He felt the feeling return in his limbs, one by one the numb tingling subsided and transformed into a hollow lull. Deep within his bones Ashton felt the ache, creak, and bend once the urge to move set in. Bright lights creeped between the folds of eyelids, shining past their target waking him up. With a jump, he sat upright in the bed breathing heavily from the comatose state that he was in. Irritated, but mostly disturbed, ate away at him as he mined eye crust out of his face. Spreading them wide, Ashton dusted the morning right off, drinking in the new world that lay around him. A room, unfamiliar in size and shape, yet cozy, he was surrounded by thick gray covers packed tightly around his legs.

The room was clean, neat, even decorated in the most stylish fashions. Meticulously, it seemed like the inhabitant took great pride in decor. The various anime posters, all equidistant from each other measured to perfection. The TV that was perfectly mounted in the center of all of them, just raised slightly enough that your neck would be at the -you guessed it- perfect angle. Everywhere he looked was an inferiority inducing stark contrast to his . Ashton shook his head in dismay, settling into a creeping panic. He was damn sure that this was purgatory, he was dead, and this perfect room was his eternal punishment. The possibilities were endless, and very quickly overwhelming his brain. Swiping at the cover he unbound his legs, very shakily trying to climb out. Ashton lurched forward, leaning all his weight onto his right arm. Pain shot up his arm, he winced reflexively grabbing it to inspect it. Thick gauze-like bandages were coiled around the arm preventing skin from touching skin. He was alive and cleaned up, Ashton let out a confused chuckle, should he be breathing easy right now?

“I see you’re awake now, Splendid !” a strange voice praised him, soothing to  the letter. Unknown noise coming from his blind spot, he did a fast spin around to try to catch the source. “You really had me worried there,” There it was again, less startling this time, but still creepy.

“Who are you?”, Ashton spat, knees still bent ready to do something, anything. Eye bouncing around the room from corner to corner .“What are you?” There was a faint thud behind Ashton on the bed, slowly he turned around foot by foot to face the hidden assailant. In an instant his eyes were locked with the most adorable cat ever. All fear had melted away when he was unfortunately absorbed by the huge yellow eyes. He smiled, got down on one knee, and he started to mimic cat sounds while attempting to pet it.

As a slightly chubby cat, the long black sleek body of its out maneuvered the over-loving hand of Ashton making its escape outside of his reach. Speckles of white tainted its under-belly, with pointed ears that stood upright. The relaxed gaze, as it avoided him pierced through his love, snapping him back to reality.

“What do you want, little one?”he asked in a high-pitched patronizing tone.

“Well you asked me what I was, so here I am !”, it replied with cheerful, sarcastic gusto. To Ashton however, surely he was hearing things, tripping if you will, if he thought that he could hear that cat talk to him. More sleep he thought, maybe he was still dreaming.

The cat licked its paw regaining eye contact immediately. “Patronize me again though, and I will scratch you.”

“That I did,” Ashton looked at it blankly, nothing could surprise him anymore. It was obvious to him that there are things he just doesn’t understand about his own world. On the second take he blinked profusely and looked at the cat again with such bewilderment, the cat raised a single eyebrow.

“Don’t be afraid now, you weren’t acting that way just a second ago.”, it spoke softly, but Ashton could feel the slight drips of playful arrogance. Astonished, he took quick notice of how its mouth didn’t move but the words flowed out almost seamlessly. By now Ashton had placed the square of his back firmly against the nightstand laser focused on each bounce of the slow moving feline. Hours seemed to have gone by as it landed directly between his legs looking up at him. Coiling itself into a little ball, purring gingerly, it rubbed prodding whiskers, and soft fur, up and down his leg.

While the comfort felt nice, Ashton was more concerned with finding a way out of this perfect prison. He shot multiple desperate glances to the door, raising each step high he gracefully stepped over the cat in an attempt to make his escape. The purring abruptly stopped, sleepily the cat rose up watching the goofiest attempt at escaping the room. Very much so annoyed, Ashton didn’t notice that the cat had already begun to move with him in stride, following each step.

This proved to be very fucking difficult to deal with for Ashton, he couldn’t help but almost tip over the bounding mess of tail and paw.

The cat cleared the danger area safely to avoid being trampled. “Aren’t you gonna pick me up??”, it huffed,  offended that it even had to say anything about it.

Ashton peeked over his shoulder, back at it.

“No,” as he tightly clutched the door beads of sweat fell down his face. He braced himself for the primordial anger he wrought upon himself, the wrath of an un-cuddled cat. The door was barely cracked as visions of freedom, returning to the dorm, filled his mind.

“Are you sure you want to leave without knowing the truth about how you survived?” Those words were full of intrigue for Ashton, he paused mid- door swing, but the temptation to step out was there. It beckoned him forward, the will to return to a normal life. What was normal for him anymore, after what he saw last night, hell, even in his dreams. Could he just ignore that blood boiling feeling of staring death in the face? Would he regret not taking the chance to learn about something he didn’t understand. What filled him with conflict was the cat had his attention, but he didn’t like it admitting that. It was a bitter taste of coffee that he had to swallow. Ashton let out a deep sigh, exhausted from the mental gymnastics he had to pull in order to justify closing the door.

He turned, “Alrighty kitty,” kneeling down to eye level with it. “ That was fucked up.” He outstretched his hand towards it. “Talk.”

The kitty looked at him, then back at his hand, “The name is not ‘kitty’, it’s Mr.Whiskers”. Ashton chuckled lightly, easing the tension in his back. Ignoring the bold statement by the telepathic cat, he rubbed the top of Whisker’s head pulling the fur, gently, back. Eyes rolled back as he let the blissfully experience take him. “That is the stuff, young man, that is the stuff indeed!”, Whiskers clutched his hand with his paw. “ Sit tight, the man who’s going to explain everything to you is cooking upstairs.”

Man? So he was saved, not kidnapped, but he wasn’t out of the hot seat yet he had the feeling more questions would be born just from the singular conversation with this mysterious man. Even still the stress knots faded away one by one, relaxing him even further than he thought a college student would be able to. But what kind of man would have a cat that talks, probably someone extraordinary he thought. More impressive than that is a man that could kill that monster from the other night. He continued to play with Whiskers and make small talk, then his free hand wandered over to his bandaged arm. The slightest touch caused him to wince, but Ashton didn’t mind because it was the pain that reminded him that he was still alive. The loud rumbling of his stomach also reminded him that he was hungry, he had hoped that the man was half as good of a cook as Soo.

Ashton waited, and waited, and waited, but when will the wait be over he wondered. Everytime he pestered Whiskers, the other worldly cat met him with annoyed responses that started to seem a little bit over rehearsed comments, side-eyes, and reassurances . Offended him quickly gave up on trying to speed up the process of meeting his saviour. Ashton felt himself getting older and older as time ticked by, he began to drift off into the lull of  sleep once again. Just as his vision crept shut from the plagues of boredom. The slit of the door flew open, creaking and aching endless as it swung. The warm familiar smell of microwaved pizza rolls wafted into the room from the crevice. 

Ashton’s stomach grumbled, ravenously empty, but the sheer thought of stuffing himself full with them caused him to salivate. He leapt from beneath the covers, over the side of the bed , lunging at the plate. Unfortunately for him it wasn’t just a levitating food plate spawned from this fever dream, but instead it was attached to a person. A man wearing a black turtle-neck, the back, and sides of his head were faded all the way around, leaving a curly mess at the top. They were baby locks just twisted, they bounced around as the man bounced back from the starving 18 year-old.

“Yooooooo?” he trailed off mid-sentence as his attention was refocused on keeping the hot plate of  junk food from falling onto him. The man chuckled nervously, “ Guess you’re up now!”, and smiled.