Since she won’t reply, and the excess of space and quiet in my house is unbearable, I get a cat. I consider a rabbit, but apparently they chew cables if they live inside. When I ask, the rescue centre says black cats are the unwanted ones. I agree to take one. A fluffy, pitch-black kitten with green eyes arrives, complete with toys and a bed she turns up her nose at, but is pretty comfortable when I sit in it.
But I am the bed of choice, as the killer kitten climbs up my body with tiny pin claws and curls up in the crook of my neck.
It doesn’t help the absence in my chest. A weird gap that I haven’t noticed before. The kitten is nice, but I still wake the next morning thinking about the girl I’m messaging.
Blake
Good morning, Death’s Apprentice.
BunnytheKiller
Yes, that has some class.
Blake
Pity. I’ll strike that off the list of potential names for my new kitten.
BunnytheKiller
You have a cat?
See, this is why I got a pet. Genius. Now I get to be considered adorable by association. I send a photo of the kitten, who is ignoring all the toys I bought her and instead playing with the shell casing from the bullet I used for my first kill. She saw it last night when she was exploring on my desk, and was immediately obsessed.
She’s definitely a mafia cat.
BunnytheKiller
She’s adorable.
Blake
I feel more inspired already. Though I haven’t chosen a name yet. What do you think?
BunnytheKiller
What’s a traditional mafia name for a cat?
Blake
I’m not sure there is one. Fluffy? Bella? Princess of Darkness?
BunnytheKiller
Sounds like she’s an assassin.
Blake
She’s showing signs. That bullet casing is her favourite toy.
What shall we name the killer cat?
BunnytheKiller
A true assassin has no name, right? An anonymous murderer.
Blake
A-kitten-has-no-name.
