Have you ever watched a cat toying with a mouse?

Swiping at them with their little paws and watching them squirm. It looks like such a game to them, a toy to play with that when they’re bored could become a tasty little snack.

But my momma told me never to play with my food, it’s not very good manners.

That’s not why cats toy around with mice they catch. It’s not because they want to eat them. It’s a game of dominance.

They like to play with them just enough to make sure the pesky little rodents don’t run away. They’re not really a meal to the cat, they’re something… more. They play with them to prove who is the stronger animal. It’s domination in the simplest form.

They’re hunters, training their skills on the weak. They’ll sharpen their claws and rip that little mouse apart piece by piece, and then play with the pieces.

That’s a lot like watching you and Michaela, Klaus.

You’ve toyed with your little mouse just enough to give her a teeny sniff of freedom. Just enough so she would never run away.

You let her find her daddy, but kept her at an arm’s reach from him. You let her build up sisterly ties to your other freaks before ripping that from her too. Piece by piece, you’ve torn your little mouse apart. 

But she’s no meal to you, Klaus. Your little mouse isn’t food, it’s your property. She’s nothing but a plaything to exert your twisted dominance over. To help you keep your claws sharp because it makes you feel strong… powerful… worthwhile.

All the things that your parents never made you feel.

But in reality, you’re none of those things. You’re a ringmaster without a circus. A leader who has lost his… Way.

Hehehe, see what I did there.

I like to toy with people too, my friend.

But this friend in my head, he loves to toy with his little mice in a whole different way. He’s a bit different. He’s no cat, pawing away like it’s a game.

He’s a mouse trap.

The cheese is set in place, and the game begins. Because to that friend in my head, it’s all about the game. Patiently waiting for the mouse to come close enough, to take the bait.

Because when it does, the response is simple, swift and deadly… and that’s the best part!

SNAP!

Watching the little mouse’s eyes burst with terror in that final fleeting moment before the trap comes down and squishes their skull like a piece of playdough.

It’s not like you, Klaus… It’s not about power.

It’s about the game.

We both catch our meeces… But I have WAY much more fun in the process.

And when those ambulance doors swing shut, you’ll see that you were never the cat at all, just a mouse in my game. You’ll find yourself trapped just like all the other mice I’ve claimed.

Caught in a game you had no idea you were playing. 

Come sniff the cheese, my little mouse.

The game is afoot.