Kitty Isaiah

The killer instinct comes in when you least expect it. One minute you’re enjoying the warmth of the sun on your coat, the next, you hear a foreign rustling behind you. You pause and dart your head around, in hopes to catch a glimpse of the unknown. The scan was quick, and right on top… right on top of the chair you are nonchalantly seated, is a small creature, what humans call, “a lizard.” This site isn’t uncommon around here: however, it is so close you can almost taste it. You slowly turn your body around to meet your swiveled head, and you wait…

The anticipation washes over you, as the creature lies on top of your throne, as it too bathes in the ray of light that was once yours. Now you are staring into the light and seeing the silhouette of this little beast, taking what is rightfully yours. You shake your tail in vexation; and thinking of what the texture of its skin would feel like clinched between your teeth , as punishment to this encroachment.

The lizard is completely oblivious to its surroundings, as if he is an apex predator that has been roaming this earth for millions of years. However, it doesn’t notice the true apex in the back drop, the perfect killing machine. Once in this state of trance, its survival rate plummets to nothing. For you have the target in sight.

Even though you are a decedent of your ancestors, a mere evolution of time. You and your fellow felines have wiped out more than 60 different species, four billion deaths a year. From the airborne threats that scream their war cries at dawn, to the nut gatherers that preform acrobatics in the branches, and the likes of what is on YOUR throne.

You were made for this, you think of how wondrous of a gift this would be for the overlords that give you shelter, and replenishes the intellectual nourishments. On second thought, perhaps this bounty shall be used as a warning, a symbol of your tyranny of this land.Your kingdom, your place of dwelling. It will state how invaders are treated that attempt to seek solace in your domain

You fight the sensation to pounce on this unmindful foe, for you are waiting on the perfect opportunity to strike, in one fair attack. The blow must be fatal, it needs to be swift and precise, no hesitation. Your claws stretch out, as if it feels what’s coming in a manner of moments.

As you prepare for the kill, your claw catches the thread of the fabric chair, as if you plucked a harp. The lizard pokes its head to the left and sees the threat.

The prey reluctantly locks eyes with the predator.

You sit perfectly still, like an inanimate object, a stone statue, artistically place for the lizard to gasp in awe. It gazes at you. Lost in the moment of fight or flight, perplexed if you are part of the environment, or something more sinister. Your tail draped over the chair, shallowly breathing , attempting not to make a sound, or any sudden movements.

In the final moments that feel like a lifetime, but in reality ware only a couple of seconds in time. You hope that this little creature, sought out peace with its past mistakes, crossed out his bucket list, forgiven those who wronged him, and told the ones it adored that they were loved. Lastly, you hope that he is praying to it’s God one last time, and telling its creator, “I am coming.”