It all turned out better than expected.

Brackenheart watched the horror unfold before him, and he desperately wanted to allow a malicious smile to cross his face. "Who would do such a thing to Berrywing?" a cat howled in despair, and Brackenheart enjoyed the scent of their fear. I would do such a thing to Berrywing. After all, there is someone else who is more deserving of the deputy position.

Brackenheart turned as a gray she-cat slinked up to him, and he knew the grim look on her face was merely a masquerade. When she thought no one was looking, she let the mocking grin show. "We should be proud of ourselves, Brackenheart. We did it," she hissed. Brackenheart stood, grooming the gray she-cat behind the ears.

"We make a wonderful team, Whisperpaw. I'm so glad you followed in my footsteps. Such a shame your brother didn't want to join us. No, he wanted to fool with herbs," Brackenheart scoffed. The brown tabby glanced around, his amber gaze darkening. "Let's continue this conversation far from camp. We will attract an audience soon enough."

Whisperpaw nodded, flicking her tail. "The usual place, father?" she murmured. Brackenheart nodded, and he turned and trotted out of camp. The deep undergrowth and low-hanging branches brushed his pelt, but he took no notice. His belly rubbed across the ground as he slowly crept through the forest, ears perked. "Has anyone followed us?" Brackenheart asked after a moment of silence.

Whisperpaw glanced over her shoulder, shaking her head. "No. We're all alone here," she meowed. Brackenheart let out the breath he had been holding in, and he lay down on a feather-lined nest hidden in the shade of a willow tree. "I have one final task for you, Whisperpaw," he hissed. Whisperpaw's eyes widened with dismay. "Final? You mean I can't work with you anymore?" she whined.

Brackenheart sighed in exasperation, rolling a pebble beneath his huge paw. "You sound like a helpless kit. You're not helpless, Whisperpaw. You drowned Twigstripe a moon ago, you poisoned Emberpaw a season ago, you strangled Acornfoot yesterday and you helped me murder Berrywing just today. Whisperpaw, you must follow your own path. So this is the last assignment I give to you."

Whisperpaw sighed, plopping down in the wet grass. "Alright. What is it? I'll do the best I can on this one," she meowed. Brackenheart snorted, standing up. "You'd better, Whisperpaw. You may be strong enough to have defeated all the other witnesses and candidates for deputy, but that's not your best. Now, open your ears because I'll be very specific," he ordered. Whisperpaw straightened her posture, nodding. "I am ready to receive my mission, father," she meowed monotonously.

Brackenheart began to pace before Whisperpaw, tail lashing and sending dust spiraling into the air. "Your task is to assassinate Honeystar. It has to be tomorrow night at exactly moonhigh. Bring in deathberries and freshkill so the Clan will suspect she only ate bad prey. Make sure the marks are clean, and disguise your scent. If she fights back, don't show her mercy. If someone sees you attack her, kill them first. If you continue to fight with Honeystar knowing there was somecat watching, they would have alarmed the rest of the Clan before you succeed. Don't leave until you're sure she's dead. Honeystar's only candidate for deputy is me now. I'll be deputy, and then leader by tomorrow night. Now, remember every detail of your task. One mistake and I'll have to kill you to protect myself. Got that?"

Whisperpaw nodded slowly, trembling a bit. "Yes, Brackenheart."

-linebreak-

Brackenheart's prediction had come true; Honeystar appointed him deputy. Everything's falling perfectly into place. Now it's time for me to move in, Whisperpaw thought, creeping towards the leader's den. The guard was asleep on duty, and his head was angled towards the forest. Perfect. He won't see a thing.

Whisperpaw continued to roll the deathberries under her paw, her breathing muffled by the thick rabbit fur in her mouth. She stopped for a moment, straining to listen. She heard Honeystar's wheezing and snoring from inside the den, and she smirked. Whisperpaw stopped, dropping the rabbit at her paws. She bit off half of it and swallowed it. The remaining half was stuffed with deathberries, and Whisperpaw wiped the poisonous juice on the grass. She then grabbed a fallen branch and nudged the rabbit into the den. Whisperpaw continued to nudge it until it was a mouselength from Honeystar.

Her pelt smelled strongly of ferns as she weaved around the amber-furred leader, a soft maniacal purr coming from her throat. Whisperpaw raised her paw and slashed down. Her sharp claws collided with the elderly leader's side, and she awoke with a frightened squeak. Whisperpaw quickly ripped some moss out of Honeystar's nest and stuffed it in her mouth. Honeystar gagged and convulsed, and Whisperpaw stared into the leader's terrified eyes.

"You're too weak to lead RiverClan a moment longer," she hissed quietly, scouring her claws across Honeystar's eyes. Whisperpaw then pounced, crushing the air out of Honeystar's body and biting savagely at her throat. She was aware that Honeystar was flailing, trying to throw her off, but she continued to slash and bite. The clawmarks ringed her neck, and blood seeped through the moss in her mouth.

Finally, Whisperpaw yanked the moss out of the leader's mouth and squeezed deathberry juice out of the rabbit into her mouth. Honeystar moaned and twitched, stomach tightening and paws flailing. The dark red juice that trickled down her chin was the same color as the blood around her neck. The fools won't know the difference.

Honeystar gave one last gasp before going limp. Blood still dripped out of her throat wound, and her blue eyes were glazed. Whisperpaw turned, snickering. Mission accomplished. And now it's time to follow my own dark, isolated path.

-linebreak-

"Everything went better than I thought, Whisperpaw. RiverClan is so easy to fool," Brackenstar chuckled darkly, licking a paw. Whisperpaw nodded, narrowing her eyes. "When are you going to give me my warrior name? I've done your work for you, and you said I needed to follow my own path. I can't do that with those pesky weaklings crawling up behind me every second of the day," she snapped.

Brackenstar pondered, twitching his ear. "Your ceremony will be held when we get back," he decided. Suddenly, a familiar scent twisted up his nose, and he growled. "Go on ahead, Whisperpaw. I smell your annoying brother approaching," Brackenstar grumbled. Whisperpaw nodded in understanding, stalking off into the undergrowth.

Just as the gray she-cat vanished, a thin brown tom appeared. His green eyes were in slits as he padded up to his father, teeth bared. "What do you exactly plan to do with all this destruction? You got what you wanted. You got your power, Brackenstar," the wiry tom hissed. Brackenstar chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Foolish Beechpaw. Being leader is not all the power one can get," Brackenstar hissed, cuffing his son over the ear. "There's far more things I can accomplish as long as you don't get in my way. Things have already been going better than planned."

Beechpaw shook his head. "Typical villains. They make friends, manipulate them, leave them in the dust and then claim everything for themselves. Every cat in the Dark Forest made the same mistake. I'll stop this before it goes any further. You can't harm me because I have StarClan on my side."

Brackenstar snickered. "StarClan? That's just a myth for idiotic kits. I only took on the leader name because if not those weaklings wouldn't respect me!" he shouted, amusement laced in his voice. Beechpaw narrowed his eyes. "You don't believe in our ancestors. That makes you easier to defeat because you think more of strength and power rather than following etiquette to keep peace within the Clan."

Brackenstar snorted, licking a paw. "Enough chatting. Let's fight, medicine tom," he growled. Beechpaw stepped back, shaking his head. "I won't fight. But they will."

Brackenstar's eyes widened as cats poured out of the trees, yowling and spitting. I didn't even scent them coming! The dark brown leader vanished under claws and fur, and he screamed like a she-kit as he was torn to shreds. Beechpaw only watched as his father's body was thrown into the river and carried away. If Brackenstar had not been so ambitious, maybe he would've cared.

Maybe things would have been better than planned.

-linebreak-

Not soon after his father, Beechpaw died at his sister's claws. The afterlife wwasn't what he expected; instead of the starry land in his dreams, he was trapped in a poisoned paradise. Here, he had more work than when he was alive. He had prophecies to interpret, lives to watch, and most importantly no control over the living.

Whisperpaw, now Whisperfoot, was rising in power. She was gathering recruits and having regular meetings. The stronger Whisperfoot got, the more hurt Beechpaw felt. The afterlife was not what he expected, and things should have been better than planned.

Whisperfoot should have been stopped.

Author's Note: This oneshot was written for the LawlClan monthly writing challenge. Pay close attention to any named characters in this story, for there will be a sequel with them playing major roles!

I hope that you enjoyed. Have a cupcake for reading. And remember; things might be better or worse than planned.