Cosplay: A little cat in the night

The night began to break through into darkness, glowing red as the sun began to make itself known. The stars lost their vibrancy as the morning light penetrated the dark sky, marking the beginning of tomorrow. Most people were fast asleep, still far from waking. For others, however, their night remained. Damien walked the quiet streets of the city, his footsteps echoing in the empty alleys and side streets. He had the door of a man who had a place, but he spent several twilight hours circling the same neighborhood, over and over again. He was looking for something. Something that belonged to him. Something precious. Something that had been taken and mistreated and needed to be returned. It was close. He knew it. But his fate still eluded him. When he turned into a familiar alley, he expected to see the same trash pickup he had passed many times. Instead, a new display of filth caught his attention. A tall man in a well-tailored suit stumbled toward him, his shirt open and his tie disheveled. His eyes were red and his forehead glistened with sweat. He had the demeanor of a man lost in a chemical world of his own creation. He was definitely on to something, and Damien could see the signature of what he was. The stranger was walking very hard, having not woken up in what could have been days. His groin was also oddly swollen, suggesting that he was or was being aroused. But the clear sign of where he was was on his chest – a sign that he was on the right track: claw marks. The pervert in the suit bumped into him, looked him in the eye, and felt a powerful pulse. Damien had done something to him. It was powerful and exciting, and he wanted more.