of shadows. She drags the myths of black cats into the cold light, slices through centuries of fear and superstition, and hands you the still-beating truth with a wicked grin.

You can almost hear the scratch of her pen like claws across coffin wood. Every line drips with that trademark sarcasm — the kind that burns the righteous and comforts the damned.

She doesn’t just write about Halloween — she resurrects it, wraps it in velvet darkness, and reminds you that this night was never about candy or costumes. It’s about remembrance, death, and the beautiful dance between them.

By the time you finish, you’ll be side-eyeing every shadow in your room and whispering thanks to your cat for not turning you in to the inquisitors.

Darklady doesn’t celebrate Halloween. She commands it.

5 out of 5 — A must-read for anyone who’s ever felt the pull of the dark, and black cats.

Now if you have enjoyed this reading subscribe monthly to my paid subscription today to learn more about Dark Witchery.

Subscribe here

👇

Monthly Witch A beautiful lucky Black Cat

The Lies, The Fear, and The Black Cat — Humanity’s Dumbest Curse

by Darklady—

darkwitchery.com

Halloween.

Samhain.

All Hallows’ Eve.

The night the veil thins, the dead whisper, and humanity proves once again it hasn’t evolved since the Dark Ages.

While witches like me are lighting candles and communing with ancestors, some people are out there doing their yearly tradition — proving they’re still terrified of the color black and anything smarter than they are.

That’s right, it’s the annual persecution of the black cat — the most majestic, misunderstood creature ever to stalk a porch under moonlight.

Let’s talk about it — because apparently, we still have to.

A Brief History of Human Stupidity

Once upon a time, Europe was full of people who couldn’t tell the difference between illness, weather, and witchcraft. They were terrified of women who could read and animals that didn’t bark on command.

Somewhere between their prayers and their panic, someone decided that witches could turn into black cats.

That’s right — not ravens, not wolves, not serpents.

Cats.

Because nothing says “dark lord’s emissary” like an animal that naps 18 hours a day and ignores you the rest.

Then Pope Gregory IX (because of course it was a Pope) decided black cats were evil incarnate. Cue centuries of bonfires, torture, and executions — for both witches and their four-legged companions.

Villagers were literally burning cats to “drive away evil,” and then acted surprised when the plague rolled in on the backs of happy, rat-filled vermin.

Congratulations, medieval humanity. You killed your natural pest control and blamed Satan for the fleas.

Fast Forward to Today

Now, you’d think we’d have grown out of this nonsense by 2025. We have the internet, space telescopes, and AI that can write better sermons than half the preachers out there.

But no — every Halloween, shelters lock down black-cat adoptions because some people still think owning one will summon Beelzebub or ruin their luck.

Here’s a reality check: the only “bad luck” a black cat brings is when you trip over it in the dark because you were too busy texting.

Some people will even harm or abduct them on Halloween — because in their pea-sized brains, hurting an animal somehow earns them cosmic brownie points.

These are the same folks who preach love and kindness on Sunday which is all laughable, and think cruelty is a costume the rest of the week.

Let me be clear: if you hurt a black cat, you’re not edgy, satanic, or powerful. You’re just a walking disappointment with opposable thumbs.

The Witch and Her Familiar — The Real Story

Witches didn’t “turn into” black cats. We befriended them.

Why? Because they’re independent, loyal on their own terms, and perfectly capableof staring into the dark without flinching — sound familiar?

They’re little shadow mirrors of us. You don’t own a black cat; you earn one.

They sit by your cauldron, judge your candle placement, and silently demand tuna tributes in exchange for cosmic protection.

They’re your familiar, your skeptic, your living shadow.

If you’ve ever watched a black cat stare at an empty corner of the room and hiss — you know they see what’s really lurking there. They’re not evil. They’re right.

Halloween: Humanity at Its Most Hypocritical

Every year I watch people decorate their lawns with fake tombstones, plastic skeletons, and dollar-store “witch legs” sticking out of bushes — and then those same people cross themselves when a black cat walks by.

You worship fake corpses but can’t handle a real creature that breathes mystery?

That’s not spirituality; that’s cowardice with a candy wrapper.

Halloween is supposed to be the one night the world celebrates darkness — and somehow, even then, people still manage to fear it.

Want to know the real curse of the black cat? Humanity’s inability to outgrow its own superstition.

A black cat doesn’t hex you. It doesn’t steal your soul. It doesn’t care if you’re a witch, a preacher, or a pumpkin-spice influencer. The curse is what happens when ignorance meets power it can’t control — and tries to destroy it.

That’s been the pattern forever. Witches, women, cats — anything that refuses obedience gets branded “evil.”

So here we are, centuries later, still untangling that mess. Still protecting creatures who’ve done nothing but exist beautifully in the dark.

If You Want to Help (Instead of Whine)

Here’s your to-do list for tonight, because awareness posts don’t stop cruelty — action does:

Keep your black cats inside. It’s not paranoia; it’s survival.

Check your yards and porches before midnight. They love warmth and hiding spots.

Report anyone acting cruel or suspicious.

Support shelters that specialize in black-cat rescues.

Stop sharing dumb superstition memes about “bad luck.” You’re not being funny; you’re feeding the same ignorance that got cats burned alive.

Adopt one.

Or two.

Let your christain neighbors whisper.

Their fear tastes delicious.

To the Black Cats of the World

You’ve survived fire, religion, and centuries of human nonsense. You deserve your own feast day, not to be hidden away on Halloween. You are darkness made flesh, the night with whiskers, the quiet pulse that reminds us that beauty doesn’t need validation.

You are luck, charm, and warning all in one elegant, disdainful package.

And if I were ever to “turn into” anything, it wouldn’t be a cat — it would be the shadow that protects them.

My Closing Word

So tonight, when you see a black cat dart through the fog, don’t whisper superstition. Whisper thank you. They’ve been keeping your world balanced while humans drown in their own fear.

And to those who still think witches turn into cats — honey, if we could, you’d have been clawed a long time ago.

Happy Samhain, my wicked ones. Keep your cats close, your candles lit, and your middle finger ready for anyone still living in the 1600s.

— Dark Witchery darkwitchery.com

✨️✨️✨️REVIEWS✨️✨️✨️

✨️✨️✨️✨️🎃✨️✨️✨️✨️

Darklady never misses. Her Halloween piece cuts right through the fake spooky fluff and drags truth out by the throat. I’ll never look at a black cat the same way again.

— Selene V.

✨️✨️✨️✨️🎃✨️✨️✨️✨️

🕯️ Review: “Darklady’s Halloween Truths — The Black Cat Chronicles”

If Halloween had a pulse, it would beat in sync with Darklady’s words.

Her latest piece isn’t your typical cutesy pumpkin-spice fluff — it’s a razor-edged sermon from the altar of shadows. She drags the myths of black cats into the cold light, slices through centuries of fear and superstition, and hands you the still-beating truth with a wicked grin.

You can almost hear the scratch of her pen like claws across coffin wood. Every line drips with that trademark sarcasm — the kind that burns the righteous and comforts the damned.

She doesn’t just write about Halloween — she resurrects it, wraps it in velvet darkness, and reminds you that this night was never about candy or costumes. It’s about remembrance, death, and the beautiful dance between them.

By the time you finish, you’ll be side-eyeing every shadow in your room and whispering thanks to your cat for not turning you in to the inquisitors.

Darklady doesn’t celebrate Halloween. She commands it.

5 out of 5 — A must-read for anyone who’s ever felt the pull of the dark, and black cats.

Now if you have enjoyed this reading subscribe monthly to my paid subscription today to learn more about Dark Witchery.

Subscribe here

👇

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