"Mu-Munkus…" he almost shouted, "Y-you have to see this…"

Everyone turned to Tumble's direction, and seeing what he was still horrifyingly studying, they all had the same exact face of awe, shock, and fear. The faded orange brick had been painted on with the blood puddle of the kittens in the shape of a giant "M". On a side wall, there was written a small message, "MORE WILL DIE, UNLESS YOU COME."

~^..^~

Everytime Zelaphelia stared at the red painted "M", she couldn't help but get a shiver down her spine. The message, of course was even more disturbing. The blood-ink of each letter seemed to be almost aligned in black, curving and ceasing so quickly you'd think each drop had been slashed by a knife. Each letter registered in her mind and was soon branded in her memory. She couldn't get the words out of her head, or at least shift her eyes away from the awful sight. The cold feeling in her paws began growing inside her flesh, running through her blood and filling her whole body, as if it was supposed to immobilize her. The gold-red female finally lowered herself, the simple words in her head slipping out of her mouth as she cried, "I knew it…I knew he'd be back…I should have seen this coming…I shouldn't have come back…"

Once she had said this, the gold-red queen felt Munkustrap's heavy paw resting on her shoulder in reassurance, "Zela…this isn't your fault…" his tone was dappled in bits of sorrow that sounded less than confident.

All of the toms examined at the wall while she was staring at her paws that had accidentally stepped in the blood puddle that the kittens lay in. Zela winced as tears streamed down her face. "I knew he was after me. I knew he was going to try…I knew he was coming back for me…"

Munkustrap shook his head as he stepped forward to study the giant red 'M'. He looked back at the Zela and sighed, "You don't know that for sure Zel."

The gold-red queen gave him an incredulous look as she wiped away her angry tears with her paw and soon pointed at the blood message, "You think that doesn't mean anything Munk? You don't think this was left for me?"

The silver tabby checked where she was pointing and then raised an eyebrow, looking rather concerned, "Zela…what do you mean?"

Zelaphelia's eyes widened in disbelief. She felt her face contorting in a glare as she stared at the message and then shifted her gaze towards Munkustrap, "Can you not see-"

-No one else but you and I can see that message Zela, a voice in her head suddenly told her. Zela flinched back at the sound of voices in head. It quickly spoke again, Zela, relax! Don't freak out, it's just me. It's Misto. Sorry I had to scare you like that. I never told you mystics can telepathically talk to each other. Oh, and if you're going to answer back, be sure not talk out loud.

Zelaphelia looked over Munkustrap's shoulder to look at Mistoffelees. The tuxedo tom was seemingly avoiding her gaze, which was obvious, but Zela was still so tired, confused, scared, and slightly angry that she decided to humor Misto's voice, though she was new to telepathy. The gold-red queen grimaced at nothing while Mungo and Tumble mumbled their theories to Munkus on the Hidden Paw's newly apparent signa. She didn't dare look back at Misto though. Wh-what do you mean… wecan only see-it?, and why can'twe ju-ust talk aloud? Zela heard the magician chortle at her stumble of mental words. She suppressed a glare as she waited for his answer.

It didn't take too long: I don't think Munk needs to know this kind of information… unless you think he should, the conjurer began, That message Macavity must have left you? He hexed it, I think. It's under some heavy dark magic that only mystics can see. Completely invisible to non-magical cats. Looks like he wanted to keep it private.

Zela shook her head in complete disbelief. This was all happening too fast for her to even comprehend half of what Misto had told her. She turned somberly away from all of the toms and the bloody "M" and observed quietly the six red-washed kittens. She couldn't help but think that it was all her fault, despite Munkustrap's reassurance that it wasn't. If she hadn't gone back to London, Macavity would have left the kittens alone. He would have never done anything to the tribe. No one would have gotten hurt. The gold-red queen glared at the scarlet liquid moistening the dirt and flowing over the ground like ice dripping over heat. Zela felt nothing but hatred for herself. If I hadn't had been so stupid… she thought bitterly, If I had stayed as far away as possible, they would all be alive, Plato wouldn't be sick, and Misto wouldn't have gotten hurt…

You know, I can still hear everything you're thinking to yourself, Misto's voice commented quietly, but Zela, things still would be terrible if you didn't come. Macavity would stop at nothing to see the tribe destroyed, he would have gotten to us eventually. Jellicles would have gotten hurt either way. And Jenny and Jelly said that the puncture wounds that have infested Plato may very well infest me soon enough. But I've only been consciously aware of that fact for about 45 minutes and have had no side effects that resemble Plato's. Whatever's happened is a patter. Something up, but I just don't know what…

Zela silently listened to his explanation, but wasn't exactly paying attention. She was looking over each body of the kittens. Not only was she welling up once again, she felt a pain in studying all of them; the pain of knowing that this could have been avoided. None of the kittens would have been lying there, suffering through the worst of agony and only to die in a relatively slow pace. It must have been hell, and those kittens couldn't even speak yet. The gold-red female thought quietly about what it would have been like if she hadn't gotten involved. The kittens would have probably grown up normally. The little patched tom, Giacomo would have been a brilliant mystic, especially with Misto as his teacher. The other two males, Delano and Lazarus, could have been great candidates to be Alonzo's prodigy and as protectors of the tribe. Argetta would have probably been such a graceful dancer like Victoria was, Kalendre could have probably been high enough in importance to be close to the Jellicle Leader, and Vitalee… the beautiful little Vitalee…who knew? With little acknowledgement over what she was examining at, Zelaphelia unwittingly witnessed her stifled Goddaughter. Nothing worth looking at that wouldn't make her burst into a new set of tears. Then seeing it…she noticed something peculiar; something she assumed was a trick conjured by her eyes. Or maybe it wasn't… a twitch? The smallest of movement in a little chocolate brown paw. The Jellicle queen stood up, and stared at the supposedly dead kitten once more.

Most possibly, she had seen surge of jolts in the little Vitalee's body. She thought, perhaps she had seen it wrong, and it was a simple illusion of her mixture of emotions, but the twitching began again. Zelaphelia's eyes widened as she sharply turned to the toms. "Munk!" she exclaimed alertly.

Munkustrap looked back from the dead end wall and walked over to her, "What? What is it?" he asked simply out of curiosity, and not looking where she was.

The gold-red queen couldn't even speak in words what she had seen. She felt a blatantly created shock overtaking the nerves in her body as she stared behind the silver tabby. With no other way to communicate, Zela simply pointed her paw at the one shaking kitten, and had unwittingly lost her voice and backbone…

~^..^~

Mistoffelees looked over Munkustrap, trying to see what the flushed-faced Zelaphelia was pointing at. He leaned over his shoulder uneasily and looked over the gruesome bodies promiscuously. It made him feel uneasy that he wasn't just thinking about six dead kittens emotionally, but also logically. He hadn't gotten the chance to examine the bodies; not when Tumble had found the mark of the Hidden Paw up on the dead end of the alleyway, and then the strange message that was seemingly left for Zela. It made sense in his head. The gold-red female was the one who could see visions of the present, so she would know where the henchcats took the kittens. Killing them was making a little evil scene and showing Zela and Munk everything he was capable of doing. When looking over the lifeless bodies, he saw that most of where the blood was coming from wasn't from any large gushing wounds, but from small ones spurting from exposed areas such as corruptible arteries in their necks, thighs, and tiny wrists. It was truly an ugly scene and an unforgivable act.

Mistoffelees shook his head at all of his thoughts and examinations, but one thing in particular puzzled him; Cassandra and Alonzo had given him responsibility as a godfather to their oldest son, Giacomo. What was the most unusual thing was that the little tom-kit's throat had been cut open, mainly on the correct vein that ran to his head. His fatal injury had spilled the most blood. Macavity must have had it all planned out, but why kill the oldest differently than his siblings? It didn't make sense. The tuxedo tom turned himself a little closer, finally trying to see what Munkustrap and Zela were staring at.

When he saw the exact point, his jaw dropped in unusual shock. He saw the body of Alonzo and Cassandra's youngest daughter, Vitalee. She was twitching in the puddle, trying to nudge herself elsewhere while lying face-down. The red liquid would sway on her mouth and nose, practically drowning her while she was barely in half-inch puddle. She kept squirming, somewhat trying to mewl for help, but only seeing that she was failing every time the waves of blood began washing over her face and half of her body. The conjuring cat gasped, taking a step back as Jerrie and Tumble had stepped forward to see what the commotion from Zela was about. By the time they saw it, she had gotten out of her state of shock and was able to look more closely at it.

Munkustrap didn't react once seeing the kitten; he was quickly studying over it and sooner or later, he was able to jump out of his stance. He turned to Zela once, and then looked back at Mistoffelees. His expression wasn't reasonable, but the dark outlines cornered in his blind-blue eyes told Misto that he was both confused and shocked. He blinked, looking between the two mystics, and then to Mungojerrie and Tumblebrutus. "We'll get her to Jellyorum, quickly," he said with urgency in his voice. The silver tabby turned to the Jellicle queen, "Zela, you'll get her there, won't you?"

The gold-red queen turned and nodded accordingly. She quickly walked over to the blood-bath scene and scooped the small Vitalee gently in her arms. The kitten was now quietly mewling, and obviously must have been in serious agony or some sort of discomfort. The blood on her body rubbed over the Zela's white chest as she held her close like a human mother would a child. Mistoffelees turned to Munkustrap, swallowing vigor in his mouth. He ignored everything that could have said at that moment besides, "What about the others?"

Munkustrap stared at the young magician, and he saw something in his eyes of unnecessary consequence; fear. He walked over to the bodies, and grabbed black garbage bags that hadn't been utilized conveniently. He handed them to Tumblebrutus while looking over both Zelaphelia and Misto. "The rest will be carried back to the Junkyard…" he said.

Zela stepped forward with a slight scowl, "Using…trash bags? Munkustrap, that's hardly a proper way to carry our dead."

The silver tabby looked over her sadly and then stared at the ground, "We have no other way, Zela…" he whispered. This sounded almost reasonable in Misto's mind unfortunately. He didn't love the fact that that was the way of carrying them, but there wasn't a better option.

Zela, however, didn't seem as convinced, "But Munk-"

Suddenly, the Jellicle guardian turned to her with a sullen face, "-If you have a better way, then please share it!" He paused as they glared at each other. The inferno between their gazes seemed almost powerful enough to crack the ground open if one of them should look away.

Zela merely clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes down on Munkustrap with something that looked like hatred. Mistoffelees came closer to her, trying to relieve the pulsing tension, but she merely stepped back a ways. With nothing to say, the gold-red queen lowered her glare to the ground, and strangely nothing happened, but the tension only grew from there on. Munkustrap sighed, and was able to lift the strain from his voice, "We'll bring them back in the bags. We don't want Cassandra and Alonzo seeing them like this…"

Everyone was avoiding Munkustrap's stare at that moment, because they knew he was right, and frankly no one seemed to be looking at each other. There was an unidentifiable awkwardness that shifted the search party in a frozen pause. Finally, Misto swallowed hard and found the ability to move out of his thawing stance. He walked silently to Tumblebrutus, took a bag, and then headed towards the dead kittens. He looked over them once more, this time with more compassion and hurt swarming around in his chest. It was the hardest thing to look at; five kittens, all lying on the ground in a blood-soaked grave. Five lives cut short by small injections into their blood streams. Five Jellicles. Gone. Erased…forever. Whatever had happened; whatever Macavity did to them; Misto swore that he'd find a way to make sure nothing like this would ever happen again. He didn't know what he had to do, but he would do something; whatever it took, though he wasn't sure how long he had now, due to the fact that he was supposed to be sharing the same fate as Plato in a brief period of time…or was he?

Something wasn't right to the tribe magician. Things just weren't connecting in his head. Macavity had finally revealed himself out of all the confusion, so at least they knew whatever was happening wasn't spontaneous, but three things were off in his mind. One, he wasn't being affected by whatever was injected into his system, which meant that this…toxin…was either taking longer to alter him or that maybe it wasn't the same thing Plato had been injected with. Two, Macavity killed Giacomo by slitting his throat and letting him bleed to death, and not by the same method he used on the other kits. Why would he do that? Was he just that insane, or was there a method to his madness? It was uncertain either way. Three, the kit, Vitalee, wasn't dead. For some reason, she had been injected with the same toxin as the other kits. Why hadn't it worked on her? The only thing certain in Mistoffelees's mind was that there were too many questions; too big of a mystery for him to handle on his own. Whatever Macavity was planning, and whatever he was using to do it, the tuxedo tom knew he needed to figure it out.

Misto grimaced, and sighed quietly as he placed his hand beneath the body of little Giacomo. He lifted the kitten into the black bag and wrapped it carefully like a package. Tumblebrutus, Mungojerrie, and Munkustrap came up next to the grief-stricken magician and repeated the same action with the other four, all looking solemn and causelessly guilty. It nearly broke each of their hearts, knowing that kittens were dead, and knowing they would have to go back to the Junkyard and face the tribe with the corpses of their own family. And seeing Cassandra and Alonzo's faces were going to make it ten times harder…

~^..^~

Macavity and four other henchcats had returned to the Warehouse much later that afternoon. Benthelo had been one of the four, which made Marcetheus's life a little harder during his free time. The tortishell tom had come into the open areas of the Warehouse that most of the henchcats would come either running through or just come to relax from a job given to them by the Napoleon of Crime. Jezabella told Marceth that he could take the afternoon off do to his languid work. He really didn't have anything to do during the day anyway. So, in all tedium, the tortishell tom decided to converse with a few henchcats about warehouse life at the moment, debating hateful thoughts over the Junkyard tribe, and current jobs that had been keeping them busy, which did well for Marceth for a while; then Benthelo showed up. The black tom traipsed into the open den cockily, looking smug at that particular moment. No one needed to talk to Ben to know he had gone on a job with the Hidden Paw. His face told an entire story of heart-racing excitement, and Marceth could already hear the august words fluttering out of his mouth. And if anyone knew how the assassin henchcat thought, they'd know he would go boast to the one he found the least impressive and make his way up. Obviously, the least impressive to Ben would be the tortishell guardstom.

Marceth had been lying on a packaging delivery paper that had been sprawled over several stacked wooden crates that toppled over the henchcat's area. Ironically, he had been talking with Ben's littermate brother, Ramloweram. Ramlowe had been unusually friendly without his twin around. The caprice of the torturer made absolutely no sense to Marceth. Maybe he was just a jerk when he was with Benthelo. The smoky black tom came walking over to the two of them with a smarmy grin. "Oh, hey guys." He said with his voice was oozing in mockery as he stared at the tortishell tom.

Marceth would have probably told him to bugger off, but he was distracted at the sight of the black tom's paws, which were looking coated in liquid and tracking red steps through the Warehouse. He looked at the assassin henchcat in mild interest. Ramlowe greeted his brother quietly, "Hey Ben…um…so where've you been?"

Benthelo scoffed as his grin stretched on one side of his face, "I was on a mission with Macavity and his number two. You know, Barnabas? Yeah, him, and Macavity, and some old torturer brought me along to do some…sabotage with the Jellicle tribe." Benthelo's tone of voice was dark and malice, but he spoke as if this was a completely casual thing.

They stayed in silence for a couple seconds, and then Ramlowe finally got his begrudging congratulations out, "Wow…sounds…great?" Marceth sensed a little bit of envy in Ramloweram's voice, but wouldn't point it out for the sake of being mocked by both brothers.

Ben gave a sadistic grin, "Oh yes, extremely great. We took care of some of the Junkyard brats that we stole from the Junkyard, and impaired a mystic cat. Let's see those weak-minded fools stand-up to Macavity with that kind of defense!" He was chuckling madly in a way that almost made Marceth scared of him.

But instead of cowering at Benthelo's dark thoughts, he was scanning the black tom's words in his head and thought about what he was implying, "Wait, what do you mean you took care of some Jellicle brats?"

Ben turned his head, looking glad to see that the tortishell tom had finally spoken, "Oh yeah, we got hold of some stupid kits and the boss had us kill them. You'd think Jellicles would have cared for their young enough to be watching them more carefully. Idiots."

Marceth stared at his former friend for a short time in disbelief. He knew he should probably be jealous that Ben got to go out on missions with the Napoleon of Crime and he probably never would, but what was concerning him more was the fact that they had killed kittens. Even if they were Jellicles, they were only kits. Macavity would kill newborns just to get what he wanted? Well, he knew that the ginger tom was powerful and thirsted for vengeance, but murdering kittens wasn't exactly the sanest of qualities for the Warehouse leader. Marceth stared at the both black toms, feeling alone in his thoughts and unaware that they were staring at him. The tortishell sighed, "Sounds…awesome." He lied quietly, still a bit stuck on what to think about this.

Ben snorted as his grin widened slightly, "Hey, no need to be jealous, Marceth, just because you're stuck underground and I've already been on an out-of-headquarters mission…oh wait…maybe you do then. I'd be insulted if you weren't actually."

Marceth came out of his heedlessness when hearing of the black tom's words, and when he realized the ridicule, he frowned, "Then you should be more insulted, Ben, because I wouldn't envy murdering kits for even half of the glory you think you possess."

Benthelo scoffed, staring at the tortishell tom, and unimpressed by the statement, "Their Jellicles. It's not like they're important. And not exactly your smartest move, standing up for them. Then again, you've never really had a smart moment, have you Marceth?"

Marcetheus glared at Benthelo, but didn't really have any witty comeback to throw at him. The black henchcat seethed, and then chuckled slightly, "Better not get caught being so soft-hearted towards them, Marceth. Could get you into bigger trouble than you realize, and I'd hate to see the only guardstom dead. Who will watch those Jellicles rot in their cells?"

The tortishell tom sighed, not really up for finishing the conversation, mostly because it made him uncomfortable. It was all just throwing offensive words at one another. With probably the smallest bit of dignity left in him, Marceth got up from his spot and began walking away from the brothers. He bumped Benthelo's shoulder purposefully as he did. He felt the hate and rivalry surrounding all three of them, but the most tension was between him and Ben. He hadn't really cared for the black tom, or his twin really, but it wouldn't matter much. Macavity had given him a mission that was probably more important than killing kittens. At least he hoped it was…

~^..^~

Alonzo stared over the horizon of a late afternoon. His heart was racing with worry, wondering if Munkustrap and the search party would come back with his kittens. He kept telling himself that they were alright, and everything was going to be okay. His positive outlook was fully to keep himself hopeful, because Cassandra was a complete mess. She was clinging to him as if her life would end if she let go. She had been sobbing nonstop since their kits' disappearance had been discovered, and what made it worse was that he couldn't do anything to make her happy besides listen to her and try to convince her that everything was going to be fine. In his head, he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. His doubt was overwhelmingly powerful; powerful enough where he found no control over it. The bi-color tom began questioning his own confidence in what could possibly be persisting in the search.

Of course, he was remaining hopeful, for Cassandra sake, which was growing more and more difficult when they hadn't come back for quite some time. Alonzo sighed, turning to his mate as they sat on the hood of the TSE 1 car. Almost every Jellicle was wandering around, some trying to comfort them, others anticipating Munkustrap's arrival as much as they were. The hardest part to decipher from most of this traumatizing experience was what Macavity wanted with their kittens. He pondered why it had to be them to be going under this torture, and what could possibly be happening to their kittens. Alonzo sighed, remaining optimistic, and hoping that Zelaphelia wasn't going to be too late. No, he quickly thought, she's NOT going to be too late. The kittens will be fine. He needed to tell himself this to stay hopeful enough. If Zela saw where they were, then there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she'd find them.

It wasn't long after he thought this, that Cassandra finally looked up from her blubbery state to stare at him, "Lonz…" she whispered, her voice cracked and flimsy.

Alonzo stared at his mate, feeling both sympathetic and empathetic at the same time, "What is it Cass…?"

"D-do you think they're okay? The kits…" she sniffed, seeming to hold back more tears.

The white-black tom stared at her, and studied the words that came out of her mouth. Of course there was only one thing he could say, "I do, Cass. I think Munk and Zela are close to them. They'll find the kits and they'll bring them back safe to us…"

The dark Siamese queen faintly smiled when hearing this, "I think so too…" she whispered.

She leaned a little closer into her mate, and he gently brushed the tears away from her face. Cassandra looked awful from all this crying and nervous breakdowns. She was usually so composed and relaxed, but seeing her like this was almost tragic. No one had ever seen Cass so broken up inside and out. Not since birthing the kits at least. Now, it appeared that she may have found some good optimism to hold onto. Alonzo sighed as he squeezed her tightly in an embrace. He felt the softness of her fur and felt the love and confidence radiating from her. The dark Siamese was probably stronger in more than one way, and that would obviously keep her calm. The bi-color tom couldn't wait to see her tooth-bared smile when Munkustrap found the kits. When they all came mewling to her and she held them close to her chest. He could picture his mate kissing their almost-lost kits in the most affectionate motherly way imaginable. He saw them all growing up, and not having to go through another terror of Macavity. They would be safe, unharmed, and everything would be better.

Suddenly, the white-black tom sensed something strange. His ear twitched twice as his head came up in alertness. Cassandra leveled with him as it seemed they both felt a presence enter the Junkyard. Possibly Munk and the searchers? The kits? Or better yet, both? The couple couldn't wait to find out. They simultaneously jumped from the hood of the old jalopy and sprinted to the closest entrance of which they sensed the felines from. A few Jellicles followed close behind them; Jellyorum especially. Alonzo could feel his instincts pulling on him; beckoning the two parents closer and closer to what waited ahead. He felt without a doubt that it was Munk with his kits. It had to be. They ran faster and faster, adrenaline and determination being the only energizers to the couple. As they did, Alonzo could feel his kits. He saw Giacomo's gleaming smile, and Kalendre's gentle sky-blue eyes. He saw Delano's mischievous grin as he swiped at an unfortunate rodent, and Argetta twirling around in circles, making herself dizzy. He could see Lazarus beaming at the sight of his parents, and Vitalee's pristine and enchanting face. All of his kits would be there, ready to greet their parents eagerly. That was all that Alonzo wanted at that moment. He wanted his kits with him.

Finally, Alonzo paused to catch his breath. Cassandra stayed with him in the narrow path. He could almost make out the silver lining Munkustrap's coat. It was appropriate, seeing as the Jellicle guardian was their only optimistic view. At first, the white-black tom thought it was simply his eyes playing tricks on him, but this time, he knew that it was Munkustrap. And he could make out the searchers right behind him. They were each carrying something delicately in their paws. The kits perhaps? Alonzo couldn't wait to find out. He and Cassandra quickly ran to meet the silver tabby tom with excited grins. But the closer they got, Alonzo could feel his smile fading quickly. His pace slowed as he stared at Munkustrap confusedly. They didn't have the kits, just trash bags. Why would Munkustrap bring back trash- Then the realization hit Alonzo like a smack on the forehead; it was definitely the worst blow to hit him, and at first he didn't want to believe it. But as they came closer, it became abundantly obvious. The black and white tom stopped, feeling himself frozen in both shock and horror. Cassandra began walking without him, but soon she began slowing down. Alonzo could barely move his heavy paws forward to get closer to his mate.

But it only made it worse. His heart was aching from the fact that he knew, and he didn't need Munkustrap to walk up to him with his garbage bag with a solemn face, which he did. The two mates stood closely together. Cassandra still seemed a bit oblivious to what was going on, but it didn't take long for the message sink in. "No…" she whispered.

Munkustrap sighed as he kept his eyes looking at the ground. He held two black bags in his hands that were wrapped in a bloody mess. They were body bags now. "Cass…Lonz…We…we tried…we thought we'd make it…we were too late…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" The silver tabby had tears streaming down his face.

Cassandra's first reaction was to grip the bag in Munkustrap's arm. Alonzo tried to stop her, but she nudged him away and twisted the wrappings open to see what was inside. When she finally reached her goal, the dark Siamese queen had sunk to her knees. New tears were produced in little time. "No…please…no…I thought you had them…You said-…they'd be okay… no… No…! NO!…No…no-o…" Alonzo witnessed his mate sprawled on the ground in complete devastation. He stared at her and the bags in each arm. All of his kits…dead…

Alonzo was about to join his mate on the ground, until his eyes met Zelaphelia. She looked different from the rest of the search party, because she was the only one without a body bag. The black and white tom stared at her curiously, and what was in her arms. Suddenly, he gasped. A small dark Siamese queen was sitting quietly; her chest rising up and down. Alonzo stood up as his heart filled with hope, "…Vitalee…?"