Bloody Thoughts - 1. Chapter 1

Sitting in front of his desk, computer playing his favored music, he stared at the large mirror that sat on one wall, showing him the reflection that he had known for hundreds of years.

He was still so young, but unmated. He was after all a half breed. And really, who wanted a half breed? But he was a royal half breed, on both sides of his blood.

His mother was a queen, the top cat, having clawed her way to the very top in the clan from being the youngest sibling to the one that could rule them all fairly. His father had been some human prince; the marriage had been a beneficial one for both kingdoms in a time when kingdoms had been small.

He was now dead and she with a new mate, a few concubines on the side, and a half dozen bastard children.

He was born exactly 9 months after their wedding. And had left the clan exactly 70 years after that. It was nearly another 370 years when he found himself willingly becoming a kept pet for a man who was starting to get on his nerves 60 years later. He had his masters and could be a University history teacher with tenor within a year if he wanted, or he could open his own restaurant or something with his minor in business management.

But he didn’t want to do those things yet. He wanted to get rid of the idiot that dared to try and touch him and live his life. His contract with the man was dieing anyways.

Looking up and at the mirror, he sighs softly and runs his fingers through the black braids that hung from his ponytail, the blood red bangs shifting slightly over his blue eyes. Focusing on said eyes, he stares at the green ring that told the entire world his status as a half breed, even though he had the rather pointed ears of every other Youkai out there….

Sighing once more, he pushed away from his desk and moved to the mirror, reaching up with a lightly clawed hand and drew it over the flat surface in front of him, his red tipped black furred tail swaying behind him. He didn’t know why he had agreed to be some humans kept pet; beyond being tired of scrimping and saving every fucking penny just to buy some food or to pay rent on time.

Growling, he turns away from the mirror, his jeans rasping just light enough to make his ears twitch. Moving to his desk, he picks up the special cell phone that his so called ‘master’ didn’t know about and dialed a well known and well loved number.

Hearing the sweet voice on the other end relaxed him immediately and allowed him to think more clearly.

“Whiskey…do you have room for me to stay at your place?” he asked quietly, tilting his head back as he leaned against the desk. The soft thunks of his braids hitting the desk top made him smile and shake his head just to hear the [i]rasp-rasp-rasp[/i] of hair dragging on wood.

“My room mate is moving out today actually,” Whiskey admitted in his smooth voice. It reminded the cat of a proper whiskey, one that had been aged for a good 10 years in a white oak barrel and cost a person their months pay just to get a small bottle of. It made him want a bottle.

He could have as many as he wanted.

He shoved the need aside and focused on what Whiskey was telling him.

“You can have the other room. I’ll turn the idiots room into a guest room once we bleach the walls down,” Whiskey says, his voice soothing the hurt and pain in Cherrys chest.

“Sounds good. When can I move?” Cherry asks, looking at the mirror again, blinking a few times at the dark look on his face.

“Tonight. Pack all your shit. I’ll borrow a truck from a friend. Plus your big ass truck, we’ll be able to move everything,” Whiskey replies, the sound of a door slamming after keys thunking on marble coming over the phone line.

“Deal,” Cherry replies, reaching out to pick up a paper weight of a giant cat. Soon, he was hanging up the phone after saying good bye to his friend with promises of seeing each other in a few hours.

Soon after that he was screaming and tossing the paperweight at the mirror, watching it burst and the glass tinkle to the floor.

Not long after that he was grabbing every bottle that he had hidden in the house and pouring them down the drain, a cigarette sitting in his mouth, sweet smoke curling around his head.

After finishing that, the sound of smashing bottles filled the alley outside as he dropped each one into the dumpster just across from one window.

A few hours after that, he was packed up into two trucks, heavy metal playing on his radio as he headed to his the start of a new life.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” he snorted before lighting up another cigarette and calculating what he could pawn off for cash until he got a job or two.

First thing that went was the mirror that seemed to have come back together from its shattered state.

Ah well. Such was the life of a blood neko prince who ran away from the idiocy of a clan.