Most mornings followed the same routine.

A fresh bowl of fat trimmings, small bones, and a sliced boiled egg laid out in front of the big sliding glass door, which previewed if the weather allowed a nice walk or not.

If weather did permit, a refreshing walk through the gated community, just long enough that my senior joints wouldn’t be affected.

Jim, my human, would carry me back inside our home and delicately place me in my bed which smelt of my urine and hair follicles. A sweet aroma that he would erase every few days.

During my morning nap, I often noticed he left our home for some time, enough time for the sun to begin to set. I had my stuffed squirrel and the tv blaring so most of the time I was content until he arrived home again. On bad days, I’d leave him a present by the front door. He always gagged while cleaning it up but smiled at me through it all. Jim was such a good human.

So I thought.

Just the other night, once the sun began to settle, he burst through the front door out of breath. I looked up from my bed, startled. A scent wafted through the air between us, clearly coming from him. It was metallic, warm and the fumes set deep in my nose. I sniffed and sniffed, trying to put a name to the smell but my elderly senses weren’t what they used to be.

Jim threw his keys on the little wooden table in the foyer and the clash of them hitting the solid wood caused an ache in my ears. I whined silently, worried I’d cause him more upset.

He paced the living room for some time. Muttering to himself about his “fucking mistake”. Part of me worried he was talking about me and I sat my head on my paws, hoping to become invisible. He eventually took a seat on the couch and took a deep breath. I felt this was as good of a chance as any to try and console him. I hobbled my way to his side and put my head on his knee. He looked at me in my eyes and I could see not his sky blue eyes but eyes of darkness. Something cold and angry. I’ve seen them before in an alley once, before I met Jim. It was another creature, one whose fur was matted and this creature snarled harshly. Bubbles of sort filling its mouth. But I remember those eyes. They were deranged, sick, ready to take out anything in its path.

But Jim just put his frigid hand on my head and sighed.

“I’m going away soon, Maxie.” He said rubbing behind my floppy ears. I let out a whimper. A life without Jim? One couldn’t even bare it.

He brought his hand to my chin and scratched, that’s when I smelt that tinny smell again, rancid and oddly delicious. I spotted a red stain on his sleeve. A large red stain. I took a sniff. I took a lick. And I took a moment to realize that somehow I just knew what this substance was and it wasn’t Jim’s.

There was a knock at the door, not just a knock but a rapid thumping. A noise that demanded attention right now. I let out a growl, feeling a threat was imminent even if my body wouldn’t let me protect I could at least sound intimidating.

A voice came from the door, thunderous and full of fierce intention.

“Jim Madison, this is the FBI, open up now! We know you are in there!” The stranger barked. Jim didn’t move just stared into the abyss. The stranger didn’t seem to have patience and the door splintered from force before I could even blink.

Men in dark uniforms barreled in like the street rats used to when the restaurants threw out the nights leftovers. They held weapons in each of their hands.

“Put your hands behind your back and get on your stomach!” The same roaring voice yelled, Jim followed his directions. They placed giant rings around his wrists and kept a knee on his back.

“Where are the bodies?! Where are the girls?!” The man forcing himself on Jim, said full of rage.

And that’s when I knew. Jim did something wrong. Very wrong.