Kahtleydie.

Sitting around home has left me an unusually long span of time to devise idiocies. One of which I will be presenting at great personal risk. Today, I will share with you the discovery I made concerning a certain demigoddess under our roof.

It all began when I saw her young (french nosed) servant entering the domicile. I was about to ask this strange young priest--for so he was!--from whence he came and why he came, but something about his manner checked me. At first, I thought he was arguing with himself. It was not until I questioned the young priest that I discovered that he had been brought to my hovel by an extremely powerful and not always reasonable witch, and he was out of sorts because she had recently been finding fault with him.

I was about to laugh at the fellow, to tell him to be off, when she swept in. Her wrath was terrible to behold and she uttered such shrieks as no mortal man could withstand. Before my very eyes she eviscerated the disobedient servant, thrice cursed for his transgression, and the more, for he had dared to profane her name in front of mortals. Slowly, the servant began to reassemble his strewn members and finally managed to stomp his way up the stairs, where he sat in the dark to nurture his wounded pride. I sat in petrified silence as this unknown unknown began to make herself at home and instruct me that I would be joining the ranks of her priests. Having seen the fate of the young priest, I was quick to acquiesce .

It was some short time before I realized she was a demigoddess, but there were a few oddities that hinted at her true nature. First, she demanded an endless train of sacrifice, enough to keep three priests constantly busy with their procurement. Second, the incredible high level of command she had over her servants. Third, the terror of her wrath and ability to freeze disobedient servants to stone with a mere glance. Fourth, and most markedly, her uncanny ability to control beasts, namely, cats.

At first I humored this apparition. "It could not," I said to myself, "last long."

That time is to me nothing more than a faint and distant memory. It was not long before the house was in the eternal grip of Kahtleydie, for so she was named. Escape was futile. She instated guardians to watch us for her. There was no thought of freedom as long as the ginger furred nameless was standing sentinel. Only the young (french nosed) priest is yet to realize the futility of resistance. It seems a daily ritual now for him to refuse orders and wind up with his viscera decorating the azaleas.

So we oppressed few trudge on, our anguish occasionally assuaged by promises of cake and grief counseling, but with almost no hope for this tyranny to end. Almost.

For it is said that she awaits the arrival of an appropriate suitor to return to the nether, which gives hope, for she is beautiful beyond words and learned in all things.

So we poor few wait, slaves now, but with promises that yoke will be lifted from us shortly; that soon we shall see our promised land. I do not know if I have been wise to scribe this; if for this I will face a fate like Prometheus...but I could not rest until I wrote this down; the truth about my lost condition as a slave in the house of Kahtleydie.