A evil, merciless cat stood in the middle of a old town dirty road.
Dust blew around her, covering her silver and gray pelt with little atoms of dirt that would stay there until she licked it clean.
Her milky white eyes were slitted, as they always were.
She was walking toward a building that was fully made out of wood, and even some of the peices were sticking straight out of the building. It had a sign at the top of the door that said "Bar".
The cat's paws were pounding against the soft dirt, making paw prints in the sand.
She entered through those swinging doors that had the symbol of a man on a horse with a lasso swinging out from his outstretched hand.
The whole of the bar gasped and stared at the satanic cat.
"One beer." She hissed in mid-air while she walked toward the counter where the red stools were always polished to a sleek shine that could always be blinding against the lights.
She sat down on one of them, swinging her tail around. She waited for the bartender to stop staring at her like he was some kind of trapped prey.
The bartender almost spilled all of the beer in his hand when he jumped to her orders. He filled a mug that had been carefully spit polished full of the strongest beer they had.
He passed it down towards the she-cat.
She grabbed it with her paw and began to chug the whole thing, claws extended to scrape against the cup. It made a horrid screeching sound that made everybody cover their ears.
"Kiba's out of her mind." Somebody whispered to their partner next to them.
Kiba ignored the comments, carrying on. A trickle of beer came from the corner of her mouth, dripping onto the floor.
When she was done she threw them mug at the bartender with a snicker of disgust on her face that made him cower in fear. She had berly missed his head.
"What do you think you're running here, a oil factory?" She hissed with a spit in his direction.
Quickly she got up, and turned to the leave. Only to be stopped by a fellow townsman.
"Hold it right there, Kiba." He growled, standing up at one of the tables that were way behind her. You couldn't see his appearance, for he was covered by a jacket, a hat, pants, shoes, and all the accesories that made him look like a detective.
"What?" Kiba turned her head ot the side to look at her opponent. She had a look on her face that told everybody she was close to bursting into ignorant laughter.
"I challenge you to a gun fight." He said lowly, trying to keep his calm.
"You're on, tomorrow. Meet me here at 5 o' clock sharp. If you're late, you won't like the consequences." She turned her head back toward the door and walked out of it.
The whole bar jumped into action.
"You're going to get yourself killed, Rick!" The bartender said exasperatedly from his corner in which he was still cowering.
"I'm doing it for the town."
That day, Kiba waited for him at 5:00. Her pendants were swinging in the wind that seemed to be over this place all the time.
He appeared from the shadows, right on the dot. His coat flung behind him, but it was not enough to reveal his true identity,
"Well, it looks like you weren't late, bastard." Kiba snickered evilly.
"Nope." He laughed, ignoring the comment that stung him like venom. Her voice was enough to make a puppy quiver.
Just then, he tore off his disguise. It revealed a cat.
This cat was a brown tabby. He had golden eyes that were calm and very welcoming. Something Kiba always found annoying.
She slitted her eyes even more, "Well I guess I found the faggot wagon."
He again ignored the comment, reaching for his gun.
The town had looked on in their houses, through their windows or out of the holes that were burned into every house from the fire Kiba had set one time.
They were both silent as they reached for their guns.
Kiba pulled it out first, and pointed it at him. She gave him the chance to point it at her.
Kiba's lips were pulled back in a blood-stained sneer of contempt.
They both shot at the same time, the bullets seemed to go in slow motion to both of them.
The bullet Kiba shot went straight through the cat's forehead, making him flip backwards into the sandy dirt that was now wet with blood.
The one Rick shot hit Kiba in the heart, she didn't move and inch.
Quickly, she walked over to him and stood over him. Her teeth were still pulled back into that evil snicker.
"What's your name?" Kiba chuckled with a hint of mischeif in her voice.
"Rick.....Why aren't.. You dead?" he whispered into the air.
"Well, Rick. I'm a shinigami. And shinigami's are death gods. They can't die. Either, or, your shot was worthless." Kiba laughed at him.
Every passing minute his life was slipping from his grasp, the grasp he had held for so long was finally being lost to a shinigami. He even used a poisoned bullet.
"By the way," Kiba continued, going in close to his ear.
"I love the