West set the last box down in the bedroom of his new home - a two-story house in the center of Sycamore Lane.

He had seen it listed the month prior and bought it immediately. It was a steal. The price was considerably lower than market value and the miracle of it was that West had seen this exact house listed half a year ago. He hadn't moved fast enough then and missed out. This time around he didn't make the same mistake. It had only taken a matter of weeks, and here he was. It was meant to be, he thought as he spread the bedroom curtains wide open.

This was West's favorite time of day. The sun was starting to set, which cast an amber hue across the swaying treetops that lined his backyard and that of his neighbor's. He looked down observing the angelic ceramic statues that protruded from his new garden, clearly left behind by the former owners. They weren't exactly West's style, but they embodied a certain homey, small town quality that he found charming. So, he had decided to leave them.

Just as he was about to turn towards the door and head back downstairs, a little boy caught his attention from outside. He was playing in the backyard next door. Must be the neighbor's son, he thought. The little boy, who was around six or seven years old by West's estimation, appeared to be playing with an animal. West leaned closer to the window and strained his eyes to see what it was. The boy was standing over it, his legs spread apart like his arms, and after a moment a small, blurry black figure bolted away. It stopped to check if the boy followed; it was a cat. It's coat was mostly black with a few white markings, and West remembered that this breed was called a Tuxedo. He continued to watch as the boy ran after it. When the cat dodged left, the boy dashed left, and when the cat circled back so did he. It looked like quite a game, and the smile on the boys face threatened to get bigger the more fun he had. Suddenly, the cat stopped, turned back to face the boy, and hissed, rising it's fur and showing its teeth. West was suddenly with unease, and so he kept watching.

The boy dropped to his knees in a sort of twist to redirect his posture. By doing so his body blocked West's view of the Tuxedo cat. For a moment, the boy remained deathly still then once again the cat bolted away.

His stomach grumbled and West almost left the bedroom right then to start dinner when he noticed the cat slow down then lie on the ground, maybe it was crouching. However West got the distinct feeling that something was wrong, but then the little boy picked up the cat in his arms and brought him inside, petting it along the way. Although, he couldn't forget about the cat being visibly pissed. It probably didn't like the way the child was playing with it.

Or, perhaps he was being a bit too biased on the kid since West couldn't stand them, especially rowdy boys. He could only imagine what it'd be like if he wad to take care of children, and he never liked it. So as he crossed through his new bedroom and down the stairs, he hoped to himself that he wouldn't have to deal with the neighborhood children, especially that one for as long as he lived here.

The following evening, West arrived home a little after 9:00 pm. One of his reasons for moving to this neighborhood was to be closer to the office and to eliminate a long commute, however there wasn't much that could alleviate the long hours of being a paralegal. He was exhausted and grumpy. He rested his briefcase on the kitchen table, which was another relic abandoned by the previous owners of the house, and fumbled through the refrigerator for a beer. As he stood over the sink and cracked the bottle open, he absentmindedly glanced through the window. He could see all the way into his neighbor's living room. At the dining room table, West observed, the little boy had his face down. His mother and father stood over him wearing sympathetic, but hard stern expressions on their faces. Good, West thought. Assuming he was right, he hoped the boy was being punished for tormenting that poor cat.

West lifted open the kitchen window intending to let in a breeze, but realized soon after that, though faint, he could hear pieces of what the parents were saying through the open window.

"Look sport, we're real sorry about the cat, okay?" the father said, "but you know what happens when you do that. You shouldn't have hurt him."

That seemed odd to West. If that were his kid, if he ever did want any in his life, they wouldn't be getting an apology, but only a lecture. But he supposed that every family is different when it came to parenting. As he leaned closer trying to make out more of what they were saying, his heart jumped a step back like he did when something large landed on the windowsill right in front of his face. It was another cat. It tilted its head at him, meowed, then went about its way. He had thought it was the neighbor's, but its coat was all white. He laughed at himself, then kicked back on the coach with his beer.

He brought his legs up on the table, then a knock came at his front door. West rolled his eyes, groaned, and waited if there would be a second knock. To his irritation, there was. Quickly he made his way down the hall and opened the door, but not before slapping his cheeks a few times to make sure he didn't look pissed. On the other side stood the mother and father. To West they looked bashful and, because of their half-smiles and fidgeting fingers, slightly worried. 

"Hi," West greeted. The mother glanced over at the father, prodding him to begin speaking.

"Have you seen a cat?" he asked.

"A white one?" the wife added. 

"Yeah, I did, just outside my kitchen window," said West. He raised a brow. "Was it yours?"

"Yes, it is," the man answered.

West stepped out and led them and around the side of his house. 

"Sorry, where are our manners. I'm George," the man said, "and this is my wife, Haley." She gave a smile and nod.

"I'm West."

"Where's East?" Haley joked. The couple chuckled, but West gave a polite laugh and rolled his eyes. If he had a penny for every time he heard that joke, he might've gotten the house earlier. "Welcome to the neighborhood."

When they reached the backyard, West caught the cat crouching beside one of the ceramic garden statues. He walked to it slowly, expecting the cat to scurry away if he had gotten too close too fast, but he was surprised that it walked to him halfway through and jumped on his shoulder. 

"You must be cat people," West commented walking back to them, "this is the second one I've seen that belonged to you."

"This is a new cat in fact. He's a rescue," George said. "We picked him up this morning as a present for our son, Bobby."

"So how many do you have?" asked West, taking the cat off his shoulders and handing it to Haley.

"Just this one, actually," she answered.

The piqued West's curiosity. "What happened to the other one? I saw your son playing with a different one not too long ago."

Haley took a breath. "He disappeared. Our son, Bobby, was so torn up about it that we rushed out first thing this morning to get him a replacement. It must've run away." Then she wrapped the cat up in her arms and thanked West. 

Haley started walking back home, but George took a step closer and shook West's hand. "Thank you, West. To show our gratitude, would you maybe like to join us for dinner tomorrow night? It's the least we could do, Lord knows Bobby would've been very depressed that his new pet ran away so quickly." 

A bizarre feeling of trepidation filled West as he considered the invitation, yet he smiled and said, "I'd love to."

Haley was waiting for her husband, and when George reached her and walked back to their house parting ways, West distinctly heard the cat hiss. When he glanced back over his shoulder to see why, they were already gone.

The following night, West made a great effort to leave work on time. He arrived home at 7:30 pm just as the sun was setting below in the horizon. In his bedroom, he quickly changed out of his suit and tie and into blue jeans and a black shirt, glancing out the window as he did so. There, in the neighboring back yard, was the little Bobby. He was running around. 

Maybe the boy isn't so bad after all, thought West as he pulled up his pants. All of a sudden, the white cat from yesterday darted across the yard just in time to escape Bobby's knees, much like the Tuxedo one did before. West's eyes widened and warmth left his body when he saw it for what it really was. The kid hadn't been dropping to his knees in play, to try and block the cat from running a certain direction, but was rather trying to fall on the cat. What he saw next was horrendous. The boy chased the cat in the same manner he had been then he hopped and dropped down his knees hard, this time successfully landing on the cat. West gasped and covered his mouth when he got up to his feet. The cat lied limp and twitching on the ground, it's upper back flatter than the rest of its body. Again, the boy dropped. The cat jerked up as if it was shocked by a defibrillator. Blood began to seep into the green grass and turned it dark red, but it was still twitching. For the third time, Bobby stood above the cat.

West, not knowing what to do, feared the worst. The cat was alive, but barely. He could see it struggling to even lay still, trying to claw on the ground to crawl away from Bobby. Should he scream at the kid, telling him to stop? Once again, the he prepared to drop. To West's horror, the boy hopped up again, higher. His knees fell down and hit with a much greater force than before. One knee landed on the cat's back while the other landed on its head, a burst of red shooting from its mouth. West felt something go up his throat, but swallowed it back down as he awaited the outcome, but he already knew. The boy remained motionless, and seconds later even more blood began to seep from beneath the cat. It was dead.

The boy stood, revealing the crushed, almost completely flat head of the cat. His left knee was painted with blood, complimented with bits of cat brain and whiskers.

By the time West was walking over to join his neighbors for dinner he was thoroughly horrified. What was he even doing now? He struggled to keep his breath in check and his toes curled. He had never saw something like that in his life, let alone even the thought of it. He couldn't believe it. He debated on whether or not to tell the parents. They should probably stop bringing pets home to their son, he thought to himself. He decided against saying anything. Despite the evil he just witnessed, he figured it wasn't his place as he knocked on their front door. The whole family greeted him with smiles, and little Bobby's knees were clean of sin.

Dinner was pleasant enough with chicken breast, veggies, and mashed potatoes, and the boy seemed very well behaved while seated at the table. He didn't interrupt or obnoxiously demand attention the way children often do. He ate all his dinner including the greens. After dessert was finished, he was very polite about asking to be excused. Throughout the whole ordeal West was confused at how a boy so well mannered could be capable of hurting innocent animals. There was something not right about the child, and despite deciding that he would stay out of it and how sweaty his palms were, he was going to find out what.

Later that night, they mentioned all the perks that came with living in this zip code and asked him where he came from and whether or not he lived alone. This, he enjoyed answering and inquired about them as well. When the boy was off in the play den and West was exchanging funny stories with the parents, he casually inquired about where the new cat was. Their smiles quickly disappeared and cast a somber mood over the parents, which he had expected. The mother answered with a trembling voice that the new cat had also disappeared.

"Really?" asked West, taking not to purposely furrow his brows, trying to look and sound surprised.

"Yes," she sighed. "Just before you arrived we realized the cat was nowhere to be found."

"Why do you suppose your cats keep disappearing? Do you maybe think something is happening to them?" he asked, despite the eerie feeling that was mounting inside him. George's eyes betrayed the frown he wore. West felt like the parents knew.

"Animals are unpredictable," he said.

And West knew when to back off. "That's true," he replied. "I used to have a dog, a stray like the cat, but it ran away or got lost when I was kid. I'm sorry to hear that."

Their smiles returned. "Thank you for your concern," Haley said.

"Well, I think I've wasted enough of your time." West slid his chair back and drank the rest of his water. "Thank you for dinner. The veggies were fresh, the mashed potatoes were soft, and the chicken was tender and cooked to perfection. You know, maybe I could talk to your kid about lost pets? Since I can relate, I thought it might help him with coping."

"Oh, would you?" she said, "That sounds lovely. Since you'll be here for a few more minutes, we'll go and make a nightcap for you to enjoy before you leave."

"Do you prefer whiskey, or gin?" George asked.

"Gin sounds good," West replied.

 Haley chuckled. "I think you and my husband just became best friends. We'll go make some drinks, it'll be ready in a few."

As the parents cleared the table and made the drinks, West went to the living room and sat in the play den with the boy. At first the child barely acknowledged him, fully engrossed in his toy soldiers and cars, but when West asked him what he thought of cats, the boy's eyes grew dark. He dropped the toy he'd been holding and met West's gaze. The boy's icy stare seemed cut through him and West felt bones chill and his heart begin to pound out of his chest. There was something about the child that was completely unnerving. Finally the boy spoke.

"That's what they all wanted to know."

West pulled his head back. "What are you talking about?" but the boy had nothing more to add. It was infuriating, and for a moment he had forgotten where he was. When asked a straightforward question, West expected a straightforward answer and this further proved to him why children were to be avoided at all costs. Anger built inside him as he stared down the evil child until he found himself kneeling inches away and whispering into the boy's ear.

"I know you've been killing those cats, you demonic little shit, and you're going to tell me why right now." The boy glared up at him, his eyes still cold as winter, then he smiled and his face twisted into a pout. The boy began to cry crocodile tears and West's jaw dropped. He'd made a terrible error. The mother ran into the play den at the sound of her son's cry, and West got to his feet nervous for how this was going to look.

Haley kneeled next to her son, wiping away his tears and hugging him. "What's wrong, Bobby? Did something happen?" He said nothing and continued to cry.

Hoping to take advantage of the moment and get the drop on them, West then asked to speak to the parents privately in the dining room. A grave look of concern dominated Haley's expression, but she nodded and soon they all stood in the next room.

"I don't want to alarm you," West began, Bobby still sobbing in the other room. "You're both very nice people, but I feel it's my responsibility to let you know that on two separate occasions I saw your son hurt those cats, and he killed the second. I witnessed all of this from my window. He killed it in your backyard, check the grass. There's blood," he revealed.

It was as though the mother and father became completely petrified in an instant, yet their expressions didn't change. They simply froze, until suddenly the father yelled.

"You were watching my son?!"

Haley chimed in, "Are you some kind of sexual pervert?!"

West's eyes widened. "What? No! I am not some pedophile, just go look in the backyard, I saw him-"

George pushed him back. "Get out! Now!"

"And stay away from our son! He's a lovely boy and we don't appreciate this. You're lucky I don't call the cops right now!"

West gritted his teeth and his nose flared - did they even listen to what he said? Seeing that there was nothing more he could do and that saying anything would dig the hole deeper, he turned around and walked through the living and to the door. He glanced over at Bobby, his cheeks still rolling with tears, and for that tiny moment their eyes met West felt another chill. Bobby smirked. After that, he thought it best not to ever get involved with the family ever again. He'd lose everything.

Though he couldn't do anything about it, for days West still obsessed over what might be wrong with the parents. They were blind to the evils of their own child, yet it was irrefutable that their cats were disappearing. They had to know their kid was killing them, but parents listen to their children more than strangers and neighbors. What parent wouldn't? But eventually, as the week unfolded, West managed to distance himself enough to accept the fact that they were only the neighbors. They had nothing to do with his life really, and maybe he needed to let it all go. It took a little more than a week for West to shake the confrontational dinner from his mind, but eventually it was all behind him, or so he thought.

West came home from work today and stood in his bedroom as always, glancing out the window while changing his clothes, watching the hue of the sky change as he always did. The boy was in the backyard again. This time he played with a Calico cat, chasing it around the yard. Suddenly Bobby stopped and looked up at West with his creepy dark eyes. They stared at each other for a while, and West watched as an evil grin spread across the boy's face. A creeping feeling climbed up West's legs and back.

Oh no you don't, he thought, not again. West couldn't stop himself after all. He threw on his jeans and tee shirt in a rush. He barreled down the stairs and out his back door where he ran to the fence. West pressed his face against the wood in attempts to see between the slats.

The boy held the Calico cat in his hands. The cat hissed ferociously, clearly terrified of its owner. West watched through the slats as the boy brought the cat down in the grass and held it there. He knew what was coming next. The boy will break its spine, killing it just like all the rest. In a desperate panic to prevent this, West jumped, grabbed hold of the top of the fence, and in an intense struggle managed to pull himself up and peer over the top. A bush hid him, and after he confirmed that the boy couldn't see him, he jumped all the way over the fence and landed perfectly behind the bush.

Moments later, when he peered out from the bush, his heart sank. The cat was already back in the boy's arms, motionless and bloody. West had been too late. Rather than give up, West kept on spying as the boy turned and quickly walked to a back door of his house, the dead cat dangling from his hand.

Horrified, West ran out from behind the bush all the way to the back door and paused. The upper half of the door was glass and West carefully inched up and peered through, careful not to be seen by anyone inside.

What he observed next was absolutely ghastly. The room was some sort of slaughter house, tools were sprawled across tables and bloodied hooks hung from the ceiling, red in every direction he looked. It was equipped with a large sink and stove, and Haley was there, too, standing next to a steaming pot, and Bobby handed the dead cat to her. She laid it across a table with one hand and lifted a large butcher knife with the other. In one precise motion she sliced down and struck the cat's neck, perfectly severing its head and letting it roll to the floor. She lifted the lifeless body, held it upside down and drained the blood in a bucket, then ripped at the flesh. She was skinning the cat, and her calm demeanor scared West even more. She's done this many times before.

These people are savages, thought West, and he knew it was time to get out of there. He needed to call the cops. Just as he was about to quietly back away, a hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind. His heart dropped and he held his breath.

"What do you think you're doing?"

West's face was struck to the side, nearly knocking him out. His vision was hazy, but his eyes grew wide in terror as George dragged him through the back door and forced him to sit on a chair. He stood next to him, and other than a quick glance, Haley barely acknowledged him and continued skinning the cat. West watched, his eyesight clearing up as seconds passed. The cuts against the skin became vivid, and the blood more lucid than he thought possible. He broke into a cold sweat and his breath staggered, his teeth clicking against one another. In a matter of minutes the Calico was nothing but meat. Haley picked up the skinned corpse and dropped it into a pot of boiling water.

"Y-you people are sick," said West, barely managing to let it out. Suddenly he felt his stomach turn with disgust at a thought - what did he eat last week at dinner? He felt the overwhelming urge to vomit and sprung to his feet, but George put his hands on his shoulders and shoved him back down to his seat and held him there.

"You shouldn't have stuck your nose where it didn't belong," he said.

Haley picked up the Calico's head from the ground, stuck her hand inside, and as if it was a puppet made it frown at West. She leaned close to him and pouted. "Mr. West really messed up, didn't he? Like our last neighbor, always so nosy." She chuckled, turned around, and walked to a large door that West didn't notice in the back. She took the large handle and opened the door with a clank.

It was a freezer full of frozen decapitated heads loitering the ground and shelves, their eyes gray and filmy, humans and animals alike, and the hooks inside had meat hanging from them. Among it all was a full human torso. West felt a sting in his throat and couldn't stop himself from throwing up that time at an even repulsive thought - there was something worst than eating a cat. Haley thew the head inside with the rest

Haley smiled, then before he even knew what has happening West felt cold steel slide against his neck and he gurgled. He looked down and saw his blood pouring out, mixing with the vomit on his shirt and ground. He tried to talk, but it only made him lose consciousness quicker.

"We'd like for you to join us for dinner again."