Pet

I don't know who I am, where I came from, or anything of that sort. All I am is a stray. A dog. I remember having a family, but they cast me aside when I accidentally broke a really expensive vase or something like that.

I really did like that family. They had called me 'Death' because my fur was black and white in some places. Even after being thrown out like the trash I kept that nickname and the collar. I had once seen a cat get taken by strange people in a van before because he didn't have one.

Perhaps it was time to leave them behind. The loyalty that reigned in my thoughts told me not to, but I was getting hungry. Very hungry. It was clear that they weren't going to open the front door for me. But I waited a week, eating from garbage cans, for them to apologize and take me back. It didn't happen.

Once I had gotten sick of eating plastic and was lonely enough to stop eating altogether, I left. A disgrace to dog-kind. But I didn't feel like a dog at all. Something…different.

I couldn't count on my paws just how many times I stole from that hot dog stand run by the man with red hair. He always gave chase, which was rather enjoyable, and I did get away with a full stomach. Usually other animals living on the street tried to intimidate me, but I could easily scare them away.

My heart was growing more and more distant, and colder. I was becoming every human's worst nightmare; Death itself. I was sure I was living up to that name well, but had yet to actually take another life.

But even so, like a grim reaper, my hatred for humans grew. They did nothing for me but shoo me away. Not once did one give me a snack. Or a home. Or love. Nothing. All they did give was indifference to my life. Humans think they're better than us animals. Che.

One time, those twin Siamese cats were planning to use their appearance to gain some sympathy from the humans and get a home at long last. Cats are stupid. They want homes, but when they have one they act like they'd rather be out in the streets. Hypocrites.

I still don't know who I am, but I've become the master of the outdoors. The big boss of the animals. I've told those strays that I am 'Death the Dog,' and of course they would bow down to me. I killed a chicken to prove it. I had never felt more…alive. But at the same time, it felt evil.

I led many missions with them, and the main objective was to steal food. All times were successful, until our last one together.

Our target was a teenage girl carrying bags full of groceries. She looked sad, but I didn't care. She was human, so that meant she hated us. We needed to carry out revenge against those wretched things.

Everything was going smoothly, all my companions were snapping at those plastic bags. I was supposed to distract her from taking them back. The most dangerous task.

My paws were already moving as I nipped at her heel. Like I expected she turned around to look at whoever did that and saw me. She had a strange look in her eyes and I just…froze.

The other animals were beckoning me over to them from a corner, but before I could make it to them that girl picked me up. I struggled immediately, telling her to let me go.

"You look just like him…" She whispered and stared at me sadly. I glared at her as hard as I could, and even contemplated biting her hand.

"Do they call you Death?" My glare turned into a curious look. I nodded once. I don't know why the other animals say they can't understand what the humans speak, because I can hear it perfectly.

"Death…Let's go home." She smiled at me. Was this the one those cats spoke of? "You'll know when you see the one who is your true owner," they had said. But still, humans only take you in to kick you out again. As a warning, I opened my mouth and put it on her finger. I gave a little pressure, but not enough to draw blood.

She only smiled, and I did bite. But she didn't pull away. Was I weak? Were my teeth not sharp enough? Instead, she used her other hand to pet me and she began walking away from my partners.

Don't you care about the food you just lost? I watched over her shoulder and saw the other animals eating, not caring that I was getting dognapped. But her fingers felt nice in my fur. It felt wrong for me to get treated like I hadn't ever done anything to hurt someone; like I was an innocent puppy.

At some point we were in a house. Or apartment, rather. She closed the door behind us and set me down on a couch. I was already formulating an escape plan and thinking of how I should punish those strays for abandoning me.

She sat down and put me on her lap. I gave her another warning look but did nothing. She pet me and showed me a picture of some human boy that, oddly, shared some similar features as me.

"That's Death the Kid. Doesn't he look just like you? The black and white hair, your yellow eyes, that skull-looking spot on your chest…And you're even called 'Death,' right?" She had a hopeful look in her eyes. Did she think that I was him?

Perhaps she would feed me if she thought so. Maybe give me shelter. I planned to take advantage of her, and nodded.

"You know…He passed away while saving me…Do you think…maybe…That you are him?" She stopped petting me while waiting for an answer.

I looked her in the eyes and slowly tilted my head to show a 'yes.' I really was evil. If she found out that I wasn't who she thought I was…

"Really? If that's true, then I'll call you 'Death the Dog' since you are a dog. And do you remember me? I'm Maka Albarn if you don't. You can live here with me!" She gushed out happily. Maka continued to talk and talk about everything I could think of. I reached up with both of my front paws and closed her mouth.

I gave her a look that should have explained what I was thinking. Be quiet. You're too loud.

My cold heart slowly melted around her. The way she acted towards me after I told her I was that boy in the picture really showed me how much she loved him. I thrived in that affection and found over time that I loved her too. She really was that one special owner.

But I wasn't him. I was Death the Dog. I didn't know who I was or anything about myself, but I knew I couldn't have been him in a past life. It was ridiculous.

However, Maka seemed to believe it. At night she would always pat her bed and ask me to join her. Of course I would accept, (the bed is really comfortable), and she would hug me all night.

She often spoke about that guy and her friends to me. They held a big place in her heart. I hoped I had one too. I felt bad for all of the strays who thought all humans were evil, and how they were out in the cold while I was cuddled up with the kindest one. I often wanted to show them how wonderful this love could be, but found that I wanted it all for myself.

I really wasn't Death the Kid. Just a stray with a strange fur pattern. But I really did love that girl. Perhaps it was wrong to impersonate him. But she was happy to have supposedly found him again.

What he didn't know was that he was him.