“Stop it. Stop fucking looking at me like that,” he snapped. She said nothing, merely continuing to gaze at the cat in front of her. “All I am to you is a tragedy, right? So stop.”

The black tom turned to leave, his tail lashing. Before he managed to get very far, she spoke up, “You’re more than a tragedy, Tiny.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me? Rip my throat out? Disembowel me? Please, we both know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“Because you wouldn’t hurt your kittenhood best friend. You wouldn’t kill the only one who stuck by you.”

Scourge fell silent. How was he supposed to respond to that? He knew she was right. He glanced back at her, eyeing her warily. She still had that stupid collar on, and she was plump with food. He knew she had stayed as a house pet while he left, killing cats and ripping out dog teeth to put in his purple collar.

He didn’t like that she had stayed as a pampered house cat. She had said she’d stay by him, but she didn’t. She had broken her promise. He wasn’t even sure why he decided to see her again. He had promised himself he would never return to this neighborhood. Yet he did.

Scourge hated it. He hated himself. He hated others, too. How could he not? He had become a killer. Yes, he had proven to his siblings, Socks and Ruby, that he was strong, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hate himself for what he had done.

Still, he knew there was no turning back. How could he? He had already sealed his fate when he killed that cat. He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. She was still staring at him, a look he couldn’t decipher on her face.

“What?” he spat. His tail lashed once more as he glared at her.