Welcome to Confessions of a Supercilious Feline, otherwise known as a super morbid and angsty one-shot about a Warrior cat who get's kidnapped from the wild, from his home, from his Clan, and is placed in a home with a bunch of two-legs. Here are the inner workings of his thoughts.

Simply put.

Please Enjoy.

*~Confessions of Supercilious Feline~*

Day 30 of Captivity

Every single waking moment of my day is spent evading the up-walkers, listening to them cavil in their incoherent, strange language. Their slippery feline "Mr. Mittens" remains in self isolation, waiting for a moment of escape. How I loathe everything about them from their blundering movements to their pink, naked skin. The pelts that are plastered to their bodies come in every color and swish irritatingly with every motion down to the tiniest twitch. They molest my fur with their huge, clawless paws and coo at me in their bizarre tongue.

A full moon has been spent with the two-legs and my whole body is screaming for what lays beyond the transparent, cold entrances of their nest. How I long to feel the grass beneath my paws instead of the chilly, wooden ground of the up-walker den. My entire being yearns for the outside world, to hunt the scurrying creatures that reside in the brambles and to let the beautiful fragrance of the forest wash over my scent glands, bathing my ajar muzzle and nostrils with the aroma of my homeland. My ancestors were free, with their huge, powerful bodies, manes and spots, loud roars and throat-ripping snarls, so what has compelled the ignorant beings that hold me prisoner to keep me locked up inside of their perplexing den?

Day 45 of Captivity

The excuse for a dirt place the up-walkers have provided has to be some sort of impracticable hoax. They expect me to do my business in some sort of tiny, square container full of rocks? They've got bees in their brains. Especially the littlest two-leg. She finds it funny to yank me about and tug on my tail. She earned that quick nip to her flat face, it was self defense! I did not deserve to be locked in the strange holder made of shiny black twigs. The sticks are indestructible, I have already tried countless times to bite through the odd things. To make it worse they torment me with an elusive red dot. It zooms across the ground, up the unclimbable walls of the nest, and in anguish I can do nothing but watch as my mistreated and abused instincts take over, my legs whirling as if they have a mind of all their own. And just when my exhausted paws close over the agonizing crimson speck of torture, it flits away to appear on a nearby object. And my body succumbs, giving in to my urge to hunt and chase.

Day 53 of Captivity

Almost another full moon has passed since my untimely arrival and I think I am slowly loosing my mind. They scream my name from the floor below, the one phrase that I know in their atypical language. Mr. Mittens this. Mr. Mittens that. Mr. Mittens, Mr. Mittens, Mr. Mittens!

I can't stand it anymore. I have attempted escape many times, mewling at the doors before being thrown back, avoiding all two-leg contact trying to send them the message that I am unhappy. I loathe them down to every breath they steal from my precious, muddled air. Air that reeks of confinement and injustice, air that with every breath I take tastes like imprisonment and is leaves my body in the form of a dejected exhale. What is my dirty little secret? Little do they know that I am plotting their demise, lurking in the shadows and waiting longingly to sink my claws deep beneath the pink, outer layer of their furless pelts. To caterwaul the battle cry of my forebears. Hate isn't even a word that can begin to describe the dark feeling brewing in my stomach, churning inside of me and leaking out in demonic glares and diabolical hisses. I must find a way out of here.

Day 67 of Captivity

The morbid emotion in my gut is startling me, shaking me to the very core. I'm going insane. The sun is evasive, it cannot be spotted. I cry and wail up and down the hallways but they still do not release me. Instead the two-legs lock me in the black twig box in the cold section of the nest. It is so frigid that even my thick fur does not keep me warm. The gelid air leaks through my pelt and seeps into my bones. Every breath comes out in a white gust, dissolving and freezing as it is transformed into the cold. If I could see outside there would be white water on the ground. Leaf bare must have arrive sunrises ago.

In the mean time, all of my sanity is swiftly draining from body...

Day 78 of Captivity

I...wanna get...out...of...here...I...wanna to get...out of here...I wanna get out of here. I wanna get out of here...I've...I've gotta get out of here...

I've gotta get out of here. I've gotta get out of here I gotta get out of here I've gotta get out of here I've gotta get out of here I'vegottagetoutofhereI'vegottagetoutofhere out of here out of here gotta get out of here the fake mouse and real mouse the cat and the dot and the up-walkers gotta get out of here wanna get out of here get out of here out of here I'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE!

Day 99 of Captivity

Avoiding food. Up-walkers are gone. Left. I am behind. Purring. Shut in twig cage. Whiskers twitching in amusement. Dark amusement. Agony. Pain. So cold. I miss the little girl. I would let her pull on my tail. Tail. Pain. Agony. Torture. Dot. Red dot. Crimson dot. Chasing it. Hunting it. Prey. Food. Hungry. Starving. Waiting. Wondering. Lost. Left. Gone. They are gone. Cold section of nest. Hard gray floors. Separated by shut wooden entrance. How have I lasted? Lasted. No. Light. Cold. So cold. Must give in. Sleep. Sweet sleep. Elusive sleep. Sleep through the pain. Pain. Agony. Dot. Red dot. Crimson dot. Torture. Little two-leg. Miss her. Rough paws. Naked paws. No pelt. Flat faces. Purring at joke. Joke. Joke. Joke.

Sleep. Need sleep. Like food. Hungry. Prey. Need prey. Outside. Must. Get. Outside. Choppy. What. I can't even think. Up-walkers. I hate them. I want them. I need them.

Circle. This is a circle. Whiskers twitching. Can't escape. Never escape. Escape. Captive. Agony. Suffering. Torture. Red dot. Crimson dot.

Day 100 of Captivity

Circle. Circle. This is a circle. Endless circle of thoughts. Thoughts? Sleepy. Must sleep. Black spots. Like the red spot. Hate that. Love sleep. Love food. Love sleep. Closing eyes. Darkness. Exhaustion. Surrendering to sleep.

It feels good. Sleep feels good. Warmth. Reassurance. Peace. End. Breeze whispers through fur.

Light.

Day 1 of New Home

I love my mommy and daddy. They moved us into a new home. One with stairs! Daddy is going to teach me how to play baseball in our new yard. He says I can try out for the team in the spring with the other boys in my school.

I'm heading out to the garage right now. I think that is were Daddy put my glove. Eww. The what is that smell? It burns my nose. I think it's coming from the back of the garage. There's a cage there. Like and animal cage? Like in the zoo or for dogs and cats? Dogs! I want a dog. I love dogs. Maybe Mommy and Daddy will by me a puppy to play with in our new house!

What is that? Is that...that a...a cat?!

Screaming. Running. Mommy! Daddy! Crying. Dead cat. There is an ugly dead cat. Wailing. Crying. Screaming.