Wow, this is getting more reviews than my HMC fic. o.o And thank you!

If you freak out easily over blood/gore, sorry for this chapter. And for the monster, Catsafari, don't over think it. *hint hint* ;)


Blood Stains

II

The female hunched against the wall, panting heavily, saliva dripping from her mouth. Her fur looked rancid from three days of not brushing her coat. She looked up, seeing the moon hang high. She had to return to where she lived—people will start to notice that she was missing. But then again, her boyfriend was more important. She ran again. And besides, morning was hours away.

"Tohru! Tohru!"


"Muta! Muta," Baron snapped, hugging the damaged and half-dead feline to his chest. "Wake up, Muta!"

The obese feline snorted in his sleep, and stirred, opening his small beady eyes. "What do you want, Baron," he grunted, obviously peeved that the half-cat had awoken him.

"Help me," Baron growled, narrowing his eyes at the white and single-brown-spot cat.

Muta's eyes widened when he looked at the blood-soaked cat that was limping along. "Holy hell," the fat feline said, quickly getting up, and he scooped up the hurt cat. "What happened to you?"

The newest guest only grunted in return.

"Muta, quickly, put him on the couch," Baron said quickly, noticing that there was blood on his clothing, but did not seem to care. "I will get some bandages."

And with that, he rushed off to get something to cover the wounds. Muta, meanwhile, placed the bleeding cat on the cushions, and held him up. The other skinny cat looked at the floor, noticing the blood that was left on the floor and cushions.

"Oooh, no, I got blood everywhere," the cat said, his voice slurred.

"Who gives a crap, I know Baron doesn't," Muta said, staring at the blood on his stomach and chest. "Who did this to you?"

"A monster," he grunted, cupping one of his wounds with his paw, trying to cease the bleeding. He sharply swallowed the blood pooling in his mouth from biting his tongue.

That was when Baron returned, bandages and gauze in his hands, and he sat on the table, staring at the profusely bleeding wounds. "Give me your leg," Baron gently to the feline.

He reached for the leg, and the cat screeched in pain. Baron flinched, staring at the injured cat with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, looking at the deepened cuts in the legs. Whatever did this to him had vicious claws that tore through his skin as if it were tissue paper. If Baron was to look more enough at the wound, he would probably be able to see the bone of his leg. The orange and cream half-cat shuttered, and snapped his head up. "I think I need to stitch this up. Muta, could you get my thread and needle?"

"Right," Muta said, sitting up from the couch, and left the living room.

Baron stared at all the wounds that he would probably have to stitch. Two in his chest, two on his cheek, one on both of his arms, and one large cut on his leg, and one on his side, which was bleeding crimson liquid like a waterfall in a tropical rainforest. The half-cat placed the foot on his lap, and tugged off his glove with his mouth, and spat it on the floor below. He repeated the process with the other glove.

"What is your name, sir?" Baron said, inspecting the wound, trying not to gag. He could see the muscle tendons conncected to each other and what appeared to be a bone.

"I'm T-Tohru," the cat answered. "Thank you for helping me, sir. You are Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, right?"

"Yes, but you may call me Baron," the orange cat said curtly, sharply swallowing, but trying to be polite.

Muta returned with a needle and thick thread in his paws. "Here, Baron," the fat cat said, offering his friend the needed items. He turned his gaze from the cuts and scars, shaking.

"Put them on the table," Baron commanded. "Get a dampened rag and a glass of hot water, please."

Muta left without a single objection. Tohru winced as Baron shifted his bleeding leg, and the human-like cat flashed his "guest" an apologetic look. "Forgive me," he whispered, resting the leg back on his lap, and reached for the roll of bandage, opening it, and slowly unraveled it.

"It's okay, sir," Tohru whispered, wincing.

"Call me Baron."

"Right, Baron," the cat said, trying the name out on his bleeding tongue.

"Hot water and a rag," Muta said, walking carefully as he approached where the two cat were seated. "Here." He handed the rag to Baron, who then took it.

"Thank you, Muta," Baron said, and he then applied the wet rag to the wound, which quickly soaked up the blood.

Tohru hissed, slamming his other foot on the hard-wood floor. Baron's ears flattened against his head, staring hard at the feline with those soothing emerald eyes.

"Sorry," the orange cat whispered.

He then reached for the needle, tying the thick thread through the loop, and patted Tohru's leg. "Tohru, prepare for some pain," Baron said.

"I'm ushing blood like a geyser," the grey and white cat hissed, though not directly at Baron, but in pain. "I think I can take this."

Baron nodded, and looked to Muta. "Muta, I want you to wash the rag, come back, and dampen Tohru's wounds as I stitch him up."

"Sure," Muta said, grabbing the rag, and went to the kitchen not too far away.

Baron dipped the needle into the cup of hot water, sterilized it completely, and did not dry it. Water would help the needle pierce the skin easily. Muta returned, folded the wet rag, and looked to Baron, who nodded, and he started to press against the wound. That was when Baron started to stitch the open cut. Tohru whimpered, but did not move. However, he threw his head back, pressed his teeth together, and sucked air through them. This was on-going for an hour straight. After closing all the openings with his needle and thread, Baron placed gauze that was soaked in hydrogen peroxide (he never used it but only a few times when Muta or Toto would get hurt, which was rare), and covered the wounds with it, which quickly fizzed white. Tohru moaned, and Baron started to wrap the wounds.

"Thank you," Tohru whispered, cracking open his blue eyes.

"Of course, of course," Baron said curtly.

He finished wrapping the final wound, and Tohru settled comfortably on the couch. He glanced around, seeing his blood staining the cloth of everything he touched, and he noticed the stains of crimson on Baron's vest and undershirt.

"I'm sorry for the blood," Tohru whimpered, his body still aching. "I'll clean the blood."

"No, Muta and I will handle it," Baron said firmly. "You are weak. You can have my bed. I hardly use it anyways."

"Yeah, he sleeps on the windowsill over there," Muta said, a slight smirk on his face as he gestured to the windowsill.

Tohru's ears perked up, his eyes widened, and he shook his head. "No, no, Baron, I can't do that," he said, shaking his head.

"I insist," Baron said, standing up, and helped Tohru onto his feet. "Come, I'll show you."

Tohru meekly nodded, and followed the orange and cream cat, slowly limping along. Baron turned to Muta, and spoke: "Muta, could you clean up? I'll help you in a moment."

Muta nodded, and watched as Baron held tightly to Tohru, guiding him to Baron's room, which he hardly used unless he really wanted to have real sleep. But he "slept" in his doll form, so it did not matter much. Tohru and Baron walked along, the cat hissing with each movement.

"Oh, God," the grey and white cat moaned.

Baron glanced at Tohru with a frown. "Who did this to you?" he asked forlornly. "I saw you in the paper today. Were you kidnapped?"

"Yeah," hissed Tohru, his tail dragging along. "The person who did this to me was a talking mist."

"Mist?" Baron asked, arching a brow (a furry brow).

"I'm not pulling your leg," Tohru whispered, his ears low. "He was, when I first met him, an old cat. He offered me something to eat when I helped him, and he took me to his h-home. I don't know where, but I spend three days there . . . He was mist later on when I w-was running away . . ."

"Did he do this to you?"

"When I ran away. But when I w-was captured, I was well taken care of. He fed me well, and then I started to put the pieces together. He wanted to make me healthy to do something to me . . . I'm not sure why, but other 'guests' s-started to vanish and I started to forget things—like, like my family, m-my girlfriend. I figured that he killed the others—the c-c-cats he took, which I was right. He a-ate them, I think." He yelped when he placed too much weight on his foot. "I thought I was just b-being paranoid, but I wasn't." He groaned, rolling back his head.

Baron stared at the cat, and opened the door to his room. The humanoid feline led his guest along, and placed him on the bed. Tohru moaned, staring up at Baron through half-opened eyes. "I need to see my family and girlfriend," he whispered. "I miss them."

"I know you do," Baron said, gently pulling out the sheets to cover the hurt feline. "I will contact them tomorrow."

"Thank you, Baron sir," Tohru whispered, nuzzling into the pillow. "And I'm sorry about ruining your clothing and home."

"Do not worry yourself over it," Baron said curtly. "Sleep well, Tohru."

"I will, thank you."

Baron nodded, and gently shut the door. He paused, thinking. What would be the reason to kidnap, feed, and then kill your hostages? It made no sense. Baron tapped his chin, thinking. One reason he could think of is that he would kill and eat them. The half-cat twitched, trying not to wretch at the thought. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head, and stripped himself of his blood-soaked vest and undershirt, and went to the bathroom, where he proceeded to scrub the blood from them. The orange and cream feline watched as the crimson-stained water seep from the cloth and into the drain. He set them to dry when the clothing were cleaned, and returned to where he noticed Muta scrub out the blood from the rug. The fat cat glanced up, blinking.

"How's the kid?" he inquired, scrubbing harder at the floor.

"Well, I've got some strange and revolting news," Baron said, taking a rag from the kitchen, dampened it, and joined Muta on the floor.

"That would be . . .?"

He then spoke, Muta engrossed in what he was saying. Baron spoke minutely as he scrubbed in circles on the floor and rug. The fat cat blinked, staring hard at his friend.

"You think cannibalism?" he spoke after a moment of stale silence.

"Tohru seemed distant," Baron said, twisting the rag and watched the reddened water pour from it and into a bucket of dirty water. "He's lost a large amount of blood. He needs to regain his health before we inquire him anymore. But I think that is what he met. But did doesn't make sense; the cats' bodies are found in the streets and nothing was wrong with them physically. So I think he's a little delirious from the blood loss."

"Hmm," Muta hummed, scrubbing at the floor. "Well, Baron . . ."

"Yes?"

"We have a lead."

Baron's ears perked up, staring hard at the large feline, who had a smirk upon his face. He was right. They had a lead.


"Shit," the mist swore, looking into the window of the Bureau. The mist hung back, dwelling in the air for a moment before taking shape on the hard, cold ground within the shadows. Slender furry fingers drummed on a fur-covered chin as the mouth pulled to show sharp fangs. The figure backed deeper into the shadows that swallowed him up. A thought developed in this creature's head, and a baneful grin stretched its way across smooth fur. "No, good. That doll—that hunk of wood—has a soul too. Because he is a Creation, his soul will be stronger than some mortal's." Padded fingers drummed together as violent pink eyes glimmered. "Oh, this is better than I thought! Oh, I'm going to have fun. O-o-oh, yes." He chuckled in his throat. Slender fingers smoothed down gentle silk fur as he hummed in his throat. "Hmm, but I have to work this good . . . He's a tough one; I can sense it. I'm going to have to break him like a wild horse."

And with that, with a dash of panache, he was banished within the shadows; only the sound of ruffled cloth was left . . .


It was Sunday. A day off from school—she had done all her homework, Hiromi was with Tsuge on a date, her mother was gone to sell some quilts, and she missed her misfit friends at the Cat Bureau. She remembered the crazy way how to get there (she had used that route so many times), and soon she was in the small plaza filled with miniature homes and buildings. She looked up, seeing Toto on his tall pillar, not noticing her as he pecked at his mulberries.

"Hey, Toto," she greeted with a grin.

He shifted, turning his head to look at her. "Ah, Haru, I didn't hear you there," he greeted, a smile forming on his beak. "How lovely to see you. How are you?"

"Great," she answered. "You and the others?"

"Great," Toto responded, reaching down with his beak to pick up a stem of mulberries, and offered it to her.

"Oh, thank you," she said, taking the berries, and picked one from the stem.

"They're the best when completely ripe," Toto said, grinning.

She plopped the berry into her mouth, and munched on it, feeling the juices burst in her mouth. "Mmm, this is good," Haru said, beaming.

"Told you," Toto said, fluttering his long wings. "Baron is inside. Fatso's gone, thankfully."

The human female laughed. "You two should get along better," Haru said with a chuckle, tapping the top of his head before kneeling in front of the door that belonged to her dear friend.

"Yeah, when pigs fly," Toto laughed, returning to his berries.

She shook her head, and gently knocked on the door. Haru waited there as she inched backwards so that she could see her favorite half-cat properly. And when the door opened, Baron smiled gently to his human friend.

"Miss Haru, how nice to see you," he said, holding a book on poetry to his chest. "I was anticipating you today. Please, come in." Baron stepped aside and went to his favorite chair, putting the book there.

"Thank you," Haru said cheerfully, and she slipped her small briefcase through the door, and entered the highly-decorated home. She loved his decorating—perhaps she could bring him to her room for some pointers. The soothing scent of potpourri filled her nostrils, and she sighed. She loved his home; so elegant and yet so simple. It perfectly reflected the zeitgeist of the Victorian Era.

"Tea with milk?" Baron automatically asked, opening the doors to his elegant cupboard.

"Yes, please," Haru said, closing the door before sitting in her usual spot with her legs crossed and her arms over her lap.

"Of course."

"First batch?"

"Second, really," Baron said, taking his tea pot and pouring the continents into her cup. "I hope you like it." He reached for the cup, and offered it to her. "Here you are."

"Thank you," Haru said, taking the tiny cup into her hands, being careful not to hurt his tea cup.

He looked at her fondly, his eyes searching her face as his lithe tail twitched from side to side. "Anything for you, Miss Haru," Baron said softly, staring hard at his own cup.


Beep-beep-beep!

Haru slapped her hand on the alarm clock, briefly wondering to herself why she set her own alarm clock. She blinked stupidly, clinging to her cat plush toy, and yawned deeply. Just then she remembered why she set the alarm.

"Baron and the others," she said, sitting up, her stuffed toy slipping into her lap, yawning. Haru perked up, happy to think that she could see them. The last time she saw them was when they (snuck) into her graduation. And that was two weeks ago. She held up her stuffed toy, staring at its dull black plastic eyes. "Today's going to be a good day. I can feel it."

The toy looked at her, and its head tipped to the side as she chuckled.


Baron's statue form stood there in the window, looking out. His wooden form started to twitch, wooden skin and clothing becoming real—soft fur and cotton clothing replacing the hard wood. His eyes were open, and then they blinked; cool emerald iris' becoming wet and alive. The feline stretched his arms, yawning, and his tail twitched from side to side. He jumped down from the ledge he was on, noticing that Muta was no longer there. Perhaps searching for food in the human world. He then remembered Tohru was up in his room, sleeping, regaining his blood and strength. He knew food and drink would replenish his weakened body. Baron tugged at the cuff of his suit, and approached the kitchen, preparing a big breakfast for his houseguest.