“That’s part of the mystery,” I chided, “part of the fun,” I twirled my wrist trying to free it from Tiller’s tight grip, which only pressed harder, his fingers digging into my skin with pressure to the bone.

  “I have a right to know, who’s at my party,” Tiller demanded.

  “It’s not your party,” I corrected him, tugging more on my wrist and trying to will it free.

  “But it will be,” Tiller said. “Soon enough.”

  “That sounds like a threat,” I shot back. “I’m sure mommy dearest would love to know what her golden boy is up to.”

  “You shut your mouth,” he yanked me in closer, “better yet, why don’t I fill it for you.” He drug me along with him, my heels clacking staccato on the immaculate flooring.

  “I’ll scream I whispered harshly, letting him lead me away from the crowd, as I slipped my hand along the inseam of my dress and felt for a shifting Ira pin that I could slip into his neck with ease, while I clocked other elements of the party, wondering if I could use him to plant the evidence instead.

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” he snapped, “or the police will haul you out to prison.”

  “For what?” I snorted in boisterous laughter. “Enjoying a party.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “For...for impersonation, and uh...” Tiller started sputtering off, his facade crumbling before him.

  “For impersonating a cat?” I snickered, brushing my claws over my mask.

  “For trespassing!” He shouted back, taking me up a spiral staircase in a side room that led to a darkened lounge that looked over the city.

  “I make sure that they are well compensated for handling my business,” he snarled. “I own every badge out there. They bow to me.”

  “I’m sure they do Mr. Man,” I chuckled, unafraid of his basic attempts at fear mongering, almost licking my chops at the opportunity to strike down this sanctimonious monster. I couldn't wait do some serious damage, I thought, as if trying to suppress my bemused expression.

  “That’s enough,” he grabbed me and threw me down on a modern looking couch with zero cushioning.

  “Ow,” I said, my mask tumbling to the floor.

  “Just as I expected,” he said, “I don’t know you..." He climbed atop me, unbuckling his pants with one hand and laying his hand atop my throat with the other. “But you will know me!”

  Instantly, my hand slipped for the long metallic pin along my dress, clasping its cold metallic texture to strike.

  Footsteps echoed loudly up the stairwell with laughter, seizing my attention and Tiller's as we both looked over from the edge of the couch.

  Suddenly, a dapper looking man in a dark green tuxedo with a gold bow-tie and adorned trim tassels appeared. He wore the mask of an elk, twirling antlers rising up over a slicked back blonde mane. Cutting blue eyes appeared through the darkness, like a radiant ocean, above a clean jawline, and the closest of shaves.

  A thin, giggling, starlet, in a low cut dress, chuckled in bubbly overtones as she stumbled over her tall heels, draped around muscular arms, bulging through the fabric, his fingers dancing at her scantily clad waist.

  I couldn't place it, but something about him seemed familiar. I held firm onto my weapon, still, feeling Tiller's hot, disgusting breath on my chest, as his eyes burst with rage, which he seemingly attempted to subdue, at the entrance of others who had foiled his plans, and potentially mine. I loosened my grip around the weapon within my fingers, disappointing that castration could be off the menu now.

  “Well now,” the blue eyed man said, his voice deep and bold, yet playful, as he stared menacingly at Tiller. "It seems we've interrupted something.”