#mc ts

It was another one of those gray days. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds, and it smelled like rain. Thunder rolled outside a rundown home. Well... It looked more like an old abandoned shack than a home. Not that the looks mattered, Ais just needed a place to stay and this was the only place he could really afford to live in.

None of the lights really worked. The one in his room was always flickering in and out, so he had to rely on candles for lighting when he needed it. The wooded floors were damp in some spots, and brittle in others. Plumbing hardly worked.. Shower was always cold, too.

Ais' home wasn't particularly the cleanest of homes. His living room only had one broken down dark brown couch and a rectangular coffee table that was nearly torn up and old. A few wood carvings of his sat atop it, though they weren't the kind that guests would find appealing if he were to get any. They were merely a representation of what he always saw and heard at a constant.

His floors were covered in clothes, blankets, and shavings of wood from his carvings, pushed aside into a corner or down a hole in the floor that led to the muddy ground underneath his home.

Ais' bedroom wasn't much better. There were stacks of books everywhere. He could hardly walk around without knocking a pile over, and anyone could see how he'd haphazardly done so a plethora of times. Now he was just tired of picking them back up, so he left them on the floor.

He had no frame for his bed, so it was just a mattress on the floor with a thin red blanket to keep him warm at night. It didn't do the best in winter so Ais got sick rather often if he didn't put on a jacket and thick pants when going to bed during the cold season.

There were many patches and holes in his house. The ceiling was broken up and he'd had to repair it too many times to count. There was now a leaky spot that he had to put a bucket under whenever it rained. Ais even had to pay attention to it or it would overflow, and then he'd have another mess to clean.

In the moment, he was preparing for such rainy days. He quietly walked to his dusty kitchen, opening up the bottom cabinet to grab the rusty bucket with a heavy sigh. There were many unopened cans of food that was years old in it, alongside moldy bread and other foods that were no longer edible.

Ais was long past due for a clean out..

He did his best to keep calm under the pressure the voices in his head put him under.

His lightly massaged his temple with his left hand, walking over to the leak spot to place the bucket underneath it.

Since running out of medication, everything had been exponentially worse for him. He'd been having those horrible hallucinations, and the voices in his head kept telling him to do terrible things...

Ais was so exhausted from it, and he could hardly get any sleep.

Setting the bucket under the leak spot, he returned to his rightful spot on the rundown couch, taking a fresh pack of cigarettes from the table that he'd gotten off some poor sod that challenged him outside a bar. He smacked it against his hands a good three of four times before opening it up and taking a cigarette from it.

He set the pack down back on the table and reached for the box of matches next to it, lighting one and bringing the flame to the cigarette waiting in his lips.

He shook out the flame, and disposed of the used match in a damp wooden crate full of past matches and cigarettes.

With a long drag, and a puff of smoke, Ais leaned back, closing his eyes.

Thunder rolled once more outside, and rain began to pour not long after.

The silence was long, though it felt as though a million voices were screaming at him. Ais almost swore he was hosting a party of some kind for strange cryptids and odd people looking to terrorize him and remind him of his troubling past.

His old gang. His old home... The former life of crime that he lived... Everything that he lost. Was it his fault? No... It was always someone else sabotaging him and betraying him!

He had done so much for those ungrateful bastards despite his ailments and they left him in the mud. They were worth nothing.. Not worth being part of his memories. Anything that reminded him of them, he would cast out.

Lightning struck not far outside the house.

Ais knew he was ill protected from the storm. There wasn't much he could do about it, though.

All he could do was finish out his cigarette and throw it away so he could get ready for his nap.

He had nothing better to do anyway.

When Ais stood, he heard scratching at the door. He paused, listening. Was it real or was it just part of auditory hallucinations?

The scratching came again, interrupting his contemplating, and this time it came with a loud yowl.

A cat... There was a cat outside his home.

Ais quickly went to the door, sliding it open to reveal a wet, beach sand colored cat with piercing golden eyes who immediately rushed inside his home without even looking his way.

A notable part of its look was the nearly black tip of its tail, akin to that of a lion.

It shook off, settling down on the hardwood floors comfortably, licking its muddied paws with vigor.

"Huh... Guess the storm scared you inside, huh, kitty?" Ais walked over, noting her black paw pads on her front that differed greatly from the pink hues of her back paw pads.

His hand reached out to the stray, and it stood quickly, stolling away from him faster than he could even react.

From how the cat walked, alongside its face and everything else about it, he could tell this skiddish feline was a girl.

She clearly had no interest in trying to make friends, as she was only seeking shelter from the storm.

The cat made herself comfortable atop his kitchen counter, her intelligent eyes scanning the room before landing back on him expectantly.

Ais wondered if he had any of the makeshift treats leftover from his old dog, Princess. A pitbull who had passed away just last year. She was all he had up until then...

Perhaps this cat would appreciate them just as much as Princess had. If they were still good...

With this thought, he walked into the kitchen, pulling a drawer open to reveal a bag full of dried up meat. The cat watched him with anticipation, seeing the food bag in his hand.

"You want this?" He inquired, pulling out a piece for her to try, "I can't guarantee it'll taste good, but it's something."

He must be the weirdest man alive to talk to a cat...

The cat in question seemed quite interested in the smell of the dried meat, mewling for Ais to bring it to her.

"Not gonna come get it?"

She only stared at him, giving him a much louder hardened meow. Of course she wouldn't. What did he take her for?

Ais could see the incredulous questioning in her face, so he took the hint and calmly walked over to her, but not too quickly as to not frighten her.

The cat sniffed at the dried meet in his hand, her dark pink nose twitching faintly, before politely taking it with a trill of thanks.

This must be the first meal she'd had in days. Ais could tell from how she relished in the meat's flavor and hard texture that made her face scrunch adorably as she chewed.

Should he name her...? No.. Not yet. He didn't know her well enough for that. He couldn't even be sure she'd still be here after his nap, or even if she'd come back at a later date.

Ais watched her for another moment, taking in her features. He could almost compare her to that of a small lion. She certainly had the attitude of a lion; waltzing on in as though she owned this rundown shack of a home.

He reached out, running his fingers under her cheek as she ate, earning a deep purr from his possible furry new friend. It seemed she didn't have a food aggression issue.

"Heh," He snickered, "must be used to being fed by locals if you're this friendly as a stray."

A yawn escaped Ais, and he stepped back from the cat, putting away the rest of the treats, "I'll leave the door cracked for you in case you feel like leaving," he spoke conversationally to the cat, walking over to the front door to slide it open big enough for her head to fit through.

With this task completed, Ais finally retired to his room, settling in his bed underneath the red covers. His eyes fluttered shut as sleep finally overtook him, his exhaustion becoming more eminent when he laid his head on a pillow.

Ais slept for at least six hours before waking up again. When he did, he sat up groggily to the sound of silence outdoors.

The rain had stopped.

When Ais stood from his bed, stretching out his stiffened bones, he left to find his living room and kitchen both absent.

The cat had taken her leave just as quickly as she came.

With a long, deep sigh, Ais muttered, "Fickle thing..."

He had no idea how his life was about to change...