This is the long-awaited 3rd part. It didn't take me too long.
Left Alone
Lopsided eyelids sagging with the heaviness of sleep still clinging, Waffle woke up from a not-so-refreshing sleep. It was still dark and the sun hadn't come out yet. He felt disappointed. Then he came to a weird realization: he was hungry.
He wondered wildly, what should he do? But he narrowed his eyes and grinned. Too easily he kept forgetting how rich he was, and… there'd a refrigerator in the Kitchen! And Kitchen meant "Food"!
This Pleasant surprise supplemented the proper motivation to urge the gray cat out of bed and into the hallway, with his energy and childish necessitation already clicking in like the complicated wiring of a high-speed computer. It didn't bother Waffle at all that the house seemed eerily quiet, but then, he thought, what would make it seem any different this morning?
His excitement was building itself like a fire, getting warmer, wilder, faster, hotter, till he was helplessly consumed by it, and by the time he did reach the kitchen, the burden of an empty stomach singed into the air like smoke.
"Hey, what's for breakfast?" he asked in his typical goofy voice walking into the kitchen, expecting the normal angry scowl on Blik's tired face, Gordon's hungry, but friendly grimaces and smell of bacon floating like fine music over the gray cat's ears: but he found he was mistaken, for as he walked into the kitchen, he paused and his building excitement shattered. No brothers, and No breakfast piping hot with the juicy grease slightly tipping over. No Mr. Blik acting proud and boastfully overbearing, and no aggravated sigh from Hovis laughably humiliated when reduced to taking his orders. Just… quiet.
"Hmm?"
But there was the refrigerator. Unguarded. Full of (His mouth was at the brink of overflowing with drool) nice, tasty food. Food the kid-like gray cat aimed for by rapidly bounding over and pulling the door wide open.
It was packed. Waffle drooled, though whether to exemplify his astonishment or simply because it was just his common reaction to any good circumstance, was anybody's guess. There was tons of food. Tons! He thought, incredibly ecstatic. But how do I go about this… hmm. I'll go about this logically. Eat all the Food in the Refrigerator. Yeah, sounds about right.
The logic of this statement made Waffle content, and the reason why a couple of hours later he was over-engorged with one satisfied belly; but it also made him terribly sleepy.
"I am one happy cat!"
The sad thing about this was that in a few moments he was to suddenly become unhappy. Very, very, unhappy. He heard, or literally felt the foreign, ghostly presence of something terrifying inside the house, and by the time he did, his eyes widened and his anxiety tripled. A Shadowy hand leaned out and grabbed his neck, provoking a horrified shriek and nasty words.
There were several posters slightly torn and colorless hanging on the walls, small bits of text plastered on them. The rest of room, as much as Gordon could make of it, seemed to be in darkness, but he was sitting under a lamp. The clock was ticking faintly, but with the conversation that followed, Gordon hardly noticed it or cared. Sitting across brown desk was a very lack-a-daisy figure draped in a white coat and 1800's style detective hat. In fact, his unique style fluidly matched the cautious, emotionless tone through which he spoke, lazily staring at Gordon like he was nothing more than a tiny fly buzzing against the wall.
Gordon coughed, once or twice. The air in that cramped room was thick with cigarette smokes and leftover litter. "You remember me, don't you? I'm Gordon, Gordon Mc Quid of the-"
The stranger figure sitting across the table flicked a pick or cigarette (Gordon couldn't tell what) from his gritty, jagged teeth. "Spare me the introductions, kid." Gordon heard almost wheezy coughing and didn't know what to think.
"Uh… I… I…"
"You come all the way here and ask to see me. I don't want to be a waste of your time. Nor do you to mine." The figure leaned forward. He had brown cat ears, a stony frown and sleepless baggy eyes.
To be continued.