A storm.
Clash.
Blood.
Recklessness.
Loss.
He watched the rain fall, thoughts swirling of death. Countless murders.
Yet.
He feels as if nothing happened as he stood in the rising pool of blood, the clash of thunderdrowning the screams and pleads of life or death.
He had done this.
He had killed.
And killed.
And killed.
Yet he felt nothing.
Crash.
Crash.
Crash.
He slowly opened his eyes to the constant knocking.
"I'm up," he called and slowly got up from his sweat soaked bed. "What a nightmare..." he felt chilled seeing such sights in his dreams. His heart thundered in his chest. His limbs started to shake.
Shower, he decided and went for the bathroom.
He had work soon, then after,his night shift at the club.
He marched to his job, at a fast food joint.
Did his job.
Did it quickly.
During break he revived a text from his friend.
'Can't take care of them, I was in over my head.'
'Fine but come to feed them and clean up after them.'
'Thx'
Then back to work.
He walked back to his studio flat took the elevator up and was greeted with meowing.
"So you are the needy pussies,my friend talked about!"
Hissing
"Shut the fuck up bitch," he pushed a cat over with his footand walked to his room to shower and change.
He stretched as he walked out of his room, fully clothed in sweats and a wife beater.
He grabbed a quick bite to eat, ignoring the needy mewls. It was spring, the sun just starting to dip down, his hair now a wild black mess, his brown eyes taking on a darker deeper look.
"Damn you are all abunch of needy bastards are ya!" He turned to the calls glaring down.
Cats.
Eight cats.
"Ground rules, piss and shit outside or I'm having you for dinner or breakfast. Shut the fuck up. Do as I say."
His eyes harden as the cats were finally quiet. He breathes in a sigh, and got them some milk to drink.
"Don't be picky, this is all I got," He said and laid out some sliced balogny. They tore into itquickly. He hated cats. If only they could somehow disappear. Wait. They can. He smiled and walked over to a window and opened it. 'I'll just say I forgot,'
he thought and walked to his elevator door slipping on some shoes as the elevator opened he walked out. "I'm leaving," he said and that was that.
He enjoyed his night job.
It was calming.
He had a good figure for it.
The stage charm.
He ruled that building.
He walked in his studio flat exhausted, he had to take someone else's shift. He walked into his room and flopped down.
Banging and now meowing echoed though his room. Thankfully he didn't dream of blood and death last night.
"I'm up," he called out and slowly got up to his hands and knees. He walked into his shower and got ready for the day.
He walked into his kitchen and seen take out. His friend was an angel.
"Morning," said friend anounced himself.
"Morning," He said and satat the small dinning table watching him play with the eight cats. 'So they didn't run, damn,' he thought a bit annoyed.
"Eat, you must be starving I already feedthese guys."
He knew the play.
Butter him up with food. Distraction.
Ask for the impossible. Bargain.
Agree to it blindly. Deal.
Ask what it was. Clarify.
Life fucked.
"Before that," he said catching on, "what is it that you need?"
He froze.
He'spanicking.
He clears his mind.
Smiles.
Lie.
"What do you mean? Eat it's gonna get cold."
"I have a microwave, I don't have work today until tonight. So out with it."
He changes his schedule around often so he doesn't become predictable. His friend always wakes him early because of this.
He's shocked.
Scared.
Panics.
Defeat.
"Can you keep them?"
"I thought this was temporary."
"Please?"
Innocent eyes.
Heart strings pulled.
Can't deny.
Defeat.
"One week."
"Thank you!"
His blond friend hugs him.
This small guy could manipulate him if he wanted, he stood no chance against the blond. He lightly patted his friend. The guy smelled of sunshine and sunflowers, very uncommon in the city. He works outside the town and is often away from home more then
himself. But the small sandy blond always comes to him to wake up in the morning. He sighed and hugged back. 'Why do you have to be engaged? Why be straight?'
He could never deny this person.
He loved him too much to deny him anything.
"Danny-" phone.
"Oh hold on Seth," the blondsaid and answered. "Hey sweetheart!" Danny said pulling away from Seth. "Your outside already? Alright I'll be down shortly. Love you."
Hearing him say such things hurt.
"Thanks for breakfast," Seth said smiling up at the small boy.
"No problem, and thank you again for looking after the kitties."
"Sure, by the end of the week I would have eaten all of them."
"No," a sad quiet no. He can see tears forming.
"Fine I won't eat them. Your fiancé is waiting for you, get out."
"Right, have a good day!" Danny rushed out.
He felt tired, and ran his fingers thoughhis hair. He got up and started for the food.
After he lay in his large open space looking up at the ceiling. The cats doing whatever the hell they want, but one, a black fluffy one watched him. Next to the black one was a large grey one. A sandy long furred tabby was bouncing around him. At least
they were quiet. He silently thanked them for it.