It wasn't sprites, it was lesbian love

Monty knew exactly what it was like to be torn apart limb from limb. Esther had done it when she turned him human; plucking out all his feathers, tearing his feet from his body until he emerged as something else. Something better, supposedly. It hadn’t felt better, when Esther nails had dug into his skin or when she had cut him wide open. 

He remembered the moment he first woke up on that table, smiling at her. He had been naive then. Monty liked to think that he wasn’t anymore. Not after everything that had happened with Edwin.

Edwin. He had been all Monty could think about back there in the forest, when Esther had made it clear that he had failed her. Monty had said his name over and over again in his head, like a mantra, when she had ripped him up all over again. 

It hurt more the second time around. Monty wasn’t sure whether he could attribute that to the human body being weak, or whether it was because this time he actually had something to lose. He pondered it for a moment before deciding that it didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered anymore, it seemed, after Esther had been dragged away by Lilith and Monty had finally found his freedom. Edwin and his friends were gone and Monty had nowhere to go and no one to rely on. He had no purpose in life. Perhaps that was just the irony of fate; he had gotten exactly what he wanted, only to find out it was all just meaningless. 

That was until he had found him. Monty had never liked cats for obvious reasons, and the way the Cat King had ruined his plans in the forest had made it so that Monty felt nothing but disdain for the man. If only he hadn’t showed up that night, everything could have turned out differently. 

Monty wasn’t sure whether the Cat King had sought him out or whether it was just a coincidence that he had stumbled upon the wounded bird on the beach. Maybe it was a mixture of both. 

The Cat King had picked him up and after thorough inspection decided to take him back to the cannery. To be eaten for sure, Monty had thought to himself as he looked around at a group of cats eyeing him hungrily. 

As it turned out though, the Cat King had other plans for him. Monty wasn’t sure if he should be grateful. This man had ruined his life before and for all Monty knew, he was about to ruin it again. But the alternative to this, whatever this was, was certain death. 

And so Monty didn’t even try to escape. Not when the Cat King started pulling at his feathers with what could only be described as claws. Not when Monty saw blood drip down his body and onto the floor. Not when the cats gathered around it to lick it up. At least it hurt less the third time.

Monty’s thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain in his chest. He gasped for air, sitting up on the floor and clutching his chest with his unmistakably human hand. He looked up at the Cat King, who was smirking down at him. 

“Welcome back,” the Cat King said. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your beauty sleep.” 

Monty just stared at him, not quite sure what else to do. A part of him wanted to scream, to spit in the Cat King’s face and tell him to fuck off. Another part desperately wanted to ask for help, to get down on his knees and beg for, well, something. Mercy perhaps, or deliverance. Monty figured that neither option would work out well for him. 

“You must be wondering why I brought you here,” the Cat King continued, not even stopping to give Monty a turn to speak. That man loves the sound of his own voice, Monty thought to himself. 

“You’re here because I am a noble and gracious Cat King and I forgive you for your trespasses against me,” he said in a sarcastic tone. He started laughing then, loud and ugly. The type of laugh you’d expect from someone who had just told a nasty joke at your expense. “Just kidding, that is not true. You’re here because you almost got my dear Edwin obliterated and you need to pay.” 

Monty frowned, bothered by his captor's accusation. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to Edwin. I tried to get him to leave and then you showed up.” 

The Cat King grimaced and clicked his tongue. “Don’t lie to me, little bird. I knew all about Esther’s plan then, and I remember it very well now.” 

Monty violently shook his head. It made him realise how stiff his neck was. “I’m telling the truth, I swear.” 

The Cat King faked a yawn. “Fine, whatever, you tried to stop Esther and you failed. Blah, blah, blah. You still have to pay.” 

“i don’t have any money,” Monty said, confused. 

The Cat King laughed again. “You really were born three weeks ago,weren’t you?” 

Monty felt heat rise to his cheeks, but he wasn’t sure why. It was just the way the Cat King spoke to him, like he was only a child, that made Monty feel overly conscious of himself. 

“I don’t want money,” the Cat King said. “I have no need for that. What I do need is magic from you.” 

“I don’t have any magic,” Monty said quickly. He instantly regretted it. What if the Cat King wouldn’t let him go and would just kill him instead? 

“Yes you do,” the Cat King explained. “When Esther turned you human and then turned you back into a crow, it left some residual magic inside of you. And I want to get it out of you.” 

“You have your own magic,” Monty said. “You don’t need Esther’s.” 

The Cat King chuckled. “I recently got into some trouble, which is none of your business by the way, and to get out of it I need something stronger than just my magic.” 

Monty wanted to ask what exactly the Cat King had gotten himself into, but decided against it. “Why did you turn me human again then? Why not just steal my magic and leave me as a crow?” 

“Because you need to give it to me,” the Cat King answered. “Out of your own free will. Or else the transfer won’t work.” 

Monty nodded like he understood. “And what if I don’t give it to you?” 

The Cat King shrugged. “Then you will become cat food.” 

“Alright then,” Monty decided. “I’ll give you whatever magic Esther left inside of me. I don’t want it anyway.” 

The Cat King grinned a little bit too wide. It reminded Monty of the cat from Alice in Wonderland. Niko had shown the film to him, when she was still alive. It sent a chill down Monty’s spine. "Fine. Let’s get started then.” 

Monty didn’t know what he expected, but it most certainly didn’t involve being tied down to a table while the Cat King sharpened a knife with his claws. 

“This will hurt,” the Cat King said, pointing the knife at Monty’s chest. “But the magic will prevent you from dying in the process. Do you understand?” 

Monty swallowed and nodded, scared to ask what exactly that meant. 

He would learn soon enough, when the knife cut through skin and then muscle. It somehow felt worse than being torn apart. It made Monty screw his eyes shut and scream in pain. If the Cat King had any reaction to Monty’s agony, he didn’t show it in sound or movement. 

As the knife dug through his flesh, Monty felt like he was going to die. The Cat King had lied and he was going to die, right here, right now. He pondered, for the first time in his two different lives, what would happen if he died. Would he become a ghost? And if he did, would Edwin want to see him again? The thought of finding Edwin and being welcomed back into his group of friends sooted Monty. For just a moment, dying didn’t seem so bad. He waited patiently for the pain to stop, for the lights to go out.

But they didn’t. The pain didn’t seize, his consciousness didn’t fade. He stayed right where he was, just as he was. It took him a moment to realise that the Cat King had spoken the truth. A bit of hope sparked inside of his bleeding chest. Maybe everything would turn out fine. It was then that Monty dared to open his eyes. 

He looked down at his chest and immediately wanted to throw up. His torso was sliced open from his throat to his stomach, with flaps of skin folded neatly to the side. It was like he was a corpse on a cadaver tray, cut open to reveal the cause of death. 

If he looked carefully, he could distinguish some of the organs inside of him amongst the bloody mess. He slowly looked up at the Cat King, who seemed utterly unfazed and raised one of his eyebrows at Monty. 

Then, in a swift, graceful motion, he stuck his hand inside Monty’s chest cavity. Monty screamed, loud. Edwin had told him Cat scratches are like poison to ghosts and Monty wondered if perhaps they were like poison to familiars too. He felt like a thousand knives were stuck into his body, one by one, as the Cat King’s claws dug through his organs to eventually find Monty’s heart. 

Monty screamed, utterly horrified, when the Cat King actually pulled the heart out and they both watched it slowly stop beating. Monty wanted to scream at him to stop, to put it back right now! But the only sound that came out of his throat was a coarse whine. 

The Cat King sighed and rolled his eyes, using his other hand to hold up a piece of paper. It had words written on it in a language Monty didn’t understand. “Read it,” the Cat King said. 

Not wanting to make his own situation worse, Monty used what little voice he had left to read the words out loud, to the best of his abilities. He must have done something right, because the heart started to glow a bright crimson. It looked unnatural, like the exit sign in a movie theatre. Monty watched as the glow eventually faded and looked up at the Cat King, expectantly. 

The Cat King, however, said nothing. He silently put the heart back into Monty’s chest. It was a feeling that filled Monty both with immense agony and utter relief. It was over, Monty thought. Was it over? 

He watched himself get sewn back up, his eyes following the needle as it went in and out of his skin. He tried to count the stitches. Surprisingly, being put back together didn’t hurt as much as being torn apart. It was more like a dull ache, the kind you feel when you press on an old bruise. It was almost nice, after so many times of being ripped open. The absurdity of it made Monty laugh. 

The Cat King looked at him strangely, like he had done something wrong, but Monty didn’t care. He laughed and laughed, until he eventually passed out on the table. 

He was woken up a few hours later by a kitten licking his face. His body ached as he sat up. He spotted the Cat King a few feet away, walking in Monty’s direction. 

“Finally,” the Cat King said. “I was starting to wonder if you’d never wake up.” 

“Did it work?” Monty asked. “Is it over now?” 

The Cat King waited a moment to speak. “Yes, it’s over. You’re free to go.” 

Monty blinked at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. 

“Go!” the Cat King demanded. “I don’t need you anymore.” 

Monty got to his feet as quickly as he could, which was not very fast in his condition. He stumbled towards the exit of the cannery. Before he made his way out, he turned to say something. If only he actually knew what to say.