Intriguingly he watched as his pet cat squirmed against the rope that held it stretched out about a foot off the ground. Curiously morbid and no supervision led him to do naughty things. The family cat for instance, Sylvester, had never liked him and often hissed or scratched when he came near calling with his creaky voice, “Here kitty, kitty, kitty…” The smell filled his nostrils and he took delight as it was even grosser than he thought it might be. Kindling from the woodpile, newspaper, and a box of matches lay beside Terrance as he watched Sylvester slowly roast. The singed hair smoked furiously as the flames began to lick higher and higher up Sylvester’s sides. Terrance watched, fascinated with what he saw before him. He put his ear plugs in once Sylvester’s meows became yowls of fear and pain.
Amanda had been gone from home for a little over twenty minutes and hoped that Terrance had managed to stay out of trouble. Probably not, she shuddered at the thought of what she might return home to.