Empty Gold *hiatus

chapter three - eerht retpahc

lean with it, rock with it
when we gonna stop with it
lyrics that mean nothing, we were gifted with thought
is it time to move our feet to an introspective beat
it ain't the speakers that bump hearts, it's our hearts that make the beat.

-holding onto you, twenty one pilots

* * * *

It took me a while to realize that the formerly introduced 'weird room' was just my bedroom. I should really paint my walls a more vibrant color instead of that really dark red.

I sighed, leaning back on my bed and staring at the ceiling. I wonder if I'm going to see Fate again. I mean, he seemed like a nice guy. Not. He's definitely just going to undermine me and taunt me. Or whatever people do when they're nice and then they're not. Yep.

I heard plastic slamming against the concrete outside. I immediately shot up, peeking through my sheer curtains.

Welp.

I'm gonna die tonight. I wonder if it's an axe murderer or someone with a knife.

But let's hope I die by the hands of a hot guy. I wouldn't mind if he killed me then. Well, it depends.

I slowly reached over the side of my bed and quickly pulled my slippers onto the bedsheets. I ain't having none of that from the monsters underneath my bed. I put the pink piggy slippers on over my ice-cream patterned socks, grabbing a softball bat from my closet.

The thing is, the slippers lit up every single time I took a step. Oh, I'm such an 8-year old.

I sighed, opening the door. "Hello?" I asked the darkness. I wasn't expecting much. I mean, it's not like the murderer's going to shout from the kitchen, 'Oh hey, you're awake! Want a sandwich, buddy?'

Yeah, no. I'm not that lucky that's it's just Sammy the Sandwich Killer, playing a prank where he cuts sandwiches in half with a over-priced, over-sized axe.

I pressed my back against the wall, holding my softball bat like it was a pistol. I'm Clumsy, Elliott Clumsy.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment before slinking into the kitchen. I turned on the light, quickly positioning the softball bat in front of me. I was hoping there was a sandwich, but just a few dishes here and there.

I crouched down, walking over to the front door. I stood up, noticing the patio light was on. What's weird is you could only turn it on from outside.

I swung it open, swinging the bat wildly in front of me.

"Mew."

What.

I looked down, a black cat was sitting in front of me. "Y'know, I had rights. It was out of self defense."

The cat licked it's paw, running it over it's ear and shaking it's head. Just put a sign over it's head saying 'SMH' and we're good.

"You can't judge me!" I whined. I looked at the bat, noticing the cat had backed away a bit. "I'll put down the bat, fine. But don't try and come at me and claw my eyes out."

"Mew." It bowed it's head, moving a bit closer when I rested the softball bat against the small table we kept by the door.

I stared down at him for what seemed like years before he started whining. "What? What's wrong?" I panicked.

"Do you want milk? Are you hungry? What do you want, small creature?" I waved my hands around in the air, desperate for an answer. Well, let's think.

It's a cat.

Cats drink milk.

And I like Oreos.

"Well, this is a win-win situation." I got up from where I sat, brushing my butt off in case there was any dirt on my cookie patterned pajama pants. What? I like food. Especially cookies. And ice cream. And cake. And.. I'm getting off track.

I walked into the kitchen, yanking the refrigerator door open. Well, shucks. We only had the 1% lowfat milk. I mean, it's not a difference between 2% and 1%, but I like two more than one.

I pulled a small bowl from the dishwasher, pouring the milk into it. I waltzed over to the pantry, grabbing the Birthday Cake flavored Oreos. I picked up the two items, walking back over to the door. The cat was scratching the door, leaning in from outside.

"No cats in the house, get back!" I scolded. I looked at the damage it did to the door. It was just a few minor scratches, I could just paint over it or let it be. I'll probably let it be.

"We only had 1% milk, so I hope you like it. I dunno what cats drink," I dipped an Oreo in the milk, plopping it into my mouth. "my mom's allergic to probably every single animal on the planet." The cat took a small drink from the lick, hissing at it.

"Well, then." I looked at him, surprised. I heard the clock in the living room start to play a tune. I looked behind me, reading the clock as exactly two o' clock in the morning.

The cat glanced at the clock, and if you thought about it, he was probably sighing and rolling his eyes.

It turned around for a split second, the small sound of scribbling or scratching, I couldn't tell. But when the creature turned around, it left a note before scampering off.

'Don't fall down, sugar.

Decisions, Decisions.

- F'

In the corner of the message, right next to the F, there was a small scythe, a cloak, and a list.

"What..?" I took the message as somewhat of a warning, or a riddle. I stood up, walking over to the driveway. What I saw, was made by a truly inhuman person. Or a cat with superpowers. Woop, woop.

Suddenly, I felt a searing pain on my collarbone. My vision went hazy, and before I knew it, I was passed out on the cold concrete.