A short one-shot, set after Firestar is dead, the Clans have continued and blah blah everything is normal…but wait…something is changing…dun dun dun!
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"Ah, Darkstorm, how are you enjoying being deputy?" purred Birchleg, wandering over to the RiverClan deputy. Darkstorm's pale, almost purple eyes followed the ThunderClan warrior warily.
"Well enough. How is your Clan this leaf bare?" growled Darkstorm, watching as Birchleg settled himself in front of the dark tabby tom.
"Wonderful. Sorreltail's kits are fine warriors now, and Brackenstar is doing a fantastic job with the Clan. We're quite happy. How is RiverClan doing?"
"We are getting by." Darkstorm bent to sweep his tongue over his midnight black stripes. His eyes glittered, never leaving Birchleg. Beyond him, the four Clan leaders consulted each other before leaping to the Rock in the center of the clearing. Above them, the stars were barely visible through a thin sheen of mist.
"Oh look, the Gathering is starting! It looks like Mistystar is speaking first." Birchleg rose and padded to the front of the crowd, smiling up at Brackenstar and Whiteriver, the new ThunderClan deputy.
"RiverClan is doing fine this leaf bare; we have found an excellent supply of juniper berries and water mint in our territory, and WindClan is welcome to it, if their problems with belly ache persist. We also would like to welcome two new warriors and our new deputy. Darkstorm, we know that we will serve us well as deputy in the coming seasons. Duskfang and Briarpatch, you have certainly earned your warrior names. That is all I have to say," Mistystar finished, and stepped back, nodding to Onestar.
The old WindClan deputy ambled forward and began his speech about sparse hunting and some flooding of the area around the lake; nothing terribly important. Darkstorm filed the information away in his mind, in case he would need to use it later. He lifted an ebony-furred paw and swiped at his face casually. He flexed the muscles in his shoulder. He unsheathed his claws, and then sheathed them again. He purred, enjoying the slick sound that the action made.
Finally, Russetstar finished introducing her new apprentices, and the Gathering was over.
"Well, I'll see you next gathering, Darkstorm!" called Birchleg as ThunderClan disappeared across the log that served as a bridge to the island.
"Yes, you will see me," muttered Darkstorm under his breath, an eerie fire in his eyes.
"Darkstorm! Quit daydreaming, we're leaving!" Mistystar's lilting voice turned his head, and he loped away, trailing after his Clan as they drifted away from the log bridge. Darkstorm caught up with Mistystar, who was chatting cheerfully with Pebblepaw, her apprentice.
"Mistystar, may I speak to you?" he growled, fixing her with an intense stare. The leader cocked her head, but nodded and meowed goodbye to Pebblepaw. The apprentice raced away, leaving Darkstorm and Mistystar alone, two foxlengths away from the rest of the Clan.
"What do you want, Darkstorm? I'm tired, and I would like to return to camp as quickly as possible. Is their something that bothered you at the Gathering?" mewed Mistystar, looking worriedly into her deputy's eyes.
Darkstorm slowed his pace, waiting until RiverClan was out of sight in the mists in front of him. A shadowy smile crept across his face.
"Darkstorm?" hissed Mistystar loudly, leaping in front of him. A low, rumbling sound boiled from the deputy's throat, and it took a moment for Mistystar to realize that he was laughing. The fur on the back of her neck bristled, and a cold chill swept down her spine.
"What-"
"Ha! I thought I might have trouble with you, Mistystar. It seems I was wrong. Your weak as a newborn kit!" the dusky tabby spat, his unnatural eyes dancing. Mistystar's breath caught, and her breath came in short gasps.
"What do you want?" she quavered, stepping back. Darkstorm didn't reply. Mistystar flinched as she heard the oily squish of long claws sliding into marsh ground. The leader's blue eyes were wide and frantic.
"Darkstorm, don't do this! You could be a great leader, without this! It isn't necessary!" Mistystar tried to back away, but Darkstorm only stepped closer.
"Shut up!" hissed Darkstorm, his eyes flashing. He snarled, exposing long, glittering white fangs. "I have waited for this day since I became an apprentice, you cowardly old fool. You aren't about to spoil it for me."
With a menacing hiss, the night-black tabby tom launched himself in a flying leap straight at the RiverClan leader's throat. Mistystar turned to catch the blow on her shoulder, but Darkstorm's speed and weight threw her back around, and his powerful jaws grasped her neck tightly. Mistystar scrabbled her paws against Darkstorm's powerful chest, but found herself barely grazing the fur of a cat as sturdy as a rock. Darkstorm bit down hard, then released the blue-gray she-cat. She dropped to the ground, and Darkstorm flicked his paw to her shoulder.
"I half expected you to put up a fight, Mistystar. After Hawkfrost had such a hard time of it, and got himself killed in the act, I was almost afraid." Darkstorm leaned in closer to Mistystar's head. Her shallow, desperate breathing whistled in his ear. "I'm not afraid anymore." With those last words, Darkstorm raised his paw and slashed down, laughing manically as Mistystar's steaming blood poured from the wound.
"I'm not afraid!" howled the tom, throwing back his head and howling to the sky. "I Darkstorm, leader of RiverClan, am not afraid!"