His Sweet Tooth

It took just three minutes to finally understand what he was actually seeing, while his trembling hands sought out the silky fur of Sir August. Nothing could ever prepare him for the results appearing bold and black on the white sheet. It should've been a dream, a very horrible dream, he would never agree to this. He knew he never signed up for this. It's a fake, right? Of course.....just a silly misunder– But it wasn't at all, for his signature stood out boldly and rather clumsily, against the dark red short dashes below his signature. Time became his enemy now, as the grandfather clock chimed in harmony with his racing heart. He couldn't get himself out of this now, the results stated it clearly the consequences if he didn't fall through. Most people would just agree to the terms of the contract, but those terms were no ordinary terms. He vowed to himself, that this would be the last time he ever dared to leave the house without his very close associate. Sighing, he rose from the leather sofa, and maneuvered his way around the kitchen island and set up the coffee machine. The silent whirring of the machine gave him a temporary calm from the storm raging in his mind. In less than 24 hours, he would meet his imminent death. Soft ticklish fur brought him out of despairing thoughts, as he blinked twice and carried August in his arms and buried his nose in the feline's white coat. "What did I do to deserve this, huh, Gus? Daddy just wants to be alone with you and his paintings, hm? That stupid human didn't seem to get that. If I find him, I'll chop him up to pieces for you, okay?" His one sided conversation received a soft purr from the cat. His face relaxed into a small smile as he passed by a wall decorated by a multicoloured collage of Sir August stretching his flexible spine just beside a mutilated corpse with its face frozen in fear and shock.