Title: Everlasting Darkness
Author: If Love Were Flowers
Genre: Adventure/Drama
Summary: What if Firestar had died in the battle between LionClan and BloodClan? What if Scourge took control of the forest and made it his, and what if he took someone left behind as his apprentice? Scorn is the heir of the darkest clan in the forest. And to take total control he will kill anything and anyone. Even his own brother.
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A shutter jerked Firestar back into the world of the living. Around him, the battle between LionClan and BloodClan raged, his ears filled with hisses and spits, yowls of pain and triumph, and claws cutting through fur. Nearby, his nephew, Cloudtail, struggled to keep hold of the small BloodClan leader, Scourge, digging his teeth into the small cat's leg. Scourge slashed his claws down the pale tom's side, icy blue eyes glittering in delight as blood sprayed out, staining the younger tom's pelt.
"Scourge!" snarled Firestar, staggering to his feet, "Turn and face me!"
Scourge whipped around, forgetting Cloudtail was digging into his leg and facing Firestar, shock spread across his face, "How… I killed you."
"You did," spat Firestar, the fur along his spine beginning to bristle defiantly, "but I am a leader with nine lives who fights alongside StarClan. Can you say as much?"
Scourge hesitated, but only for a moment. With a snarl he grabbed Cloudtail's scruff, hurling him through the air with amazing strength and smashing him against the Great Rock. He turned back to Firestar, flexing his reinforced claws.
Firestar launched himself at Scourge with all the speed he could muster. He felt power coursing through his veins, felt the brush of wind along his fur, the earth beneath his claws, felt the determination of every cat behind him, felt his prophecy rearing overhead, preparing to be fulfilled. He slashed at Scourge, scoring his claws down the side of the BloodClan leader and narrowly avoiding a fatal blow.
Firestar stumbled backwards, preparing to lunge back into the fight when a blur of darkness caught his eyes. Scourge was fast, faster then Firestar could've imagined, and stronger, with a snarl he smashed his paw into the side of Firestar's head, sending him toppling sideways, one of his legs crumpling awkwardly beneath him and a sickening crack filling the air. Firestar let out a yowl, his leg burned, and he could not move, his green eyes opened wide with terror as he watched Scourge leap back at him, teeth aimed strait for his throat.
Cries of shock filled the air, and from nearby the slim form of a pale ginger she-cat broke away from battle, letting out a pained wail at the sight of Scourge digging his teeth into Firestar's throat. Firestar let out a loose gurgle, blood bubbling from his mouth, coughing it onto the ground, his green eyes starting to fade.
The form of a black-and-white tom barreled into the side of the ginger she-cat, Sandstorm, amber eyes vivid and hot. It was Bone, the deputy of Scourge, who had survived the mauling of the apprentices. He grinned maniacally, blood dripping from a shallow wound in his neck, splattering across his chest and paws. With a snarl, he lunged towards Sandstorm as she struggled to her paws, raking his long claws down the side of her face and shoving her sideways.
"Firestar!" wailed Sandstorm, eyes burning as she watched the fire-colored tom jerk again as he came back to life, and then spit up more blood from the terrible wound in his neck. Scourge dug his teeth harder into the leader's neck, determined to kill him. Staggering up from the side of Great Rock, Cloudtail rushed towards Scourge in an attempt to knock him away, but a russet-colored BloodClan warrior blocked his path, easily knocking the weakened warrior down.
Firestar's body continued to die, and every time he lost a life, he stayed dead for a little bit longer. The cats around him held their breath, waiting, hoping, praying to their ancestors that he would live, that he would survive, that their forest would be saved. But, with a final, ragged gasp for breath and longing look towards Sandstorm, Firestar closed his eyes, never to open them again.
Scourge took a step backwards, releasing Firestar's neck and letting it fall to the ground. He took a careful step backwards, as if unsure whether or not Firestar would stay dead this time. After a few moments, a grin spread across the small leader's face, his blue eyes widened, glowed, and he threw back his head, letting out a hysterical cackle heard by every cat in that clearing. A laugh so full of evil, so full of darkness and the pleasure of killing that it sent shivers down the spine of every warrior.
Bone narrowed his amber eyes, a small smirk playing on his face as Scourge turned around to him, blue eyes glittering, he hissed, "Kill them all."
Bone threw back his head and let out a cry. (Which was more like a dog howl then an actual yowl.) Around him, the cats of BloodClan did the same, and the cats of the forest stopped fighting, confused and disoriented. And that's when the end began. BloodClan tore through the ranks, slashing at throats, throwing down and biting into flanks and bellies. It was more of a massacre than an actual fight. Spurred by the death of the flame-colored leader, the BloodClan cats fought with twice their usual strength, easily driving back the terrified forest cats.
"Sandstorm!" a gray shape blurred as it leaped to her side through the air, ramming into the side of the black-and-white tom, Bone, who was pinning her down, Graystripe arrived on the scene. Bone hissed, jumping back to his paws and leaping at Graystripe, only to have Bramblepaw jump between them, trying to drive the much-bigger tom away.
"We have to get back to the camp," gasped Graystripe, helping Sandstorm to her paws, "The elders and kits are ready to run. We have to go now before BloodClan follows us and ambushes them before they can escape."
"But what about the apprentices? The rest of the warriors?" demanded Sandstorm, "What about Cinderpelt and Fernpaw and-" she was cut off by a wail from Bramblepaw, the apprentice had had his throat slashed open like so many others and was now bleeding out. Graystripe pushed her with his head, and when she hesitated, pushed her harder.
"If they're determined enough, they'll be able to find us," growled Graystripe, "Now, move!" Sandstorm turned away from the fighting, slipping into the thorn bushes surrounding Fourtrees and darting up the slope into ThunderClan territory. They didn't know that two ice-blue eyes were following their every paw step, and had overheard every word that had come out of their mouth.
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Sandstorm panted, her flanks were stinging, her paws ached, but Graystripe urged her forward. Glancing back at the gray warrior, she felt a pang of guilt; Graystripe had much worse injuries then herself, and yet she was the one giving in to stopping. It must've been twice as hard for him to leave the battle – Stormpaw and Featherpaw, his kits, were still back there, dead or dying.
"We're almost there," Graystripe rasped, the two of them had reached the ravine heading into the heart of their camp, and relief poured through them when they realized that the stench of BloodClan was far behind them. At the entrance of the camp, Willowpelt, who had been sitting guard, stood up, her dark blue eyes filled with worry at the sight of the exhausted and battered warriors.
"Where's Firestar?" she asked, her voice cracked with worry, "Where's… where's Whitestorm?" Graystripe hurried past her, ignoring her question, and her blue gaze turned to Sandstorm, begging her to answer. Sandstorm hesitated, then slowly lowered her eyes and shook her head. Willowpelt let out a small wail, sinking to the forest floor and burying her nose in her paws.
Sandstorm let out a sigh, hurrying past Willowpelt and to the elder's den where Speckletail was shooing the elders out. One-Eye growled darkly, exiting first, and was soon followed by Smallear and Dappletail.
"We're all here," growled Speckletail in her raspy voice, "Where's Graystripe?"
"Here," the gray deputy called from the nursery where he had gone to fetched Willowpelt's three kits, Rainkit, Sootkit, and Sorrelkit. Sootkit let out a small wail, shuffling his paws and uncertain of what was going on. Roused by her son's distress, Willowpelt composed herself, hurrying back to the small, pale gray tom and picked him up, soothing him with a gentle lick to the forehead.
"We should head away from the Thunderpath," Graystripe meowed, "Towards the Twolegplace; we can find shelter there until we decide what to do next. We might even be able to hide there until Scourge settles down." He picked up Rainkit in his mouth, much to the tiny kit's displeasure, and flicked his tail, signaling for the cats to follow him. Willowpelt followed quickly after him, scooping up Sootkit in her jaws and bounding after him. Speckletail followed with Sorrelkit, and Sandstorm allowed One-Eye, Smallear, and Dappletail to go before her, taking up the rear.
The small band of ThunderClan warriors, three kits, four elders, and three warriors, rushed through their forest, on a well-worn trail that led straight to the Twolegplace. The forest that had been their home for countless seasons, which had seemed as familiar to them as their pelt color, now seemed darkened. Each shadow seemed to hide the claws of a BloodClan warrior, each bird call was a warning that they were coming.
"We're almost there," breathed Sandstorm, growing hopeful as the wooden fence of Twolegplace came into view. But her relief was spoiled when a dark shape hurled out of the shadows of one of the nearby ferns, tackling Speckletail and forcing her out of view with Sorrelkit still clamped firmly in her mouth. There was a squeal of a kit – Sorrelkit, and Graystripe whirled around, shocked look filling his eyes.
"BloodClan warriors," she whispered, "They've found us."
Panic quickly filled every cats mind, Sandstorm quickly waved her tail, motioning for them to move forward, but Willowpelt took a step to where her daughter and friend had vanished. A gentle nose nudged her shoulder.
"They would've wanted you to live," he hissed, "Go," Willowpelt hesitated and Graystripe raised his voice, "Go!" She turned, Sootkit wiggling in her grasp, and ran after the others. Graystripe set Rainkit down for a moment, re-adjusting his grip, when Sandstorm called out to him.
"Graystripe, they're coming!" she cried. Glancing behind himself for less than a heartbeat and seeing the dark figures between the ferns, Graystripe took off, narrowly avoiding the claws of the warrior who took Speckletail and Sorrelkit's life.
And suddenly the forest was foreign territory. Suddenly, the BloodClan warriors were the hunters, and they were the prey, and the only thing separating the hunters and the hunted was the desperation to keep alive. Ahead of him, he could make out Willowpelt scrambling over the fence, not too far ahead while Sandstorm helped Smallear and One-Eye.
Graystripe slid to a halt, dropping Rainkit promptly and giving Smallear a proper shove to clear the fence. Sandstorm gave One-Eye a shove as well, and then turned to where Graystripe had collapsed against the fence, his wounds re-opening. Behind them the shapes of BloodClan cats started appear through the bracken.
"Go!" hissed Sandstorm, and then she added, "I'll get Rainkit." Graystripe nodded, turning back to the fence and scrambling up the side, vanishing over the top. But instead of turning to pick up Rainkit, Sandstorm whirled around, her green eyes flaring. Rainkit mewled, pressing himself against the fence behind her, and Sandstorm bared her teeth, "This is for Firestar."
And she left to join her mate.
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On the opposite side of the fence, Graystripe trembled, every long fur on his body bristling, fear filled the eyes of every cat behind the fence, from the last remaining kit to the oldest elder. Willowpelts' eyes opened wide, dropping Sootkit between her paws; she let out a small cry as Sorrelkit and Rainkit vanished from her life. Graystripe growled, digging his claws into the grass of the garden and narrowing his eyes.
"We will survive," he hissed, eyes burning, "We will not die out like embers. We will rekindle our Clan, and, someday, blaze like the wildfire in the hearts of our leaders." He looked over, up to the top of the fence, "Do you hear me, Scourge? Do you hear me, BloodClan? We will never die!"
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"Brave words," growled Scourge, the sadistic grin still on his face, he turned from the Sandstorms' body, back towards Fourtrees when a pitiful mewl rose in the air. Scourge froze, and every cat along with him did as well. A single thought raced through every mind – was Scourge cold enough to kill even a helpless kit?
Slowly, very slowly, Scourge turned around, his ice-blue eyes fixed at a bundle of dark gray fur near Sandstorm. The kit was big – almost five moons old, with eyes dark blue and big paws. His ears flattened against his skull as Scourge neared him, and, even for his small size, the BloodClan leader towered over the kit. Scourge smirked, narrowing his cold eyes.
"You're a little coward, aren't you?" he meowed, and Rainkit fluffed up his fur in fear. Scourge could hear the little heart in his chest beating wildly, like the paws of a darting rabbit, hard against the springy turf of the moorlands. He narrowed his eyes, turning away from the kit, "Tell me, little one, are you strong?"
The kit froze, confused at the question he was being asked. Scourge turned around, ice blue eyes hypnotic, "I'll ask that again, little kit, are you strong? Are you the strongest in your… 'Clan'? Is there no one in the world who is stronger then you?"
"N…no…" whispered Rainkit, looking down at his paws, "Graystripe was stronger than me. And Sootkit and Bramblepaw an… and everyone…"
"Do you want to be strong?" whispered Scourge, "Do you want to be stronger than anyone? The strongest in any 'Clan'?"
"Yes," Rainkit looked up, his dark blue eyes suddenly alive and warm, "I want to be stronger than anything! I want to be stronger then foxes and badgers and dogs and the sun and the moon and the clouds and-"
"Then come with me," whispered Scourge, his blue eyes glittered sharply, almost unnaturally, "In my old home, far from the streets of the Twolegplace, there was a saying among my family. That those born with pelts as dark as night and eyes the color of water would be destined for great things. Do you, little kit, have a destiny? Or will you fade away to nothing but a shadow and a pile of ashes?"
"I want to have a destiny," Rainkit stood up defiantly and added, "Will you give me one? Will you give me power?"
"I'll give you all the power you want and more, little kit," Scourge cooed. Rainkit looked at his paws and then nodded.
"Alright then, I'll come with you." He took a step towards Scourge, and the black tom smirked again.
"Tell me, little kit, what is your name?"
"Rainkit."
"Rainkit? That doesn't seem to suit you."
"R-really?"
"Yes… I think you should have a better name."
"What name would that be?"
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Kudos to Ziro for editting my chapters. You rock.