@de4d-sug4r’s side blog for all Tom and Jerry related things Fueling my autism and Jerome A. Mouse biases Waxing philosophical over the 80+ year old toxic codependency of a fictional cat and mouse
Didn’t know that the Tom and Jerry show from 2014 made them even more gay. Good for them! Also I like that Tom acts more like a cat here. Who knew all I needed to like Tom more was to see him purring (I always liked when he made cat noises)
-Tom is GENUINELY one of the few, if not, the only cat that can keep up with Jerry…not just because he’s fast and cunning but because Tom makes SURE other cats don’t muscle in on his territory
-Jerry, on the other hand, is a LOT harsher with cats chasing him that aren’t Tom (and that’s saying a LOT). Tom is HIS special cat and he refuses to be the prey of anyone else.
-Jerry loves playing hide and seek with Tom. Not normal hide and seek though…hide and seek tag because it’s basically another chase to them. Somehow, they ALWAYS turn it into a high-stakes game between them.
-In general, both LOVE taking childhood games and making their own extreme versions of them to challenge each other. This mostly happens when they’re not in the mood to chase.
-Tom can’t fit into Jerry’s mousehole (obviously), but he has absolutely managed to stick his head in there just to see if he could. This gave the intended effect of Jerry having the shock of his life…but it was undercut by the fact that Tom couldn’t get his head out of the mousehole. Jerry had to basically free him.
-Tom sometimes likes to groom his fur extra clean just for Jerry. Partly because he’s trying to impress the mouse and partly because he’s trying to prove a point…that point being Jerry SHOULD clean himself more, he likes it when Jerry doesn’t stink!
-Jerry and Tom have both contingency plans for EVERYTHING, including a zombie apocalypse and other possible scenarios, even nonsensical ones, just in case the need should arise. They’re basically mini survivalists/survivalist preparers in this regard.
-Tom is the better comforter between the two of them. This is because Jerry often doesn’t know the words or says the wrong things. Tom’s method of comforting is just being there and letting Jerry release his emotions safely.
-Tom is also better at directions and driving him and Jerry where they both want to go/end up in the end. He’s often the one in charge of steering their chases in a general direction (because Jerry has a habit of ending up in random places too much).
-However, Jerry is the better one at flirting. Mainly because it’s a lot similar to lying for him…exaggerate a few features of Tom and compliment him based on that! It also makes Tom blush each and every time so Jerry especially loves flirting with Tom just to see him blush.
For @meowchipchip and @tomandjerryyaoi. Hope you enjoy these!
-Surprisingly, Tom of all people is the more teasing one between them. He will tease Jerry about literally anything. The cat’s teasing can range from merciless roasting to absolute softness.
-However, between the two of them, it’s Jerry that is the more physically affectionate/touchy one between him and Tom. He literally CANNOT keep his hands off of Tom.
-Jerry has a habit of using Tom as a pillow and a blanket all at the same time. He loves burrowing into Tom’s fur because it’s incredibly soft as a whole. He mainly does it when he’s in a good mood (or when he wants to tease Tom back), but sometimes, he does it on the rare occasions he’s stressed or scared.
-While at first only doing it for the bit, Jerry and Tom have secretly grown to ENJOY kissing each other. They each have a kiss count on how many times one can kiss each other before the other catches them. So far, they’re both tied.
-Neither Tom or Jerry are big on dates. Too boring and set on an allotted schedule. To them, their chases are their dates. And every whack on the head with a frying pan or some other object is their way of flirting.
-That being said, they DO like to get out and move, as they don’t want their chases to stay confined to one place. When they do, Jerry and Tom generally prefer going places where they don’t have to spend money/have any sort of social barriers to have a good time. To them, everything should be fair game!
-One of Tom and Jerry’s favorite activities to do together (aside from their regular chases) is traversing the rooftops of the city together. It’s freedom in its purest form. They also like watching the sun rise or sun set together during breaks.
-They rarely give each other gifts either. To them, their physical presence with each other is a gift in itself. However, when they DO give each other gifts, it’s for very special occasions only and they tend to go all-out. For example, Tom gave Jerry an entire specialized mousehole home he built himself just for Jerry on for their first anniversary. To this day, Jerry still lives in that home and uses everything in it.
-When Jerry and Tom get into arguments with each other, instead of talking things out, they prefer to just fight each other until someone wins. Then and ONLY then will the argument be resolved (and that’s how they concede points to each other).
-Like I said in my main HC page for these two, both are DEEPLY loyal to one another and that only increases now that they’re dating. They have literally ZERO interest in other people trying to catch their attention or flirt with them.
-Tom and Jerry are VERY observant of each other. Both know the other’s habits to a tee and it’s SCARY how well they can predict each other’s next move. Neither of them find it creepy. To them, it shows how well they know each other.
-Tom likes to groom Jerry…constantly (because as I said in my HC page, Jerry has poor personal hygiene and kind of stinks). Not just to clean up Jerry…because whenever Tom of all people grooms someone, it shows how much he cares. Jerry actually finds Tom’s grooming very relaxing and lets him do it (also, Tom doesn’t make sneaky comments on how much he stinks anymore, so that’s also a plus)
-Whenever Jerry is nervous about bringing something up with Tom, he pretends that dolls are Tom and practices talking to them. He tells them all of the REALLY romantic thoughts he has of Tom but is nervous Tom will think him weird for having them. Tom has heard one of these conversations and thought it was the sweetest and most beautiful thing he heard ever. But out of respect for Jerry’s privacy (and not wanting to embarrass him/let him know he had eavesdropped), he keeps silent.
-Tom loves crafting in general. He’s made SEVERAL crafts with Jerry whenever they’re bored/looking for something to do. Jerry isn’t as good as Tom (his crafts fall apart after a one time use or are barely held together) but it’s still a fun way for them to bond, relax, and have fun.
-Tom and Jerry will reuse SEVERAL things from their past chases to show they remember something important about the other.
-Since Jerry doesn’t easily blush in my headcanon, one of Tom’s favorite things to do is find ways of making Jerry himself do so. This means being increasingly smooth and surprisingly romantic when with Jerry. Jerry almost never takes the bait…but he DID blush one time when Tom pulled a surprisingly and VERY smooth move on Jerry. Tom counts that as a win in his book.
-Jerry loves leaving little notes for Tom! They’re very cryptic in nature and often send Tom on a scavenger hunt/purposeful goose chase with Jerry as a prize at the end.
-Jerry doesn’t like it when Tom sings. He’s sung for several others, especially female cats, so Jerry would VERY much prefer if Tom did literally anything else but sing. Tom doesn’t begrudge Jerry for this. He can see the reasoning behind it anyway.
-(NSFW!) What Jerry DOES like is when Tom marks him, especially with his teeth and tongue. He proudly shows off any marks and hickeys that Tom leaves on him.
-(NSFW!): Tom and Jerry are switches. Sometimes, Tom tops and sometimes, Jerry tops. They do, however, have competitions on who can give the better sex/make the other cum the most while topping. So far, Tom’s winning.
4,606 words, Human AU, First Person (Jerry) POV, Horror elements (scary monsters, no gore or violence), currently unfinished
I’d like to think I am a real “go-with-the-flow” sort of guy. A “guess, we doing circles now” kind of character. Things do just happen sometimes, even if they seem improbable. That line of thinking has certainly served me well for dealing with my family, my enemies, and…well, Tom. And of course, it served me well when I found myself in inexplicable situations, like this one.
I’d found myself in a state that was sadly becoming routine as of late. My eyes were burning from holding back tears and my throat raw from yelling, I had barely made my way out of my backyard’s gate. It led to a seldom used shortcut between the suburban homes. As I was about to lean against a neighbor’s fence, planning to rip up tufts of grass while hoping for everything that had been going on to stop, I tripped.
I would like to say I righted myself in time. I was sure I had, for I did not collapse on the ground. But instead of cracked concrete, the ground I now stood on was the dark humus of a forest floor. Instead of tall fences, I was surrounded by looming pines. And, instead of being alone, there stood the source of my misery.
Stunned, all I could choke out with my still wavering voice was, “why are you wearing lederhosen?” For the idea I could have somehow left my house in the middle of day and, in a blink, ended up lost in a forest at night was too confusing to acknowledge. However, Tom wearing green embroidered suspenders with a matching hat was completely unexplainable in a way that had to be addressed.
A roar answered before Tom could. It was low enough to rumble the earth around me, yet still carried the same high pitch as nails on a chalkboard. Beyond the shadows, far to the left, there was a cave I had not seen. From it, I saw movement. By what little light I could see, I would have mistaken it for a human, yet it couldn’t be. It’s body was the right size and it seemed to have a head, arms and legs in similar places to a human. Humans, though, do not crawl out from cave ceilings and cling onto cliff sides.
Its appendages were as long as a huntsman spider, and the speed at which it crawled over cliffs was proportional to the speed of one running across the kitchen wall. Its joints bent wrong. They bent backwards. It was completely white. Not white as bone, rather white with the lightest shade of purple. White like death. I swear I saw its spine pressing against its skin as though it would break free from its back at any time. Then it was gone. Darted into the shadows the moon dare not touch.
Whatever that was drew a curse from Tom. He bolted elsewhere. Running seemed as good of a plan as any and I attempted to run the same direction as him.
I had no idea where I was. The plants looked foreign. The landscape was completely unpredictable. I knew I’d never been here before, not once in my life. I wished I knew where I was running. I wished I could stop. When I tried, I heard noise from behind me. Noise that sounded heavier than a human’s movement could be. So, I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
My breaths very soon became labored. The uneven ground forced me into more movement than usual to stay upright and at pace, not that I was in decent running condition to begin with.
The sounds of something -whatever had hollered from the cave- crashing close into the foliage behind me gave me a second wind. I put in all the effort I could to go faster. Even this boost could not save me from being caught.
With a heavy blow I was slammed into a nearby tree. I somehow had twisted myself around so that the creature was able to scream in my face. I still had no name for the horrid thing. Now that we were face to face, I could tell it was barely humanoid.
Where it looked vaguely human had the parts, however in a wrong way. It had the leather skin of a human, yet lacked any blood or warmth of the living. It smelled of decay. Its arms were twice the length of my legs and bent at a horrible angle to get to me. And when it screeched, I caught sight of its sunken cheeks and empty eye sockets. Everything about it spelled death.
It raised its hand. At the end were claws that looked as sharp as its teeth. In horror, I held my breath. I didn't dare break eye contact. I had no idea how fast it would swing, but I didn’t want to die here. I would not die here. I would dodge whatever it threw at me. I had to.
“Hey!” shouted Tom. I couldn’t see him from my position, what with the shrubbery and vicious monster. It’s head twisted all the way back with a sickening crack.
I didn’t hear another shout from Tom, but I did hear the loud crash of a tree falling in the forest. It was amazingly loud as it broke foliage, tore up the ground with its roots, and fell with the weight of 3 tons.
The monster’s scream was louder than the tree falling. It leapt towards the noise like a rabid macaque. Only now that it was gone did I feel safe enough to breathe. I wish I’d the capability to wait longer. The smell of decay lingered still.
I managed to push myself up with shaky legs before Tom came up to me. “Van Mousling, what do we do?” He desperately hissed. His terrified eyes kept darting to the trees.
“Who?” I breathed out. It was then he met my eyes. I had never seen all hope leave somebody’s face before, as though I had been his last chance and had chosen on a whim to deny him. The monster screamed again. It was still out of sight. I was sure both me and Tom had fear written on our faces. Mine was a fear mixed with confusion, while his was mixed with absolute awareness.
He made to leave me. “Tom,” I softly pleaded. Too loud apparently, as Tom quickly turned around to cover my mouth. His hands were rougher than I remember. Tom seemed to know what was going on, better than me at any rate. If Tom wanted me silent, and it was the loud noise of a tree falling that lured the creature away, I guessed it was attracted to sound. After a few seconds, Tom dropped his hand. I think he knew I understood. Instead of bolting away, he grabbed my wrist.
He put his finger to his lips to tell me to keep quiet, then, incredibly slowly, began to creep forward. I matched his pace and went with him.
The leaves, pine-needles and other plant debris were wet. They made no crunch, but even the sound of our shoes sinking into the spongy dirt sounded too loud. My breath was too loud. My heartbeat was too loud. I could see little. My eyes acclimated to the moonlight, yet the forest was dense enough that the trees blocked most of that. Shadows which moved in the wind frightened me. If I was dumber, I’d have pulled out my phone’s flashlight. I knew not to, though. It’d make us a beacon in this silent, dark forest. So, I did all I could do and trusted Tom.
We gained a rhythm. Tom would move one foot, then me one of mine, then Tom, then me and so on. The pace gave me time to think that I hadn’t had until just then. I came to the conclusion this must be a terrible nightmare and attempted to ground myself into either lucid dreaming or waking up. But the circumstances did not change for the eternity we spent inching forward. With the lack of changing scenery, I began to doubt the idea I was dreaming. That said, I had no other explanation for all of this.
Tom stopped. From the way he squared his shoulders, I could tell it was something different from our short lived routine. I, very slowly so the shifting of my weight made practically no noise, peered over his shoulder.
The monster was there. From this position I could see its legs were as gangly as its arms. It had its head pressed against the ground. And it rotated. Slowly.
My heart pounded louder. It turned to look right at us. I swore, though it had no eyes, it was staring us down.
It knew. It knew exactly where we were.
Tom didn’t move. I didn’t either. If I could have stopped my heart, my lungs, my brain, my veins, I would have. Even then, I don’t think it would have been enough.
Bells rang. Old, large bells. Like a clock tower striking midnight. Like a school bell signaling the end. Like the devout calling for a prayer.
The creature heard it too. It screamed. When it did so, it looked as though it’s body was trying to expunge it’s soul. It jumped towards the bells, to and fro the trees, without touching the ground.
The bells continued longer than any regular chime should. Tom waited until the creature couldn’t be near us, then dragged us towards the sound at brisk pace. I was truly sick of going from one extreme to another. Our slow crawl had been nerve wracking and our swift run was body wrecking.
I didn’t want to be anywhere near that thing, nightmare or not. Running in the same direction as the creature seemed like an awful idea. Bells though, meant other people. People who, if they were chiming the bells, had a method to deal with whatever that was.
Our path was relatively the same as the creature’s. At least, I assumed so. The trees had chunks missing from the monster’s travel. If that's what it could do to a tree, I would hate to know what it could do to flesh. We kept running.
The bells were growing ever louder. From over the bells, I swore I heard more screams from more monsters. There were more of them. Much more. And we were all going in the same direction. I was terrified. I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t know what to do. So I continued to do what I had been doing. I trusted Tom. And he was determined to get us to the source of those bells.
The trees ended where a village began. The village was as familiar as the forest. The houses were Bavarian, as were the villager’s clothes. The closest place with houses like this was a tourist trap of a faux German town that was in a neighboring State. And it couldn't have been that town because there would have been more plain-clothed tourists. Not to mention that town resided in the mountains rather than a temperate forest. I had no clue where I was, but I did know where I wasn’t. I wasn’t anywhere near my home.
Tom pulled me towards the village. The villagers, dressed in similar lederhosen as Tom, were fearlessly noisy. They called out jabs and jibes as they boldly drank from their tankards and dined on pretzels. There was even a band, if it could be called that, messily playing what sounded like a polka folk song over the bells’ chimes. They all looked similar to me. Or well, maybe not me. They looked more similar to my gray-haired cousins than I, though that meant they looked close enough to be my relatives. They also all looked very similar, as in they all looked like they could be the same person and/or family, in my opinion.
One cloaked figure stood between the crowd and the woodland edge. A creature leapt to them before we could get beyond the treeline. Without flinching, they shot the monster with their crossbow. It struck true. The creature immediately convulsed, then rapidly decayed until it was only dust. All that remained was the arrow that had been fired into it. It was over so quickly. Whoever it was moved as though these monsters were nothing. In a sense, after they shot them, they were. And it was this cloaked figure that Tom approached.
“Van Mousling!” He called out the name of the guy he mistook me for. When Van Mousling looked over, I could see why. He and I could be twins. He had my long lashes and round cheeks, but his face seemed more harsh in a way I couldn’t pinpoint. He held none of my concern in his posture. Every movement of his was sure. He gave off an air of pragmatism that I deeply envied. He looked as cool as I wished I was.
He aimed his crossbow slightly above Tom’s head. “Duck.” Tom did and I was pulled with him. I heard it strike flesh. The arrow bounced off my back without piercing me. Then I felt the weight of some dust on my back. I tried to ignore what the dust was, or what would have happened a moment later.
We continued our approach. We made it past the very first house, now behind Van Mousling but not yet to the people. Once we were behind, Van Mousling took a sweeping gaze around him.
He lowered his weapon, however did not drop it. He raised the hand that was not holding it up in a fist. The crowd cheered and the bells stopped at his command. No other monsters approached. They must’ve all been dealt with.
Only when it was quiet again did Van Mousling seem to take a hard look at Tom and I. “What did you do?” The question was to Tom, but he looked at me when he asked it. He focused on my clothes. My jeans looked out of place compared to the villagers’ traditional breeches. My shirt and tennis shoes too. Somehow, I doubted my clashing colors were what caught his judgmental gaze.
“I didn’t do anything this time,” whined Tom. “He is the one who was talking near Deadman’s Den.” Upon hearing that, Van Mousling narrowed his eyes harder. This time he seemed to be looking at my face. My ears. My darting eyes.
He made up his mind. He aimed the crossbow right for my heart. I raised my hands in surrender and tried not to let my shaking knees drag me to the ground.
“Step away from it, Katze,” commanded Van Mousling. Tom (or not Tom? Never was Tom? Now he is Katze?) Katze looked back at me. I had no clue what he saw, if he saw what Van Mousling saw, but he decided to step away. I didn’t know how much I had been relying on his hold on me to keep me feeling secure until he was gone. He made his way, still between Van Mousling and the rest of them, yet far from me all the same.
Van Mousling spoke when Tom (not Tom. Katze) was away from me. “What are you?”
I wetted my throat, took a breath, and answered. “I’m Jerry Mouse.” That brought a murmur from the crowd.
“A poor attempt at a shape-shifter then? Katze, did you crack its egg before it hatched?”
Katze frowned. “I said I didn’t do anything! He was already like this when I found him.”
“Must have happened some time ago then. He’s obviously not from the village, yet if he isn't a monster there is nowhere else he could have come from.” Van Mousling stated it as though it was clear as the weather.
“I'm not a monster,” I said. A poor defense, but I had nothing else really. The crowd became rowdy with many insults about me being something or the rather. Vampire. Weremouse. Wendigo. Ghoul. Demon. Zombie. Buggane. Oni. Kelpie. “I’m not. I swear, I’m not a monster.”
Without a change in expression, Van Mousling studied me harder. He didn't move his crossbow away from me. My arms were getting sore. Without anything better to do, I studied him as well. His crossbow was not his only weapon. Not only did he seem to have many sharp objects sheathed around his body, he also had many vials of unknown substances which glowed strange colors. His hat was very, now that I had a good look at it, cowboy-like.
“Katze,” Van Mousling addressed Katze so suddenly that the cat man jumped. “Describe your first meeting with this thing.”
Katze recounted, “I was walking in the forest, near Deadman's Den-”
A voice from the crowd heckled, “what were you doing near Deadman’s Den?”
Katze pointedly ignored the crowd. “Then, he appeared. One second there was nobody, and the next he was by my side. I thought him to be you, who emerged from a tree or some such. However, He spoke loud enough to awaken the Deadmen, so I knew it couldn’t be you. And he didn’t recognize your name, so I knew it wasn’t a resident or a relative. I tried to lure the Deadmen away, and we made our way here.”
“If you knew it was unlikely that he wasn’t supernatural, why bring him to town?”
“He, well.” Either ashamed or embarrassed, but flustered all the same, Katze looked to the ground. “He knew my name. My given name.”
The crowd became even more frenzied.
“Everyone knows your name, Katze!” Called out someone with a pretzel.
“Ja, every monster in the forest has it memorized!” Someone else agreed.
Katze finally lost his temper and turned to the crowd with a very familiar glare across his face. “My first name! Does anyone here know my first name?”
Stunned, the crowd took a moment to respond.
“Is it Das?”
“It’s not Der?”
“Oh, oh! Hans?”
“Rumpelstiltskin?”
“I got it! John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!”
“Hey, that's my name too!”
All Katze did was shake his head. No one in the crowd seemed to be making a real attempt. They all didn't know his first name. And, if I had gotten it right, it meant Katze was Tom.
That didn't quite make sense either. I knew Tom's full name was ‘Tom Jasper Cat’. His family sometimes added a jr. after, but it wasn’t in there legally. I had never heard the name ‘Katze’ before, ever.
Van Mousling took his eyes off of me, but kept his head fixed in my direction. “Is there anyone who would use your given name, Katze?”
“No. The people who know it exclusively refer to me as Katze. Nobody has said my given name in years.”
“You there, Creature.” Van Mousling addressed me. “What’s his name?”
“Full name or just first name?”
“First and Last.”
“Well, I thought he was my roommate, Tom Cat, so I called him Tom. But, it seems like his name is Tom Katze instead?” I was rambling, guessing, trying to find the right words to not get shot.
Katze nodded in confirmation. With that nod, Van Mousling lowered his weapon.
“Jerry Van Mousling! Is this guy really not a monster?!” Cried someone in the crowd. Apparently, appearance wasn’t the only thing we shared. This man also shared my first name? And the man who looked so much like Tom was also named Tom? I could see why there was some muttering when I first said my name.
"Where are you from?" asked Van Mousling.
"California," I said, but the crowd just silently stared in nonrecognition. "America?" I unsurely tacked on.
"Oh, America!"
"Ja, that would explain the jeans!"
"Wait, are we in America? I forgot."
Van Mousling studied me for a while longer, looking at me just as intensely as I had looked at him. Then he handed off the crossbow he wielded to a man with a bushy mustache.
"I am going to my study to grab some materials. With them, we will know for sure whether or not he is truly a creature of the night." Then, he turned to me, with a no nonsense glare. "Don't give him a reason to shoot. I will return shortly." His cape trailed behind him in billowing waves as he walked speedily across the town.
I was left, alone, surrounded by a crowd of almost familiar faces. They mostly argued among themselves whether I was friend or foe, if I could read minds, if I would end up killing them all.
I probably should’ve cared more about my situation. But, all of the adrenaline from my emotional and then life-threatening encounters was rapidly leaving my body now that I stopped moving. All I could think about was how badly I needed a break. My arms were burning from holding them up this whole time. I, deliberately as slow and obvious as possible, began to lower my hands. Surely I could lower them without being seen as a threat.
"He's moving, he's moving!" chanted someone in the crowd that looked too much like one of my cousins. The man with the crossbow raised it to me, yet his hold was shakier than Van Mousling.
I continued at a snail's pace. I tried to focus more on the task than the weapon. Once my hands were lowered, I maneuvered myself into a sitting position. I began to overthink how I should sit half-way through, because sitting with crossed legs might seem like some occult thing, right? And kneeling could also be something like that, or at least it enough for the frenzied crowd to say it was. I sat with my legs outstretched. However childish I looked sitting like that, at least it wouldn't be considered suspicious.
"He's trying to form a star with his body!"
"I knew he was a demon!"
I felt the wind rush past, and then heard the sound of some hard "thunk!" into the wood behind me. I turned around, and only when I saw the arrow stuck in a light-post did I register I was almost shot.
"Ah, I missed!"
"Well, don't just stand there, Dumpkoph! Reload, reload!"
I couldn't move. I felt like I was elsewhere, watching those in front of me fumble the arrows and the crossbow. Each of them were yelling instructions, some of them contradicting, and each of them trying to be the one to fix the problem. All of them, that is, except Tom Katze.
"What are you doing! All of this shouting about being unarmed is going to attract a real monster!" shouted Katze, equally loud.
"Katze! Isn't that a monster?"
"I doubt Van Mousling would leave us alone with a monster."
"If it's not a monster, then what could it be?"
"You heard him. He's-" Flustered, Katze bit his lip, just as Tom always did when he was over-thinking something. "He's an American."
"But why is he sitting like that?"
"That's just how Americans sit."
"Oh, that makes sense," said the man holding the crossbow. "Sorry for almost shooting you. Water under the bridge, ja?"
"Yeah, it's fine," I whispered, as sure as I was about this as I was about everything else that was going on.
The rest of the time until Van Mousling's return passed without incident. I stayed seated on the floor, disassociated and not truly thinking about anything. The crowd bickered amongst themselves about nit-picky, tiny details. Tom Katze did not join them. He looked around like he was expecting more monsters, which did not help my nerves one bit.
When Van Mousling returned, he did so with a thick, ornate tome. He eyed the stray arrow, then the frivolously arguing crowd. Then he looked at me with an unreadable expression. He reached, not for his weapon, but for a long vial of what looked to be salt. With reference from a page in the tome, he created a salt circle.
“You there,” he addressed me once he finished. “Get in the circle without disturbing it.” I did as he commanded. Slowly, of course, I didn't trust the crowd to not try and kill me again. I was terrified that my wobbly legs would make me misstep, break the salt circle, and cause my doom.
Once I was stood as still as a soldier in the middle of the circle, Van Mousling lit a match and dropped it onto the salt. The circle instantly erupted in blue flames. I flinched, but stayed perfectly still otherwise. There was no heat, there was no smoke. Only a blinding wall of flames which raised higher and higher until, as suddenly as it occurred, it vanished. Only smoldering minerals were left behind as the last flickers disappeared in the wind.
“Van Mousling, Van Mousling! What's that mean?” Chittered someone in the crowd.
“It means,” Van Mousling let out a heavy breath. “He is no supernatural being.”
The crowd cheered. I was glad that they were happy I wasn't a monster, though I found it hard to be all that excited. If anything, I kept watch over the one with the mustache and crossbow, who could've decided in his merriment to let loose another arrow.
Neither Katze nor Van Mousling celebrated with the rest. Katze was nervously watching as Van Mousling drew another, different circle. I wished one of the noisy townsfolk noticed and asked him about it. I was too nervous to ask him myself.
“Again, in the circle, if you please.” Van Mousling requested. This time, with more of a respectful tone.
I got in the circle and Van Mousling lit the match. This time, the flames came towards me and circled my right arm as quick as a mouse. There were three of these bright, red flames. They encircled my arm, faster and faster. Then, two of the flames shot off, like arrows. The villagers screamed. They didn’t appreciate arrow-like things coming for them, it seemed.
Van Mousling raised a fist and they fell into line. Around his right hand, one of the flames circled. The other flame...
“Katze, what did you do?”
“I told you, I didn't do anything!” Katze insisted as a flame encircled his right arm as well. He tried to brush it off, but it stubbornly stayed with him. “Van Mousling's spell is broken!”
“It's not broken,” Van Mousling insisted. “Nor is it likely that these circumstances are your fault.” Van Mousling turned to me. “I believe I understand the problem here.“
“You do?” I prompted.
“Yes. You are visiting from another dimension.” Van Mousling's words made no sense. I mean, they did and they didn't. Different dimensions existing? Somehow being sent into a different dimension without knowing how? That sort of stuff made no sense.
But really, neither did monsters in a forest, nor a town of look-alikes, nor Tom Katze, nor Jerry Van Mousling. So, while I desperately tried to find some sense in all of this, I accepted the fact that what Van Mousling said could be possible. I could really be in a alternate universe.
“But why was the fire around me? I didn't drag him here!” Shouted Katze.
Van Mousling took in the sight of the crowd, which began to crowd around as crowds tend to do. “It is a matter best discussed in private. Until the matter is resolved, this Jerry Mouse will be my guest at my home. Katze, I insist that you come over as well. For the rest of you, I implore you to wait so you may get the story in it's entirety.”
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