Death

Munkustrap thundered across the sands of the ocean shore. Hot breezes blew against his face, ruffling his glossy silver-gray fur. His mind and body were in perfect tune with everything around him: each grain of sand he plowed over, each pound of the waves against the beach, each leap he took next to the female at his side.

Munkustrap and Demeter knew nothing but each other as they ran across the rolling sand dunes, paws clasped, laughing from sheer joy at their company. The sun beat down on the two as they crested a sandy hill, warming the air and the cats. They collapsed as they reached the bottom. Munkustrap landed gracefully on his back, clutching Demeter to him tightly. Mere words couldn't describe the happiness he felt at Demeter's smile, the scent of her so close, the feel of her silky fur, and the look in her eyes as she gazed at him lovingly. Slowly, he leaned forward and closed his eyes to kiss her.

The sky darkened to black. Thunder vibrated the ground. Lightening illuminated the area. Startled, Munkustrap sat up. The surf rolled in roughly, crested with white foam, a tide the color of blood covering the ground. Demeter jumped away from him, as though frightened, and turned her back. Munkustrap frowned in confusion and reached out for her shoulders. At the mere brush of him against her, she screamed and recoiled. Her eyes turned back to meet his. Slowly, hugging her arms tightly around her, Demeter backed away from him and vanished into the darkness. He was alone.

Munkustrap's breath ran ragged and shallow, fear creeping like a stalking tiger into his heart. The sand of the dunes slowly turned red, as though a vile stain spreading from some open wound. His whole body trembled as he inched his eyes down. His paws were covered in blood, and in one hand he held a sharp glass shard. All around him, Macavity's maniacal laughter blended with the thunder, drowning out all he could hear.

The full moon shone cold and uncaring down on Munkustrap where he lay on his newspaper stack in the junkyard, trying to get control of his racing heart and raspy breathing as the remnants of the dream played back in his mind. He tried to sit up, but he was too stiff.

Arthritis, Coricopat and Tantomile had called it. Munkustrap had been complaining of pains in his joints; that it was getting harder to run and simply get up. They said he had arthritis, something that affected older cats.

Older cats... Munkustrap knew it then. He was old. He knew it, and he knew the other Jellicles did as well. His coat, once thick and glossy of a young, powerful Jellicle leader, was now thin and shabby; coarse to the touch. Much of the fur around his whiskers, chin, and forehead had turned white with age. There was a puddle of rainwater soaking the bottom of the newspapers, and Munkustrap looked at his reflection in it. He snarled at his ancient appearance and jerked his head away. He sighed, and painfully stretched out full length. He was grateful Demeter would never be able to see him like this. Demeter...

Munkustrap blinked back tears as happy memories of his long dead mate resurfaced in his mind, bringing to life thoughts and emotions he thought he'd buried long ago. It was an eternity past, on a much similar night, when Demeter was taken from him...killed by Munkustrap's own brother.

Killed by me.

The words rose from the depths of his mind, involuntarily, yet he knew the truth in them.

Why? Munkustrap dug his claws into the soft newspapers as his mind screamed angrily. Why Demeter? Why did she have to die? Why couldn't it have been me? Why couldn't I have died and let Demeter live out a long life with our kitten?

Munkustrap's mind seemed to relax a moment as his only daughter's beautiful form danced into his mind. Her silver-striped fur, from which came Munkustrap's pet name for her: "Silver Tigress", and her brilliant blue eyes chased away the anger. Whenever Munkustrap had been troubled, whether over the tribe or over Demeter, he could always look into those comforting eyes of Demetria and his pain would disappear. But Munkustrap was worried. He felt that he and Demetria were growing apart; that she didn't need him anymore since she was an adult now.

Munkustrap buried his face in his folded arms and wept quietly. He'd been doing this more and more often since Demeter had died. He would sit up all night, or wander the dark city streets, tears streaming down his cheeks. All too often he found himself in that dark alley where so much blood was shed that cursed night. Munkustrap felt certain there was no need for him to live anymore.

Could he do it, he wondered. Could he kill himself? There was nowhere he could turn. There was no way to go on. Death was the only answer.

As if the Everlasting Cat had willed it, Munkustrap's eyes landed on a shard of sharp glass lying near the stack of newspapers, shining bright as the moonlight reflected from it. Slowly, though possessing its own life, his paw ventured out and closed around the edge of it. A glass shard: the same weapon that took away his Demeter. Munkustrap turned the shard in his paws, watching the moonlight reflect from it in pale shafts; shafts that could sear through flesh if they wanted to. It felt cold as death.

It would be so easy, he told himself. So easy to sheath the shard deep in his chest or across his throat and end all his pain and suffering right now. Did he have the strength?

Munkustrap pressed the shard to his chest, feeling the sharp tip prick through his fur. All it would take would be one shove, one push, then it would all be over. No more pain. No more suffering. No more living. Munkustrap took a deep breath, and prepared to kill himself.

"Dad?"

A soft, delicate voice behind Munkustrap halted his paw; halted the shard. Slowly, Munkustrap turned to the voice's owner. Standing there, bathed in the moonlight, more beautiful than Bastet herself, was Demetria. Munkustrap gasped and absent-mindedly dropped the shard. It landed in the dirt, gleaming like a silver arrow. Demetria took a slow step forward, face filled with concern.

"Dad?" she asked again. "Are you alright?"

Munkustrap stared at her a moment, marveling once again at how much she resembled Demeter, and her coloring him. He turned his face away, hiding the falling tears. "I'm fine, Silver," he said, voice cracking with the emotion he'd just put himself through.

Demetria slowly approached her father, extending a paw to rest on his shoulder. Her bright blue eyes fell to the gleaming shard of glass in the dirt, studied it, then rose back to Munkustrap. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing," he said, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. "I'm fine, Dem."

Demetria had been knowledgeable of her father's feelings for quite some time, and remained unconvinced by his excuse. She walked around him so that they were facing.

"Have you been crying?"

Munkustrap sniffed again. "No," he whimpered, just above a whisper. Demetria lifted his chin and brought his face to hers, their eyes locking.

"Yes you were," she said evenly. Munkustrap looked into her blue eyes, searching for the familiar comfort he often found there....or used to find there. He searched hard, but could find nothing. Nothing at all. Her eyes were so pure and innocent, he felt ashamed to look at them. He tore his gaze from hers and back to the ground. He shouldn't look at her, it might taint her purity with all the blood he had covered his paws with over the years. She shouldn't be anywhere near him. Munkustrap stood to his feet and took a few steps away from her with aching sluggishness.

"I said I'm fine," he repeated, just barely audible. He listened for an answer behind him, but instead heard another voice.

"What were you doing with that glass shard?" it said, deeper and tougher, obviously a tom. Munkustrap turned back to face Demetria, and saw standing beside her his best friend Alonzo. The gray tabby's eyes dropped to the ground where the shard lay, as did theirs. Munkustrap gently bent over and picked it up, turning it in his paws.

"Nothing," he eventually mumbled. Alonzo and Demetria exchanged concerned glances. Alonzo approached him slowly. He was also aware of how Munkustrap had been feeling, and the fact the tabby was handling a glass shard he didn't like.

"Strap?" he said quietly. "You were doing somethin', now what was it?"

Munkustrap surprised the big tom by whirling around and snarling terribly, his fangs bared and his eyes blazing. He shouted in an angry voice.

"I said nothing! Can't you take that as an answer and leave an old cat to die in peace?"

Demetria stood forward to join Alonzo. "Die? Dad, what are you talking about?"

"I know what he's talking about," Alonzo growled, snatching the shard from Munkustrap and holding it out to Demetria. "Look, there's gray hairs on this. Strap," he looked worriedly at his friend, "you weren't trying to kill yourself, were you?"

Munkustrap backed away from the two, growling. "It's none of your concern."

This time Demetria stood forward, a stern look in her face. "Yes it is. You're my father and his best friend...it's every bit our concern. Why would you want to kill yourself?"

Munkustrap said nothing and stared at the ground. Demetria's words fell on numb ears as Munkustrap backed away more toward the junkyard gates. He slowly shook his head.

"Strap," Alonzo attempted to pursuade him further, "if you kill yourself, what'll the tribe do? No, there are no 'ifs'. You can't kill yourself! The entire tribe...me, my family, your daughter...we all depend on you."

"But why?" Munkustrap asked, as if a naive kitten. "Why would the entire tribe depend on me?"

Demetria slowly walked toward him. "Because we all love you."

Alonzo followed her, saying in a more aggressive voice. "I know you miss Demeter, Strap, but this is not the way to handle things!" He tossed the glass shard angrily away into the junkyard.

Munkustrap's face remained dormant of any emotion as he stared at the ground to the side. "Alright," he said finally, barely audible. "I won't kill myself. But will you help me stop this pain?"

Alonzo nodded eagerly, taking another step forward. "Of course. What d'you want me to do?"

Without warning, Munkustrap leaped forward and slashed at Alonzo's face. The brawny tom dodged backward just in time to avoid the tabby's claws.

"What're you doing?" Demetria screamed. Munkustrap ignored her and advanced at Alonzo.

"Munkustrap!" Alonzo yelled. "Stop! I'm yer friend!"

"Then as my friend, help me stop my pain!" Munkustrap snarled. "You said you would! Defend yourself! Kill me!" He attacked again.

Alonzo ducked and dodged as best he could, but Munkustrap seemed determined to die, and take Alonzo with him if necessary. Being much more agile than Munkustrap because of his slightly younger age, Alonzo dove low and kicked the tabby's feet from under him. He landed on his back, Alonzo sitting on his chest to keep him down.

"Munkustrap," Alonzo panted. "Look at me." His voice was calm, amazingly calm for what Munkustrap had just done. Munkustrap slowly turned his golden eyes up to his friend.

Smack!

The tabby then received a hard back-paw slap across the face. Alonzo leaned close to him and hissed. "Look Munkustrap! You think you're the first tom to lose someone?! Life is loss! You pick up and you move on! Think about the tribe! Think about yer daughter!" he all but screamed into Munkustrap's face. Panting, he was pulled off by Demetria, who glared at him accusingly. Munkustrap, free of the burden, pulled himself up to sit and stared at the ground.

"Dad," Demetria sat next to him and spoke softly, brushing loose strands of fur from his face. "It's alright. You miss Mom, no doubt about that, but what d'you think she would say if she could see you now? Tearing yourself up over her? You know she wouldn't want that. She would tell you to pull yourself together and get on with your life, and not to dwell in the past."

Once again, Munkustrap looked up into her face, their eyes locking. What she said was no doubt true, but why didn't it feel that way? Munkustrap reached up to grasp her paw.

"Argh!"

Completely out of nowhere an intense pressure hit his chest like a bullet, making Munkustrap fall to his knees. He gasped and panted, but couldn't breathe. His entire chest tightened and the pressure felt like it would explode any minute.

Demetria knelt beside her father as Alonzo rushed forward. Munkustrap rasped violently as Demetria pounded on his back, thinking her father was choking, then realizing it was something else. She yelled up at Alonzo.

"Go get help! Quick!"

Alonzo hadn't the faintest idea of what was going on, but did what she said. Demetria squeezed her father's shoulders, knowing there was nothing she could do for him now except be there. "Hold on, Dad," she said comfortingly. "Hold on."

Munkustrap's chest felt about to burst when he heard his daughter's soothing voice. He looked up at her, but the image was distorted and fuzzy. He doubled up again and felt himself faintly cough, flecks of blood coming from his mouth. He heard Demetria's faint voice, then his vision faded into a black haze and he fell into a merciful, silent darkness.

Skimbleshanks lay dozing in the moonlight, stretched full length on a large tire resting on its side. His sides rose and fell lazily, ruffling his scruffy fur as the night seabreeze blew.

"You look so handsome," said a voice. "Fur long and silver like that."

Skimble's eyes opened slightly, and he smiled as his mate Jellylorum slid down beside him. Skimble hadn't thought much about his age, and though he'd given up train traveling to remain with his family in his golden years, he refused to let it damper his mood. To spend the rest of his life alongside his mate was too much to be enjoyed for thoughts of aging to ruin it. In fact, the bits of his fur that had turned silver-gray due to age he actually thought off-set his orange and brown stripes perfectly, giving his scruffy coat a unique look.

"Aye, Jell. An' ye haven't changed a bit since I first laid eyes on ye."

Jellylorum giggled and gently tweaked his ear. "You old flatterer." She rubbed her head against his, snuggling close and sighed wistfully. "I only wish we had a nice lot of kittens still running around. The tribe seems to have slowed down."

"That, or we're th' ones slowin' down," Skimble chuckled good-naturedly. He snuggled and set his chin between Jellylorum's ears. "But I imagine a few kits'd keep us on our toes." He flattened his ears with an idea. "Y'know, I was thinkin'--"

"JELLY!!"

Skimble and Jellylorum jumped from each other's side as a dark, lanky form suddenly bounded over the tire and shouted. Jellylorum gasped.

"Asparagus?" she asked. Her brother hastily shook his head, panting heavily.

"Munkustrap...(pant)...awful! (gasp) Come quick...(pant)!" And he dashed away again. Skimble's eyes met his mate's, and they followed as quick as they could.

A small den in the junkyard, used in emergencies as a sort of nursery and infirmary, was well lit inside. Even from a distance Skimble could see several cats were gathered there. Young Asparagus's words suddenly became horrifyingly real as a sense of dread swept over the Railway Cat. He quickened his pace and bounded into it unannounced, nearly knocking over a grown Pouncival who stood near the entrance. He pushed his way through the gathered cats to the center of attention: a small pile of blankets in the corner. Jellylorum reached his side and gasped as she saw, lying on his side over the blankets, the limp form of Munkustrap. His eyes were shut, his breathing short and shallow, sides barely rising. Crouched near the prone tabby, tears in her eyes, Demetria held her father's paw tight, watching him loyally. Jennyanydots kept her face turned from the other cats and sat opposite her, dipping a cloth into a dish of water and wringing it out. Her quiet sniffling was all that could be heard in the silence.

"What happened?" Skimble finally asked, surprised at how calm his voice emitted.

Demetria wiped at her eyes, but never took her gaze from her father as she answered. "He's..." she nearly choked off in sorrow. "He's dying."

Skimble's breath froze in his throat. Dying? Munkustrap...dying?

"Why?" Jellylorum ventured to continue, squeezing Skimble's shoulder for comfort. Demetria shook her head and said nothing.

"His heart," Jenny said through a sob. "It's just...quitting on him." She broke down, and turned to bury her face into her oldest son, Alonzo's, fur as he gently put his arms around her. The room was reigned by silence, the only sound being the quiet sobbing of the cats. The silence was physically felt, like a jungle to be hacked through. Even the Rum Tum Tugger, who stood near the back, bit his lip to keep the tears from flowing.

Munkustrap's breathing was laborious now, and getting more and more difficult. His eyes remained shut as he slowly, stiffly shifted his position. Demetria's ears stood forward, encouraged by her father's movement, hoping he would wake. She felt Munkustrap gently squeeze her paw. She squeezed back, smiling in sorrow as his eyes opened just slightly. He relaxed, and for a moment seemed to breathe easier.

"Dem," he rasped, so quiet Demetria almost couldn't hear him. "...Demeter..."

Munkustrap held his breath. The room seemed to follow his manner, and for a long moment everything was still. After an eternity, Munkustrap exhaled, and breathed no more.

The sun just broke over the horizon, as did the Jellicles' sorrow. Tears streamed down Demetria's cheeks unheeded as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on Munkustrap's forehead.

"Goodbye, father."

Slowly, one by one, the cats who witnessed the death of their leader turned to leave. Outside, the breaking sun rose, painting the sky shades of lightening blue and gold. The sun evaporated the morning dew on the grass, but nothing...nothing...could evaporate the memory of the everlasting cat Munkustrap.

THE END