Genocide
© Kalliroscope
12/12/2002
====================================================
A solitary tomcat wandered through the lonely junkyard.
It was desolate, silent save for the rustling of wind-blown newspaper, which only served to emphasise the dead, painful emptiness.
The infamous tire was tilted on its side, the old car had its trunk open, and the rocking chair that the kittens loved to play on had fallen from its precarious perch.
~What happened?~ Munkustrap wondered. What event could have occurred that would drive the Jellicles from their time-honoured, ancestral meeting place?
The tabby's blue eyes drifted upward, gazing at the luminous full moon, its pure, ethereal light reflecting off of the car, the washing machine, the heaps of junk piled haphazardly across the broad stretch of asphalt that the Jellicle tribe called home. The soft white glow emanating from the moon seemed to have a particularly eldritch quality this night… almost as if Munkustrap's friends and family had all vanished by some supernatural means.
~As if the Moon could provide an answer,~ Munkustrap thought, angry with himself for his flight of fancy. ~It's just a light in the sky.~
He continued searching through the junk, hoping that some evidence would show itself, some clue would be found that would shed some light on this mystery.
Through the long hours of the night he searched, past the setting of the moon, and into the early morning hours, when the first daring birds began their songs.
At last, Munkustrap had to admit defeat. He had been over the junkyard several times… and could find no clue as to what had caused his tribe to disappear.
"Just vanished into thin air," he muttered aloud. He was seated on the old car, whose trunk he had closed; leaned back against the shattered windscreen, the tomcat watched the sun make its way into the cloudless sky.
"Vanished into thin air," he repeated, "and all in one night whilst I was away…"
As the first rays of dawn crept across the empty wasteland, Munkustrap closed his eyes, forgetting the enigma for just one moment while he lay in the growing sunlight, silver fur glistening, basking, as cats do, in the warmth…
***
In the late afternoon of June the 17th, Mr. Pelsby, an exterminator by trade, sent his young assistant, one Jerry Traulson by name, to check up on their latest assignment.
Jerry rode his bike down to the old dump - he couldn't afford a car. The sun was hot, the ride both long and difficult, and it was a sweating, panting Jerry that finally arrived at the dump, which had been condemned years ago but never cleared away.
"Bloody old place," Jerry grumbled as he dismounted and chained his bicycle to the gate. "Who needs it… may as well just get rid of the whole lot, it's not doing anyone any good just lying around like this…"
Still complaining in this vein as he entered the dump by means of a breach in the chain link fence, Jerry gave the junkyard little more than a perfunctory once-over, and would have gone back to his bicycle and made for home had he not spotted a glint of silver draped across the remains of a smashed-up car.
A glint of silver is not exactly unusual in a dump such as this - but this particular glint had a furrier quality to it than most silvery shining things tend to have.
Jerry went closer, peering down at it. It appeared to be a cat - and probably dead, or else asleep.
"Well, might as well make sure the job's done proper," the redhead commented to no one at all, and, picking up a rather oversized, quite beat-up rolling pin that had once belonged in someone's kitchen, he proceeded to, quite callously, bash in the skull of the long-limbed tomcat.
The tabby made no move nor sound as its life ended abruptly, at the hands of an uncaring human. It was as if it wanted to die.
"Probably killed long ago," Jerry said, dropping the rolling pin and dusting his hands off on his faded jeans. "Oughta get rid of the corpse, though."
After burying the feline cadaver in what used to be quite a nice flowerpot, that is before it was broken into three pieces, Jerry Traulson departed from the old dump, biked back to work and told Mr. Pelsby that there were no more stray cats roaming around the condemned junkyard.
Jerry went home to his mother and two younger sisters, and was quickly persuaded into going out for pizza.
Mr. Pelsby was perfectly satisfied; he rang up Newgate Developers and told them to go ahead and level the place.
Newgate Developers were more than pleased to do so. Their permit expired in just a few months, and they were anxious to get all the rubbish cleared out of the area before selling the land to hopeful architects.
All in all, reflected Jerry, Mr. Pelsby, and Ms. Clark of Newgate Developers, it had been quite a productive day.
© Kalliroscope
12/12/2002
====================================================
A solitary tomcat wandered through the lonely junkyard.
It was desolate, silent save for the rustling of wind-blown newspaper, which only served to emphasise the dead, painful emptiness.
The infamous tire was tilted on its side, the old car had its trunk open, and the rocking chair that the kittens loved to play on had fallen from its precarious perch.
~What happened?~ Munkustrap wondered. What event could have occurred that would drive the Jellicles from their time-honoured, ancestral meeting place?
The tabby's blue eyes drifted upward, gazing at the luminous full moon, its pure, ethereal light reflecting off of the car, the washing machine, the heaps of junk piled haphazardly across the broad stretch of asphalt that the Jellicle tribe called home. The soft white glow emanating from the moon seemed to have a particularly eldritch quality this night… almost as if Munkustrap's friends and family had all vanished by some supernatural means.
~As if the Moon could provide an answer,~ Munkustrap thought, angry with himself for his flight of fancy. ~It's just a light in the sky.~
He continued searching through the junk, hoping that some evidence would show itself, some clue would be found that would shed some light on this mystery.
Through the long hours of the night he searched, past the setting of the moon, and into the early morning hours, when the first daring birds began their songs.
At last, Munkustrap had to admit defeat. He had been over the junkyard several times… and could find no clue as to what had caused his tribe to disappear.
"Just vanished into thin air," he muttered aloud. He was seated on the old car, whose trunk he had closed; leaned back against the shattered windscreen, the tomcat watched the sun make its way into the cloudless sky.
"Vanished into thin air," he repeated, "and all in one night whilst I was away…"
As the first rays of dawn crept across the empty wasteland, Munkustrap closed his eyes, forgetting the enigma for just one moment while he lay in the growing sunlight, silver fur glistening, basking, as cats do, in the warmth…
***
In the late afternoon of June the 17th, Mr. Pelsby, an exterminator by trade, sent his young assistant, one Jerry Traulson by name, to check up on their latest assignment.
Jerry rode his bike down to the old dump - he couldn't afford a car. The sun was hot, the ride both long and difficult, and it was a sweating, panting Jerry that finally arrived at the dump, which had been condemned years ago but never cleared away.
"Bloody old place," Jerry grumbled as he dismounted and chained his bicycle to the gate. "Who needs it… may as well just get rid of the whole lot, it's not doing anyone any good just lying around like this…"
Still complaining in this vein as he entered the dump by means of a breach in the chain link fence, Jerry gave the junkyard little more than a perfunctory once-over, and would have gone back to his bicycle and made for home had he not spotted a glint of silver draped across the remains of a smashed-up car.
A glint of silver is not exactly unusual in a dump such as this - but this particular glint had a furrier quality to it than most silvery shining things tend to have.
Jerry went closer, peering down at it. It appeared to be a cat - and probably dead, or else asleep.
"Well, might as well make sure the job's done proper," the redhead commented to no one at all, and, picking up a rather oversized, quite beat-up rolling pin that had once belonged in someone's kitchen, he proceeded to, quite callously, bash in the skull of the long-limbed tomcat.
The tabby made no move nor sound as its life ended abruptly, at the hands of an uncaring human. It was as if it wanted to die.
"Probably killed long ago," Jerry said, dropping the rolling pin and dusting his hands off on his faded jeans. "Oughta get rid of the corpse, though."
After burying the feline cadaver in what used to be quite a nice flowerpot, that is before it was broken into three pieces, Jerry Traulson departed from the old dump, biked back to work and told Mr. Pelsby that there were no more stray cats roaming around the condemned junkyard.
Jerry went home to his mother and two younger sisters, and was quickly persuaded into going out for pizza.
Mr. Pelsby was perfectly satisfied; he rang up Newgate Developers and told them to go ahead and level the place.
Newgate Developers were more than pleased to do so. Their permit expired in just a few months, and they were anxious to get all the rubbish cleared out of the area before selling the land to hopeful architects.
All in all, reflected Jerry, Mr. Pelsby, and Ms. Clark of Newgate Developers, it had been quite a productive day.