Horror Cat

One afternoon, as you were crossing an alley, you saw a gaunt cat that stopped you in your tracks. Its white fur was dirty, one of its eyes glowed red like an unsettling fire, and where the other should have been, there was only a dark void. Despite its chilling appearance, your compassion won out, and you took it home. You named it "Horror," a name that seemed tailor-made for it.

Everything was going relatively well until that night. Through carelessness, you left the window open, and Horror disappeared. Worried, you prepared to look for him, but upon returning to the living room, there he was. Sitting in the middle of the room, he watched you with his glowing red eye. His white fur was now covered in blood, and in front of him lay a mangled, barely recognizable mouse.

Horror stared at you as if awaiting your approval for his feat. A shiver ran down your spine as you muttered, "You need a bath." Now you faced the most difficult task: cleaning your hellish cat.