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Jus**t wrote this s**traight out, firs**t draft, part of my s**tory, hope you enjoy it, comments if you like please. If you don't know, then Renna is a female white cat.
--------------------
There wasn't much pleasure to this. Renna doubted there ever really was, she couldn't really remember.
Nor could she tell you how many she had killed. Although, it was a very thin line to tread to wherever she really killed them, or simply talked them into suicide.
Which was all she really did. The pyschological assassin, the emotional hit-man. The beauty of being invisible. She simply followed the... chosen, around. Sometimes it took days, sometimes it took weeks before she could pinpoint what could drive someone over the edge. Drive them to kill themselves.
Everyone had it in them. Everybody had their fears. And sometimes, sometimes... it would only take hours...
And she'd give it all up in a second. But she was tied now. She had signed her life away...
The firs**t was the mos**t rewarding. It was her own choice, nobody paid her. It was how she s**tarted to learn.
One late night, upon the dark sky and silver rain, there lay a screaming doe in the hands of a bulldog, under the cover of metal sheets down some dark alley. The drenched Renna spent mos**t nights wandering around alone. It was that one night that she witnessed the rape.
In a wave of courage she slashed the dog's throat, who simply clutched himself and ran off, dripping in blood. The deer, unaware of what happened, was simply thankful to be left alone, and crawled into a corner to cry.
Renna wanted to whisper to her. To hold her, comfort her. No matter how many times you can feel completely useless in your lifetime, it seems that you can never get used to it.
Talking was a hassle. She had done all she could, she left the doe in the alley. She'd be ok. She'd probably s**tart a religion about how she was saved by some bright light or some other kinda celes**tial being.
But it wasn't long before Renna found the man again, dressed in a suit and on his way to what mus**t have been his work. An angry and bitter Renna followed, quietly behind.
The thought of slashing the man to pieces however, calmed, with the thought that perhaps there was a more powerful way to dispose of this creature.
Renna watched over his shoulder as he typed in his username and password. His name was Steven, his username was s**teven_hedley and his password was 'luther'.
Renna simply leant forward, and whispered in his ear.
"I know what you did."
He turned around, immedietely. Of course, he saw nothing but the empty room behind him. Somebody was in the copy office, running the photocopier. He looked up, caught eye contact, then returned to s**taring at the copier without a single emotion in his face.
As Steve turned back to look at his screen, Renna simply took his keys, then walked towards the lift. Nobody really cared for lifts that went up and down on their own accord. Nobody really noticed.
Renna unlocked the back door of the car, and walked back up to watch Steve for the res**t of the day, to see what she could learn.
She learnt little. Steve spent mos**t of the day secretly looking at porn, and he was being contacted by someone about a widescreen tv that Steve had bought off him on an auction website, claiming that Steve had not yet paid. He replied in an unformal language, and firmly told the owner of the television that the cheque had been sent and that Steve would pay him a visit with a baseball bat if he refused to send the tv.
She left before he did, and got into the back of his car. She gripped the seat as he got in, s**tarted the car and turned on very loud music which seemed to shake apart the entire car.
After-work road rage commenced, and Renna began to feel very, very afraid. What the hell was she doing? She had jus**t got in a car with a rapis**t bulldog, with the intent to drive him insane. She should jus**t get out now.
But then, what was the chance of him seeing her? She had her claws... she could get out at any time. She was quite safe.
He pulled over, and got out. Renna waited until he was inside before opening the door, and getting out. She was lucky the car had no alarm.
She peered in through the windows. He had walked s**traight into the kitchen, and was preparing something in a microwave.
Night came.
It looked like he was s**taying in tonight. Renna had found a window open in his bathroom, which was downs**tairs and away from what seemed to be his bedroom. Steve finished watching late night porn, then proceeded ups**tairs.
Renna reached in through the top, and opened a side window. She climbed in, carefully... Renna wasn't the smalles**t of cats, but she wasn't that fat, even though her confidence often told her otherwise.
She climbed down onto the toilet, and carefully walked out of the bathroom and into his house. She looked around as she walked to the sofa.
She dragged one claw along the s**titching, tearing it open and pulling out the s**tuffing. She glared ups**tairs.
Walking softly with her hands on the rails, she came to his room. He was too busy to notice as the door slid open, and Renna walked into the room.
Steve was in bed, mas**t*rbating. She walked around, s**till wondering why she didn't jus**t slash him to pieces right now.
She leant over the bed, and s**tared him s**traight into his screwed up eyes as he vigorously pumped himself. She blew on his nose. Nothing.
Gently, she moved her face down to his ear, careful not to tickle him with her whiskers. And as he breathed in and out, she simply sat and waited until he s**tarted to orgasm.
The foul grunts that came from him indicated so... and Renna took in a deep breath, and as loud as she could, she coughed into his ear.
He twis**ted and screamed, then yelled in pain as he had seemed to twis**t himself quite badly. Renna smiled as he clutched himself in bed, a disgus**ting mess of a creature.
She smiled, and walked out of the open door. Soon enough he'd get up, and s**tart checking the house was locked and nobody was inside with intent to injure.
But Renna was far from finished.
She crawled under a table in the kitchen... hopefully the mos**t unlikely place to be trodden on in the house. She tucked her tail between her legs and tried to drift off into sleep.
She slept maybe an hour, perhaps a bit more. Her mind was too focused on how she could really affect him.
He came down, whispered 'what the f**k..' to himself as he found the tear in the sofa, and eventually sat at the table. She was already sitting on the washing machine. She walked up behind him and s**tarted talking.
"Why do you do it? Why did you do it?"
He looked around as she s**tarted to talk, but kept talking as he looked s**traight through her.
"Why did you do it?" She said, s**taring into his eyes. She had felt a massive amount of confidence come over her. She was going to do this. Steve's breathing was deeper now. Harder.
She was in the car ready when he came, sitting behind the driver seat. He sat, s**tarted the car, and s**tared s**traight through Renna's glare as he reversed out of the drive.
He had only jus**t s**tarted driving when she s**tarted talking again.
"You were going to kill her, weren't you?"
"You wanted her dead. You wanted her ripped to pieces jus**t so you could satisfy your f**king c*ck."
"You selfish sh*t. You f**king selfish piece of sh*t."
And finally he cracked.
"SHUT UP! SHUT THE F**K UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! SHUT UP!"
He drove fas**ter. Renna gripped her claws into the seat.
It was s**till early. Steve was twitching. Perhaps he didn't sleep well las**t night either.
He slid around corners, screeching around far too fas**t. Renna checked that her seatbelt was s**till on... and that's when she had the idea.
Steve was driving like a maniac now.
"But you didn't kill her, did you? And now she's gonna go to the police. She knows exactly what you look like. She knows you were cut... that she cut your throat and you ran off. They'll find you, and you'll go s**traight to jail, and hell, you deserve it, you piece of sh*t."
Steve was breathing so fas**t now. Renna moved down as he turned around, trying to search under the seats and looking forward every now and again to keep control of the car. She braced herself.
Steve watched as the safety catch of his seatbelt coming undone on it's own, and his seatbelt flying off his body to get caught on his right arm. Then, he felt claws pierce into his arms, and pulling them away from the s**teering wheel. Renna tore through his arms, ripping his muscles open, leaving him helplessly screaming as the car went flying into another that was speeding towards them.
He was flung spinning through the window, and Renna yelled in pain as she was slung into the seatbelt as it tightened around her wais**t. She heard the thump of Steve hitting the other car, and smashing the window of that one too.
The car roared off the road, and span in the air... it landed on it's roof, smashing it down, screeching then sliding as the car went down a bank, and into a river.
It felt like an age before Renna opened her eyes. She was winded badly, and breathing heavily.
She undid her seatbelt and climbed over the seat to the smashed and crumpled front. The car was half in the water and half out. Scared for her life, she climbed out, wondering what the hell she had done.
She had blood all over her white fur, and had cut her face open, and twis**ted her left leg. She nursed it and walked up the bank..
The other car was... It had span around, crushed into nothing. She limped towards the car, s**taring into it. A family of dogs sat inside the car, perfectly dead. And sitting on the bloody lap of a crushed puppy, maybe about 8 years old, sat the bulldog head of Steve.
Renna collapsed to the floor, crying her eyes out. She curled into a ball, screaming.
Which is why she only dealt in suicide now. Everything had to planned out, to the smalles**t detail. No more innocents.
For the longes**t time after killing Steve, did the puppy haunt her. When she went to sleep, she could see no more than the dead twis**ted body of the puppy, with Steve's mutilated shocked head sitting on his lap...
The closes**t she had ever been to suicide. It opens your eyes.
She recalled the puppy as she walked down to the table. In a way, it was how she possessed her gift.
Because now she simply pictured the puppy, the family that she had murdered, and then she posessed all the s**trength in the world to tear anyone to pieces. To make them believe how absolutely f**king awful they really were. Because that's exactly how she felt.
It went like so. She sat at the table, and she was given a photo, a name, and an address. Someone who had cheated on their wife, someone who owed money, killers, hippy boyfriends of daughters of rich businessmen, it didn't matter who. She was the voice of paranoia.
She looked s**traight into the face of the photo.
A familiar face s**tared s**traight back at her.
"I can't do this. Not him."
"I think, my dear..." Came the reply. "...that you don't have much of a choice."
Renna looked up from the photo. Not him. Not him.
--------------------
There wasn't much pleasure to this. Renna doubted there ever really was, she couldn't really remember.
Nor could she tell you how many she had killed. Although, it was a very thin line to tread to wherever she really killed them, or simply talked them into suicide.
Which was all she really did. The pyschological assassin, the emotional hit-man. The beauty of being invisible. She simply followed the... chosen, around. Sometimes it took days, sometimes it took weeks before she could pinpoint what could drive someone over the edge. Drive them to kill themselves.
Everyone had it in them. Everybody had their fears. And sometimes, sometimes... it would only take hours...
And she'd give it all up in a second. But she was tied now. She had signed her life away...
The firs**t was the mos**t rewarding. It was her own choice, nobody paid her. It was how she s**tarted to learn.
One late night, upon the dark sky and silver rain, there lay a screaming doe in the hands of a bulldog, under the cover of metal sheets down some dark alley. The drenched Renna spent mos**t nights wandering around alone. It was that one night that she witnessed the rape.
In a wave of courage she slashed the dog's throat, who simply clutched himself and ran off, dripping in blood. The deer, unaware of what happened, was simply thankful to be left alone, and crawled into a corner to cry.
Renna wanted to whisper to her. To hold her, comfort her. No matter how many times you can feel completely useless in your lifetime, it seems that you can never get used to it.
Talking was a hassle. She had done all she could, she left the doe in the alley. She'd be ok. She'd probably s**tart a religion about how she was saved by some bright light or some other kinda celes**tial being.
But it wasn't long before Renna found the man again, dressed in a suit and on his way to what mus**t have been his work. An angry and bitter Renna followed, quietly behind.
The thought of slashing the man to pieces however, calmed, with the thought that perhaps there was a more powerful way to dispose of this creature.
Renna watched over his shoulder as he typed in his username and password. His name was Steven, his username was s**teven_hedley and his password was 'luther'.
Renna simply leant forward, and whispered in his ear.
"I know what you did."
He turned around, immedietely. Of course, he saw nothing but the empty room behind him. Somebody was in the copy office, running the photocopier. He looked up, caught eye contact, then returned to s**taring at the copier without a single emotion in his face.
As Steve turned back to look at his screen, Renna simply took his keys, then walked towards the lift. Nobody really cared for lifts that went up and down on their own accord. Nobody really noticed.
Renna unlocked the back door of the car, and walked back up to watch Steve for the res**t of the day, to see what she could learn.
She learnt little. Steve spent mos**t of the day secretly looking at porn, and he was being contacted by someone about a widescreen tv that Steve had bought off him on an auction website, claiming that Steve had not yet paid. He replied in an unformal language, and firmly told the owner of the television that the cheque had been sent and that Steve would pay him a visit with a baseball bat if he refused to send the tv.
She left before he did, and got into the back of his car. She gripped the seat as he got in, s**tarted the car and turned on very loud music which seemed to shake apart the entire car.
After-work road rage commenced, and Renna began to feel very, very afraid. What the hell was she doing? She had jus**t got in a car with a rapis**t bulldog, with the intent to drive him insane. She should jus**t get out now.
But then, what was the chance of him seeing her? She had her claws... she could get out at any time. She was quite safe.
He pulled over, and got out. Renna waited until he was inside before opening the door, and getting out. She was lucky the car had no alarm.
She peered in through the windows. He had walked s**traight into the kitchen, and was preparing something in a microwave.
Night came.
It looked like he was s**taying in tonight. Renna had found a window open in his bathroom, which was downs**tairs and away from what seemed to be his bedroom. Steve finished watching late night porn, then proceeded ups**tairs.
Renna reached in through the top, and opened a side window. She climbed in, carefully... Renna wasn't the smalles**t of cats, but she wasn't that fat, even though her confidence often told her otherwise.
She climbed down onto the toilet, and carefully walked out of the bathroom and into his house. She looked around as she walked to the sofa.
She dragged one claw along the s**titching, tearing it open and pulling out the s**tuffing. She glared ups**tairs.
Walking softly with her hands on the rails, she came to his room. He was too busy to notice as the door slid open, and Renna walked into the room.
Steve was in bed, mas**t*rbating. She walked around, s**till wondering why she didn't jus**t slash him to pieces right now.
She leant over the bed, and s**tared him s**traight into his screwed up eyes as he vigorously pumped himself. She blew on his nose. Nothing.
Gently, she moved her face down to his ear, careful not to tickle him with her whiskers. And as he breathed in and out, she simply sat and waited until he s**tarted to orgasm.
The foul grunts that came from him indicated so... and Renna took in a deep breath, and as loud as she could, she coughed into his ear.
He twis**ted and screamed, then yelled in pain as he had seemed to twis**t himself quite badly. Renna smiled as he clutched himself in bed, a disgus**ting mess of a creature.
She smiled, and walked out of the open door. Soon enough he'd get up, and s**tart checking the house was locked and nobody was inside with intent to injure.
But Renna was far from finished.
She crawled under a table in the kitchen... hopefully the mos**t unlikely place to be trodden on in the house. She tucked her tail between her legs and tried to drift off into sleep.
She slept maybe an hour, perhaps a bit more. Her mind was too focused on how she could really affect him.
He came down, whispered 'what the f**k..' to himself as he found the tear in the sofa, and eventually sat at the table. She was already sitting on the washing machine. She walked up behind him and s**tarted talking.
"Why do you do it? Why did you do it?"
He looked around as she s**tarted to talk, but kept talking as he looked s**traight through her.
"Why did you do it?" She said, s**taring into his eyes. She had felt a massive amount of confidence come over her. She was going to do this. Steve's breathing was deeper now. Harder.
She was in the car ready when he came, sitting behind the driver seat. He sat, s**tarted the car, and s**tared s**traight through Renna's glare as he reversed out of the drive.
He had only jus**t s**tarted driving when she s**tarted talking again.
"You were going to kill her, weren't you?"
"You wanted her dead. You wanted her ripped to pieces jus**t so you could satisfy your f**king c*ck."
"You selfish sh*t. You f**king selfish piece of sh*t."
And finally he cracked.
"SHUT UP! SHUT THE F**K UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! SHUT UP!"
He drove fas**ter. Renna gripped her claws into the seat.
It was s**till early. Steve was twitching. Perhaps he didn't sleep well las**t night either.
He slid around corners, screeching around far too fas**t. Renna checked that her seatbelt was s**till on... and that's when she had the idea.
Steve was driving like a maniac now.
"But you didn't kill her, did you? And now she's gonna go to the police. She knows exactly what you look like. She knows you were cut... that she cut your throat and you ran off. They'll find you, and you'll go s**traight to jail, and hell, you deserve it, you piece of sh*t."
Steve was breathing so fas**t now. Renna moved down as he turned around, trying to search under the seats and looking forward every now and again to keep control of the car. She braced herself.
Steve watched as the safety catch of his seatbelt coming undone on it's own, and his seatbelt flying off his body to get caught on his right arm. Then, he felt claws pierce into his arms, and pulling them away from the s**teering wheel. Renna tore through his arms, ripping his muscles open, leaving him helplessly screaming as the car went flying into another that was speeding towards them.
He was flung spinning through the window, and Renna yelled in pain as she was slung into the seatbelt as it tightened around her wais**t. She heard the thump of Steve hitting the other car, and smashing the window of that one too.
The car roared off the road, and span in the air... it landed on it's roof, smashing it down, screeching then sliding as the car went down a bank, and into a river.
It felt like an age before Renna opened her eyes. She was winded badly, and breathing heavily.
She undid her seatbelt and climbed over the seat to the smashed and crumpled front. The car was half in the water and half out. Scared for her life, she climbed out, wondering what the hell she had done.
She had blood all over her white fur, and had cut her face open, and twis**ted her left leg. She nursed it and walked up the bank..
The other car was... It had span around, crushed into nothing. She limped towards the car, s**taring into it. A family of dogs sat inside the car, perfectly dead. And sitting on the bloody lap of a crushed puppy, maybe about 8 years old, sat the bulldog head of Steve.
Renna collapsed to the floor, crying her eyes out. She curled into a ball, screaming.
Which is why she only dealt in suicide now. Everything had to planned out, to the smalles**t detail. No more innocents.
For the longes**t time after killing Steve, did the puppy haunt her. When she went to sleep, she could see no more than the dead twis**ted body of the puppy, with Steve's mutilated shocked head sitting on his lap...
The closes**t she had ever been to suicide. It opens your eyes.
She recalled the puppy as she walked down to the table. In a way, it was how she possessed her gift.
Because now she simply pictured the puppy, the family that she had murdered, and then she posessed all the s**trength in the world to tear anyone to pieces. To make them believe how absolutely f**king awful they really were. Because that's exactly how she felt.
It went like so. She sat at the table, and she was given a photo, a name, and an address. Someone who had cheated on their wife, someone who owed money, killers, hippy boyfriends of daughters of rich businessmen, it didn't matter who. She was the voice of paranoia.
She looked s**traight into the face of the photo.
A familiar face s**tared s**traight back at her.
"I can't do this. Not him."
"I think, my dear..." Came the reply. "...that you don't have much of a choice."
Renna looked up from the photo. Not him. Not him.
It's good
I read lots of short stories recently and that was up to the same level as them, if a little shorter.
I read lots of short stories recently and that was up to the same level as them, if a little shorter.
Reading Grix's stuff is a lot like reading Pratchett, in that it's far easier to understand if you've read his other pieces, too.
Although 'easier' is a relative term. Not much of what Grix writes could ever be interpreted as actually being 'easy' to understand.
Although 'easier' is a relative term. Not much of what Grix writes could ever be interpreted as actually being 'easy' to understand.
Ahha, questions.
Ineedsleep wrote:
"That was odd to read and no comments could be useful at this point as there is no idea of why the cat is invisible and angry (unless you posted something earlier which I missed)"
Um, because.
"Why would she perceive humans as bulldogs, puppies and does?"
Because they're all animals. I made a bit of mistake and wrote 'man' a few times, so err, ignore that. I have lots of animal characters.
"Confusing - it's like opening a book and reading a page but not reading enough yet to decide if you should just put it down and forget it or curl up with it on the sofa."
Well, that's fair enough. It wasn't really meant to be a 'keep reading, more to come' sort of episode, it's actually tying up something that's happened previously.
"Any chance his main characteristics were inspired by Goatboy?"
Not intentionally. =) All my characters are based on myself.
Ineedsleep wrote:
"That was odd to read and no comments could be useful at this point as there is no idea of why the cat is invisible and angry (unless you posted something earlier which I missed)"
Um, because.
"Why would she perceive humans as bulldogs, puppies and does?"
Because they're all animals. I made a bit of mistake and wrote 'man' a few times, so err, ignore that. I have lots of animal characters.
"Confusing - it's like opening a book and reading a page but not reading enough yet to decide if you should just put it down and forget it or curl up with it on the sofa."
Well, that's fair enough. It wasn't really meant to be a 'keep reading, more to come' sort of episode, it's actually tying up something that's happened previously.
"Any chance his main characteristics were inspired by Goatboy?"
Not intentionally. =) All my characters are based on myself.
Yeah, I do agree with the swearing thing, I'll keep that in mind. In kinda defence, I just wrote it straight out so I wasn't that bothered with descriptive writing, just getting the main details out of what really happened.
So cool, ta.
So cool, ta.
Dr Duck wrote:
> And the cliffhanger ending didin't help
Didn't help - in that it did make me want more. Just so I'm (hopefully) clear.
> And the cliffhanger ending didin't help
Didn't help - in that it did make me want more. Just so I'm (hopefully) clear.
*Wants more Amneshire*
And the cliffhanger ending didin't help
:^)
I'd agree with what Snuggly said though. At least partially.
And the cliffhanger ending didin't help
:^)
I'd agree with what Snuggly said though. At least partially.
Swearing in descriptive text puts me off, it makes it sound like you've a limited vocabulary when I know you haven't. It should really be limited to character speech. You know I'm right.
That was odd to read and no comments could be useful at this point as there is no idea of why the cat is invisible and angry (unless you posted something earlier which I missed) or who gives her the assignments. Why would she perceive humans as bulldogs, puppies and does? Confusing - it's like opening a book and reading a page but not reading enough yet to decide if you should just put it down and forget it or curl up with it on the sofa.
Any chance his main characteristics were inspired by Goatboy?
Any chance his main characteristics were inspired by Goatboy?
Strange weavings. The 'overall' story must be one bizarre and fascinating affair.
Jus**t wrote this s**traight out, firs**t draft, part of my s**tory, hope you enjoy it, comments if you like please. If you don't know, then Renna is a female white cat.
--------------------
There wasn't much pleasure to this. Renna doubted there ever really was, she couldn't really remember.
Nor could she tell you how many she had killed. Although, it was a very thin line to tread to wherever she really killed them, or simply talked them into suicide.
Which was all she really did. The pyschological assassin, the emotional hit-man. The beauty of being invisible. She simply followed the... chosen, around. Sometimes it took days, sometimes it took weeks before she could pinpoint what could drive someone over the edge. Drive them to kill themselves.
Everyone had it in them. Everybody had their fears. And sometimes, sometimes... it would only take hours...
And she'd give it all up in a second. But she was tied now. She had signed her life away...
The firs**t was the mos**t rewarding. It was her own choice, nobody paid her. It was how she s**tarted to learn.
One late night, upon the dark sky and silver rain, there lay a screaming doe in the hands of a bulldog, under the cover of metal sheets down some dark alley. The drenched Renna spent mos**t nights wandering around alone. It was that one night that she witnessed the rape.
In a wave of courage she slashed the dog's throat, who simply clutched himself and ran off, dripping in blood. The deer, unaware of what happened, was simply thankful to be left alone, and crawled into a corner to cry.
Renna wanted to whisper to her. To hold her, comfort her. No matter how many times you can feel completely useless in your lifetime, it seems that you can never get used to it.
Talking was a hassle. She had done all she could, she left the doe in the alley. She'd be ok. She'd probably s**tart a religion about how she was saved by some bright light or some other kinda celes**tial being.
But it wasn't long before Renna found the man again, dressed in a suit and on his way to what mus**t have been his work. An angry and bitter Renna followed, quietly behind.
The thought of slashing the man to pieces however, calmed, with the thought that perhaps there was a more powerful way to dispose of this creature.
Renna watched over his shoulder as he typed in his username and password. His name was Steven, his username was s**teven_hedley and his password was 'luther'.
Renna simply leant forward, and whispered in his ear.
"I know what you did."
He turned around, immedietely. Of course, he saw nothing but the empty room behind him. Somebody was in the copy office, running the photocopier. He looked up, caught eye contact, then returned to s**taring at the copier without a single emotion in his face.
As Steve turned back to look at his screen, Renna simply took his keys, then walked towards the lift. Nobody really cared for lifts that went up and down on their own accord. Nobody really noticed.
Renna unlocked the back door of the car, and walked back up to watch Steve for the res**t of the day, to see what she could learn.
She learnt little. Steve spent mos**t of the day secretly looking at porn, and he was being contacted by someone about a widescreen tv that Steve had bought off him on an auction website, claiming that Steve had not yet paid. He replied in an unformal language, and firmly told the owner of the television that the cheque had been sent and that Steve would pay him a visit with a baseball bat if he refused to send the tv.
She left before he did, and got into the back of his car. She gripped the seat as he got in, s**tarted the car and turned on very loud music which seemed to shake apart the entire car.
After-work road rage commenced, and Renna began to feel very, very afraid. What the hell was she doing? She had jus**t got in a car with a rapis**t bulldog, with the intent to drive him insane. She should jus**t get out now.
But then, what was the chance of him seeing her? She had her claws... she could get out at any time. She was quite safe.
He pulled over, and got out. Renna waited until he was inside before opening the door, and getting out. She was lucky the car had no alarm.
She peered in through the windows. He had walked s**traight into the kitchen, and was preparing something in a microwave.
Night came.
It looked like he was s**taying in tonight. Renna had found a window open in his bathroom, which was downs**tairs and away from what seemed to be his bedroom. Steve finished watching late night porn, then proceeded ups**tairs.
Renna reached in through the top, and opened a side window. She climbed in, carefully... Renna wasn't the smalles**t of cats, but she wasn't that fat, even though her confidence often told her otherwise.
She climbed down onto the toilet, and carefully walked out of the bathroom and into his house. She looked around as she walked to the sofa.
She dragged one claw along the s**titching, tearing it open and pulling out the s**tuffing. She glared ups**tairs.
Walking softly with her hands on the rails, she came to his room. He was too busy to notice as the door slid open, and Renna walked into the room.
Steve was in bed, mas**t*rbating. She walked around, s**till wondering why she didn't jus**t slash him to pieces right now.
She leant over the bed, and s**tared him s**traight into his screwed up eyes as he vigorously pumped himself. She blew on his nose. Nothing.
Gently, she moved her face down to his ear, careful not to tickle him with her whiskers. And as he breathed in and out, she simply sat and waited until he s**tarted to orgasm.
The foul grunts that came from him indicated so... and Renna took in a deep breath, and as loud as she could, she coughed into his ear.
He twis**ted and screamed, then yelled in pain as he had seemed to twis**t himself quite badly. Renna smiled as he clutched himself in bed, a disgus**ting mess of a creature.
She smiled, and walked out of the open door. Soon enough he'd get up, and s**tart checking the house was locked and nobody was inside with intent to injure.
But Renna was far from finished.
She crawled under a table in the kitchen... hopefully the mos**t unlikely place to be trodden on in the house. She tucked her tail between her legs and tried to drift off into sleep.
She slept maybe an hour, perhaps a bit more. Her mind was too focused on how she could really affect him.
He came down, whispered 'what the f**k..' to himself as he found the tear in the sofa, and eventually sat at the table. She was already sitting on the washing machine. She walked up behind him and s**tarted talking.
"Why do you do it? Why did you do it?"
He looked around as she s**tarted to talk, but kept talking as he looked s**traight through her.
"Why did you do it?" She said, s**taring into his eyes. She had felt a massive amount of confidence come over her. She was going to do this. Steve's breathing was deeper now. Harder.
She was in the car ready when he came, sitting behind the driver seat. He sat, s**tarted the car, and s**tared s**traight through Renna's glare as he reversed out of the drive.
He had only jus**t s**tarted driving when she s**tarted talking again.
"You were going to kill her, weren't you?"
"You wanted her dead. You wanted her ripped to pieces jus**t so you could satisfy your f**king c*ck."
"You selfish sh*t. You f**king selfish piece of sh*t."
And finally he cracked.
"SHUT UP! SHUT THE F**K UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! SHUT UP!"
He drove fas**ter. Renna gripped her claws into the seat.
It was s**till early. Steve was twitching. Perhaps he didn't sleep well las**t night either.
He slid around corners, screeching around far too fas**t. Renna checked that her seatbelt was s**till on... and that's when she had the idea.
Steve was driving like a maniac now.
"But you didn't kill her, did you? And now she's gonna go to the police. She knows exactly what you look like. She knows you were cut... that she cut your throat and you ran off. They'll find you, and you'll go s**traight to jail, and hell, you deserve it, you piece of sh*t."
Steve was breathing so fas**t now. Renna moved down as he turned around, trying to search under the seats and looking forward every now and again to keep control of the car. She braced herself.
Steve watched as the safety catch of his seatbelt coming undone on it's own, and his seatbelt flying off his body to get caught on his right arm. Then, he felt claws pierce into his arms, and pulling them away from the s**teering wheel. Renna tore through his arms, ripping his muscles open, leaving him helplessly screaming as the car went flying into another that was speeding towards them.
He was flung spinning through the window, and Renna yelled in pain as she was slung into the seatbelt as it tightened around her wais**t. She heard the thump of Steve hitting the other car, and smashing the window of that one too.
The car roared off the road, and span in the air... it landed on it's roof, smashing it down, screeching then sliding as the car went down a bank, and into a river.
It felt like an age before Renna opened her eyes. She was winded badly, and breathing heavily.
She undid her seatbelt and climbed over the seat to the smashed and crumpled front. The car was half in the water and half out. Scared for her life, she climbed out, wondering what the hell she had done.
She had blood all over her white fur, and had cut her face open, and twis**ted her left leg. She nursed it and walked up the bank..
The other car was... It had span around, crushed into nothing. She limped towards the car, s**taring into it. A family of dogs sat inside the car, perfectly dead. And sitting on the bloody lap of a crushed puppy, maybe about 8 years old, sat the bulldog head of Steve.
Renna collapsed to the floor, crying her eyes out. She curled into a ball, screaming.
Which is why she only dealt in suicide now. Everything had to planned out, to the smalles**t detail. No more innocents.
For the longes**t time after killing Steve, did the puppy haunt her. When she went to sleep, she could see no more than the dead twis**ted body of the puppy, with Steve's mutilated shocked head sitting on his lap...
The closes**t she had ever been to suicide. It opens your eyes.
She recalled the puppy as she walked down to the table. In a way, it was how she possessed her gift.
Because now she simply pictured the puppy, the family that she had murdered, and then she posessed all the s**trength in the world to tear anyone to pieces. To make them believe how absolutely f**king awful they really were. Because that's exactly how she felt.
It went like so. She sat at the table, and she was given a photo, a name, and an address. Someone who had cheated on their wife, someone who owed money, killers, hippy boyfriends of daughters of rich businessmen, it didn't matter who. She was the voice of paranoia.
She looked s**traight into the face of the photo.
A familiar face s**tared s**traight back at her.
"I can't do this. Not him."
"I think, my dear..." Came the reply. "...that you don't have much of a choice."
Renna looked up from the photo. Not him. Not him.
--------------------
There wasn't much pleasure to this. Renna doubted there ever really was, she couldn't really remember.
Nor could she tell you how many she had killed. Although, it was a very thin line to tread to wherever she really killed them, or simply talked them into suicide.
Which was all she really did. The pyschological assassin, the emotional hit-man. The beauty of being invisible. She simply followed the... chosen, around. Sometimes it took days, sometimes it took weeks before she could pinpoint what could drive someone over the edge. Drive them to kill themselves.
Everyone had it in them. Everybody had their fears. And sometimes, sometimes... it would only take hours...
And she'd give it all up in a second. But she was tied now. She had signed her life away...
The firs**t was the mos**t rewarding. It was her own choice, nobody paid her. It was how she s**tarted to learn.
One late night, upon the dark sky and silver rain, there lay a screaming doe in the hands of a bulldog, under the cover of metal sheets down some dark alley. The drenched Renna spent mos**t nights wandering around alone. It was that one night that she witnessed the rape.
In a wave of courage she slashed the dog's throat, who simply clutched himself and ran off, dripping in blood. The deer, unaware of what happened, was simply thankful to be left alone, and crawled into a corner to cry.
Renna wanted to whisper to her. To hold her, comfort her. No matter how many times you can feel completely useless in your lifetime, it seems that you can never get used to it.
Talking was a hassle. She had done all she could, she left the doe in the alley. She'd be ok. She'd probably s**tart a religion about how she was saved by some bright light or some other kinda celes**tial being.
But it wasn't long before Renna found the man again, dressed in a suit and on his way to what mus**t have been his work. An angry and bitter Renna followed, quietly behind.
The thought of slashing the man to pieces however, calmed, with the thought that perhaps there was a more powerful way to dispose of this creature.
Renna watched over his shoulder as he typed in his username and password. His name was Steven, his username was s**teven_hedley and his password was 'luther'.
Renna simply leant forward, and whispered in his ear.
"I know what you did."
He turned around, immedietely. Of course, he saw nothing but the empty room behind him. Somebody was in the copy office, running the photocopier. He looked up, caught eye contact, then returned to s**taring at the copier without a single emotion in his face.
As Steve turned back to look at his screen, Renna simply took his keys, then walked towards the lift. Nobody really cared for lifts that went up and down on their own accord. Nobody really noticed.
Renna unlocked the back door of the car, and walked back up to watch Steve for the res**t of the day, to see what she could learn.
She learnt little. Steve spent mos**t of the day secretly looking at porn, and he was being contacted by someone about a widescreen tv that Steve had bought off him on an auction website, claiming that Steve had not yet paid. He replied in an unformal language, and firmly told the owner of the television that the cheque had been sent and that Steve would pay him a visit with a baseball bat if he refused to send the tv.
She left before he did, and got into the back of his car. She gripped the seat as he got in, s**tarted the car and turned on very loud music which seemed to shake apart the entire car.
After-work road rage commenced, and Renna began to feel very, very afraid. What the hell was she doing? She had jus**t got in a car with a rapis**t bulldog, with the intent to drive him insane. She should jus**t get out now.
But then, what was the chance of him seeing her? She had her claws... she could get out at any time. She was quite safe.
He pulled over, and got out. Renna waited until he was inside before opening the door, and getting out. She was lucky the car had no alarm.
She peered in through the windows. He had walked s**traight into the kitchen, and was preparing something in a microwave.
Night came.
It looked like he was s**taying in tonight. Renna had found a window open in his bathroom, which was downs**tairs and away from what seemed to be his bedroom. Steve finished watching late night porn, then proceeded ups**tairs.
Renna reached in through the top, and opened a side window. She climbed in, carefully... Renna wasn't the smalles**t of cats, but she wasn't that fat, even though her confidence often told her otherwise.
She climbed down onto the toilet, and carefully walked out of the bathroom and into his house. She looked around as she walked to the sofa.
She dragged one claw along the s**titching, tearing it open and pulling out the s**tuffing. She glared ups**tairs.
Walking softly with her hands on the rails, she came to his room. He was too busy to notice as the door slid open, and Renna walked into the room.
Steve was in bed, mas**t*rbating. She walked around, s**till wondering why she didn't jus**t slash him to pieces right now.
She leant over the bed, and s**tared him s**traight into his screwed up eyes as he vigorously pumped himself. She blew on his nose. Nothing.
Gently, she moved her face down to his ear, careful not to tickle him with her whiskers. And as he breathed in and out, she simply sat and waited until he s**tarted to orgasm.
The foul grunts that came from him indicated so... and Renna took in a deep breath, and as loud as she could, she coughed into his ear.
He twis**ted and screamed, then yelled in pain as he had seemed to twis**t himself quite badly. Renna smiled as he clutched himself in bed, a disgus**ting mess of a creature.
She smiled, and walked out of the open door. Soon enough he'd get up, and s**tart checking the house was locked and nobody was inside with intent to injure.
But Renna was far from finished.
She crawled under a table in the kitchen... hopefully the mos**t unlikely place to be trodden on in the house. She tucked her tail between her legs and tried to drift off into sleep.
She slept maybe an hour, perhaps a bit more. Her mind was too focused on how she could really affect him.
He came down, whispered 'what the f**k..' to himself as he found the tear in the sofa, and eventually sat at the table. She was already sitting on the washing machine. She walked up behind him and s**tarted talking.
"Why do you do it? Why did you do it?"
He looked around as she s**tarted to talk, but kept talking as he looked s**traight through her.
"Why did you do it?" She said, s**taring into his eyes. She had felt a massive amount of confidence come over her. She was going to do this. Steve's breathing was deeper now. Harder.
She was in the car ready when he came, sitting behind the driver seat. He sat, s**tarted the car, and s**tared s**traight through Renna's glare as he reversed out of the drive.
He had only jus**t s**tarted driving when she s**tarted talking again.
"You were going to kill her, weren't you?"
"You wanted her dead. You wanted her ripped to pieces jus**t so you could satisfy your f**king c*ck."
"You selfish sh*t. You f**king selfish piece of sh*t."
And finally he cracked.
"SHUT UP! SHUT THE F**K UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! SHUT UP!"
He drove fas**ter. Renna gripped her claws into the seat.
It was s**till early. Steve was twitching. Perhaps he didn't sleep well las**t night either.
He slid around corners, screeching around far too fas**t. Renna checked that her seatbelt was s**till on... and that's when she had the idea.
Steve was driving like a maniac now.
"But you didn't kill her, did you? And now she's gonna go to the police. She knows exactly what you look like. She knows you were cut... that she cut your throat and you ran off. They'll find you, and you'll go s**traight to jail, and hell, you deserve it, you piece of sh*t."
Steve was breathing so fas**t now. Renna moved down as he turned around, trying to search under the seats and looking forward every now and again to keep control of the car. She braced herself.
Steve watched as the safety catch of his seatbelt coming undone on it's own, and his seatbelt flying off his body to get caught on his right arm. Then, he felt claws pierce into his arms, and pulling them away from the s**teering wheel. Renna tore through his arms, ripping his muscles open, leaving him helplessly screaming as the car went flying into another that was speeding towards them.
He was flung spinning through the window, and Renna yelled in pain as she was slung into the seatbelt as it tightened around her wais**t. She heard the thump of Steve hitting the other car, and smashing the window of that one too.
The car roared off the road, and span in the air... it landed on it's roof, smashing it down, screeching then sliding as the car went down a bank, and into a river.
It felt like an age before Renna opened her eyes. She was winded badly, and breathing heavily.
She undid her seatbelt and climbed over the seat to the smashed and crumpled front. The car was half in the water and half out. Scared for her life, she climbed out, wondering what the hell she had done.
She had blood all over her white fur, and had cut her face open, and twis**ted her left leg. She nursed it and walked up the bank..
The other car was... It had span around, crushed into nothing. She limped towards the car, s**taring into it. A family of dogs sat inside the car, perfectly dead. And sitting on the bloody lap of a crushed puppy, maybe about 8 years old, sat the bulldog head of Steve.
Renna collapsed to the floor, crying her eyes out. She curled into a ball, screaming.
Which is why she only dealt in suicide now. Everything had to planned out, to the smalles**t detail. No more innocents.
For the longes**t time after killing Steve, did the puppy haunt her. When she went to sleep, she could see no more than the dead twis**ted body of the puppy, with Steve's mutilated shocked head sitting on his lap...
The closes**t she had ever been to suicide. It opens your eyes.
She recalled the puppy as she walked down to the table. In a way, it was how she possessed her gift.
Because now she simply pictured the puppy, the family that she had murdered, and then she posessed all the s**trength in the world to tear anyone to pieces. To make them believe how absolutely f**king awful they really were. Because that's exactly how she felt.
It went like so. She sat at the table, and she was given a photo, a name, and an address. Someone who had cheated on their wife, someone who owed money, killers, hippy boyfriends of daughters of rich businessmen, it didn't matter who. She was the voice of paranoia.
She looked s**traight into the face of the photo.
A familiar face s**tared s**traight back at her.
"I can't do this. Not him."
"I think, my dear..." Came the reply. "...that you don't have much of a choice."
Renna looked up from the photo. Not him. Not him.