Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

40 ~ Good Boy

Quackity pov - 

Tw:

My tears had stopped hours ago. All that's left of my body has been a husk. I realized, as I had died, that life had been better. Personally, I always considered that to be the truth. I always hoped that death would be that sweet release that I'd always wanted, and that people who were keeping me here were only doing it for their own selfish reasons. I never thought that would be true. Inside, I hoped, but at the same time on the outside I hoped too. I don't want to die, but at the same time, life is tormenting. It's beautiful, but utterly terrifying. That's just the way it has to be.

My hands quiver in my lap, sitting alone in the spare bedroom. Schlatt had the decency to put me in a private room, but not enough to furnish it more than the bare minimum. My bed lay awkwardly alone in the middle of the room. I hadn't sat in it, instead choosing the floor below my window. I lay my head against the cool brick, praying to the God that couldn't see me to let me go.

My eyes drift upward, eyeing the window only a couple of feet from the floor. I'd considered jumping from it, but found it only opened the bare amount. It was specifically child locked, and I have a suspicion I know why Schlatt did so. I have a questionable history with throwing myself out of windows. My eyes narrow. Does he think this puny window will stop my vicious rampage of self-destruction in the way of glass? I shake my head. No, no it will not. Not today, but maybe tomorrow.

I smile stupidly to myself, back pressed into the corner, eyes fixed on the closed door. I wonder if he had ever planned to lock me in here. Or had he changed for the better? Doubt it. My palms press against my eyes, rubbing and wiping my tears from my cheeks. No need to cry now. It will do nothing to help me.

The door makes a slow movement, as if pushed by the wind. I perk up curiously, eyes narrowing down at the wood. I expected Schlatt's unwanted company, or even just faulty hinges. Instead, in waltz a cat. That was the worst out of the many options. 

The cat looks at me, but instead of anger, shows curiosity. It struts, tail flicking irritably in my direction.

      "Hi Anubis," My voice cracks weakly, still trying to wipe at my hands. "Why aren't you with your dad right now?"

The cat blinks, sitting only a couple feet from me. 

I frown. "I know you can't understand me."

    "Mrow." He speaks as if uninterested. It was peculiar the way this cat was. 

      "Schlatt really likes you, huh?" I smile, turning my head to get a better look at the cat. He was pretty, I'd give him that. His hair was dark, and eyes a sleek glimmering green. They almost looked like a snake eye, the way they dilated and widened when spoken to. "I still don't understand why."

His eyes slowly narrow, glaring at me.

     "Sorry," I apologize, placing my hand out in his direction. "Didn't mean anything personal by it."

The cat's eyes loosen, but not by a lot. He still doesn't trust me, it seems. I sigh in response, shaking my head. "Estoy hablando con un maldito gato. ¿A qué viene mi vida?"

The cat looks up now, eyes instead widening once more. It meows again, this time more quiet. 

I smile. "Un gato mexicano, ya veo."

It opens its mouth, as if a human trying to speak. It's either panting or gagging, I could not decide. 

My smile falters and I frown. "Me pregunto por qué Schlatt aún me ama. Te tiene."

It's head turns to face the door, then back to me. "¿Alguna vez dejas de quejarte?"

The voice is quiet, almost a whisper. It comes from the animal, not from being spoken, but something deeper within.