Disclaimer: This applies for all chapters, and I'm only saying this once: I don't own Cats!
A/N: Hello, I am back with another fanfic! I decided I wanted to give Mistoria another shot. After finishing The Calico Criminal, I thought I had developed my writing skills enough to be able to do this marvelous pair of Victoria and Mistofelees some justice. Yes, I know we've all seen this type of fic, but I want to go into more detail and add some more drama to mine. Please note that the beginning takes place before Misto reaches the junkyard and is still in Macavity's clutches. Also, Alonzo is Misto's brother in this fic. Don't forget to leave a review, and enjoy! Warning: there is profanity and violence in this chapter.
"You pathetic waste of a tom! How could I have ever conceived the idea that you might be able to take over my organization? You're weak, spineless, and even my worst henchcat can take you down! At least your brother has some kind of skill to hone, but you; you have nothing!" A terrified fifteen-year old Mistofelees heard his father, Macavity, yell at his son and potential heir, Alonzo. Father and son were outside the cold, dank room that served as Mistofelees' and Alonzo's bedroom, but was really just a modified storage closet. Even though the heavy metal door that separated Misto from the rest of his family was closed, he could hear his father's shouting as though the door wasn't even there.
Poor Alonzo was around seventeen, but wasn't considered an adult until eighteen, when most toms become sexually mature. Macavity had been training him to be able to take over his organization in his old age, which only had one goal: Make life a living hell for every other cat in London. Alonzo's father was The Hidden Paw, you see. The Napoleon of Crime, Macavity the Mystery Cat. He was the most notorious criminal London had ever seen in human or animal. Macavity was a tall, lean ginger tom with an insatiable thirst for crime and violence. He also had one trait that rarely any other cat possessed: he was a magical cat, able to conjure anything you could imagine, and even communicate telepathically or do other inconceivable things to someone's mind.
Macavity had once been a respected member of a tribe of cats known as the Jellicles, but had gotten exiled from said tribe after he had lost control of his magical abilities and tried to rape his queenfriend, a black and gold queen named Demeter. He had started his own gang, turned to alcohol and drugs, and committed a string of crimes almost immediately afterwards, which quickly grew into the organization and notorious reputation we know today. The ginger tom had taken a mate during his rise to power, but murdered her in a drunken rage not long after the birth of his second son, Mistofelees, who was also a Conjurer like his father.
The two teenaged toms lived in their father's abandoned warehouse that he used as a hideout. Macavity forced his sons to learn the art of combat, stealing, and murder as they grew up, and didn't care in the least whether they liked it or not. All he needed was to train one of them so that he could pass on command of the organization to that offspring one day. He treated his sons like slaves, making them train from dawn until dusk, and forcing them to sleep in a dingy, windowless, unsanitary room that he never bothered to lock. The two toms slept on straw mats with no blankets for when it got cold, or even to make a proper nest with. Alonzo had once asked for a blanket to keep him and his brother warm during a bitterly freezing winter night, but Macavity just shot him down with a sarcastic, "Oh dear, Alonzo can't handle a bit of cold? Toughen up! You're my son, not a prissy queen!" Misto and his older sibling huddled together for warmth that night, but come morning he had to get the cat doctor that was hired for Macavity because Alonzo wouldn't wake up and his paws and lips were a worrying shade of blue. The doctor diagnosed him with hypothermia and quickly warmed him up with a blanket and some hot water bottles. Of course, Macavity didn't even give his elder son a second glance.
Now with The Hidden Paw cleared up, let's move on to his sons, which we have already briefly encountered. Alonzo, as we know, is the older one at seventeen years of age. His coat is composed of black and white patches, and he takes after his father in terms of inheriting his lean and tall body. Alonzo was also quite the flirt like his father, having a talent for making the henchcat queens and prisoners alike swoon, but never dared take advantage of them. The patched tom was very kind and polite for a son of The Hidden Paw, and preferred to make friends with his father's subordinates. Many were around his age and were great friends with him.
Mistofelees was a little different. He was also black and white, but his coat had more of a tuxedoed pattern. His chest, face, and paws were white while the rest of him was black as charcoal. As we already mentioned, he was a magical cat, but his powers were leagues away from being mastered like his father's. Misto couldn't even shoot a bolt of magic from his paw, let alone control someone's mind with his magic. The tuxedoed tom was...petit for his age, and was more scrawny than lean. He was barely competent in a combat situation, and couldn't throw a dagger at a target for the life of him. He was meek and shy, but very polite like Alonzo. The henchcats poked fun at him constantly because his fur shimmered as a side-effect of being magic, and Misto never set foot outside his shared room unless absolutely necessary.
We will resume where we had left off. It was well after midnight, but Mistofelees still wasn't asleep. He couldn't get to sleep without his brother there to protect and comfort him. Alonzo had just finished another brutal training session with some of the more inexperienced henchcats, and his father was giving him his opinion on it. As we have seen beforehand, there wasn't anything he liked about his son's efforts. Macavity never praised his sons, and it was doubted he ever would.
The heavy door to the young toms' room was suddenly pulled open and light from the hallway flooded the tiny room, illuminating the true poverty-like conditions Alonzo and Misto lived in. Misto shielded his sensitive ochre eyes from the blinding light as he huddled closer to the brick wall. As soon as the light came, it was gone as the door slammed shut and he could hear heavy panting envelop the otherwise silent dwelling. He waited for his brother's breathing to calm before peeking out from behind his arm to observe the patched tom on all-fours, struggling to keep himself from dropping to the floor. A shudder rippled throughout his conditioned body, which suggested he was exhausted and in pain.
"How'd it go, 'Lonzy?" The tuxedoed tom-kit peeped quietly in his broken soprano voice. Being an adolescent, Misto's voice was already breaking and beginning to deepen from a queen-like soprano to a young tom's tenor.
The elder patched tom chuckled mirthlessly as he spat a couple times. Using his well-adjusted night-vision, Mistofelees could tell it wasn't saliva that his brother had hacked up, but blood. Alonzo flashed his icy blue eyes towards his brother and his gaze immediately softened. "The usual…painful, brutal, and shitty. I fu-"He gave the younger tom a lopsided grin and corrected himself, "I mean I friggin' hate Dad." Alonzo had to constantly remind himself that he shouldn't use extreme profanity in front of his kid brother. Life was already miserable enough for them, and he didn't want to scar Misto's somewhat virgin ears.
Mistofelees frowned and nodded. It was always the same result. Dad was never satisfied with his son's work in the training rooms, and never thought twice about mercilessly shooting him down with verbal insults in front of the henchcats. Both toms hated their father with a vengeance. Misto crawled over to his bed on the opposite side of the room and curled up, watching his brother from behind his foreleg. Alonzo slowly ambled over to his own bed and plopped himself down on his stomach, groaning in pain. He turned his head to face Misto with closed eyes and tentatively attempted to relax his aching muscles with great difficulty.
The tuxedoed tom felt a pang of pity in his heart for his brother. Macavity worked the patched tom the hardest out of the both of them because he was older and significantly stronger. Alonzo's hind claws scraped the concrete floor as he gingerly brought his legs forward to curl up like Misto. Even in this new position, his hind legs still extended over the edge of the straw mattress and rested on the dingy floor. Alonzo had outgrown his bed years ago, but was never allowed the luxury of getting a bigger one.
A silence settled over the young brothers for a few minutes. Misto rolled over onto his back and straightened his hind legs. Only his toes reached the over the edge of the mat. He sighed and turned his head to gaze at his brother, who looked for all the world asleep. Misto knew better, however. Alonzo was slightly tensed and his breathing was not deep and even like that of a sleeping cat's. "…Alonzo?" The young tom-kit called softly.
Alonzo responded without opening his eyes, "Hmm? What?"
Mistofelees furrowed his brow as he gazed up at the dark ceiling of their room, fiddling with his paws. "What do you think the outside looks like?" He queried, lips pursed in thought. Although Macavity let his sons wander the hideout at will, he never let them outside. Wherever there were windows in the labyrinth of the warehouse, they were so high up that you could only see the sun and the sky, not the buildings down below. Neither tom knew what London actually looked like. They frequently daydreamed about how such a prosperous city might appear, and fantasized about the locations the henchcats always talked about, for instance the local bars or the Thames River.
This time Alonzo forced a blue eye open and sighed. "We've already been over this, 'Stoffy. I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but I can't. Now get some sleep, Dad's making you practice with him tomorrow. Goodnight." He gave a wide yawn and shut his eye, terminating anymore chance of discussion.
Alonzo's younger brother pouted, but turned over onto his side once more. "Goodnight…" He murmured, and fell into a fitful sleep. While he slept, the small tom dreamed of colourful streets and buildings with their names painted on them, as he had seen in the conference room whenever the henchcats left a road map out to study the route to their next mission location. Perhaps the streets of London were pristine, perfectly straight roads of any colour he could imagine, and the Thames was a crystal-clear blue that was as calm as a dish of undisturbed water? He smiled in his sleep, and his heart yearned to see this dream-like city of London instead of the mournful burgundy of the bricks that composed the hideout's walls.
Morning came, though Mistofelees could only tell it was morning because someone was roughly shaking him awake. The young tom-kit blinked his eyes open to see his father looming above him with a stone-cold countenance and forelegs crossed over his toned ginger chest.
"Wake up, Mistofelees. We have training to do." Macavity stated once he saw his son's ochre eyes open groggily. With that he left the room and strode down the hall, leaving the door open behind him. Misto glanced at Alonzo to see the patched tom was already up, stretching himself out for another day of torturous training. He smiled briefly at his brother, but it vanished as he winced when his triceps protested to being put to work again. He inclined his head in the direction of the hall.
The small tom sighed sadly as he passed by his brother, who placed an encouraging paw on his scrawny shoulder. Misto walked forward without acknowledging it and followed his father's disappearing form down the corridor. He hastily pounced on a rat along the way and ate it for breakfast. He rounded the corner at the end of the long hallway, not making eye contact with the much bigger toms and queens who shuffled out of their own rooms, which he knew weren't much better than his own. Macavity treated his henchcats like he treated his sons: poorly. The henchcats slept in barracks fit for cats, but took after the ones used by humans in the military. The barracks were cramped, dirty, and depressing. At least they slept on mattresses a step up from Misto's. They were composed of the cheapest foam available, with a covering that felt like hard leather. Alonzo would give anything to sleep on one of those, but Macavity never let either of his sons have one.
The henchcats themselves didn't care about Macavity's youngest son, but a few queens were always nice to him and were the closest thing Misto ever had to a mother figure. They would let him sit on their beds and tell him stories of London and missions whenever he felt bored enough to come out of his room and converse with someone when Alonzo was off training. Misto padded down the corridor, spotting his father standing at an open metal door around thirty feet away. He could never tell what his father was thinking just by looking at his face. Macavity never really showed many emotions besides impatience, sarcasm, and fury. When he wasn't expressing one of those, Misto could never read his face.
"What took you so long?" Macavity demanded as he gave his son a rough shove inside the training room and closed the door behind them. Misto stumbled forward onto all-fours and his father picked him up by the scruff of his neck, forcing him to stand. The room was quite simple: just four brick walls and a concrete floor with some punching bags hung up at one end from the ceiling.
The tuxedoed tom-kit gazed up at his father with fear and managed to stammer, "I-I hunted f-f-for br-breakfast, S-Sir." He yelped as Macavity hissed and struck him across the face. He didn't use his claws, though.
"Don't make me wait for you again." The Hidden Paw commanded in an eerily calm voice. He pushed his son backwards with one paw while booming just like he did last night, "You want to know what the outside is like, don't you? You want to see the real London, to feel the sun on your face and the wind in your fur?" Macavity had a habit of eavesdropping on his sons while they slept, and it was clear he didn't approve of what Alonzo and Misto had talked about the previous night.
Misto held his ground this time and nodded. He was used to getting put down every morning for his late-night conversations with his brother that he knew Macavity listened in on. "I want to see what the river looks like! I want to know what a bar is, and go have fun like your henchcats do!" He shot back, feeling anger boil up inside him. His answers were impudent and fit for a tom his age.
The Hidden Paw merely chuckled and smirked. "You're going to do no such thing, boy. You will live and die in this warehouse, just like your mother did. You are mine, and you will do as I say. I will not tolerate such foolish insolence from my heir! What do you have to say for yourself, boy?" Macavity aggressively harassed his son, thrusting him back with every phrase. Misto bared his teeth and braced himself for every blow, letting his fury towards his father envelop him more and more. His paws were tingling, but he didn't know why. Up until this point, Misto knew he was different, but never experienced any form of magical abilities in recent memory. He had absolutely no idea he was a Conjurer.
Finally, Mistofelees snapped. "Shut up!" He whimpered as angry tears stung his eyes, and instinctively clapped his paws together. The result was nothing like he had ever imagined. A bright flash of light erupted from his paws, and a resounding boom echoed throughout the hideout. Macavity and his son were on the second floor, and henchcats in the cafeteria on the first floor pricked their ears and glanced around, wondering where the strange sound had come from.
Misto collapsed onto his knees, suddenly exhausted and gasping for air. He glanced up to see his father wasn't in front of him, and that the door to the room had been demolished; the blackened metal slab that was the door had somehow been blown off its hinges and rested in a bent heap against the opposite brick wall. Many crumbled bricks lay scattered about it, giving a good indication of how strong the impact was.
The tuxedoed tom felt a paw grasp his shoulder and looked up to see his father smiling down at him. This confused the small tom even more than the fact he had just blown a 200-pound door into a wall. "Well done, Mistofelees! Your magic is much stronger than I first gave you credit for!" The ginger tom praised genuinely. He was considerably impressed by his son's power, although Misto had no inkling as to what had just happened.
"Wha-magic? I didn't know…" Mistofelees breathed, and then his world went black. Macavity caught his son before he could hit the concrete and gently picked him up in his arms. He carried his unconscious son back to his room and set him down on his straw mat. Macavity gazed at his youngest with something akin to pride, but it was hard to tell with his soulless, topaz eyes.
The Hidden Paw reached out to awkwardly stroke his son's black headfur a few times. "I may make something out of you yet, Mistofelees…" He murmured to the sleeping tom-kit before getting up and shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible. He strolled down the hall in deep thought, thinking back to the time when Misto was still but a tiny, helpless kitten, barely able to form coherent sentences. He remembered he was about to deal Misto's mother another blow and he felt a zap on his right hock. Turning around, he noticed the little kit huddled next to his patched toddler of a brother with smoking paws and wide eyes. Macavity smirked and continued beating his mate, but he was glad to know that one of his sons was magic.
For the next fourteen years, Misto hadn't shown any more signs of magic. Macavity tried numerous times to get him to release even the smallest spark, but to no avail. Today, at fifteen, he had created an explosion. Macavity saw his son in a new light now. He already started to contemplate different training regimes geared to magic instead of physical strength and endurance.
With this new notion in mind, he picked up the pace and decided to visit his other son, who was currently practising with firearms in the large storage space on the first floor, next to the cafeteria. Before we continue, it might help you to know now how Macavity's warehouse was set up.
There were two floors in this building: the top one you already figured out was used for training rooms and housed the henchcats, Macavity's offspring, but The Hidden Paw himself also had his chambers up here. The corridors essentially formed a square, with a staircase at one corner that led to the first floor, and another at the next corner that went up to the roof where sentries patrolled. On the first floor there was a cafeteria, an infirmary, Macavity's office, the jail cells, and a large storage space that was filled with stacks of supply crates. This storage area was deemed "the garage", and was also used as a target range for both archery and guns. There were two immense retractable doors at either end, but henchcats preferred to use the smaller, human-sized doors beside them to go in or out. A small room adjacent to the garage held an array of weapons from more primitive artillery like bows and arrows to modern weapons like pistols and mechanized crossbows.
Macavity climbed down the stairwell and walked down the hall that led to the garage. He heaved the heavy metal door open and stepped inside. What he saw pleased him. Alonzo, along with other henchcats, were shooting bullets at targets set up on the opposite end of the large room. They were chatting with each other as they each aimed a handgun and fired. Successive gunshots rang out, but couldn't be heard from out in the hall because each door in Macavity's hideout, save Misto's and Alonzo's, was soundproof. The ginger tom strode silently up behind his elder son and placed a paw on his shoulder. Alonzo started and looked up at his father's emotionless face with disdainful blue eyes. He never looked at his father any other way. The other henchcats fell silent as they took notice of their boss, but kept firing.
"Shoot." Macavity ordered his son.
Alonzo obliged and aimed his gun at one of the targets, pulled the trigger, and watched the bullet embed itself deep into the smallest white ring on the target, a few centimeters away from the red circle of the bullseye. He glared back up at his father for his verdict.
"Keep practicing. That's not good enough." The ginger tom advised and turned around to walk away.
The patched tom's hackles rose and a vicious hiss escaped through his lips. He spun on his heel and pointed the gun at Macavity's back. "It's never good enough for you, is it Dad?" He accused his father furiously.
Macavity stopped just as he reached a paw out to turn the handle on the door. He looked over his shoulder and asked placidly as if he had misheard his son, "What was that, Alonzo?"
If Alonzo ever acted out, these words were usually enough to put him in his place before any real trouble started. This time the patched tom had had enough of seventeen years of cruel treatment and Macavity had worn out his last nerve. "You heard me! I fucking bust my ass for you every day of the week and all I get is, 'That's not good enough' or 'Get it right next time'! I've had it, damn it! You treat me like I'm your slave, and Misto, too! We're your sons, but you don't give a shit about us!" His outburst ended with him snarling and the handgun trembling in his paws.
The Hidden Paw remained still and stony for one second, then two. He slowly pivoted on his foot and stepped closer to his son, eyes revealing nothing. When he was but a foot away, he yanked the gun out of Alonzo's paws with one paw and grabbed his neck with the other. Macavity held the firearm against his son's shoulder and lifted the struggling adolescent a few inches off the ground. The henchcats backed up against the wall for safety.
"You're right, son. You and your brother work yourselves too hard for me. Allow me to give you some time off." The ginger tom let a ghost of a smile grace his lips as Alonzo's eyes widened with horror. A smiling Macavity always meant something bad was going to happen. Macavity removed the gun from his son's shoulder and pointed it downwards. He pulled the trigger and hurled the patched tom across the floor as he screamed in agony and blood poured from his right hind foot. His expression didn't change as he watched his son writhe and cry out in anguish. The other henchcats moved in to help the wounded tom, but Macavity held up a paw to stop them. They glanced uncertainly from their leader to his son.
"If I see anyone helping Alonzo, save the doctor, they will suffer the same fate as him or worse. This is what happens when someone talks back to their superior. As you were." The ginger tom declared to his minions. He turned to his patched son. "I expect you back on your feet by next Monday, Alonzo." Macavity ordered and walked away without interruption this time. It was Sunday today, so Alonzo got his wish. He had a eight days of "rest" now.
Alonzo still seemed to have some fight left in him because before the door shut behind his father, he shouted after him, "I fucking hate you, Dad!" With that he focused on his profusely bleeding foot and tried to put pressure on the wound to help stop the bleeding.
Macavity merely brushed the harsh words off and continued on his way to his office. He had some important business papers to sign and negotiations to make in regards to a shipment of various ammunition and arrows for his arsenal. His henchcats used them up as quickly as they did booze.
Mistofelees woke up in the late night to see Alonzo in the corner on his straw mat, grooming himself. In the darkness Misto noticed his right hind paw was securely bandaged with thick gauze. The patched tom glanced up from his behind his outstretched left hock to smile kindly at his little brother.
Misto returned the smile with a concerned frown. "What happened to you, 'Lonzy?" He asked with a yawn. He was still tired from this morning, but was feeling much more rested now.
Alonzo shrugged non-chalantly. "Dad got mad at me in the garage and shot me with my own gun. I can still walk, but not very fast." He explained, icy blue eyes growing distant for a moment. He seemed to be contemplating something, so Misto didn't bother him.
After a few minutes the older tom smiled at the tuxedoed tom-kit, but it was more of a devious one. "Hey, you said you wanted to see London, right 'Stoffy?" He inquired in a low whisper. If Macavity was listening in, he didn't want him to hear them.
Misto nodded enthusiastically, ochre eyes brightening.
"Then let's go; right now." Alonzo offered his kid brother a paw. Misto hesitated.
The tuxedoed tom-kit looked at his sibling with an expression mixed with fear and hope. "But…Dad said we can't leave the warehouse…" He protested while biting his lower lip.
'Lonzy smirked and grabbed Misto's paw nevertheless. "Who the hell cares about what Dad says? I'm getting us out, and we're going to see the outside. I know someone who'll let us out." He whispered excitedly and stood up. He had some difficulty, but managed to limp over to the door and open it for them. The two toms cautiously peeked out from their room and down both halls extending from the corner where their room was located. The corridors were deserted and not a light bulb from the ceiling was shining.
Alonzo and Misto crept down the hall and over to the staircase. No one patrolled the inside of the hideout, but the outside was crawling with guards. They had to be careful and silent.
In the tense minutes that ticked by, Misto wondered where they would go if they got past the guards. Did Alonzo have a destination in mind? He decided to ask. "Alonzo, where are we going to go once we get outside?" The small tom questioned innocently as he followed his brother down the dank stairwell. Alonzo immediately whirled around and clapped a paw over the younger tom's mouth and held a finger to his lips. They continued slinking down the staircase in silence.
What his brother said made Alonzo think, though. He didn't actually have a plan once he got outside. He had no idea where they were headed. The patched tom started to think about places once they were on the first floor and creeping down the hall that led past the cafeteria and to the emergency exit, which was always guarded. It was used as a regular exit by the henchcats, though. Alonzo got word in the garage before his father came in that a queen his age that he knew was on guard duty tonight. His friends also let it slip that she had a huge crush on him.
Alonzo thought this was the perfect opportunity to make a break for it. He spotted this queen leaning against the wall by the door, asleep standing up. Misto and his older brother padded confidently up to her, and Alonzo tapped her shoulder to wake the orange tabby queen.
She instantly jerked her head up and whipped it around, before resting her gaze on Alonzo and his brother. She smiled and her orange cheeks turned a light pink. "Hey, Alonzo…What are you doing up this late at night? Shouldn't you and your adorable little brother be asleep?" She said in a soft voice, motioning to Misto. The small tom frowned at being called "adorable".
The patched tom smiled as he let go of Misto's paw to cup the orange tabby's cheek gently. He wound his other paw around her petite waist. The queen's blush deepened and she didn't hesitate to press herself closer to him. "I just came to see my favourite queen, Ezmeria. I heard you have a crush on me and I wanted to let you know I feel the same way about you." Alonzo purred as he leaned in to kiss the orange tabby's cheek. He didn't actually like this queen, but he was willing to act that way if it meant freedom.
Ezmeria sighed contentedly as she rested her head on Alonzo's chest, reaching up and placing her paws on his muscled shoulders. The patched tom caressed her cheek and continued trailing kisses down her neck, and actually started enjoying her shivers and sighs of pleasure. Misto observed his brother with intrigue, the way any fifteen-year old tom with no queen experience would.
When he was positive he had the orange tabby queen under his control, Alonzo whispered seductively in her ear, "Do you mind doing something for me?"
Ezmeria nodded against his chest and breathed, "Anything…"
The patched tom smirked. "Open the door for me, will you?" He requested, trailing his fingers up the queen's back for extra effect.
The orange tabby let out a quiet moan and lifted one of her paws off Alonzo's shoulder to grip the door handle beside her. She pulled the door open just enough so he could hold it open with his fingertips. Alonzo kissed her cheek again as a thank you and released her, ushering Misto outside. The warm summer air greeted them as they stepped out of the hideout for the first time in their entire lives.
Before the pair could take the outside world in, a patrolling guard spotted them. "Hey, you aren't supposed to be out here! Get back inside!" The brown, spear-wielding tom barked, startling the two escapees out of their mystified states.
Alonzo and Misto ducked and ran for their lives before the tom could catch them. They ran down a narrow alley and out of sight of the brown tom, who immediately gave chase and shouted "Breakout! Breakout!" Not a second later an alarm blared from inside the hideout.
The two toms dashed out into the middle of the street, having no idea where to go next. Henchcats could be heard and seen running towards them with spears and sentries shouted out directions. Alonzo and his brother ran onto the opposite side of the street and into another alley. Alonzo was a little slower than Misto because of his foot, but he was still considerably fast. The henchcats followed them into the alley while some went around, trying to block them at the other end. The two youngsters skidded to a stop when their only escape was barricaded by three burly toms with spears, and more could be heard running after them from the other end of the alley. They were surrounded.
Alonzo wasn't about to give up, though. He had trained for this type of combat his whole life. He took one henchcat's spear and yanked it out of his paws, and then drove it into the tom's skull. He fell backwards, dead. There were two more to go before the alley mouth would be clear. Misto kicked one tom in the thigh to distract him while his brother pushed him backwards, took his spear, and rammed it into his chest. The tom sputtered and gasped before becoming still on the ground. The third tom was taken care of in much the same manner.
The pair of toms leaped over the feline corpses and started running down the sidewalk at full speed, hoping to outrun the henchcats. It worked, and soon the grunts gave up. Alonzo and Misto didn't stop running, though. They ran about ten blocks until Alonzo's right leg gave out and he stumbled forward, skidding on the ground. Misto heard the commotion from behind him and halted to see what was wrong. His patched older brother was sitting on the ground, cradling his bandaged foot. The gauze was soaked through with blood and he was hissing in pain.
"Can you stand, Alonzo? C'mon, we have to keep going. Dad's henchcats could still be after us!" He exclaimed worriedly, helping his brother up by putting his arm around his shoulders. Alonzo whimpered as he put weight on his injured foot, and could barely put any pressure on it. He limped along slowly, telling Misto to stop every now and again so he could rest. This gave him time to take in his surroundings.
They were walking along a chain-link fence that stretched as far as he could see down the street. Inside this fence were huge piles of trash that looked like those on garbage day at the warehouse, only infinitely more mountainous and abundant. On the other side of the street were small buildings that looked forgotten and abandoned like the warehouse. They were clearly poorly maintained and it didn't look like anyone lived in them.
The brothers suddenly heard a voice from their right, which happened to come from the other side of the fence with trash piles. "Is everything alright, boys? You look like you need help." A silver tabby stated from behind the fence. He was clearly an adult and looked very concerned.
Alonzo hissed and retorted, "Leave us alone, we're fine."
The silver tabby tom didn't seem convinced. He pointed to Alonzo's bloody hind foot. "Are you sure? That gauze doesn't look like it'll hold out much longer." Seeing the patched tom's skepticism he added, "Don't worry, I'm a friend. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help you, that's all. What do you say we fix that injury of yours and then you can be on your way?"
The patched tom sighed heavily. He wasn't in a position to argue right now, and both he and Misto were exhausted and hungry. He nodded and the tabby smiled pleasantly.
"That's the spirit, now just follow me and I'll lead you to a spot where you can get in." The adult tom offered and started walking along the fence. Alonzo merely rolled his eyes, gripped the fence with both paws, and climbed up and over using only three paws. The silver tabby looked impressed and they waited for Misto to climb over. Once both were inside the fence, the adult tom proceeded to lead them further into the area, weaving around trash piles that glinted and glimmered in the moonlight, just like Misto's fur.
There was a short silence for a few minutes. The tabby broke it by inquiring politely, "What are your names, boys?"
The patched tom replied gruffly while limping along, supported by his sibling, "Alonzo. My brother here is Mistofelees."
Alonzo could see the older tom in front of him nod and heard him say, "My name is Munkustrap, and I welcome you to the Jellicle Junkyard."
Alonzo suddenly halted and tried to back up, but his injured foot only let him get a few steps away. "Whoa, whoa, did you say Jellicle? Aww shit Misto, we gotta get out of here. These guys are bad news, just like Dad said." He hissed urgently, and his brother saw the hatred in his eyes. Macavity had told them all about the Jellicle Tribe, and none of it was good.
Munkustrap cocked his head and stared at Alonzo's retreating form for a second. Then the realization dawned in his eyes. "You aren't Macavity's sons, are you?" He questioned slowly. When all he got a hiss in response he continued, "You are! You're escaping from him, am I right?"
"What's it to you, Jellicle scum?" Alonzo shot back fiercely, still trying to get away. He tripped on a discarded can and fell backwards, taking Misto with him. They collapsed on the ground, and the small tom got up instantly to stand protectively over his wounded brother.
Alonzo felt his heart pounding in his ears as Munkustrap stepped carefully towards them, and saw his kid brother from behind, lashing his short tail. He heard him faintly hiss, but in reality Misto was hissing as loud as he could. Alonzo inexplicably found it difficult to breathe, and his injured foot was throbbing in agonizing pain. Before he knew it, everything was black.
Munkustrap glanced behind Misto to see that the little tom's brother had fainted. He turned his attention to Mistofelees. "Look, your brother has blacked out and there's not much you can do for him right now. I honestly wouldn't care at this point if you two were Pollicles. I have the resources to help you, and I want to get you two back on your feet and healthy again. Will you let me help?" He offered calmly. Misto looked over his shoulder at Alonzo and found this tabby was indeed correct. Alonzo was unconscious. He hesitantly nodded and let Munkustrap hoist his brother over his shoulder and followed him further into the Jellicle Junkyard. Misto was in his father's most hated enemy's territory, but he was so desperate he didn't care where he was. If the Jellicles were smart enough to kick out a lunatic like Macavity, then perhaps they weren't so bad after all?