Bullet was an odd cat, a lynx colourpoint with blue eyes and a short stubby tail. But that wasn't the reason he was odd.
A scream, followed by shouting, a man pushing his way through the crowd, it was a snatch thief. A fast one at that, nobody could catch him, and by the time the police arrive, he would have been long gone, "Not on my watch." Bullet thought.
He snakes his way through the crowd more efficiently than the most talented thief, taking shortcuts that even the most mischievous of kids could never crawl through because, well, he was a cat! When he caught up to the thief in an alleyway, he hid behind a trash can and simply watched him.
The thief looked around, before knocking against a door. It had a particular pattern to his knock, a password? Perhaps? The door doesn't open, and he knocks again, a second pattern. This time, the door opens, and he enters. Bullet waited for a few minutes before picking up a tin can and knocked it against the door with the first pattern. "Eyy? Who's that then?" A voice from within asks, and he knocks the second pattern. The door then opens, and he slips inside. "What the-?" The man who opened the door exclaimed.
"Who is it?" The thief asks, pulling a knife out of his pocket.
"It's a cat!"
Bullet meows innocently.
"Somebody thinks he's funny." The thief says as he gets up, knife still in his hands, and quickly exits the door to find the prankster.
The man that opened the door went over to Bullet and looked at him, not knowing what to do. "Errr...do you want food?" He asks. But Bullet ignores him and jumps onto the couch.
"Huh, I guess you're good then." He says as he approaches the cat and begins to pet him. Bullet doesn't want this guy to touch him, but he endures for now. He looks around the room first for the bag that the thief snatched, and then for an escape route. It was a leather crimson bag with gold trims, so it was easy to spot right on that table. On the other side of the room, there was an open window behind the standing fan. "Perfect" he thought to himself.
Bullet started to purr, and the man suddenly felt sleepy, before he could even pull himself up onto the sofa, he dozed off right there and then, his hand still on Bullet's head. Bullet then made his way to the entrance of the room, opposite side of the open window, with the purse in between. He crouches, ready to pounce, and launches himself onto the table.
He knocks various things off the table, creating a ruckus before grabbing the purse. "Oi!!!" The man wakes up in shock. "What the, put that down!" He was still drowsy from his sudden sleep, and before he could even get up, Bullet was already out of the window.
The sound of the fan must have masked the sound of the rain because it was pouring heavily outside and he almost slipped as he landed on the concrete, he almost freaks out as he hates water and getting wet, what cat doesn't? His ears were overstimulated from the sounds of raindrops hammering onto the pavement and the rushing of water in the huge open drain in front of him.
He collects himself and looks left and right, to see the thief angrily barreling towards him. He couldn't hear the footsteps of the enraged man among the deafening rain. Immediately Bullet sprints away, the bag still in his mouth, trying not to slip too much from the slippery floor.
The thief knows that he wouldn't be able to outrun a cat, so he throws his knife. Fortunately he misses, and Bullet prays that it was the only knife he had. His prayers were answered, but not in the way he would want, he was hit in the head by a rock he threw and was knocked out for a few seconds.
When he regained consciousness from the throbbing in his skull, the purse was no longer in his jaw, but dangling in front of his face in the hands of the thief. While Bullet himself was grabbed by the scruff of his neck. In a panic, he struggles to get free, successfully scratching the thiefs arm, who exclaims in pain and tosses Bullet into the rushing waters of the drain.
He cries for help as he stopped making sense of the world, he doesn't know what's up, what's down or where is he going, all he knows is purely by mercy of the current is he able to catch breaths between bobbing in and out of the turbulent water. His perception of time distorts, it seems like it's moving faster and slower at the same time. His overstimulated ears begins to drown out every sound, making him feel as if he's going deaf. The putrid smell and taste of sewer water making him gag with every desperate breath he takes, his nostrils and windpipes sting from the water that had forced their way in, and he starts to feel the fatigue in his muscles and limbs. "This is it." He thinks to himself. "This is how I end."
He feels himself get picked up, like a hand lifting him up from from the waters. At first he thought it was the hand of God, taking him back into the pearly gates above. But immediately as he was being lifted, he was overwhelmed by yet another sensation: "Cold! Cold! Cold!" He couldn't think of anything else, his body shivered uncontrollably, and it feels like his limbs and ears were going to fall off, like they could be snapped off like a twig.
His world then goes dark as he was wrapped in some kind of cloth, but with the darkness also came warmth, and he embraced the warmth. He didn't know or care where it came from, and after fighting so hard and for so long, his body gave up. Succumbing to rest that it had craved for so long. Bullet dozes off to sleep.