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6/12/2025, 10:05:01 PM
>Mandy was alone in her room, like any other typical afternoon.
>Rain pelted the windows in sharp, rhythmic thuds.
>Mandy sat curled on her bed, sleeves of her worn pink sweater bunched around her fists.
>Her eyes flicked toward the door every few seconds.
>Saliva was gone.
>Not under the bed. Not in his blanket fort. Just… gone.
>The silence gnawed at her.
>The door burst open with a gust of cold air.
>She jumped with a squeak.
>Billy stood there, soaked from head to toe, hoodie dripping onto the carpet. His eyes were sharp, unreadable under his cap.
>“Checked the whole street,” he muttered. “Couldn’t find the furball.”
>Mandy’s voice was soft, strained. “He wouldn’t just leave. Something’s wrong.”
>A voice like velvet dipped in sarcasm drifted in from above.
>“Oh my GOD, you two are such drama,” drawled Eris, the skeletal reaper assigned to them in eternal servitude.
>She lounged upside-down on the ceiling, one bony leg crossed over the other, long blonde hair swaying like the pendulum of an ominous clock.
>“Pets wander off like all the time, especially the like clingy emotional ones. No offense.”
She twirled her scythe lazily .
>Billy narrowed his eyes. “You know something. Spill it.”
>Eris shrugged. “Maaaaybe. Ever heard of the Department of Eternal Strays? Real underground scene. Mostly bureaucrats and dead cats.”
>They had reached the Department.
>The building looked like it had died years ago, then been brought back with necromancy, entropy, and a bureaucracy problem.
>Inside the grotesque lights flickered and coughed shadows.
>Filing cabinets stretched into the void, some whispering in guttural Latin.
>Walls moaned when touched.
>Rain pelted the windows in sharp, rhythmic thuds.
>Mandy sat curled on her bed, sleeves of her worn pink sweater bunched around her fists.
>Her eyes flicked toward the door every few seconds.
>Saliva was gone.
>Not under the bed. Not in his blanket fort. Just… gone.
>The silence gnawed at her.
>The door burst open with a gust of cold air.
>She jumped with a squeak.
>Billy stood there, soaked from head to toe, hoodie dripping onto the carpet. His eyes were sharp, unreadable under his cap.
>“Checked the whole street,” he muttered. “Couldn’t find the furball.”
>Mandy’s voice was soft, strained. “He wouldn’t just leave. Something’s wrong.”
>A voice like velvet dipped in sarcasm drifted in from above.
>“Oh my GOD, you two are such drama,” drawled Eris, the skeletal reaper assigned to them in eternal servitude.
>She lounged upside-down on the ceiling, one bony leg crossed over the other, long blonde hair swaying like the pendulum of an ominous clock.
>“Pets wander off like all the time, especially the like clingy emotional ones. No offense.”
She twirled her scythe lazily .
>Billy narrowed his eyes. “You know something. Spill it.”
>Eris shrugged. “Maaaaybe. Ever heard of the Department of Eternal Strays? Real underground scene. Mostly bureaucrats and dead cats.”
>They had reached the Department.
>The building looked like it had died years ago, then been brought back with necromancy, entropy, and a bureaucracy problem.
>Inside the grotesque lights flickered and coughed shadows.
>Filing cabinets stretched into the void, some whispering in guttural Latin.
>Walls moaned when touched.
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