Wrote this a few months ago, just toying with the idea of Hollyleaf lost in the tunnels and meeting up with another lonely soul down there. Written in first person-present tense. Enjoy.
Step and step again.
You run like your paws are on fire.
It's been a while since you've seen the sunlight. The last time you saw sunlight was that day when you told all four clans that you weren't the daughter of Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw, Lionblaze wasn't of pure ThunderClan, Jayfeather had dirty blood. All the same thing.
The sunlight inside had faded long before that, though. You padded into the cloud shadows when Ashfur told you a secret. The storm gathered as you gazed as your black paws, slick with his blood. Thunder rolled when you learned of your twisted roots and decided to let every cat in the forest know of it as well.
When you tried to kill your mother, you pitched forwards into the blackest of moonless nights.
Your memory has faded a bit, only retaining the most important things: Moments of happiness. Little moments of light in the blackness of the underground.
You have almost forgotten Lionblaze's golden pelt, Jayfeather's blue eyes, Squirrelflight's bushy tail… No, Squirrelflight didn't give you a warm feeling, any happiness.
It's been a while since you've seen sunlight. Too long. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and you flit like a black spirit through the dark tunnels. Your paws make no sound as you pad quickly, almost gliding, from hollow to hollow.
You sniff the musty air. There is no life down here. You hardly hunt; when you do hunt you forget what you just ate, like waking up from a dream and it being all a blur.
You can't count the days because there is no light. You can do nothing but exercise your legs running down the tunnels, search for an exit, and daydream.
Sometimes your daydreams are about finding a way out of the tunnels and getting back to your Clan, telling your mother and Squirrelflight that you forgive them. You daydream that you are back in the apprentice den with your brothers and Cinderheart, when everything was so simple. You sometimes even have little daydreams about Mousewhisker, who, in your opinion, was one pretty cute tom.
You try to guess who has fallen in love with whom. You try to guess who has died.
In the times when your mind can't take any more of the blissfully naïve and light-hearted thoughts in such a dark place, it drives you down into reality. You are sitting in a cave under the ground. You will die here. Your family hates you. You are a murderer. You are half-blood.
Reality comes to you in the form of darker daydreams.
You see yourself stalk into camp, big as a badger and eyes aglow. You growl, and your family members scatter in fear. Don't hurt us! they scream. But you ignore their pleas, because you can't spare them when they never spared you. You can't let them live when they wounded you so much.
Sometimes you hurt the ones you hate; Leafpool and Squirrelflight. Sometimes, when your eyes can only see the black wall of the cave and you feel lower than the bottom of the lake, you hurt the ones you love; Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Cinderheart.
Those dreams reek of blood, and you have to press your paws across your muzzle and eyes until you see flashes of light to make them stop.
A shadow, not your own shadow because there is no light to cast one, but a shadow that seems to glow, follows you.
You run though the tunnels on the darkest of nights, when the rain starts and drips down into your fur. Water pools up and rushes against your legs. But your paws are familiar with these tunnels even when your mind clouds and fails on you. You can outrace the floodwater to the highest points of the tunnels.
If only you could find a way out, but every exit seems to be hidden, not behind a wall or a fallen tree, but just from your mind.
On those darkest of nights, your fur dripping with cold water and your body shivering violently on your thin body, your mind turns to daydreams that dwell on the murkiest of longings. To throw your body into the floodwater would be an easy feat, and it would be over quickly.
To just scratch the sides of the tunnels until the dirt collapses on your pelt and you find yourself crushed under rock, breathing not air but dust, paws still and bones broken, that also seems almost a normal way to die. In fact, you can almost remember a past life when that happened, but everything is so faint now…
When your pelt is so soaked it seems that the water drips right through your pelt, and you run in a daze where you can't see the tunnel floor ahead, just a dark fog, the water retreats. It swirls away and bring the daydreams with it.
You want to tell stories, hear your own voice, but who do you talk to when there is no other life? Your food? Your feet?
So, instead, you tell them to the tunnels. Your voice sounds grand in the vast emptiness, echoing on.
"There was a pretty cat who had everything: A best friend to tell secrets to, a mate who loved her more than his life, four cute little kits, siblings who understood her, and caring parents."
It will be a good story with a good start like this.
"The cat was hunting and she ran through the forest after a squirrel, a big red bushy one, until she fell into a hole. It was deep and dark and she couldn't get out."
You hear a noise near you, but you shake your head and continue. You try not to think of the shadow that creeps at the edges of your vision, the shadow that has been stalking you in reality and in your dreams for days. Or perhaps weeks. You tell your story.
"She lay there and saw her mate, her kits, her brothers, her sisters, and her parents look down at her from the top of the hole. She looked up in the sky and saw darkness."
Here comes the climax!
"She saw darkness and realized she was seeing darkness because she was dead."
A voice rumbles from the other end of the tunnel and a black shape slides forwards. "That's not a very happy story."
It's a living cat! You want to laugh and shriek at the same time, but you bite your tongue and reply, "I'm not a very happy creature."
"I can tell," he says calmly, and you examine him closer. His pelt is a little faded, like slept-on moss, and is white and ginger-spotted. His eyes glitter green in the darkness, like your own.
"Why are you down here?" you ask sharply, letting your bottled-up shock leak a bit.
He answers your question with the same question, and you begin to wonder if he is just another daydream.
"Why are you down here?"
"I-I guess I got lost."
"You guess?"
"I don't know," you meow, utterly confused at meeting this mysterious cat down in the tunnels after… how long? How long in these tunnels?
He purrs slowly, but not in a happy way.
He is young, you can tell, younger than you, about the age of a newly-made warrior. But his eyes show wisdom far beyond his years. He doesn't smell of any of the Clans, but if you can just have him lead you out…
Or maybe he is just as lost as you are.
"Who are you?" you ask.
"I'm Fallen Leaves," he answers, as if it should have been obvious, as if you had just asked him if he were a cat, a tree, or a lump of dung.
"I'm Hollyleaf."
He nods like he didn't hear me, or as if he already knew that.
"So… Can you show me the way out?"
"I have no more power than you do in escaping this hellhole."
Foxdung.
"I can 'guide you towards the light'," he continues, "If you wish."
"I would like that," you meow.
"Follow me." He takes off, a white faded blur, and your mind spins, trying to take in this thunderstorm of an event, the rest of your time down in the tunnels being a cold gray fog.
You race after him, padding down worn dirt paths and cold rocky gaps. He looks back often; to make sure you are still following. His eyes sparkle with warmth, and you are glad to have found another cat; obviously he is feeling the same way.
You wonder if he knows you killed a cat and destroyed your own clan. You wonder if he knows your mind is an ocean of fog that turns red with the violent daydreams. You pray to StarClan for him not to know anything about you.
Maybe you'll be able to run out of the tunnels, finally. You don't know where you will go; back to ThunderClan? You want to see Cinderheart, but meeting your mother and her sister will likely drive you over the edge again.
And running away wouldn't solve any problems either. That, you can blurrily remember, was what you had planned to do before you had gotten trapped in the tunnels.
He runs, you run, and all you can hear is rain starting to fall on the grass above, so close, but yet a lifetime away.
When you both slow you are in a section of the tunnels you don't recognize at first, but then see it is a river running through a dripping cave. Sudden flashbacks of you Jayfeather, and Lionblaze saving three WindClan kits run through your mind. You can recall flying down the river, breathing in water like air, thrashing and finally pulling yourself up onto the bank.
"Here we are," Fallen Leaves says.
"Where is this?"
"The center of the network. Almost every tunnel ends up or starts here, depending on how you see it."
"Or depending on which end of the tunnel you're wishing to be on," you reason. His whiskers twitch.
"Sometimes Rock is here," he then whispers.
"Rock?"
"He's old, and bald, and he's as blind as your brother is."
"How do you know my brother is blind?" you snarl, shivers crawling through my fur like spiders.
"We've met before," he says calmly. You look close at him; then touch your nose to his white and ginger pelt. He pulls away, but not before you feel a thrill of shock and horror as your muzzle passes through his shoulder like mist.
You gasp. "You're from StarClan!"
He snickers. "Do you see any stars in my fur, Hollyleaf?"
"No."
"I'm from a different time," he meows. "Before StarClan even existed."
Water drips onto your nose as the rain above intensifies, and chills run down your spine. "How long have you been down here?"
He avoids your gaze. "A while. I'm not sure. I haven't seen sunlight in… In a long time."
"How long?"
"It's all a blur when you're down here, dead. Time is meaningless, eating away at everyone's life but your own."
You shake your head, scared, and walk away, down the river, which is starting to run faster and darker.
"Where's the exit?"
"What do you mean?"
"I want to go before the river gets too high that the tunnels are cut off."
He gazes at you with sadness playing across his face, and points is tail at one of the tunnels across the now-raging river. "There's the way to your old clan, but-"
You ignore the spirit cat and race towards the river, bounding over it in a soaring leap you weren't even aware you could manage.
How long have I been in these tunnels?
Fallen Leaves is chasing you.
Time is meaningless.
Cold water runs through your fur, splashes at your paws, but you keep running. You can hear Fallen Leaves calling for you, his cries echoing and full of sadness.
He just wants you to stay with him. He's so lonely, the spirit. But you are going to see the sun again. You won't be doomed like he is.
You run faster and faster, your paws have turned into birds and are lifting you, faster and faster and faster…
You turn the corner of a tunnel and find yourself in a small cave. There is a gap on the other side of the cave, leading out to the real world. You can see the sky!
It is cold and gray and raining, unforgiving.
There are trees whistling to you outside! Most are rich green (a few turning fall colors) and their leaves dance about in the storm. The colors of the trees seem the same as when you dashed into the tunnels, but you can't remember exactly. You've probably been inside for a half-moon.
The wind blows! You haven't felt the wind in so long. You open your mouth and taste it like you are biting into juicy prey, drink it in, drinking from the clearest spring.
You can hear Fallen Leaves's yowl echoing up the tunnel. You aren't about to stay with him!
You race towards the exit, just to be caught by the tail by teeth.
"Let me go, you ugly piece of foxdung!" you roar at the white and ginger tom.
"Don't you know?" he growls steadily through a clamped jaw. "You can't leave."
You struggle to free your tail and swipe at him, and this time your paw connects, unlike before when he was mist. This realization keeps you in place even when he winces and drops your black tail. How can you hit him if he's a ghost? How can he bite your tail?
"How can I touch you?"
He shakes his head sadly, his eyes shining with something of pity. "It's all in your head, Hollyleaf. If you want to pass through something you can; if you want to be able to touch, you become solid."
"You mean, you can. You're the dead one, the ghost." You say this firmly, and the next sentence as well. "I'm not dead."
He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "What happened at the end of your story?"
"What story?"
"The one I heard, with the pretty cat in the hole."
"She died…" you meow slowly. You understand what he is trying to tell you but don't believe. It just can't be.
Then you are distracted. There is a noise at the front of the cave, at the entrance.
Four cats, roaring with laughter and shaking off water, come into the cave. They don't notice you or Fallen Leaves.
"Oh, it's nice and dry!" the little gray one meows. "I told you there was a cave here!"
There are two larger ones and two smaller ones. You recognize the two older ones.
"Lionblaze?" you gasp. "Cinderheart?"
They don't look at you. They continue chatting and laughing, along with the two smaller ones, apprentice-sized. "Cinderheart!" You meow loudly, so that she can hear you over the insistent sound of rain. "Cinderheart!"
Fallen Leaves places his tail gently over your shoulder. You snarl and shake it off, and pad up and look your brother and best friend in the eyes. Cinderheart doesn't notice you are standing before her and continues to tell her story.
"-and then Graystripe said, 'Well, if you catch me that mouse over there I'll gladly eat it for you!' And can you guess what Bumblestripe did?"
Cinderheart's words fade as your mind starts to sink into the fog again. She can't see you. Your lungs stop working, you stop breathing. But, even worse, you don't feel any need to take in air.
Something else hits you. Bumblestripe. When you entered the tunnels Graystripe's son had been a kit.
He had been a kit.
Now he is a warrior.
Somewhere in the tunnels you have lost at least a year of your life. A recycling of the seasons – twelve whole moons passed without you – countless hunting patrols, countless nights in the warriors den. That's why the leaves of the trees are the same; it is again the passing from Greenleaf to Leaf-fall.
How many cats have forgotten you?
It looks like Cinderheart and Lionblaze have. You stare at Lionblaze hard, get right in front of him, but he looks through you as he gazes warmly at Cinderheart, who is chatting happily and not noticing the glazed amber eyes of the golden tom. So for how long has my brother been padding after my best friend?
The two cats laugh. "-and then she told the snob off in front of the whole den!"
"Really?" Lionblaze purrs. "I can imagine Mousefur would flip out at him for that."
Cinderheart's laugh softens. "She's been so fragile since Longtail died."
Your green eyes widen. "Longtail's dead?" you ask. They ignore you, and panic rises like bile in your throat. "Can you hear me?"
"Oh," Lionblaze continues without falter, "but she's still tough enough to take on Berrynose."
The name Berrynose makes both apprentices stop their play-fighting for a brief moment, so you guess he is their father. But since Honeyfern died, who could be…?
The smaller tabby cat, the extremely good fighter, has a little clever light in her eyes that reminds you of Poppyfrost.
So much has changed.
"Lionblaze!" you cry. "Look at me!"
"Hey, look!" He stares right through you. "The rain is stopping!"
The two apprentices race towards the exit, now dripping in the sunlight. Your brother and best friend get up as well and pad away from you. As Cinderheart gets up she brushes you and shivers like she's cold, gray against black. You don't feel her fur against yours, just the dull throb of anguish. You are not solid, not a real cat, not something they can see.
You stand alone, mind swimming with pain.
They have changed. They have forgotten you.
You race after them, aware of Fallen Leaves' sympathetic gaze on your back. You don't want his sympathy; you want to go home!
As you get closer to the sunlight and the calling trees, the harder it gets to race after the cats you love. Something drags you back – but it's not Fallen Leaves' teeth. It feels like you are running against a driving storm, the rain dragging you back. You move slower and slower, even when you strain as hard as you can to move.
The sunlight has yet to reach your scraggly black fur, but you're sure that when it does your pelt will shine like a raven's feathered wing.
"They're leaving!" You screech, stuck at the entrance, only a pawstep away from the light.
"They can't hear you, Hollyleaf," Fallen Leaves meows sadly.
The four cats shake off their wet pelts in the warm sun; you're in shadow still. The grass, you can tell, is covered in dew and the dew probably tastes sweet like honey. The birds are probably singing their songs, but you can't hear them.
"Come back!" You wail. "Lionblaze! Cinderheart!" You can hear Fallen Leaves padding towards you. "CINDERHEART!"
The fluffy gray apprentice turns back towards the opening of the tunnel where you and Fallen Leaves stand. "Did you hear something?" she asks your brother quietly, who must be her mentor.
"Lionblaze," you yowl desperately, voice so full of anguish you have no idea how they can't hear it. "Please!"
He swivels an ear, as do Cinderheart and her tabby apprentice.
"It's just the wind in the tunnels," Lionblaze meows.
Then they pad into the undergrowth. One by one they are gone. The last to whisk away is Cinderheart, who give as quick look back at your tunnel, eyes flickering briefly with a lonely sadness. Your little river of hope rises and almost floods, but then her gray pelt is gone in the green bushes.
The river of hope dries up and cold mist drapes back over you. You lie forgotten and ignored at the entrance, and whisper, "Wait for me, Cinderheart."
The fog in your mind takes over again, this time even worse than down in the tunnels. You clutch the final image of your best friend looking back at you.
Fallen Leaves' rough meow falls onto your ears. "I'm so sorry, Hollyleaf."
He puts his tail gently across your black shoulders, which are trembling.
"Let's go back down," he meows quietly after a while. You let him lead you, numbly trailing, back into the darkness.
"It's not so bad, after a while," he meows, but the words bounce off the wall of fog that swirls around your mind. "I'm sorry that came as such a shock."
It gets darker and darker, until you can't remember what the sunlight even looked like. All you know is that you have to hold on to that last picture of Cinderheart's pelt leaving you.
It's all you have left, except for the spirit tom beside you, supporting you. The fog snatches at Cinderheart's gray fur as you pad in a nightmare-daze alongside Fallen Leaves. Hold on.
The darkness presses on you like a thousand cold dead things, smothering you. Fallen Leaves is speaking again but the words don't reach you.
"…But now I have you to keep me company, if that makes anything better. Rock is such an old fogey, kinda makes me nervous. I've been alone for so long…"
"I'm glad my death makes you happy," you say slowly, just barely understanding his words. He still doesn't know what atrocities you committed while you were living.
Maybe it's a good thing your spirit is trapped in the tunnels; otherwise you would have ended up in the Place of No Stars.
Hold on to me, whispers Cinderheart, the last remaining image you have. Hold on.
"Would you like to hear a story?" you hear your own voice asking Fallen Leaves, then going on without his answer. "There once was a little blackbird. She lived in a colony of other birds like her, and she loved them all very much. There was a little gray sparrow, a golden finch… But then one day she found out that her mother and father weren't blackbirds, but a… big crow. And a brown sparrow."
Fallen Leaves nods, a bit confused, but content with the story otherwise. Your voice echoes in the black tunnels.
"This was a sin in this colony, and the little blackbird couldn't stand it. One other bird learned of her mixed blood, a puffy gray warbler. She couldn't let him live with this knowledge, so she did something in a fit of rage that would be looked down upon. She killed him."
Fallen Leaves' eyes widen in the darkness. "A little blackbird?"
"Yes," you snarl quietly. "And then a fog overtook her mind. All she wanted was to make things better. She wanted to punish her sparrow mother for her lies. She sang to the whole forest her story, but it just made things worse."
Your voice drops and cracks.
"They all turned on her, so she tried to kill another ca- bird, and then she's so upset that she runs into a hole and kills herself."
Fallen Leaves stops walking and stares at you. "But why would a bird run into a tunnel? Why not fly?"
"A broken wing?" you suggest.
"Is this story true?"
You ignore him. Let the tom figure out on his own. Maybe then he won't be so eager to be in your company and you can walk in death alone like you deserve.
You can hear his mind grinding in effort. Half of you hopes that he won't understand, so that the two of you can talk in the darkness forever, instead of directing your stories at a tunnel wall. The other half commands you to give him the truth, the whole thing, and wants him to stay with you only when he knows what a monster you are.
You keep walking, not knowing whether he'll stay or go.
The blackness sweeps over everything. Hold on to me! Cinderheart yowls, but now she is fading as well. Darkness is taking everything but the tingling in your paws, your paws to walk with. You are drowning in your death.
You hear a low gasp from the spirit tom behind you, but you keep padding onward. Fallen Leaves finally joins you, but his eyes are cold and wary, unforgiving.
It doesn't matter what he thinks of you, he could see you as a murderer, but nothing matters anymore. Just keep walking forever.
Step and step again.
