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The Tiger

Martin the Cat: Killer Kitty

The humans don’t realize what he is; it’s likely that they never will. Not until it’s too late at least. Only one person has come close to discovering the truth in all the years he’s been here, and he took care of them swiftly and easily. The rest of them are oblivious, thought that is likely a side effect of distraction and youth.
It is daytime now and the students stream by, colorful and bright enough to make his eyes narrow. Some glance over. Some smile. Some wander up to him and extend their hands, open invitation to play the part he forces himself to perform. Most of his kind would consider it humiliating, but he is well aware of the necessity for camouflage. Let him be adored and cooed at, so long as he is able to complete his goal.
The sun sinks slowly in the distance, lengthening shadows and bringing a chill to the air. The bricks keep their warmth for a while yet, and his cold body (temperature matching that of his heart) appreciates that bit of comfort. The traffic streaming past him slows and then stops all together, until it is only him left alone with a flickering lamp. A light wind blows through, the leaves rustling and the last of the warmth finally leaving the bricks.
The light from the nearby lamp blinks out and a figure approaches in the distance.
It’s time.
The light flickers back on, strobing shadows against the ground and buzzing through the air. The figure is a young student hauling a large book bag with earbuds jammed into their ears. They are alone, obviously, and wondrously oblivious.
He grins and prepares himself. The coos of students and the gentle stroking of their fingers fades to the back of his mind. He is no longer Martin, nor Campus, no anything resembling a mascot or tamed being. He is wild and he is dangerous, and the idea that a campus with him on it could ever be considered safest in the nation is ludicrous.
The student strides right past him, exhaustion plain, and with barely a sound, he leaps from the bushes and attacks.
That student will never be found, and tomorrow, none of the students or the faculty will notice the flaking bits of brown peppering his mouth and paws. After all, who would ever suspect the sweet house cat who lives outside Martin Hall?

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