Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ CAT ❯ Chapter 1

 

I know what I am. I am a killer. I have known this for a very long time now. There is no shame in it. You, as my Master, have no qualms with it, so why should I?

 

Currently, I am curled on Your bed. I open one eye as You pass by me and give me an affectionate pat on the head.

 

“Looks like you've had a rough night, Tiger,” You say over one shoulder while heading for the bathroom. “I think we all have.”

 

I stretch and roll back onto my stomach from my side. That is one of the things I like about You being my Master, You have always treated me well. I was never forced to play with ridiculous balls of string or wear those idiotic headband kitten ears. Oh no, for Your pet, You had leather ears made that fit over the human ones I show to the outside world, along with the sharp, finger armor claws. I suppose a dangerous man likes a dangerous pet. Not at all like the little Weiss kittens who only think they have sharp claws.

 

I leap lightly from the bed and pad silently to the bathroom door. You've graciously left it ajar for me. I push the door wider with my head, slinking slowly into the bathroom to watch You undress for Your shower. I enjoy looking at You in a natural state. (The temptation to shred every piece of clothing You own is nearly overwhelming at times. I restrain myself as that would not make You happy) I wander back out and leave You to Your shower.

 

It is slightly odd that You and I have never had a sexual relationship. But as You remind me so often, I am a pet. We each have other playmates for that.

 

I curl up on the bedroom rug to wait for You to finish. I am in a reflective mood today I suppose. The years since I became Your pet have seemed to slide through my claws like soft tissue. But they have been good years. Ones that I have been perfectly satisfied with. I wonder idly where I might have been if You hadn't made me your pet. In a straightjacket no doubt. Howling and insane for lack of something better to focus on.

 

You come out of the bathroom fully dressed but still toweling Your hair.

 

“Come on, Tiger. Take off the ears and claws. You know Crawford doesn't allow them at the dinner table,” You say.

 

I tug one leather ear from my own as I stand. “Whatever possessed you to name me Tiger all those years ago?”

 

“I thought that was obvious,” You say. “All the scars look like tiger stripes. Not to mention, no jungle cat was ever so vicious as you at killing.”

 

“I suppose that's true.”

 

A voice calls up the stairs. “Supper! Stop what ever disgusting and depraved thing the two of you are doing and come down here.”

 

We look at one another and shrug. “He's one to talk.”

 

“Knew I should have thrown that man through a wall years ago.”

 

“What's stopping you from doing it now?”

 

“His head is too hard for anything to faze it.”

 

“That's certainly true,” I say, tugging off the other leather ear. I leave the finger claws on, just to annoy Crawford. Not to mention it squicks Schuldig when I eat with them.