The Princess and Her Cat

Two

After Chat left, I sat at the table picking at a croissant, finishing homework, and flipping through one of Adrien's most recent photo shoot magazines. Yes, it has been two years. Yes, I still have a massive crush on him. And yes, I'm finally able to make complete sentences around him. We're actually good friends, I've even been to his house a few times. Though he seems to prefer hanging out at my house, I guess his can seem a little empty and lonely.

Now finished with homework, I left the cozy bakery I called home and began walking to Alya's house, a slight drizzle beginning to fall on my way. Hurrying on, I didn't notice the dark figure approaching behind me or the impending doom. Stepping under an awning as the rain began to pour harder, I pulled out my phone, beginning to send a quick text to Alya, but I never got to send that text. I never got to finish typing. I didn't even have time to scream anything before a gloved hand was clamped over my mouth, my phone knocked to the pavement. The smell of gasoline nearly choked me as I was drug backwards, my feet scrambling to find purchase on the now slick ground. I couldn't transform, I had taken off my Miraculous because Alya insisted on me wearing the earrings she got me, so I was trapped. I struggled, trying to get away, even just long enough to scream. And I did. I screamed the only name that came to mind as loud as I could. Chat. My plea for help was cut short by a brain rattling blow to the head, then everything went dark.

When I opened my eyes again, hot, sticky air clung to my skin, my head throbbed, and everything hurt. I was laying on a mattress that smelled of sweat, mildew, and curdled milk. Nearly gagging, I attempted to move, to get out of the humid, foul smelling prison. But I couldn't move. My breath came in ragged gasps as panic began to sink in and realisation hit me like Ladybug's yo-yo. My hands were bound to the headboard. A creaky fan stirred above my head. Drywall dust was falling from the ceiling, filtering through dingy sunlight. The only thing shielding me from the outside world was a dirty sheet.

My plea for help had been ignored. Chat hadn't saved me. Why did I tell him to go?

The bonds at my wrists were fairly loose, the ribbon smooth and giving.

"Don't think you can escape." a voice, younger than I had expected, taunted.

"And why not?" I shot back.

"Because I have your life in my hands," he explained, pulling out a knife and spinning it, "and I intend to have some fun with it."

I vaguely remember the sheet being ripped off my body and the man crouching over me. But what stands out most is the pain. It burned behind my vision, throbbed behind my eyes. Tendrils of electricity shot up my abdomen, starting from the incision he made in my stomach and rocketing up to my head. A scream erupted from my mouth and a sob stuck in the back of my throat.

This was going to be it. I was going to die, alone, in pain, and regretting the things I never said. I never told Adrien I loved him, I never told Chat that he was my best friend, I never told Chat I was Marinette. I never told my parents I was Ladybug. Tikki would have to find a new host.

I would die here.

But then he stopped. He had been using the sheet to clean up his work, and now he pressed it to my stomach, the words soaking red through the sheet. They spelled out "alone" in jagged letters.

That's how I felt.

Alone.

Perhaps Chat would burst through any second, knock the knife out of his hands, cut my bonds, and scoop me up and take me home. But no.

I was alone.