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Kitty Kibbles(Author's notes):hey, I tried to write a decent story, hope it worked. This is kind of an alternate reality story for those of you who enjoy them.
It would be better to lay low and get over his soreness before he went home; she'd just feed him like mad if he did that. And the way he was feeling, he'd probably sink tooth and claw into those monsters she called grandchildren. He hurt in places that he didn't even know he had and if those brats ran true to form, they would find every hurting spot and make it worse. No thank you. He'd almost rather spend the day stuck in a thorn tree than put up with that.
Normally he was very patient but right now he was tired and he hurt. That fight with Macavity had taken more out of him than he'd been aware of, leaving his mind and body almost to the point of exhaustion. Others had offered to see Old Deuteronomy home, but as his son, Munkustrap felt honor bound to perform that small service, no matter how strange he was beginning to feel,; almost feverish but that could wait until he decided where he was going to go for the rest of the day.
His muscles felt stiff and he knew from the odd pulling in his right side, over the ribcage, that he had some gaping scratches. It had been a nasty altercation and the other tom had pulled some odd things on him, moves that almost hypnotized him. That made him worry. If Macavity could do that to a cat like himself, what might he use it for on other cats? Cats that didn't have the strength of will that he himself possessed in such abundance?
Remembering the bizarre way he had seemed to slow down and lose his determination to beat his enemy, he hesitated and stumbled a bit in his walk. For a moment there, he could have sworn that he once again saw the fiend's clawed appendage weave that peculiar pattern in front of his face and things seemed to lose their substance, almost fading away from his consciousness. It would be so nice to just give up all responsibility and leave the clan, he thought and then jerked himself back to reality.
Shaking his head, he wondered where that thought had come from and then dismissed it in favor of contemplating just what had gone on the night before. Things had come close to getting out of control, he'd come close to losing the only parent he'd ever really known. Sure, he was glad to see Grizzabella make the trip to the Heaviside, but it was still hard to forgive her for what she'd done to him when he was just a tiny kitten. Good thing his father had stepped in to see that their offspring didn't perish, but still… wouldn't it have been nice to have ripped her throat out and never worried about her showing up again?
The thought flashed across his shocked mind and was gone before he could make much sense out of it. He stopped dead in his tracks, coming to such a hard stop that he lost his footing and fell to his side, knocking the wind right out of him. Dazedly, he shook his head and tried to rise, falling back weakly as waves of vertigo swept over him, alternating with chills that left him shivering as if out in a freezing rain.
Again, he saw that ginger colored paw in front of his face, mesmerizing him and turning his thoughts inside out. Things he'd never even allowed himself to contemplate flooded his confused intellect, twisting and turning his reason to something wild and foreign. He lay there on the sidewalk, panting in desperation as the savage urges swept through his skull; it was almost as if they were trying to warp his essential sense of self.
Closer and closer, that clawed forefoot came closer to him, as if to tear his sanity away from him and replace it with something else; something ruthless and evil. As if some entity were trying to substitute his inner self with a twisted version of what he knew himself to be. It was getting harder to hold on through the assaults on his psyche but he had to hold on, or lose control to whatever was attempting to dislodge his soul from the body that housed it and make of it a puppet that wore his fur and spoke with his voice.
Suddenly, he was violently ill and retched in vicious spasms that felt as if he were be pulled inside out. He let out a cry of pain and lights seemed to sear across his eyes, even though they were tightly closed against the spinning of the world around him. Vaguely, he heard a hissing voice speak right in his ear before another one called his name and he passed out with relief. "I'll have my way yet, Munkustrap, I always win in the end. I'll have you where I want you and you'll wish I'd killed you before it's over."
When the Tugger reached the other Jellicle's side, he was alarmed to see the lines of pain that were gouged deep into his muzzle and the spasms which still shook his frame. He'd spotted him from a block away and thought it strange that he'd just flop onto the walkway like that, it wasn't the normally dignified cat's style. Then the shaking and mewling cries had started and his surprise had turned to fear at what he heard coming from the other tom's throat.
The feline he'd been walking with came up more slowly, keeping his distance until he was sure of what was going on. He sniffed the downed tom and his nose wrinkled in disgust. Looking at the Tugger, he said, "It looks like Munkustrap but he doesn't smell quite right. Wait, now it's alright but for a minute there he smelled like Macavity. Why?"
"Could be the fact that they were in a fight, maybe? What does it matter? He needs help. He's sick and I don't have any clue what to do with him. How about you?" The fuzzy cat regarded his companion quizzically and waited for an answer.
"Maybe we should drag him to one of the queens, they'd know what to do for him. It's going to take both of us, he's not a wimp. I mean, he's got muscle to him and it ain't going to be easy for either of us, but we can't just leave him here."
"Alonzo, how would you suggest we drag his furry gray butt around?" Tugger demanded and stopped short when the stricken tom's eyes fluttered open, coming to rest upon them blearily before he tried to rise weakly.
"Don't… don't bother," the gray tabby whispered through a tight throat. "I can make.. make it home." He took a couple of unsteady steps forward, almost crashing into the other two cats before he losing his footing and going down again.
"Shut up and let us decide what to do for you," Tugger snapped at him, his ears going back flat against his head at what seemed reckless behavior from the normally sensible cat at his feet. Examining him closely, he saw a gouge in Munkustrap's right side slowly trickling blood and that made his mind up for him then and there.
His eyes met those of Alonzo's and he jerked his maned head to one side, indicating that he wanted a private bit of speech with him. When the other came close, Tugger led him off to the side and quietly he said, "I don't think he's going to be fit to go far. If one of us walked on either side of him, we could get him to Jenny or Jelly, depends on who's closer."
"Jenny said she was going to hang around the Junkyard, try to get the mice there to take better care of their nests and quit chewing on the car upholstery. She's the closest to us," the younger cat told him.
"Leave her to come up with something like that,"he laughed and shook his head. He sobered when he saw the wounded cat trying to rise once again and they quickly stepped to either side of him, ignoring the weak snarl that came from his throat when they drew close. His eyes weren't focused properly, he seemed to regard them from a distance that he couldn't overcome.
Slowly, they began to walk the hurt deputy leader of their clan back to the meeting place of the night before, trying to ignore the hisses of pain that he let out now and again. Blood began to flow a bit more freely and the skin under the soft fur began to grow hot with fever even as the body began to shake with cold, despite the fact that it was shaping up to be a fine, sunny day around them.
Suddenly, Munkustrap's legs gave way and he collapsed into a heap just a block from the Junkyard. "Just go away, leave me alone. GO!" he cried out as loudly as he could. With a fierce movement, he swept his head from side to side as if trying to shake something away from him. They were unprepared for the savage upward movement of the battered gray form as he lurched to his feet and lunged forward, toward the wheels of a car that was passing them.
Tugger darted after him catching hold of his friend's tail between his teeth and he sat down hard, his weight a drag against the forward motion of the oddly suicidal cat. Munkustrap lost his momentum and his feet went out from under him, causing his chin to strike the cement with a hollow sounding thud. The car screeched to one side and from the open window came the sound of cursing as the vehicle went past.
Tugger let go of the appendage and spat out fur, complaining, "What in the hell was that all about, you furry gray maniac? Well, what have you got to say for yourself?"
When he got no answer, he went to Munkustrap's head and shouted, "What are you trying to do, you bloody idiot?!" Working himself into a near fury, he stopped cold when he saw that the other's side barely rose and fell as he breathed. A shallow whisper came from the mouth of the nearly unconscious cat, saying over and over, "You won't win. I won't let you."
Puzzled, the maned cat looked at Alonzo and snapped, "Go get Jenny, I think this may be pretty serious!"
The young tom looked at him in confusion, he had been shocked by the sudden urge to self-destruction that Munkustrap had just displayed and could barely take in what Tugger was saying. Finally it penetrated his numb brain and he scampered off to find the Gumbie cat.
Tugger leaned down to rub his head against Munkustrap's, but he stopped when an odd scent hit his nostrils. It wasn't quite the other tom's scent but it faded away before he could quite pin it down and the only smell remaining was of blood and the normal scent of the wounded cat. He was so intent upon observing his unconscious friend that he jumped backwards a full four feet when the other's eyes flew open and the green eyes seemed to blaze for just a moment with pure madness.
With a groan, he tried to rise but fell back when the Tugger tapped him with a gentle paw. "Stay put until we can get help to move you. What in the name of the Heaviside have you been up to now?"
"I have no idea. Right now I just want to curl up and die; I feel horrible. Almost the way I think that calico felt when he drank that radiator fluid the neighbor spilled in the drive last winter. I think I'm losing my mind," he said in a ragged whisper, closing his eyes briefly.
Before the other had a chance to question him about that remark, Jenny and Alonzo came bounding up, followed closely by Jellylorum and Skimbleshanks. The railway cat trailed a torn piece of canvas behind him, which he laid down beside the prone form of the stricken cat. Silently, they worked to roll him onto the fabric and once he was securely upon it, they each picked up a corner in their mouths and dragged him the rest of the way to the Junkyard and well under cover, where he could be examined safely.
Constant shivers struck him and he shook without letup, not even aware of what was going on around him as evil whispers floated through his dreams. Mad laughter whipped at him from all sides as he desperately tried to pinpoint the source so he could lunge at it and make it stop the mental torment. Small gasps came from his mouth as he panted in his faltering hope to keep hold of his sanity.
Jenny stroked her head against his, feeling the fever that was raging in his body. "We need water, he's parched. Has anyone else noticed that he doesn't smell quite, I don't know, like himself? Almost like someone else is wearing his fur?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Skimbleshanks and said, "I want Mr. Mistoffolees here and I want him here now. Maybe he can pin down what seems wrong. It's not just his wounds, it's his mind I think."
Tugger looked at her sharply and then regarded the face of his friend. Even though he was unaware of the world around him, his eyes were slitted open and they glittered with a mad glare which burned like the embers in the fireplace Tugger liked to lay in front of when there was no one else around. He shuddered and turned away.
A keening cry cut the air, freezing all of them for a moment and then Munkustrap threw himself to his feet, making for the door with all the energy of a hyperactive kitten. He was gone before any of them could catch him and they followed as soon as they recovered. There was no trace of him on the ground except for tiny red spots of blood that led upward, toward the jagged glass and metal of an old auto.
Munkustrap saw nothing in front of him but a leering face, grinning it's triumph as it came closer and closer to his own, trying to become his own. Ginger fur with odd stripes began to intermingle with gray and black and his sense of identity began to slide away. Acting on instinct, he swung up from the resting place the others had brought him to and he moved out of the doorway as fast as he could, before anyone could stop him.
Not pausing to think, he went on blind instinct, clambering up the pile of jagged metal and glass, some of it with edges as sharp as a human's razor and just as capable of as much damage to the unwary foot or body that struck it. Reaching the top, he looked down and saw the others searching for him. Making up his mind swiftly, he gathered himself to leap and was about to hurl himself into the empty space in front of him when a soft voice stopped him.
"Munkustrap, no. There has to be another way," came the quiet voice of the magical cat in his ears.
Violently, the older tom swept his head around and saw the smaller cat on a pile of refuse near his own precarious perch. His vision started to blur and once again he saw that damn paw in front of his face, sapping his will, making him sluggish. His legs began to tremble and he felt the last of his reason begin to slip away. Near defeat, he whispered, "You don't understand, it's got to be this way if I'm going to be rid of.. of.." His voice choked off and then he howled to those listening, "He's in my head!! He's taking over and I can't stop him!! He's in my head!!!"
Sudden comprehension struck Mistoffolees and he knew what Munkustrap meant. Somehow, the fiend had escaped the total destruction of his physical body and his mental essence was trying to overcome that of the strongest tom that he could find. The strongest Jellicle tom he could find. And Munkustrap was determined to die before he would let that happen. Somehow, the ginger had mesmerized the gray during their battle; he'd noticed that Munkustrap hadn't been quite up to par and had wondered why.
Now his questions had been answered, but was it too late? He lifted his black muzzle into the air and sniffed at it, trying to catch the other's scent on the slight breeze which was blowing. Catching it, his lips pulled back in a silent grimace. It smelled mostly like Macavity by now, with very little of Munkustrap left. Come to think of it, the coat of fur was beginning to show distinct overtones of ginger color and was becoming longer.
Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face for Munkustrap to see, for he threw back his head and laughed; a chilling, haunting sound that echoed around the Junkyard. Abruptly, it cut off and the battered body leapt into the empty space in front of it. Limply, it plunged straight toward a spike of tattered metal that stood upright in the bright sunlight.
In vain, the cats on the ground waited for Munkustrap to twist around in midair and orient himself for a safe landing away from the spire of death that he was headed for. The eyes in the battered head were sealed and not a muscle moved in the lifeless frame that was plunging down at a steadily accelerating pace.
A flash of black intercepted the form, bearing it away from the death which awaited just a scant foot away. The two of them landed in a heap, the gray tabby striking the ground with a force which made all of them wince in sympathy. A cloud of dust flew up from the pile of rags which Mistoffolees had hurled them towards but even so, the sound of the inert cat's body hitting the ground made them sick to their stomachs.
The black cat stood and shook himself, then moved to the other, sniffing his side deeply and letting out a sigh of relief. Looking at the others who waited silently, he said simply, "He's alive. He's still with us."
They kept a silent watch on him for the next few days, waiting for him to once again wake up and rejoin the world. The magical cat had told them about the battle Munkustrap had fought against the force which had tried to take over his own life and assured them that it had fled when Munkustrap had jumped from the top of the pile. Macavity hadn't counted on his victim's determination to live as himself or die before he gave in to the evil which was trying to invade his soul.
When it became clear how the gray would fight to keep his mind intact, the other had panicked and deserted his quarry, only to perish once and for all now that there was no other in a sufficiently weakened state to receive him. As proof of this, the ginger had faded away from the gray fur and Munkustrap's scent was once again purely his own.
It was late into the night and the waning moon, just shy of full, shone down upon the gray tabby and his fur shone like molten silver and blackest onyx when he awoke. Slowly, his eyes opened and muzzily, he made out the form of an old gray cat sitting in front of him, with a look of compassion on his face. Beside the ancient tom, a smaller black tom was regarding him carefully, as if to make sure that all alien traces had been wiped away.
Weakly, Munkustrap stretched and let out a hiss of pain when a bruised place voiced its complaint about being disturbed. He yawned and then the memory of what had gone before hit him and he looked around him in horror, afraid of what else would greet his gaze.
Old Deuteronomy held out a forepaw to soothe him, but his son drew back in fear, afraid to trust anyone. The father's face sagged in hurt but he buried it deep and come forward, brushing up against his confused offspring. That contact more than anything else calmed the uncertainty the younger was feeling and a slight purr built up in his throat, vibrating his battered chest. It hurt, but what the hell, he figured, it seemed as if the worst was over.
Turning to the black cat who had kept his seat, he asked softly, "How did you know?" He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, knowing how close he'd come to losing his life if the other hadn't picked up the true meaning of what he had meant to do.
He'd been too weak to fight much more but had gambled that faced with the reality of losing the body he had hoped to live through, Macavity would prove his cowardice and bail out, leaving his victim to perish on his own. It had worked but if Mistoffolees hadn't been able to read what was going on, he, Munkustrap, would have made good his promise to himself and died rather than let that monster in feline form have his life.
"Let's just say, it's one of my talents, shall we?" the mysterious black cat said to him. "I just knew. And I couldn't let my brother go that way, now could I?" He then gave Old Deuteronomy a sly look and a wink, then got up and stretched out. "Take it easy for the next week or so, otherwise Jenny will have your hide for a napping pillow. Scared the lot of them, but now they know what was going on. You'll recover, in time."
Silently, he then walked away and melted into the shadows, leaving the other two cats alone. "That was a stupid thing to do, get so close to that fiend," the father observed.
"If I hadn't, Demeter might be dead by now and we may never have gotten you back. The ends justified the means and you've always taught me to defend my clan," Munkustrap reminded him quietly.
"Yes, I did and I'm proud of you. You've proven to be strong in mind as well as body. You are indeed my son. Come, let's go back to the vicarage, I think there's some Straussburg pie we can share," the elder urged the younger.
"What, no caviar?? Cheap joint," the younger one grumbled and then laughed softly when his father turned a stern eye upon him.
Shaking his head, the elder then bumped his son to one side, making sure not to catch his sorest spot. The son pounced just as gently upon his father's tail, leaping off and running a bit ahead of him, making it a gentle game of tag all the way to the ancient feline's home, where a supper waited for them. After eating, they both settled down in front of the embers of a fire and slept dreamlessly, except for one in which Munkustrap saw his nemesis falling through an endless void, spinning about and screaming. The sight was enough to set him to smiling in his sleep and the smile was still there when he woke the next morning.
end
