It was a cool September night in Mayfair. The night was lit by a full moon and sparkling stars. An unknown figure stands on the roof of a building; their eyes closed listening to the hustle and bustle from the streets below. Suddenly, an alarm sounds from a jewellery store not far from way the figure was. A robber charges out of the store, dropping a few pieces of loot as he goes.
"Stop! Thief!" a man shouted.
"Hey, watch it!" cried a woman.
"Somebody stop that guy!" another man exclaimed.
Listening to the panic from the roof, the figure says to themselves, "I intend to." Opening their eyes, the figure pursues the robber, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
On the streets below, the robber runs into Hyde Park, to the bandstand where he stops and catches his breath as he leans against one of the pillars, pulling off the balaclava. He opens the bag and looks at the jewellery he stole. He dips his hand in the bag and pulls out a handful of the jewels.
"Beautiful…" he says, admiring the jewels.
"Didn't your mother tell you that stealing is wrong?" a voice calls to the robber.
The robber stuffs the jewels back into the bag and looks around him.
"Who's there? Where are you?" the robber into the night.
The person whistled. "Up here, dummy!"
The robber looks up and sees a silhouette of the figure, with animal ears hidden in the shadows standing on the roof of the bandstand.
"You!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed.
The figure somersaults off the roof. "Yes, it is I – the Cat." The figure steps out of the shadows. The figure was a young dark-skinned female in her early twenties, wearing a black skintight catsuit, showing off her pear shape body, with attached gloves and black ankle boots, accessorized with a matching black utility belt, with ten silver cylindrical cartridges that are attached to the outside of the belt and a silver cat face buckle. She wore a black domino mask over her dark brown eyes and matching black cat ears that sat on top of her head. Her hair was black like her catsuit and wavy where the ends rested on her shoulders and her lips were carmine red.
The Cat pointed at the robber. "You, sir, are about to get your arse whoop if you don't give back those jewels."
The robber pulls out a pocket knife from the inside of his leather jacket. "I like to see you try, kitty-cat."
As the robber lunge towards the cat, she sighs. "Why do they always choose the hard way?"
The Cat dodges the attack. The robber lunges again, but the Cat leaps backwards into the air, arching out of the way of the attack.
"Missed me!" The Cat waved coyly at the robber.
"Grrrrr!" the robber growled before lunging in for a third attack, but this time, the Cat kicks the knife out of his hand and does a roundhouse kick across his face.
The robber staggers back and wipes the blood from the corner of his right lip with his thumb.
"You little bitch!" he snarled. "You're gonna pay for this!"
His hands ball into a fist and he charges at the Cat, but she cartwheels, slashing across his bag with the pocket knife as she passes him. The jewellery falls out of the new opening in the bag.
"Naughty, naughty," The Cat shakes her finger chidingly at her opponent.
"Gah!" The robber sneers disgustedly as he throws the bag down and runs off through the park, with the Cat close behind him.
"You're not gonna get away that easily!" the Cat called to the robber. She reaches to one of the cylinders of her utility belt and pulls out a shuriken and throws it at the robber.
The shuriken misses the robber's head, only snipping off the tops of his hair.
"Ha! Ya missed!" he says, looking behind him to the Cat.
"No, I didn't," said the Cat.
And with that, a tree branch falls and lands on the robber's head, knocking him out.
"I never miss," she says as she catches up to the unconscious robber.
The sirens of the police sound in the distance and a voice telling the police to search the park.
"Looks like I better skedaddle out of here. But not before I present the Metropolitan Police a little parting gift," she grinned mischievously.
xxoOoxx
"Sarge! Here are the jewels!" the male constable called to the female sergeant.
"What about the robber?" she asked the constable as she approached him. He shook his head.
"Sarge, you've got to come and see this," another male voice told the sergeant on her radio. "I'm at the Queen Caroline Memorial."
"I'm on my way, Constable Riley," the sergeant replied.
Ten minutes later, the sergeant arrived at the memorial, but stops in her tracks at the sight she sees.
"Riley!" the sergeant calls to the constable who radioed her.
A young man in his late twenties approached the sergeant. He was tall and medium build, with blond hair and green eyes.
"What the hell is this?!" the sergeant asked Riley.
"This is how we found him, Sarge," Riley replied. "It's the robber."
The robber was tied to a tree near the memorial, blindfolded and gagged, wearing nothing but white boxers. On his bare torso, drawn with a black marker pen, was a face of a cat.
"That damn Cat!" the sergeant said, putting her hands on her hips.