Felis Nigorakxe

'I am so completely screwed.' I said.

'You got that right.' Snapped a senior officer at Metropolitan Police Station. 'So absolutely, completely, utterly, finally...' He thought for a minute.

'Stupidly...' I put in, bored. The officer's eyes narrowed and he sneered a little.

'Don't play games with me...' He looked at the police report and his eyebrows shot up. 'Your name is Mencal?'

'Yup.'

'Why doesn't it show your last name?'

'Because I don't have one.'

'Whatever. Just tell me where the goddamn ring is!'

I smiled and shook my head. 'Aww, I don't think that Mrs Katie Middlebum, I mean Middleton would call it a "goddamn ring" now, would she? I mean it is her wedding ring...A royal's wedding ring...' The officer turned puce.

'Then you do have it!'

'Uh, yeah. Real shocker there!' I replied icily. This particular officer was really starting to get on my nerves. And I'd been through a lot of officers at Metro Police.

'So for the goddamn...'

'Don't you get tired of saying goddamn all the time?'

'Shut your face! And tell me where the ring is!' I rolled my eyes and cursed him silently in French. Then as quick as lightning, I shoved my chair back and jumped up from it, startling the officer and annoying him just as quick. 'Get your arse back in that chair right now, you lowlife, good-for-nothing, careless, idiotic-' He stopped abruptly. I wasn't surprised. It's pretty much impossible to speak when your throat's been disabled.

Shoving him onto the floor, I walked around the table and smiled at the people I knew were there, on the other side of the one-way mirror on the wall. I laid the tip of my index finger on the top-left corner of the glass and pressed down slightly. Then I drew my finger all the way to the bottom-right. No-one could see that I'd made a hairline fracture of the glass with my nail. I tapped both sides of the crack at once and they both fell to the floor, shattering and cutting my bare feet.

Numerous thin ribbons of scarlet blood seeped out of the slices. Ignoring the officer struggling to get up from the floor, I went to the door and knocked three times, as I'd seen other police officers do countless times, and the guard opened a slot and asked for a password. Crap! I thought. I didn't know about a password!

I thought for a second, wondering what I should do, then decided. I went back to the officer and disabled his left side, making it go limp. His eyes widened and his breathing became more ragged. I smiled coldly, and then made my way back over to the door. Leaning slightly closer to the gap, I looked straight through into the guard's eyes and he gasped. I smiled a little more and opened my mouth to sing.

Both the guard and the officer's jaws dropped when they heard my voice. I smiled and sang a little quieter – it wouldn't do to alert anyone else – and both men drew instinctively closer.

Though I constantly sang in French, people could always understand me. I sang the usual song that I use to get out of Metro Police, 'Paix à l'esprit de nombreux'. Both officers relaxed as they heard the song and the man on the floor fell into a deep sleep. Cool, I thought, that's fine with me! The guard looked as if he was going to faint and I quickly changed to a different song, 'Ouvrez les portes fermées de Dieu'. I really need new escape songs, I thought seriously, Ones that aren't hymns. As the song took hold of the guard, he shook his head slightly and slowly opened the door to the holding cell. I smiled as I walked past and changed to a new song, one of my favourites, 'Pardonner et à oublier'. The guard's expression slipped from his face and a new one of extreme calm settled in its place.

Quickly, I walked through the corridors, not singing any more. As I reached main entrance, I lowered my head and prayed to God no one thought to check who I was. Maybe that's why I use hymns too much, I thought, grinning inwardly, I pray too much as well. I chanced a quick glance up and saw that the main doors were literally 5 feet away. Well done girl, you've done it again. I remembered to thank god for automatic doors – no fingerprints! – And hopped down the stairs feeling elated. I looked around for where I'd left my motorbike and cursed all police in French over and over again, my good mood evaporating.

They'd taken it! I kicked some bushes angrily and startled some sparrows, who chirped at me crossly. I sighed and tried to calm down before turning to the birds and listening. Then I decided to exercise my other skill. I stepped forwards and chirped back an apology at them, in perfect sparrow dialect.

I had been mimicking both animals and humans for years now and sparrows were easy. I'd listened to them a lot and picked up sounds for me to practice. The two brown birds seemed a bit shocked (well how often is it when you come across a human that can speak textbook Sparrow?) and chirped a friendly 'It's Okay!' Then they flew off. I sighed and turned over the plans for Metro Police Station in my head. I knew pretty much all of it, and I knew where they kept the vehicles of prisoners. As I walked almost casually to the vehicles, I spotted my bike straight away. The green and gold stripes of my beautiful Kawasaki glinted in the sun, and I saw a flash of light that wasn't reflected from my bike.

'C'est génial!' I cried. 'Ils ont marqués ma moto!' I tried to calm down again and saw that it was a simple tag. My beast paced angrily even though I sighed in relief. At least I could cut it. I used my nail again and cut through the basic plastic as if it were butter. What I didn't realise though, was the fact that a police officer was stationed just in front of me, to prevent the very thing that I was doing. I sensed the other person's presence but it wasn't quite right. It was almost...feral. Wait a minute! I looked up too late; the guy had already stepped out of the shadows and drawn his gun.

'Stop right there and tell me who you are!'

$Shit.