I clean the blood from in between my claws as i prepare to feast upon my latest kill, a tender grey mouse. Each claw ends in a wicked point, and i sheath and unsheathe them repeatedly, my lips curling back from my pointy incisors in anticipation. They are sharp as daggers, slick enough to rip the tender flesh of any unsuspecting innocent. I enjoy the skill of the hunt, the satisfaction of claws sinking into living, breathing flesh and ending something that had just a second before been alert, anticipating, alive.
I chow down on the mouse, my teeth breaking its soft skin with ease, relishing in the sweet, tangy flavor of blood. Delicious. The human, Magnus Bane, enters the room, mumbling to himself as usual, and disappears into a different room without noticing me. Fine. I'm busy. From below i hear the noises of clattering feet, so unlike the lovely, silent padding of felines. Ignorant, idiot humans. How i would enjoy to feast upon their hearts, ending the entire idle race. Idiot humans. Idiot nephilim.
There is a silent knock on the door, unperceptable to anyone without the ears of a feline, and the dull figure of a girl steps clunkily into the room. Her hair billows down around her in angry, ratty clouds and her eyes are the dullest shade of grey imaginable. One thing attracts, though. The succulent aroma of her tender flesh entices me and i take a step towards her. Surely Magnus wouldn't mind the death of one small, unimportant girl?
Then I recognize her. She is the girl. The idiot girl who broke the heart of my master's love. What imprudence! What ghastly terror! Fierce rage bubbles up inside of me, white hot fury, and turbulent growl rips out of my throat. She freezes, taking in the sight of me; my hackles raised, my eyes ablaze with choler. She must die. Yes, she must die.
Hissing and spitting in rage, i launch myself at the unsuspecting menace, claws loose and sharp, and sink my teeth into her neck, yowling. She shrieks; in pain or in surprise i cannot tell. I rake my hind claws diagonally across her torso and blood erupts, pouring from the gaping wounds. She flops to the ground, twitching feebly. I smirk in satisfaction and pluck her still-beating heart from her open chest cavity. Delicious. What a meal. A lovely, tasty heart for a very deserving feline. I may not have rid the planet of this evil species yet, but it shall happen. It shall happen. At my paws, the race of nephilim and human shall be no more. And Chairman Meow shall rule the world.
