Black Cat's Diaries Series: 1888

XI: Black Cat: In Hell

"A cat determined not to be found can fold itself up like a pocket handkerchief if it wants to."

-Dr. Louis J. Camuti

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November 1885:

Oxfordshire, England

Dear: Diary,

Many holidays had passed and I watched them go. My times are mostly spent on studying the business. Then learning about the information of my future partners susch as their pros and cons.

I watched as children enjoyed those holiday. Sometimes, I wished I was born in a different circumstances. I forced myself to give up my childhood not because I have to but I wanted to. No one forced me to live my current life; I choose to live in it.

-Black Cat

***

Oxford, Oxfordshire

[Oxford University]

After a casual conversation for an hour, we begun discussing about the business.

"You see, laudanum is a very popular in Edinburgh. It is affordable for most people, especially the lower class," I said and remembered the name of one of my partner, Lau.

Lau for an Opium Dens' King. What a clever nickname.

"Is that so?" Pipe said and smoked his pipe.

"As a chemist yourself in the University, I think you can make a better one. Even the best one in the market," I said, praising him and his pride.

Hurry it up old man I have other important things that I needed to do than this

I smiled trying to hide my impatience.

Tic! Toc! Tic!

"Oh Black Cat, you speak the greatest words," he said.

He continued clapping and beckoned me to drink the tea on the table.

"Sorry sir. I am like the wind, I don't like to leave any evidence that I was even here," I said looking at the teacup.

I'm not drinking it, it might have poison.

"It's an offense if you don't acknowledge the hospitality of your host," he said.

I knew he planned something. I thought so, poison.

"I understand, but the way English prepared their teas does not favor my taste," I said.

I'm more traditional when it comes to tea. I prefer the smell of the herbs alone. No milk. No sugar. Just like my life.

"Then I shall drink it instead of my master," Adrian interrupted.

He brought the teacup on his lips.

I am very scared of the effects of that poison to Adrian.

Instead, I observed the reactions of the man seated across me. I could see a guilt written across his face. As far as I know, Adrian never drunk a poison before and definitely never a food taster himself.

He is not human. But poison is lethal to a body.

"It was alright. It was a little bitter. I think it was missing a cube of sugar," Adrian dabbed his lips with his handkerchief.