New Orleans, 1930, Evening

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A door creaks open on the side of a building, leading to a dimly lit alleyway.

A figure pokes its head out cautiously, making sure the coast is clear.

Spotting no one, the man gives a satisfied grin and steps out into the alleyway, clutching a bloodstained knife.

His takes off his bloodstained coat, revealing a white shirt and a bowtie underneath.

Wiping the bloody knife on the sleeve of the coat, he then stuffed it into a garbage can, making sure it was out of sight.

Glancing around once more, the man then pulls a maroon handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping the blood spatter from his face and wiping the knife once more, before stuffing the maroon cloth into his back pocket.

Pulling his glasses from his shirt pocket, the man put them on, then turned to the door he walked out of, using his reflection in the glass window to fix his bowtie. He also ran his fingers through his brown hair, tidying it back into place.

With a satisfied chuckle, the man then concealed the knife in his shirt sleeve, turned away, and walked out of the alleyway, a smile on his face.

I wasn't always the Radio Demon's companion...

He didn't notice the bloody handkerchief fall out of his pocket and flutter to the ground of the alleyway.

A pair of orange eyes appear in the shadows, focused on the piece of fabric, pupils widened.

...But all stories start somewhere, right?

A young cat leaps out of the shadows, pouncing on the handkerchief, pinning it to the ground then biting it, treating the piece of fabric as if it were a piece of prey.

Gotcha!

Having solid black fur, the cat was barely visible in the evening light, with the exception of her orange eyes and the white spot on her forehead.

Tasting blood, the cat's stomach growled and her ears perked. Flicking her bobbed tail eagerly, she began licking the damp fabric.

Satisfied, she stood up, licking her lips.

Mmm, that was good...

The cat then looked in the direction the man had left in.

Maybe he has more? I'm still hungry...

She picked up the handkerchief and walked to the end of the alleyway, peeking around the corner of a brick building.

She spotted the tall man about a block away, walking down the sidewalk, humming a tune to himself.

Sniffing the air, she caught his scent, tainted with the smell of blood.

Predatory instincts kicking in, her stomach growled once again at the metallic scent, making her mouth water.

Killer or not....he has food....

The cat's ears perked, then she quickly scampered across the road, skidding to a stop, still carrying the handkerchief in her jaws.

She peeked around the corner once more, her orange eyes glued to the tall figure.

She continued this process a couple of times, following the man home.

By the time the man made it to his home, the young cat was tired, almost dragging her paws.

She watched him unlock the door and disappear inside, a light turning on, causing a glow to shine through the window.

Ears perking up, the black cat trotted forward, still carrying the maroon handkerchief. She made her way around to the side of the house and jumped into a window ledge.

Looking inside, her orange eyes widened as she gazed upon what looked like a broadcast studio, with the tall man she had been following sitting down in the chair in the center.

Whoa...

Spinning around, the man hit a few buttons, then tapped the microphone in front of him.

"Salutations! I'm Alastor, and it's good to be back on the air!" He said with a charming grin.

Alastor huh?...

The cat looked down at the bloody handkerchief she was still carrying, then looked back at Alastor.

So he's a killer and a radio host?...Interesting...

Still feeling tired from following him home, the black cat yawned, blinking sleepily.

She looked back at Alastor, watching as he continued his broadcast.

Maybe I'll just return this tomorrow...

Still keeping a hold on the maroon handkerchief, she leaped down from the window ledge, stretching and flexing her claws.

She wandered around to the alleyway beside his home, blinking sleepily.

Her ears perked as she spotted a discarded box laying on its side near a set of trash cans.

That looks cozy...

She dragged her paws over to the box, sniffing it briefly.

The young cat then stepped inside, curling up with the handkerchief.

I'll try and approach this...Alastor...tomorrow....

And with a final yawn... she fell asleep.

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Sorry this chapter is short! Don't worry they'll get longer and more interesting as the story progresses :D

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