He

It was another day gone by with nothing exciting that happened, or even something he had heard about. He was lonely, sad, and couldn't figure out what to do with himself. He worked at a shoe repair shop in downtown London. Yes, he made fairly good money, but only enough for food and rent on his home. He had no children, wife, or friends and family. The one thing he did have though, was his cat. He loved his cat, and did he ever spoil it! It was a very greedy, very fat cat. It was rarely home, always out stalking and staring at various people on the street. All the neighborhood kids were terrified of it, they would scream and run whenever it had been spotted. It would always steal food from the local butcher's shop. The owner, Mr. Wilson, at first thought that it might be rats stealing his meat. He had put out traps trying to catch them, but never could. One day though, he saw the cat trying to pull a deer leg out of the back room of the shop. He quickly shooed it away, and threatened that if it ever came back it wouldn't be alive to steal anymore food. From that day on Mr. Wilson hated that cat, but so did everyone else. One night the cat was out again, looking for more free food. It was starting to get very late so its owner went out to look for it. Meanwhile the cat slipped into Mr. Wilson's butcher's shop. Mr. Wilson was finishing up in his shop when he heard a noise coming from the back room. He decided to go back and see what was going on. "Hello. Is anyone there?" He asked. He moved slowly now, unsure. He grabbed a butcher's knife off the table. It was hard for him to see in the dark. Once or twice he stumbled over something. He walked around the corner of the table, and instantly he jumped! There standing in the darkness was, nothing. He breathed in deeply, and started to walk back out of the room. He went to grab his coat and noticed he still had the butcher's knife in his hand. He turned around to go put it away when he saw it, that dreadful cat. It was stealing his meat again. He decided he was going to end that. "Now listen hear you! Drop that meat or you're dead!" Yelled Mr. Wilson. It looked up, but kept pulling on the meat as if it wasn't afraid of him even a little. "That's it!" Mr. Wilson screamed as he raised his arm. He brought it down as hard as he could aiming for its neck. But Mr. Wilson never connected with the cat. Next thing he knew he was on the floor with someone on top of him. "Don't touch my..." He began to say. And that was as far as he got, for out of terror Mr. Wilson brought the knife down on his head. Mr. Wilson had killed him, instantly. He somehow felt accomplished, like it was the best revenge he had ever gotten. He knew it was weird to not feel remorse for what he had done, but for some reason he just didn't. He looked up and saw the cat again. It had watched the whole thing unfold. It seemed to have an understanding of what had just happened. Now he was frantic. What would he do with the body? Then, all of a sudden, he knew. "You like meat?" asked Mr. Wilson. "Well I know just what to give you." He brought the body into the kitchen, where he started cutting it up just enough so it wasn't recognizable as a human body anymore. From that day on Mr. Wilson fed meat to that cat. He told people it was the rotten meat. Maybe... it was obviously very different.