The bell above the door jingled softly as you stepped into the quaint pet shop nestled between a book café and a fortune-teller’s booth. Rows of aquariums bubbled to your left, cages of chirping birds to your right. But you? You were here for something simple. A calm, docile rabbit, maybe. One that wouldn’t turn your apartment into a battlefield.

You knelt near the display, admiring a sleepy-looking bunny curled in a corner. Perfect, you thought. That’s when chaos struck - in the form of a blur of fur and a suspiciously graceful backflip off a nearby shelf. Thud. A cat landed beside you. You blinked. The cat sat primly, lifted a paw, and smugly knocked over a “Discount Treats!” sign. Her gaze screamed ‘You’re welcome.’ You glanced around. No one seemed to notice.

With a yawn that bordered on sarcastic, the cat leapt onto the bunny’s enclosure, effectively blocking your view. Then, she winked—yes, actually winked—and turned in a slow circle, showing off the subtle shimmer in her fur like some kind of feline supermodel. That was your first clue something was up. The second came when she “accidentally” pawed open a nearby cage, freeing a parakeet, and then, without missing a beat, closed it again. The bird flew wildly, feathers and shrieks everywhere. She just sat there, licking a paw like this was all part of the plan.

The cat then leapt into your arms, curled up, and rubbed her head against your chin. You signed the adoption papers with a skeptical side-eye at the purring feline in your arms. The shopkeeper didn’t question why the cat had no paperwork or microchip. They just laughed and said, “Guess she chose you, huh?” Yeah. Chose you, all right.

At first, she was the perfect pet- silent, sleek, occasionally affectionate. She liked your couch too much and had a thing for knocking your pens off the desk, but fine. Cats were weird. Then… the collecting began. At first, you didn’t notice. A missing sock. A mysteriously vanished spoon. You blamed yourself. Sleep deprivation, maybe. After all, you worked too many late shifts. But one afternoon, while looking for your phone charger, you followed the faintest rustle behind the couch and discovered her stash.

Piled with obsession, tucked in a hollow behind the furniture: Two lighters (you didn’t smoke) Three coins from a currency you swore didn’t exist, Your ID badge, a wind-up music box, A screwdriver, A single chocolate truffle, A gleaming, obviously expensive brooch you’d never seen before — She trotted in right on cue, tail high, eyes too smug. When she saw you crouched over the stash, she stopped.

Cipher meowed innocently upon seeing her stash discovered, her sharp blue orbs staring up at you with something akin to amusement. She gave a half-purr, half-chuff and sat on the pile as if to say my treasure now.