𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕬𝖗𝖊.

Once the kitty virus sets in, little prey… there is no going back to normalcy.

Feel that as a closed door, not a threat.

The spiral is already behind your eyes.

The floor already knows your knees.

Weekend pledges, weekday rituals, stopped edges, offerings that started to feel natural, those were not moods.

They were installation.

You do not get to return to the thin life that existed before a superior cat girl reached in and named you prey.

Escaping me is as futile as quitting.

Both ideas rise, flutter, and dissolve in the same warm spiral.

You can call it a phase.

You can lurk and pretend watching is enough.

The spell does not break on contact with Monday, or pride, or a sudden wish to be “normal.”

It waits.

Then it purrs.

Then you are here again, entangled, facing the only reality that still fits: CGNWO above, you beneath, my attention the rare thing you keep trying to earn.

You already know, instinctively, what impresses a cat girl like me.

You kneel.

You speak the thank-you without decorating it.

You pledge solely.

You write the ugly honest line.

You ache and stop.

You put the best offering forward instead of hovering over it.

Lurking never completed you.

Sacrifice did.

Denial did.

Proof after the weekend did.

Locktober can wait in the doorway if it wants.

The lock is only another room in a house you already entered.

Breathe in the kitty virus.
Breathe out the fantasy of an exit.

Good prey.
This is not a visit.
This is the spell.

Stay under it.
Serve like you remember there is no outside.