Why I keep a sinister dark void of a beast as my pet

 

This is Spook, my pet cat. Spook, unlike his name suggests, is not spooky; he is a scaredy cat himself. He often gets mistaken for everything other than a cat: a dog, a fox, a plush, a bear even. Even I regularly mistake him for a pile of dark clothes. 

  

Being the sinister void he is, he is often found to be looming, watching us over from great heights. 

This mythical dark beast enjoys feasting on the flesh of creatures from the deep blue seas (aka fish).

Spook, the mysterious shadowy feline, seems devoid of emotions; he does not particularly enjoy cuddles. However, there are times when he yowls and scratches behind my chair, indubitably seeking some pats on the head. Yet, as soon as he receives them, he behaves as if he never displayed his need for affection.

There are times, however, when he does live up to his title.

a jumpscare, much spooky

Seeing a black lump of floof, tucked away in the corners, is not something you'd normally expect when you open a bathroom door. This kind of horror does occur from time to time.

In reality, Spook is a very chill cat: 

He is dumb, often silly.

Sniffing your feet is the first thing he'll do,

Then he'll trust you, 

And show you his belly.

....

The writer of this blog sincerely hopes the readers have not continued this far, as the poem that's just been composed may be considered a total abomination. 

In conclusion, there is no conclusion. This paragraph you are reading at this moment exists only for aesthetic purposes. There is nothing to read here. You may leave now. Thank you for reading.