A/N: Another new fic folks. This one started as a couple of random scenes and it's sort of snowballed. It's going to be another epic, and there's lots going on. It's something I'm writing to help with chronic writer's block and it helps. I haven't got the full plot totally organised in my mind and it's very much subject to editing but I'm pleased with the first chapter the way it is and I figured it was worth posting to prove I'm not dead. It's very dark themed and there will be deaths and violence and other nasty stuff. Don't like it, tough.

Edit: My Horizontal rules have failed. I fixed them so the scene changes should be a bit more obvious than before. Yeah. Whoops.


Chapter 1 – Getting To Know You

"Who'd have thought a cat that size would contain so much blood? Fascinating. Simply fascinating. I'm impressed at just how long he held on too, before finally giving up. Most cats don't last half as long as that before kicking the bucket. I almost got bored listening to his screams. You know the drill, kit, cold water and salt before you do anything else. We wouldn't want to leave any stains after all."

The young tomkit gulped, suppressed nausea preventing speech and causing him to simply nod in response to his master's instructions. Of course he knew how to clean up blood, he'd been doing it for a year, ever since the age of seven. Little Carbucketty was grateful when Macavity abruptly ignored him, breathing a tiny sigh of relief when the door slammed shut and he was left alone to his task. It never got easier, watching them die so cruelly. He watched the tin bucket fill with icy water, wondering if he'd ever get used to it.

The chestnut coloured tomkit carefully tiptoed around the body, not even tempted to touch it. He'd outgrown the curiosity months before. Carbucketty had outgrown many things; at an age where most kittens are playing wrestling with their siblings, he was working twelve hours a day, grateful to get two meals a day. Still, he treated the dead cat with respect while he scrubbed the concrete floor with a rough old brush. Carbucketty was never jealous of other kits, he'd never met another cat his age. This was his life, and he had never been told of anything different.


"Busy day, love?"

Macavity didn't even glance up at the sugary sweet purr. He closed the door slowly before turning around to face the source of the purr. It was an all too frequent occurrence and one he'd come to expect.

"Pretty normal, I'd say. You're in a better mood," the ginger tom observed, shrugging a little as he eyed the gold coloured queen currently sprawled across his desk.

"Mm… I found out something rather intriguing this afternoon."

"Oh really? And what might that be?"

"There's a new player in town. Seems he's quite dangerous, pet. Enough to catch your interest, at any rate."

"I'm intrigued, my darling little Honey." Macavity replied in that same sickly sweet tone.

Stifling a giggle, the queen went on, failing to completely cover up her pleased grin as she sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the desk so that she was facing him properly. She missed the slight hint of irritation suggested by the ginger tom's scrutiny.

"Don't send the mob out just yet though, Boss. Supposedly he's a bit of a rogue, a free agent. Meet 'im first, you might like 'im."

"Has he got a name, pet?" Macavity prompted; fairly certain he knew what was coming.

"I can get you one." Honey replied.

"That's my girl. If this all works out, you might even get a reward."

"Will do my best, sweetie," the golden queen chirped, sliding to the floor and sashaying out of the room feeling very pleased with herself.

Macavity watched her leave before moving from his position by the door. He sat down at the desk, frowning at a couple of gold hairs on top of one of his books. If she hadn't been so devious and so loyal, he'd have got rid of Honey years ago. He could not deny her usefulness, even if she was prone to causing his headaches. Sweeping the stray fur aside, he pulled out a notebook and set to work.

Seemingly at random, he flicked from page to page, reading some things and writing other things; all of it in an odd shorthand created entirely by the ginger tom. What he kept in these notebooks was anybody's guess, as only he could read them. The best way to keep anything private was to ensure nobody else could understand it. It was always much more amusing to hide things in plain view.


"Has anyone actually seen him lately?"

"Who?"

"George. You seen him?"

"No. Hm. Not for ages actually. You think he's okay?"

"How am I meant to know, Plato? I haven't seen him either." Admetus snapped irritably.

"You're the one that's asking, Addy. Maybe we should call round there, check he's okay." Plato spoke reasonably, too used to Admetus' snappishness to be particularly upset by it.

"Alright. C'mon, it's nearly shutting time anyway."

The two patched toms put down their empty glasses, waving a goodnight to the barmaid as they left the pub. It was dark outside and rather quiet. Most cats were either at home or still in a pub somewhere. The toms continued to talk about their friend as they padded along the pavement.

"He's probably just busy you know," Plato suggested after a while.

"With what, Plato?"

"Er… I dunno. Maybe a queen?"

"Are you kidding? George would be down here with us telling us everything about her. He's not exactly quiet about that sort of thing, is he?"

"Maybe he's serious about this one?" A shrug accompanied the half hearted idea.

"Whatever." Admetus shook his head, glancing up at the windows of George's house as they approached. "It looks awfully dark."

"Maybe he's in bed."

"Maybe. Still, something's not right about this. We should still check."

"Right."

Admetus padded up to the door, amber eyes examining everything for a sign of something odd. Outside, the house looked normal. It felt empty though; there was not a light or sign of life anywhere. He paused, considering knocking on the door but choosing instead to peek through the front window to avoid any nasty surprises.

Nothing was out of place. Not even a book lying on the coffee table, no empty glasses or mugs, nothing. The place was spotless. Immediately Admetus was suspicious, George was not that tidy. Not even when he was having company over.

"Plato, come check this out. Something's happened."

"What? He cleaned? That's what you're worried about?" Plato muttered, leaning over Admetus' shoulder to see from the front step.

"I didn't think he knew how to. I'm telling you something is wrong here."

"I guess. Maybe we should tell Munkustrap, he'll know what to do."

"Good plan," Admetus agreed, but something made him pause. "Did you hear that?" He was certain he'd just heard a rustle, or something.

"Fuck." The whispered curse was barely audible, but it was audible.

"I heard that. I'm sure I did." Plato insisted.

Admetus nodded, he too had heard the voice. They stopped and listened for a couple of minutes, but heard no further sound. They didn't find anything after a quick look around either, nobody was hiding in the bushes, or behind the shed or in the broken old greenhouse George had never bothered getting rid of.

"Whoever it was, I think they've gone." Admetus said quietly.

"Uh huh. We should go. Come back in the daylight."

"Yeah."


"Over there, Honey."

"Thanks pet. I owe you one." Honey replied to the tom at the bar, winking at him before she walked towards the lonely looking tom sitting in one of the corner booths nursing his drink.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Fuck off… uh, sure." Alonzo changed his mind immediately, when he looked up and saw who was asking to sit with him. She was pretty, a little too curvy for his tastes but nonetheless, pleasing to the eye. She could easily be a place to stay for the night.

"Thanks." The gold queen pretended not to hear the first part of his reply and smiled sweetly as she took a seat beside him, placing her glass of wine on the table. "You looked lonely."

The black and white tom shrugged. "Maybe."

"You new in town, sweetie?"

"Yeah. Sort of. Visited before but never stayed."

"Fair enough. So what brings you 'ere then, love?"

"Change of scene." Alonzo gave another shrug, looking over the queen beside him. "You got a name, darlin'?"

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," she purred, sipping at her drink.

The patched tom paused before answering, almost long enough to seem suspicious before he answered. "What harm could it do? I'm Alonzo."

"Honey. Nice to meet you, Alonzo." The gold queen replied, pretty certain that she had the right tom now, allowing her to press ahead.

Alonzo stared at the queen, incredibly curious about her flirting. It seemed to be a little over the top, even if he had caught her interest. He'd met queens like that before, queens that seemed to work hard to get you interested. He narrowed his eyes a little.

"You're not a hooker, are you? I've got no money, darlin'."

"Of course not! I find that quite offensive," the gold queen snapped haughtily.

"Sorry. Just… I don't know many around here, yet. Just making sure." Alonzo tried to sound apologetic, holding up his paws in surrender.

"Okay, fair enough, love. I've got better ways to earn my living. Who do you know around here?"

"Just a couple of toms. Best if I don't…"

"I understand completely."

"You do?" Alonzo asked, somewhat sceptical.

"Of course, darling. Wouldn't be where I am if I didn't know the value of discretion."

"So where exactly is it you are, babe?"

Honey grinned wickedly. She couldn't possibly tell him that though. "Can't tell you. Not yet. You gotta watch out in this town, never know who's listenin',"

"I did hear of one cat to watch out for. Goes by the name Macavity. You know him?"

"I know of him, pet. Why?" The gold queen said vaguely.

"Just curious. Doesn't matter. I think right now, it would be a much better use of my time to get to know you better." For the first time, Alonzo managed a smile, one that was clearly flirtatious and rather suggestive.

"Sounds like a plan, sweetie." Honey agreed.