Erro! So, This is my first cat death story. Actually, it's my first story, period. I'm going to keep this cat's name anonymous, and you guys can guess! For my next post, I will announce who got it right, and you will all win a plushy of the dead cat (you can choose whether it's dead or alive ):D
Anywho, here goes!
I padded through the moonlit undergrowth, keeping my eyes open for useful herbs. It was the prime season herb growth, and I was stocking up early, for leaf-bare. My senses were clogged with the flavors of wild garlic, borage leaves, and catmint, as I padded in the direction of camp, taking care not to drop any. The forest was calm and quiet, but I felt a prickle of unease. My fur stood on the back of my neck as I tried to figure out what was wrong. I felt a rising panic, and fought to stay calm. Why in the name of Starclan was I freaking out like that? I quickened my pace towards camp; maybe I'd feel better after some rest. Even as I reassured myself, I became more worried. There was most definitely something going on.
"Starclan, is it you who is making me so anxious?" I whispered to the starry sky.
Run… get to camp, before it's too late… the darkness has come to take the future. Run…
Okay, those thoughts weren't mine, not at all. I felt a rush of terror, and, dropping the herbs, broke into a frantic run.
Not nearly as soon as I wished, I was at camp. I paused at the entrance, slowing to a crawl as I crept silently into the sleeping camp. Instinctively, I checked on the frail elders, before heading to the nursery. What I saw made my blood freeze in my veins. A large, white tom was creeping among the sleeping queens, pulling tiny bundles of fur from the nests. I bit back a gasp of horror and retreated into some bushes, thinking furiously of a plan. I was almost ready to put my plan into action, when I felt needle-sharp teeth grip my scruff, hard. I froze instantly.
"Good she-cat… I wouldn't want to hurt that pretty little neck of yours. Now just stay quiet and no one gets hurt." I instinctively unsheathed my claws, but held still. I watched in horror as the white tom, who I recognized to be none other than Shadowclan's deputy, pulled another kit out of the nursery.
When he was finished gathering kits, he left them in a sleepy, dazed heap by the nursery, and began heading towards the bushes.
"Help me take the kits to camp, before one of the queens wake-" He stopped mid sentence, seeing me petrified under my captor.
"How much did she see?" he asked coldly.
"Too much, I'm afraid." The tom holding me chuckled darkly, and I shivered with fear.
The deputy narrowed his eyes, and unsheathed his claws. "You know what to do. When she's taken care of, help me with these kits."
Letting out a gasp of fear, I wrenched my scruff away from the tom, and spun around to face him. He was large, easily twice my size, and had a deeply scarred muzzle. I braced myself, and bared my teeth, letting out a quiet warning hiss. Unfortunately, I was distracted then, because I heard a twig crack under the paws of the deputy. Letting out a snarl of rage, I turned to chase the kit thief. That was a mistake.
The scarred tom growled triumphantly, pouncing on me with unsheathed claws. I crumpled underneath him, my legs too weak to hold up his bulk. With a dark satisfaction, he brought his jaws to my neck and closed them. I thrashed on the ground, and he sunk his teeth in deeper, holding me. He dug his claws in and bit down harder, and harder, before ripping his teeth back out. It was agonizing, and I wanted with all my heart to scream, and to alert the clan, but something inside of me had broken. I choked and retched, as fluids filled my lungs and throat. I felt it staining my fur, hot and sticky. I sputtered and coughed, trying desperately to draw in air, but to no avail. I was drowning in my own blood, forced to watch as the toms padded away with their spoils. My vision blurred, and darkness closed in around the edges. Soon enough, my vision faded altogether, and I gave in to the warm blackness.
I later woke in a grassy clearing. The air smelled of herbs, flowers, and fresh-kill, and the air was blowing with a soft, warm breeze.
"W-where am I?" I murmured, disoriented.
"Guess- you've always been a smart she-cat" said an achingly familiar voice. I opened my eyes in disbelief. My long-dead mentor was standing over me, smiling warmly. I gasped and leapt to my feet, noticing for the first time that my wounds were healed, and I felt full of energy. Of course.
"I'm in Starclan, aren't I?" I asked quietly.
My mentor nodded. "Indeed you are. Don't look so forlorn. It was your time, and you were more than ready. You will be of much use here, helping to shape the clans' future, and that should be enough to keep you content." I nodded in return, but inside I felt lost.
Why me? This shouldn't have happened! I braced myself then, and vowed to make the prophecy I had received moons before come true. I would help to save my clan.