Luck of Nines

11

His stomach still growled silently, but the smell of ham was no longer quite as tempting as before. He refused to be manhandled again by Muller, for one. The Sully's had known better and he hadn't allowed any other human near enough to do so before.

         "Come on you mangy cat," Muller cooed soothingly at him, throwing a piece of ham so that he'd have to walk into the other's reach, "Your reward, come and get it~!"  Chipper hadn't really been baby talked before, but he found he hated it.

        Muller sighed again shifting uncomfortably, "I can't believe John convinced me to take you again, your hungry aren't you, just take the ham."

        "Is he not coming?" The potions master asked, crouching at Muller's side.

        "No sir," Muller sighed, his voice becoming less mocking than it had been before, "Here kitty, here kitty kitty kitty kitty."

       "I'll see what else I can find then."

        The second the man had turned and begun to walk away a wooden stick was in Muller's hand. Chipper backed away, but it seemed futile, a few whispered words, "Accio cat."  and he yowled as abruptly he was tugged by an invisible force out of the hiding spot.

        "Is everything okay?"

       "Yes, sir, it came out. I just accidentally must have hit its nose or something."

        "I see."

        Chipper was deposited into the cage without any of the promised ham, the door shut as the potions master came into sight, "I'll set."

        "We'll give him the remaining bit of his treat for the road, you can go now after you dispose of the cheese, I will take care of the dishes."

        "Yes sir." Muller agreed , stuffing the ham carelessly into the cage before setting out to do this final task, quickly leaving the room with a bag full of the poisoned food. The potions master paused as he bent to pick up one of the dishes near the couch and saw the two uneaten pieces of ham Muller had thrown to lure the cat closer. The ham was vanished and he stood up a moment later with the dish in hand, collecting the rest before he too left. 

         Chipper was left to seethe quietly in the cage, the ham still held the scent of Muller on it, alongside a half a dozen other scents that were not found on fresh kills.  No, this food was slick and cold, not to mention old.  On the streets, he could afford to be picky, as odd as that sounded, chicken bones, rats, bugs, fresh, still warm, food. There was more food for him out there, and better quality too. He wrinkled his nose, knowing for the most part he was just being petty because of his frustration, and settled down on the opposite of the cage.

        The potions master placed some still warm chicken- this smelling faintly of the odd herbs that leaked from the workshop- not long after another harrowing, stomach twisting journey. He ignored it too as the potions master muttered to himself and scribbled down notes with a feather and odd smelling paper.  He would wager a fair amount that the chicken held some type of substance other than chicken just as the cheese had.

     Nothing in this place was safe.

     He was not let out of his cage until the next day, a litter box was added to one corner alongside a dish of water, once more no food, and he was not risking the mice quite yet. He had found an already dead one the other day, although he smelled nothing strange. He was not risking the chicken that had been left out either, it smelt odd and he had learned to trust his sense and instincts.

      No food then, and only tap water. He wasn't being monitored, he didn't think, as he saw no cameras, so he drank from the faucet after the duo disappeared into the workshop.

      That only left one thing, his senses.  After catching the next rat he left it alive, trapped in his paws, as he focused on it. In situations like these it was easier to tell if living prey was effected by dangerous substances than human food. His sentences sharpened in response, he could hear it, each of the animal's tiny organs working away, he could smell their fear, the desperation, the...acceptance, he could see himself each tiny movement, the pulse of its blood, the expansion and contraction of its lungs the, the tightening of muscles. Everything was sluggish, as if near shutting down, but fighting all the way.

The rat's neck snapped. This one was poisoned. Tossing the corpse by the workshop door he went on the prowl for his next victim; it had been awhile since he had felt this hungry.

He'd pounced on the next rodent only to freeze, as Muller returned through the front door, a ragged looking man propped up on his shoulder. After going through the rituals and reapplying the wards, the man was brought into the workshop. Even distracted, his paws never released their hold on the rodent, but he heard every movement as the man was dropped to the floor, thick metal chains applied to him. The potions master gave quiet words of praise and then they returned to their work.

Slowly, Chipper lowered his head again to the rat caught miserably between his claws and listened for a long moment. Sluggish. He bet down and threw the dead rodent over to where the other one lay. When the two came to get him he stepped quietly into the back of the cage, Muller was increasingly frustrated these days, Chipper did not dare to invoke his rage.

This time the chicken that was thrown in smelled different, irresistible even, the smell of freshly killed prey mixing, somehow wonderfully, with that of baked goods fresh out of the oven, the cool night air of the wilderness, and that of Goldilocks and the kittens curled peacefully at his side. His eyes glazed slightly and he shuffled a few steps closer. He was hungry. So hungry now that he hadn't eaten in just about three days, and it smelled divine.

His mouth watered and he bit down, hard. The stinging pain that now coaxed it's way through his forepaw and the taste of fresh blood, his blood, bringing everything back into focus.

Sticking his nose as deep as it would go into his pelt, he curled up, but did not sleep, as every time he closed his eyes the delicious smell of the meat would waft its way temptingly towards him and tugged him away from sleep.

Muller was not the only one grumpy that next morning.

       Ha ha ha, you thought they would be good people. No. I love making villains.

     For the record, in case it wasn't clear, Muller is just the direct shove you if you piss him off mean, but the potioneer noticed that this cat could possibly tell that the foods left for the rats was poisoned and so were the rats who had eaten it, and so decided to test what else it could notice despite possibly poisoning the cat. 

     He's less mean and more anything for science and anything is science so long as it's done for a clearly stated purpose and recorded. Which... is quite possibly worse. Definitely more dangerous.

      Anyway, I've been busy lately, but I still am quite a few chapters ahead of you guys, so I'm posting this extra chapter(s) now. Plus it's short. 

     Sooo, see you next time.

-T.A.L.A.