Catlateral Catastrophe (Septiplier/MarkiplierxJacksepticeye)

Chapter 4

A loud banging was rattling every window through the house and sending echoes through the walls, and that very same echo carried a vibration that tingled in the sharpest, edgiest way.

I huffed angrily as my fur stood right up, completely on-end, and bugged the crap out of me. I lifted my head to glare at the door to the bedroom I was occupying; where the loudest point of the sound was emitting from.

As I went to lay my small, delicate, brown and white head onto my sock-like paws, the sound reoccurred with collective shouts from whoever was making it.

By-Jesus, Mark, I thought I was loud!? I got nothin' on you!

In frustration, my furry ears flicked back, and my facials grew agitated.

That was until a big lump that I was laying against that I thought was a pillow started to hurriedly move, bumping me a few times and pushing me.

I was about to hiss until my petite, four-legged figure was no longer touching the comfy bedding and instead plummeting downwards.

I let out a tiny yowl, but was surprised when the ground met daintily with my paws. I studied myself carefully, still in shock from the fall and self-catch. 

'Yeah, yeah, so I landed on my stupid, fuzzy nubs ONCE,' I thought, undeniably pessimistically. For such a positive guy, this body just gave me fragility that made me feel worthless.

Before I could think more sorrowfully for myself, a pair of large feet fell almost on top of me, and as I tried to run from them, scared, I felt a sharp pain rip ruthlessly through my back. I screamed out in agony, thankful to feel the weight that had pressed down on my tail released.

"Oops, sorry, kit—Jack!" A deep, unpracticed voice apologized. I merely flicked my poor tail, glaring up at him. Mark was definitely still half-asleep, so I guess I should have given him some forgiveness.

'Hang on just a whiskey-drinkin' lick, if Mark's in here,' my mind pondered, 'then who's knocking on the door?'

I scanned over my thoughts and then went wide-eyed as it came into realization. I'd slept with Mark.

I purred in laughter at my own thoughts, though still feeling somewhat panicked and disgruntled. Mostly because of one thought that stained my mind like red-wine.

'Fangirls would kill ta be a cat right about now.'

The door to Mark's room was now open, so I figured I might as well slip out. Besides, my bladder was killin' me!

"Dude! Seriously! Put on some pants before you greet someone, jeez," a disgusted, unfamiliar voice rang along with an accompanied laugh.

It didn't take long to get to where Mark was; standing by the door, greeting two friends. I had no cares for them though, as I was heart-set on getting the raven-haired YouTuber to let me out for a piss. Then I realized that the door was open and I'll just slip right out, master—I mean, Mark, wouldn't even have to know.

So began that plan where I slipped out between their feet like an eel. The plan was going well until I got out onto Mark's driveway, when I heard footsteps and then the door shut.

Despite the overwhelming scents and smells of the outside, I was compelled by the loud, alarming shut to turn and see.

My heart sank as it came clear to me that the sound was probably the sound that was going to be the death of me. Stuck out in the cold, forever.

Well, I still needed ta piss.

I crawled off into a nearby bush, using my powerful little nose the pick up every other dog and cat droppings or markings here.