(Mr Meows leaves the cafe looking for food)
I woke to my friend rubbing my neck. I purred in delight. I heard a sound from the kitchen. I swiftly hopped onto the countertop. Bored. I yawned, my gums and fangs exposed, my eyes watering slightly. My second eyelid closed horizontally. I stretched outrearing my claws.
I want to play. I scurried outside. Snow is cold. My claws too cold to be brought out to a degree. Though the sun is hidden by clouds, my black fur coat makes it easy to see me. I realize it will be hard to catch prey. The world hummed. Those loud apex predators making their way through the snow. Danger. Steer clear of danger.
Rustling.
No.
More like crunching.
It's subtle.
But quiet.
Silent breathing.
It knows I'm here.
The smell was bland from the cold. My whiskers stood on end. I retracted my back; backward. My tail held high.
A twitch.
A scurry.
Game.
I rushed for the mouse, the mouse skirting in and out between alleyways, trodding past pizza slices. I was faster. More agile. Born to hunt. My eyes formed vertical slits. The mouse struggled to navigate the snow. Though it had thicker fur than they normally do, it had short legs. It was not fully adapted. It rushed into an open hole in the wall. I reached my paw into the hole, feeling around.
Catch.
Game!
Snatch.
Its large fur coat just caught by my claws. I sank my fangs into its neck. The fight wasn't over yet. It kept wiggling in the air, trying to escape. Warm blood poured onto my tongue. The twitch stopped. I win.
I scurried along, my hind feet stepping into the footprints of my front. A good hunt. Then I saw another beast. Not as big as the scary roaring ones. But like my friend. There was another man he appeared to be fighting.
"Who are you?"
"Remember that woman you hanged?"
"Which one?"
He paused before speaking. "You disgust me."
"You wouldn't kill me," the man he held replied.
"Why not? The woman you killed was a big sister to me, took me in when there was no one. She was pure-hearted, strict with me, but she wasn't a hypocrite. She was austere with herself."
"She was a witch."
"You lie. This entire witch scandal is simply a means to control, for you people."
"When she was lit, she burned. If she were truly pure, as you say, then God would've saved her from the flames. Separated the flames. And as she was not, she was killed."
The man gritted his teeth, tightening his grasp upon the man's collar.
"You wouldn't kill a member of The Houses."
"Don't threaten me with a good time."
"I'll ask you once more," the man held by his collar spoke.
"What's your name?"
"Vael. Commit this name to memory. Because, after death. In every single life. Every single version of heaven and hell. I will be there to kill you. That is justice. If you die and you see me there, know you are not in heaven. But you are with me."
"Wait. How mu—"
The man who calls himself Vael would bare his fangs and dig into his throat, cutting him off, tearing out his trachea in a brutal display. His chin soaked in blood. The man on the ground coughing blood and heaving in pain. Suffocating. Asphyxiated. He would spit out blood as if it were a continuous sneeze.
Then he would turn to look at me. Ambling towards me, sinking lower and lower with each step. His hand touched the fur of my neck. And he began stroking my neck as I purred with the mouse in my mouth.
"Meow."
The man's smile formed a bloody crescent.
I scurried back home. Cold, wet paws. Blood dripping down my chin.
"The sun will turn into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes."