Chapter Text
“Mister, can I please go home? I miss my mother.” You said, sitting on the floor in front of him. A black hat with soft kitten ears sewn on drooped over your small head, the positioning of the ears covering your own human ones. There were three snaps to prevent it from falling off.
“Mein Kätzchen, you don’t have a mother, have you forgotten? I found you off of the streets.” Luther, your cryptid captor said. Although his face was a little creepy (and especially unnerving to a young child like you), his tone was patient and monotone. Looking down at your teary eyes, he sighed inaudibly, standing up and adjusting the sleeves of his pants before crouching down, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe your eyes. “Your tears are messing up the whiskers I drew for you, perhaps I should ask Randal to stop by the store to get some waterproof eyeliner after he comes home from school. Hmm, yes, I’ll allow him to bring Sebastian with him if they have been good boys. Just like Sebastian, you will be allowed to go back outside too.” He said, mostly talking to himself until he realized you were still listening to him.
For the past three days, this strange man has been trying to convince you that you are a ‘kitten-person’. He would make you wear a hat all day, going so far as drawing itchy fake whiskers and eyelashes onto your sensitive skin. Luther was the embodiment of everything your mother and teachers would tell you to avoid when lost or alone, and you know that now. Yet when he found you three days ago outside in the rainy night and all alone, he was the exact opposite to you: a savior of some sorts.
“Kätzchen, would you like some warm milk?” Luther’s voice snapped you out of your young and regretful thoughts. He carefully pocketed the stained handkerchief, picking you up with his long and slender fingers. The clinking sound of his many rings interrupted your train of thinking, such high-pitched sounds being overstimulating to your young ears. The sound and the fact that you had been forced to drink milk as your drinks and meals for the past three days made you mad, and you expressed your built-up frustration in the only way you knew how.
“I don’t wanna drink milk again! It’s yucky!” You sobbed out. Not even your mother made you eat like this! Yet Luther paid no mind once you started crying for her, and if he truly did, he didn’t acknowledge it; he knew what he was getting into when he decided to bring you into his home as a new pet. Despite your pathetic struggles to peel his fingers away with your small fingers, he held you calmly, walking towards the kitchen with you in his arms.
The bright yellow lights greeted the two of you as you entered the kitchen, making you squint your tearful eyes. He hummed in response to your whines and shouts, heating up some milk and pouring it into a bottle. “Since you’re just a young kitten, you get a bottle ♥. Ah, I miss the days of Randal’s childhood.” He cooed, pushing the nib to your pouting lips.
Promptly, you moved your head away, closing your mouth shut. “I’m not a baby! I can drink from cups like my friends!” How dare this mean, mean man treat you like a baby! Your mother (very proudly) said you were able to drink from cups on your 3rd birthday, and that was last year! He sighed, audibly this time. With a gentle hum, his flat lips twitched upwards.
“Someone’s getting cranky, aren’t they? Don’t worry, you will have a nap after finishing your milk. My sweet kitty, you will feel much happier once your belly is full and you are well-rested.” He held your head gently and forced the nib into your mouth, squeezing the bottle to start the slow stream of milk. Your instincts had halted your sobs to prevent yourself from choking on the milk. His squeezing made you suck on the bottle as warm milk dribbled down your face, crying softly as you did so. Luther cooed again, dapping at your wet lips and chin with a napkin while you drank. It was warm, but it wasn’t at all comforting, and it certainly didn’t taste good when you’ve had it multiple times already in just one day. And to top it off, the milk he would give you before naptime always had a funny taste. He patted your back once you finished the milk in a similar way one would burp an infant. Despite you not being a baby, he seemed to treat you like one.
It wasn’t long before you felt tired. Your eyelids began to feel heavy, and the big eyes that were just days ago filled with child-like curiosity of the big world had already been replaced with fear and uncertainty as you yawned. Luther quietly chuckled, his facial expressions barely moving as he held you against his chest, carrying you down the strange hallways to his room. Ah… There it was, the little bed you had been forced to sleep in for the past few days that was laid by his own normal one in the dim room. Back at home you had your own bedroom with cool books and toys. This was all too scary and unfamiliar. There was no night light, no fun patterned blankets, and worst of all, no mother to read you your bedtime stories. All it was to you was a strange room that you and the evil man slept in. You sniffled, crying into his shoulder, the feeling of being homesick taking over your small heart.
“I wanna go home! Please, mister!” You pleaded to the man, pulling at his sleeves. “You are home, my sweet little kätzchen ♥ do not cry, this will feel like home in no time.” He kissed your sweaty forehead and ignored your cries, bending down to put your small body onto the bed. His gentle slender fingers tucked you in, pulling the covers up to your chest.
“Ah, how could I have forgotten? My apologies, this is your new toy, her name is Helga.” Luther pulled out a plush doll from underneath his bed and placed it under the covers next to your body, patting her head and then yours. “I read in a book that little kittens like you need toys to develop, so Randal graciously gave up one of his dolls for you. How about we thank him later with a hug?” He suggested while unbuttoning the snaps on your hat and setting it beside the bed. The doll was gaudy, just like everything else in this house, but you were too tired to care. As you began to drift off, you heard his voice one last time while the world around you faded in front of your closing eyes,
“You’ve been having such a hard time adjusting to your new life, my poor kätzchen. Don't be scared, I'll be sure to train you well once you're settled into the house.”