So thrilled to see this up now! I hope we get some more TWH fanfictions soon. Also, this contains SPOILERS to psuedo-third ending.
A Name
He never was given a name. Not even when he rose through the ranks through his black magic - Or the appraisal of his Creator, the hellish being and great soul-eater - whom he delighted in impressing.
No, he was never offered a chance to give himself a name. He went by the number of whom he was conjured - the number in each line of never ending creations - his brothers and sisters whom he shared the parent with.
The demon pulled himself through to the mortal world when he grew bored with the life below the earthly grounds. However, the light singed his shade until the body of a black cat offered shelter for the pained being to possess.
Why not? The soul was already fed on. He grinned widely, abstractly, as he clothed himself in the cat's body. He welcomed the stench of a many-week-old scent of death which left its trail the moment it knew death would blanket his flickering life. After all, the body was now his. No?
City life as a cat was terrible so he moved into the rural areas where he would meet the purple-haired girl who sulked in her misery. There, a perfect plan developed, and he would take the girl under his wing.
….
The girl was named Ellen. At least she had a name in spite of her family's devout interest in their jobs than their daughter. It would explain how the cat lavished in the fury whom humans developed in time.
She would treat him like a pet until the coast was cleared. By then: She would be expressing herself through the use of the black cloud hovering over her slender fingertips and the patience lived within her - passionately - to learn. He would feed on the souls she offered him and he would linger with the timer until she demanded more sternly for a time in the cure.
He wanted an easier way to change bodies every now and then. The black cat's body earned him his name. Black Cat or Mister Cat as Ellen would call him. He accepted the name though it was more of a noun than an actual name.
She would call him over often:
"Black Cat? Are you coming?"
"Silly demon. You thought I couldn't do this."
He was referred to with simple words. He still hung around, his yellow eyes piercing, and hungry looking as he waited for his easy prey. Mouse souls were never enough when he played a mouser. He was decent, but their frail bodies made it less exciting for him. He didn't exactly develop cat instincts.
"Kitty" became his name when the golden-haired girl came to play. He accepted it if Ellen liked her company, but he smirked when he knew her intentions. He was still a kitty, but he learned more than an average one could bear or be.
Ellen-turned-Viola reached the end of when the Black Cat knew his time with the once purple-haired girl was up. He straightened himself up while he rested on his haunches. The purple ground felt comfy and he decided to relish the good memories.
Strangely, he liked his faithful witch. She must liked him too when she knelt down before his abstract body ejected itself from the maw, and uttered a name for him. His ears perked up and his eyes twinkled as well as the green eyes filled with careful intellect and light of the ability to be healthy.
His abstract hands reached out to his cat ear to caress the new name before he slipped below to his native realm.