maintain the fear

[Humphries]

Humphries sat quite pleasantly in the middle of Jack McCarthy 's bed. His tail curled tight around his body, helping make him look quite pleased with himself. An outrageously large bow in festive red and green had been tied around his neck, the size almost half the size of the creature's head. He adjusted himself ever so slightly, pawing the bed, shifting and looking around, not able to hide his disgust. Jack could have kept the room pristine and the cat still would have managed to look somewhat disgusted.

It had been a while since he'd had a direct confrontation with the young man, too long. Humphries believed he needed to show where he knew Jack would be regularly, otherwise the young man may start to lose his fear of him. Fear was ever so hard to keep going: it required so much effort.

Like managing to sneak into a bedroom, perch upon a bed, and wait patiently for the occupant to arrive. Humphries had, of course,made certain he wouldn't be waiting too long (though marking his territory had some appeal). He'd sent a message using a general staff account requesting that Jack head back to his room. Whether or not he'd listen was, admittedly, still somewhat up for debate, but Humphries was nothing if not patient.

He also started eying which sections of the room most needed a coating of cat urine, just in case Jack dawdled.

[Jack McCarthy]

So Erika Bellefonte wanted to have sex with him.

That was a thing he guessed.

He didn’t know if he should be amused or ever so slightly annoyed, honestly the sheer nerve of her after being very rude to young master Jack in a number of texts, when all he did question the validity of hiring a cat. (in his unique way admittedly) and what he did he receive in return? Sarcasm and abuse and quite frankly he was insulted by her flippant manner she dismissed Jack’s good natured concerns

But he always knew she had a thing for him. There was a clear sexual chemistry between them and honestly how could he blame her? After all he was a clearly devilishly handsome sex bomb on legs so who could blame her eyes from wandering over the merchandise? He naturally assumed that when she finally made her move she would be a lot more forward instead of sending him a strange and mysterious text where she anonymously asked him to go back to his room (Really Erika? Not particularly subtle is it?)

The thing of it was, that Jack was in fact a taken man these days so he would have to respectfully decline to offer for intercourse, Since Jack was a taken man now sure he would have to break her heart, but she’ll get over it….eventually.

So off he went to his room trying to think of a way she can break it gently to her without her weeping tears when he opened the door unable of the shock he was about to receive when he was about to open the door unaware of the shock he’s about to receive “Ok Erika let’s just get th-AHHHH!!” Jack said leaping about a foot in the air at the sight of his worse fear appearing in the place he least suspected it. It felt like his heart had just leaped out of his chest as he suffered a heart attack and a stroke at the exact same time “YOU’RE ON MY BED! HO- I JUST- I LOCKED TH-JUST… NO ….NO NO! THAT IS NOT A PLACE FOR CATS! THAT’S WHERE I SLEEP! WHERE  PEOPLE SLEEP! YOU GET A BASKET I GET A BED.THAT's HOW THIS WORKS YOU ARE FUCKING WITH THE LAWS OF NATURE BAD KITTY. SHOO GO ON SCAT!...Please?”

[Humphries]

The cat sat in judgment as Jack entered. He listened as the boy reacted as Humphries expected him to. Though even Humphries could not have envisioned a reaction quite this strong. Hearing those cries of terror made the cat purr and purr quite loudly. He shifted slightly, pawing at the bed. Then, as Jack's rant devolved into a "please" Humphries stretched, extending his claws and digging slightly into the bed. He stretched back up and looked directly at Jack.

The cat let out a meow then, making sure to drag it across his throat, thus making it reverberate and come across with that nice tremble to it. He twisted his tail slightly, figuring that Jack likely still had his phone on him. The message would be sent, along with an actual "meow" emanating from Jack's phone... one that sounded all too much like it belonged to the cat sitting on the bed.

greetings to MR MCCARTHY. much pleasing to be seeing you again. be telling, are you well-feeling?

Gah, how the Engrish made him feel less threatening...

[Jack McCarthy]

So this was pretty much Jack’s worse fear made flesh right here and there. True he more or less walked the halls with eyes on the back of his head for the swish of a tail or any sign of fur but he always went around with the unspoken belief that his room was a safe zone. That there was no way he could force himself inside his room. His sanctuary, his room was always secure and protected, if it isn’t a hackney enough reference The school was Freddy fazbear’s Pizza and his room was his control room away from creepy animatronics animals.

Evidently not anymore more

Jack openly winced when Humphries when he clawed the bed a little into his mattress and uttering that death meow “Great. So I need to burn my bed now, thanks that’s classy” Jack rolled his eyes because there was no desire for Jack to roll around in a breeding ground of cat germs, fleas and oh so much hair Fuck no, not today thank you kindly.

Jack just got over the sound of the cat when he heard a similar sound come from within his pocket quickly he went to take it out (Not daring to take his eyes off the cat) only to see that the same cat had sent him a text

…Despite the fact that he was at the end of the other side of the room…

..and he didn’t own a phone…

..and he had no opposable thumbs….

…and he was a fucking cat…

“Witchcraft…” Jack muttered awe struck before looking at the text

“No, I’m not well-feeling. Not well feeling at all, on a top twenty list of my current feelings well has not even broken into the top fifteen. In case you’re interested my in the top three feeling at the moment is scared, confused and “Ahhh!” Jack said wondering exactly how Humphries go into a room with a locked door. “Ok, you asked me what I wanted bye now! You can leave now…like right now. That is why you came here right I’m pretty sure if you go through with the collar thing I can sue your ass and I have no dead mice for you…you better hurry and get out. Erika is going to be pissed if she comes here and you kill her lady boner…unless you sent the text. If so I’m sorry but I don’t go that way…AT ALL

[Humphries]

Humphries was tempted to point out that his abilities were less witchcraft and more mutant powers and science, but he doubted that Jack would really understand the difference. It was somewhat surprising that the young man understood the basics of human interaction, let along something as advanced as "this is technology and what it can do." After all, wasn't the saying that any advanced enough technology just appeared like magic?

So yes, not well-feeling, and then some more ranting that Humphries only paid half-attention to. He nearly couldn't hear Jack over the sound of his own purring, which had actually ramped up a few notches as Jack deteriorated.

i am the one in charge here. staffing is duty of mine. do not worry; collars taking will time to do the arriving. more concerning about behavior of the present time should be having.

Humphries then pulled himself together, sitting with his rear pressed to the bed, his paws before him. His head swiveled up to look at him, and he bore an expression of feline sincerity that looked so very true that you couldn't mistake it for anything else. Jack might, but most standard humans certainly wouldn't.

[Jack McCarthy]

A cat who could send poorly grammerisd texts straight to his phone. He didn’t particularly care what the cat called it. That was black arts, that was voodoo. This cat was a master of the dark arts drinking a saucer of the blood of virgins and napping in the kitty box of the souls of his victims. He was evil of the highest kind that was the only logical explanation

…Either that or science…but devil magic was more in tune with his opinion of the cat…

“Did anyone ever tell you not to purr when someone is talking? Bad kitty! I’m explaining to you my inner most thoughts and shit. My inner turmoil and all you can do…is…do that. There’s a no purring rule in my room. In fact there’s a no cat rule in here. That’s rule number one, if I find it I’ll give it to you for you to look through” Jack spat out the words just tumbling out of his mouth as if they were all in a frantic race to get out of his mouth first. Well the purring did unnerve him a lot it made him think of the sound a lion made before they leap on their pray.

Despite his best intentions he looked at the text and couldn’t help but roll his eyes, he could spell the bullshit from here. He didn’t buy the whole collar bullshit, that couldn’t be a thing….right? And yeah that was rich. A cat caring about anything other then itself before looking up at Humphries his face might as well have written across it “I don’t buy it” True that Humphries was quite a cute cat and he used his charm well, but if there was one person that was immune to his kitty charms it was Jack, if a cat saved his entire family from a burning house he would still have to resist the temptation to kick it right where the sun doesn’t shine such was his hatred of cats.

“My behavior?! What’s wrong with my behavior?! I’m a god damn saint walking the fucking halls! I’m just a pleasure! You don’t have proof! You can’t prove anything! I defy you to produce one piece of evidence that I’ve done something wrong. Until then I’m innocent until proven guilty!” Jack shouted as he pointed at Humphries “Don’t give me that look! It’s not going to work, I see through you, I know your game! You may have tricked everyone into thinking your cute and innocent. You may have charmed the head mistress. But let me tell you something; I don’t trust you. I don’t buy the cute act because I know you live to create anarchy and pain.You don't fool me demon!

[Humphries]

Humphries simply purred louder as Jack insisted that cats shouldn't purr when someone was talking. The cat continued even as Jack insisted that Humphries was invading privacy or some such nonsense. The poor boy was making even less sense than normal, which just meant that Humphries was affecting him even more. The cat actually began moving up the bed, heading toward the pillows. He stopped just short of them, looking back to Jack as Jack continued.

Naturally Humphries no more bought Jack's proclamation of sainthood than the boy bought the cat's innocent act. The cat simply kept looking as Jack kept ranting about proof and what have you. As if proof was really all that necessary, especially when Humphries had at least one of the headmistresses on his side (and he'd win the other over as soon as he gathered evidence and accusations about various other students that weren't named Jack McCarthy).

The cat reached out and prodded at the pillow with a paw, then turned back to Jack. Humphries twisted slightly, letting the next message go.

things you doing trouble cat. JACK MCCARTHY should be worrying. cats see much, this cat seeing more. And Humphries punctuated his comment by reaching a paw out and placing it directly on the pillow.

[Jack McCarthy]

You know if Humphries was willing to meet him 50/50 maybe Jack wouldn’t consider the cat (Among other things) just a big old tool. He had calmly and nicely tried to ask the cat not the purr in a way that made that Jack want to just poop his entire pants full to the brim with poop. And the fact that his pleads for silence only caused him to purr louder maybe he should try reverse psychology again seeing as the cat seemed to do the exact opposite of what Jack wanted to happen.

Once again Jack heard a miniature purring coming out of his pockets (Learning to associate that sound with palpable dread) He picked up the phone and read the message.

His face went a little white at the implication that Humphries was watching him wherever he went. Staking him with the skill of a ninja, oh shit. How often is his every moment monitored by the cat. Was this the only time the Cat had broken in? Jack suddenly had visions of the cat sitting on his chest as he slept. Every day, every night just staring at him while he slept, never blinking, never looking away. Always staring…

Something in Jack’s mind snapped…

“Oh,Oh! Jack said pressing his hand against head as if something just occurred to him “How thoughtless of me. Where are my manners?! I never introduced you to Mildred have I. God how insensitive of me. You just hold tight there for a moment and I’ll go get her” Even a moron could tell the wheels were turning in Jack’s mind. His voice was a touch too eerily calm and his eyes were particularly wild an particularly crazy.” He held a shaking finger in the air in order to indicate how long he’ll be gone for before turning away and humming a cheery song as he left the room

…and he was still singing it when he reemerged with a happy (Yet slightly deranged)  smile

…and a large bat clutched in his hand

“Humpback this is Mildred. Mildred, Humpback why don’t you too get to know each other?”

[Humphries]

Over the years Humphries had learned to read students. They weren't nearly as unique and special as they liked to think they were. No, instead, they all had the same signs, the same little twitches, the same indicators that their emotions were about to take over. Humphries had long ago learned to read those signs, read them and be ready to instantly react. He'd lost count of the number of fireballs and lightning blasts that he'd dodged over the years.

So he certainly wasn't surprised when Jack finally snapped. The boy had been on the border since Humphries had arrived, and the cat had pushed things further by doing this. It was slightly surprising to watch the young man go for a bat. Humphries immediately tensed, readying to spring out of the way at the slightest hint that the young man would actually use it (something that Humphries didn't doubt).

it is pleasure to be meeting MELDREAD sometimes the typos and strange grammar worked in mysterious ways. I would not be recommending the hitting of the cat. this will be most badly for you: telling the headmistress I will be the done.

Though hopefully Humphries wouldn't actually have to dodge hits. He was already nervous, ready to bolt at the slightest movement or hint at action.

[Jack McCarthy]

Jack, wasn’t what you would call “A sane person” At the best of times but at this moment, his eyes twinkled with a special kind of lucid delight that was more then a little rare to find on the face of someone considered to be “Sane” but as Jack held the bat in his hands his gaze zeroed onto the “Beast” he couldn’t help to smile just a little enjoying the idea of making Humphries life more then a little painful. For a change. Finally the power was in HIS hands and ohhh was Jack enjoying that idea.

“Ohhhh, what’s-Whats wrong Kitty?” Jack said his bat shaking just a little in his hand rubbing his hand through his hair “You seem a little nervous. A little shaken, Yeahhhh it’s not nice being the one freaked out. IS IT?! Looks like the hunter had become the hunter-ded-ded” Jack paused for a moment clearly messing up his wording, not exactly getting the phrase across as well as he would like.

“Oh yeah? Oh yeah? You wouldn’t “recommending” huh?! Well I personally wouldn’t recommending doing a lot of things. Like putting your dick in a pencil sharpener. Trust me, if you’re ever curious. Just leave that alone, that’s one mystery that should never be solved. But the thing I would be most “Recommending” you not to do. Is come into MY ROOM. And touch MY shit with your dirty paws! And I would just love to see you dragged your mangled body to the heads.” Jack punctuated this with insane and paranoid sounding laughter

“So let’s start again shall we? You tell me why you’re here and then you get the FUCK off my bed? Is that an agreeable arrangement for you mister demon kitty cat?!”

[Humphries]

The boy did seem to be shaking now, which certainly meant that Humphries had done what he'd been there to do: he'd unnerved the young man. The boy did continue in a manner that would have been quite suitable for someone who was supposed to pick up an axe and begin hacking various campers or other individuals to pieces at the slightest provocation. At least McCarthy only had a baseball bat: it would be rather difficult for him to harm most people.

Not so much the cat. Though Humphries was tempted to query regarding the bit about the pencil sharpener. there was also the standard ranting regarding ownership of the room which was actually quite tiresome. Technically the room belonged to the school, which had hired Humphries to investigate the various students from time to time.

Humphries endured the laughter, looking up at Jack as he continued. When Jack got to the "start again," Humphries rose to all fours. he crunched his paws together and lifted his tail, adjusting his position. He rarely had to resort to these kind of measures, finding them to generally be beneath his stature, but in this particular case, he found it to be quite important. Humphries made certain to look up at Jack, wanting to make it perfectly clear that he was doing this motion very much on purpose. He then adjusted his position one more time, before kitty fecal matter began to appear from the back end.

to clarify: Humphries was very much pooping on Jack's bed.
On purpose.

[Jack McCarthy]

Jack felt good, Jack felt really good at the moment. This was more or less the reason he was obsessed with keeping a large baseball bat on his person and most commonly in his bedroom, because Jack was certainly not a man who was physically imposing, he’s never really been in a fight in his life certainly not one he has ever won and he had the utter body strength of…Well a small cat, but what he did have was a giant makeshift piece of hardened wood. That was very painful to be beaten across the face with (Not that Jack had ever hit someone with a bat but if the need ever called for it, he had the right to defend his pretty face right?)

To Jack it felt he was exorcising his demons standing over Humphries with his weapon of choice like this for the entirety of his life he had always felt that the feline race had the upper hand on him, but now..Now with a giant fucking bat clad in his hand HE was the fucking man. He was the one in control, he was all powerful and Humperies was just a tiny fluffy ball of her, that was puny in comparison to the might of Jack Mccarthy

Was he having a mental breakdown? Possibly but that was beside the point.

“Oh yeah, no smart comment from you is that? Where’s your little poorly grammerised text messages now. What’s the matter does the…you have your tongue? You know why that is? Because I’m a MAN! The most dangerous, deadly killer in the world. The ultimate predator. Able to shoot a lion between the eyes and extinct two types of species before wanking off the internet porn all in an hour. That’s-Wait, what are you doing?” Jack said lowering his bat a little bemused at the stance that Humperies was showing, he didn’t like Humperies doing something that he couldn’t predict, Oh God was he about to pounce? No that stance didn’t look like he was about to attack.

…but it seemed oddly familiar…

Then it hit Jack…

Jacks’ eyes practically bulged out his socket once he figured what was about to happen “You wouldn’t” he spoke in a hushed tone.

But he did and Jack could only watch in horror, in the purest form of karma Jack had become a victim of his own favourite punishment. When Jack first started in the school and he met someone he didn’t like he wanted to send them a message, that he wasn’t a man that needed to be fucked with. Like the don from the Godfather putting a horses head in a bed.

Jack didn’t have a horses head but he did have a talent for pooping on demand. He improvised.

And this cat DARED to steal Jack’s THING from him?! His thing. No one stole Jack’s things pooping on someone’s bed was…his THING

Jack closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath surprisingly inanimate before looking up at the cat “Poop on my bed?” Jack suddenly raised his bat over his head with a mean snarl on his face “I’LL POOP ON YOUR GRAVE!” and with that he brought it down again and again and again hopping that it hit Humperies “DIE! DIE! DIE!”

[Humphries]

Humphries scratched back with his back paws, making sure to shake them a bit, wanting to cover his little present as best as possible. The part of him that could still think intelligently did think that perhaps he had overdone it here. That didn't make him feel any less pleased for having done so, especially as he saw Jack standing there, apparently locked up in either pure fear or pure anger or some combination of them both.

Poop on his...

Still worth it. Humphries dodged the wild swings, glad that rage dimmed Jack's swings. Humphries was, after all, a cat, and a very smart one. So he made his first jump head straight for the pillow, hoping that Jack could pound that for a bit, then he leaped toward the desk, twisting as he went, sending a message that surely had to be garbled:

consequencing actions happening when behavior isn't the best as Humphries went to skitter across Jack's desk, hoping he could stay just ahead of the raging imbecile with the baseball bat.

[Jack McCarthy]

DIE! DIE ! DIE!” Jack screamed as he swung his bat in every possible direction hitting every thing there was to hit in his room destroying everything that wasn’t nailed down

Yeah he was just a little mad.

“STAY STILL SO I MIGHT CRUSH ME!”Jack cried, in a clear psychotic rage at this point, his face as red as tomato and his eyes bugging out of his socket such with the magnitude of his rage and his mood wasn’t helped when he started to speak again “Oh I agree!”

THUD!

“Were both clearly mature people and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t deal with this as adults!”

THUD!

“Maybe you and I got off to a rough start, maybe we should bury the hatchet. Yeah the hatchet RIGHT IN YOUR HEAD BUT I DON’T HAVE A HATCHETBUTIHAVEABATSODIEDIEDIEAHHHHHH”

No Jack was not in a conversing mood as he bashed the bat against the desk several times ruthlessly staking his pray

[Humphries]

Well, at least young McCarthy was consistent: Humphries had to give him that much. He consistently swung that bat with a fury generally reserved to wronged spouses or Latin girlfriends. Humphries didn't even seem to be the target of each swing: he barely had to dodge a few of them. As if he would actually hold still. he just flicked his tail and let out a growl, feeling his fur starting to stand on end.

THUD!

And Humphries had to scurry out of the way. He really should just leave the room, but that struck him as being contrary to his purpose, not to mention somewhat humiliating---

THUD!

That one nearly hit Humphries. The air from the swing ruffled his fur: he felt the movements on his whiskers. The cat let out another growl and then bunched himself up. Humphries quickly dove from the desk, instead dashing about, again remembering that the young McCarthy wasn't paying attention. So Humphries got a little closer to the young man's computer, figuring that he might as well go all out (or, failing the presence of the computer, something vaguely computer shaped and important would work. Perhaps a television or radio or phone).