Wire, that's what it is. Wire, padded with crumpled tinfoil and clay then smeared with craft glue. Then, the cured pelt is carefully stretched and held on with needles. Finally the semi circular plastic eyes were inserted into the vacuous holes. It was the neighbors cat but a scant few days prior. Now it sits drying on a messy kitchen table. Sitting a cross from it, with his chair dragged back far from the table, Elmore marveled at his work. Elm stared at the dead cat, one eye was slightly lower then the other, the head was sloped and lumpy in the wrong places. But to elm it was beautiful. It was his most ambitious project yet.

   He'd seen his neighbor burying the cat a couple nights before. But it took him a day to work up the courage to finally sneak over in the early morning and steal the body. Elms heart beat fast even now as he thought about the heist. If his father was ever home he's sure he would've been displeased, lucky, if you could call it that, his father worked in another city and simply paid Elms rent as well as a small monthly allowance.

   Tearing his eyes away from the un-cat, elm looked over to the counter where a clear plastic container liberally smeared with blood contained the grisly muscled internal remains of the cat. Above that, Precariously balanced on the rim of the container, the knife his father gave him on his 12th birthday. He walked over and picked it up looking at the dried cat blood on the mini bowie knife reminded him he'd definitely need to get it sharpened before he started his next project. The edge was never amazing on it, but last night proved he needed something sharper if the ragged state of the cats pelt was any indication.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  While washing his knife in the sink, using a scrub brush to get the blood out of the engraving of his name on the side of the handle, he heard his alarm go off up stairs. With a sinking feeling he looked out the window to see the first light of day brighten up the furthest parts of Cytokine city as it peaked over the nearby mountain. Drying his knife and placing it in the dish rack Elm reluctantly walked up the stairs to get out of his blood stained black shirt blue jeans and don a mostly clean but at least not bloodstained version of the same outfit.

   While yanking on an odd pair of socks Elm glanced at his collection, so far he had 3 un-squirrels, 2 un-pigeons, and an exceptional tattered un-rat. He kept the cleaned bones just off to the side in a small clear plastic container with several car fresheners both inside and outside the box. He wasn't sure why but he found the chemicaly cleaned bones smelled much worse the then the slight smell of death coming off his un-animal army. But he couldn't make himself throw away the bones, they were just too cool. Speaking of, Elm headed downstairs grabbing a garbage bag and some industrial strength acid, he wrapped the bag around the container of cat gristle, then brought the whole batch outside to his small back deck. He positions the box snugly between two bricks then slowly started pouring the acid, being careful not to splash the liquid or breath the fumes. He didn't need another awkward visit to the hospital. He quickly put the bottle away and put on his shoe as he went to catch the bus.