Spy
Prolouge
Time moved slowly down there. The rusty iron doors and unpolished metal walls hide all sunlight. The endless hallways, a maze of bunks, rec-rooms and vaults where impossible for outsiders to navigate.
The Hidden Paw are one of the most notorious tribes in all of London. Their leader, Macavity, was a ruthless killer, a murderous psychopath, and the love of Demeter's life. He found her, a few days old, abandoned, curled up in a little ball, half dead. He was more compassionate then because he took her in.
She was still a kitten, though barely. She was tougher than most her age. She had been caught in many fights. Her back was like a swirl of scars and her fur was dirty because she never had time to clean it.
She came face to face with an old mattered door. She knocked once and the door squealed open. There he stood, the so called "Napoleon-of-Crime".
"Demeter, my love," he cooed as he sauntered over to her "Where have you been? I was so worried!"
"I was," she coughed "Umm… exploring. Checking the area. I know we have night patrol, but you can never be too careful."
"Right," he said, his throat working, "Well. I have found this new-born tom, discarded on the side of the road. He seems tough enough."
He brought her over to a box. Her heart stopped when she saw the size of the kitten inside. He was about the length of a teaspoon. He was a tiny tabby, fast asleep. He was covered in white, orange and black stripes.
"I'm not sure where he's from," Macavity whispered, hoping not to wake the sleeping tom "but, before he fell asleep, he told me his name was Mungojerrie. I'm going to give him to Slyvania. You know, the all grey one."
Slyvania could possibly be the worst thing for this underfed tom. She was one of the kitten carers. She was malicious. Physical abuse was her favourite way of punishment and nobody could tell anyone else for fear of Slyvania's rathe.
"Okay, um… anything else?" Demeter asked as she fiddled with her mint green collar.
"Oh, I almost forgot, you know the Jellicle Tribe?"
"Who doesn't?"
The Jellicle Tribe are well known within the Hidden Paw. They were possibly the worst tribe to ever grace London. Of course, majority of the Hidden Paw (including Demeter) hated the Jellicles because they had everything we wanted. A loving family, a safe place to live, a future that's not full of hatred and sadness. Rumours within the Paw say that Macavity once belonged to the tribe and was exiled for… unknown reasons.
"Well, Deme," Macavity continued "I want you to go into the Jellicle tribe, disguised as a stray cat looking for a home. I will set up a correspondent for you to send me information. When I have enough information to plan an attack, I will send the correspondent to tell you so you can fight with your family."
It took me a second for the assignment to sink in. Demeter would be going into the heart of her most hated tribe. She was a pretty good actor, but masking such upmost, complete and utter hatred would be tough. A wicked smirk appeared on Demeter's face.
"It would be my honour." She said, but in her head she was swearing at herself in her head.
Macavity smiled a cunning smile.
"My dear," he cooed "We need you to be taken in for injuries. So, come with me, my love, and that shall be arranged."
Demeter's heart sank. So, this is how it has to be, per the norm. Abuse like normal. Macavity was an asshole sometimes.