Bad Samaritan awoke, a sour taste in his mouth. He smacked his dry lips a few times, tryng to get the taste out of his mouth. Pointless. It stuck to his tongue. He bagan to roll out of bed, but he felt something strange under him. He slowly sat up, his back cracking with the movement. He looked at where he had lain, and saw a hairball. It looked fresh. A message. He picked up the offending hairball, and tossed it in the trash. Normally, he would wonder why there was a hairball in his bed when he did not own a cat of any form. But for now, all he could think of was his morning cigarette. He reached for his pack, and pulled out one of the sticks that lay within. Putting it to his lips, he scrounged his lighter from the floor where he had thrown it last night. Striking the lighter, he began to bring it to his mouth when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. He turned his head, but saw nothing. Shadow. Lighting the cigarette, he inhaled deeply, the acrid stench filling his mouth and nose. He held it in, reveling in the sensation it brought to him. He exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift from his lungs. He stretched, wringing the knots in his arm-muscles out. As he did so, he glanced over to the window. An unusually bright window. The shades were drawn open. Odd. It was then he saw it. A triangular ear. A slanted eye. Starign at him, daring him to come to the window. Cat. He sat there a moment longer, and the animal vanished. He had been found. And he had been warned. Knowledge. He smiled, and jabbed the ciggarette down into his ashtray. He didn't care. He liked this game. A game of cat and mouse. But he did have to wonder to himself. Who was cat, who was mouse? Only time would tell.