Charon’s Ferry
Just a ball of fluff when they brought him home, with round amber eyes, all black except for a crooked white blaze, and energy! Climbing the curtains, hissing at his image in the mirror, they called him MonsterKitty, and laughed.
He knew they were laughing.
He bided his time.
Let them keep laughing.
They didn’t know his mission. How could they?
They would never understand.
His power would grow.
He would travel where they, with their queer clinging to linear time, to
three-dimensional space, could never go.
Even when their dead returned, they would never suspect,
nor understand what they had lost.
