Feline Theory.
By: Butthead

Arlington was a fairly small town residing in the large state of Texas. Sitting smack in the middle of two bigger cities, Dallas and Fort Worth, Arlington was often overlooked. If you asked anybody from either of those two places about Arlington, they would tell you to go ahead and move there–if you wanted to get robbed. Which was rather exaggerated, but at the same time put mildly.

Arlington wasn't really half as bad as everyone made it out to be. It was just small in it's size compared to the other surrounding cities. And unlike the new, developed areas around, Arlington in most of its parts was considered middle-class. It had existed much longer than most of the other cities, and some of it's parts were slowly growing older and older, not to mention looking much older; and obviously not good enough to keep up with the rest of the surrounding cities with their new buildings and bigger houses.

Lake Arlington was one of the few nice places to live inside of Arlington. Large, impressive homes stood along the edge of a vast lake. Fishing docks, boating docks, ducks, a park, a basketball court, and many other luxurious accessories settled nicely in the neighborhood. The large community was basically the only one in Arlington with it's own lake in the backyard.

Unfortunately, not everyone can live in impressive looking summer homes all year long. Nor can they go boating or fishing any time they please, let alone afford a boat or fishing pole. The most some could do was bring their stale breads and feed the ducks. It did not cost anything to feed the ducks, and the ducks welcomed anyone and everyone. Considering the fact that you fed them, of course.

A little far off from Lake Arlington stood a small hill. Now this small hill might actually seem minuscule and insignificant, but it was actually a lot more important. Beyond this hill was what seemed to be another world–(another part of Lake Arlington, yes, but quite so different from the luxurious life)–a world which did not have boating docks, fishing docks, parks, ball courts, and for that matter, not even a single duck.

This small hill was the firm barrier that separated fantasy from harsh reality. And as harsh as reality might be for this part of Lake Arlington, it was not nearly as unpleasant as the reality sitting inside the worst home, at the end of Kennel Drive.

The small house that sat at the end of the street, right around the corner, was shabby, dark and derelict. The house which was probably no more than ten to fifteen years old, looked as if it had existed for fifty. With half of it's windows boarded up, its front lawn overgrown and choked with weeds, so much so that the front door could not be seen from atop the hill, it was no doubt the worst looking house of Kennel Drive.

(And there were a lot of ugly houses on that particular street).

The pavement surrounding the house had large cracks running through it from obvious unkemptness. The foundation taking every appearance of after years of a long fight, was exhausted and finally about to collapse, house and all.

The shabby neighborhood in it's entirety sat silently under the glow of the half moon that hung high above, bathing everything dark and sullen in it's equally cold glow. The air was quite cool, determined to outdo the moon with it's own harsh winds and wails.

But despite the cold glow of the moon, the scattered, howling winds, something stood atop the small hill, unperturbed. A pair of gleaming, monstrous yellow eyes stared unblinkingly; gaze fixed upon the darkest house resting silently on Kennel Drive. A house which had gone through years of being unnoticed, it seemed peculiar that something like the animal standing on the hill would be attracted to it.

And yet, it moved closer still, silently, large claws digging, puncturing quite easily into Earth's surface. A few more paces forward and it abruptly stopped, eyes narrowing, ears pricking as it listened carefully before baring it's sharp fangs.

A second pair of eyes–silver–appeared behind the first, stealthily moving to stand beside it's companion. A low, unearthly growl was emitted in greeting, and the muscles around the sculpted body of the first animal visibly relaxed. The two moved together before both predators fell silent to turn their attention back to watching the small house at the end of the street.

More pairs of lamp-like eyes in the most monstrous of shades appeared; purple, red, white, orange...

Nothing was sounded, you couldn't even hear the pack moving to stand beside the others, they were so silent. The four joined the other two and in a group of six, they stood huddled on the hill, six pairs of eyes unwaveringly staring at the house which sat at a distance, never saying anything, only watching.

It seemed funny that something so inconspicious, so unimportant as the small, shabby house on Kennel Drive would attract such attention...

Hours went, the night was slowly disappearing, and yet they watched; motionless, silent. So still and quiet you would not have known they were there at all, cleverly shielded by shadows of the night, if it had not been for their jeweled, gleaming, large eyes. So evident, so bright, even at a distance it was hard to miss. Eyes that never blinked, never wavered, only watched.

The first rays of dawn finally crept in and only then they move to stretch a limb. The silver-eyed animal was the first to move, slowly and hesitantly, as if it did not want to leave at all, in fact. It slipped past the others and disappeared back down to the other side of the hill. Its body; large, ferocious and yet graceful, never making a sound.

In twos of threes the others quietly left, until only the yellow eyed predator, the very first of the pack, was left. It stood ant watched, stood and waited even as the sky continued to lighten, the danger of being seen climbing alarmingly high. It still did not move.

It continued watching, ears once more pricked as it listened closely, moving only once or twice to crane back its large, magnificent head to look up at the sky.

And finally, minutes later, now that half of the world was brightening, it heard signs of life moving about in the tiny, derelict house it had so intently been watching for the entire night. Satisfied, Silver-Eyes backed away, gaze still lingering on the house, almost hypnotized before managing to look away. It turned and swiftly ran to catch up with the others.

Seconds later, a light turned on in one of the rooms. Someone had finally awoken.

A/N: This story has been stuck in my head for quite some time, and I decided to get it out. I'm not sure whether to pursue it or not, but I just wanted to see if anybody would be interested in the story. If so, I'll work hard to release the first chapter.