You kick your struggling into high gear, flailing your arms and legs and squirming out from under the cat's snapping jaws. Eventually you land a firm, satisfying punch on the cat's nose that sends the animal scampering back a few startled steps.
It'll be a brief victory, you realize. But satisfying nonetheless.
You then turn and run down the alley as quickly as you can, looking desperately for something to hide in. There isn't much. This is perhaps the most immaculately-clean alley you've ever seen.
A hissing rowr from behind you tells you that the cat has now recovered from the shock of being punched and is now gaining on you quite quickly.
You feel the world suddenly go dark, violent, and quite hairy as the cat pounces, landing on you and then curling itself around you, pointy bits facing inward.
This time the cat is not playing around, however. While its claws dig painfully at your torso, you feel a familiar warm wetness surround your shins, then your thighs, then your waist.
The cat then uncurls and rolls itself into a loungey reclining position to finish you off. With a few more quick swallows, you're looking at the world from between the sillhouettes of dark and pointy teeth. And then you're looking at darkness.
It's a quick trip down the cat's throat and into its stomach. The stomach is tight, hot, wet, and - as you quickly realize - already occupied. As you begin exploring the dark chamber to find a wall suitable for your biowave light, you encounter a shuddering and quite gooey mass of fur that thrashes wildly as soon as you touch it and begins squeaking in sheer terror. Probably a field mouse, you think, a fact that's confirmed when you clip the light onto the stomach wall. The light is faint and flickery, having been designed for human amperage, but it works well enough to illuminate the small chamber.
.The suddent burst of light terrifies the already-frightened mouse, which attempts to scamper away, even though there's no place for it to scamper to. The accomodations are rather less than roomy, you note with a bit of gloom.
It's a good thing you're not claustrophobic, or you'd be in agony here. The chamber allows you just enough room to stand, in the little bit of space left unoccupied by the mouse. Hot liquid fills the cnamber up to your waist - you couldn't sit here even if you wanted to. So you're going to have to spend most of the next few hours standing up,
You sigh quietly and resign yourself to making the best of it. The first order of business is calming this stupid mouse down before he gives himself a heartattack. You begin scratching behind the rodent's ears and whispering reassuringly to it when you feel its fur squelch nauseatingly. The poor little guy must have been digesting in here for hours, you realize.
To the reader - It's gonna get icky from this point on. Would you like to stick around for the ride, or head back to the beginning and try something else?
