Slightly darker than what I usually write, this is my take on what might have happened had Scourge won the the LionClan vs. BloodClan battle. It is an over-reused plotline, but I felt like writing it anyway. And please forgive the crappy title, nothing better came to mind.
Warriors belongs to the hunters.
"Scourge!" Firestar yowled. He bounded through the mass of fighting cats to where the small tom was locked in combat with Sandstorm.
Both cats looked up at the sound of the ThunderClan leader's voice.
"Firestar!" Sandstorm called, the relief obvious in her voice
Scourge narrowed his cold, blue eyes as he snarled, "You! I thought I killed you!"
The fiery tom came up to the black one. "You did, but I am a Clan leader with nine lives, given to me by StarClan!"
Firestar leapt at the BloodClan leader. Scourge's whiskers twitched, as if he found something funny.
Scourge leapt at Firestar and dug his reinforced claws into the leader's stomach.
"No matter how many lives you have," Scourge purred softly as he dragged his claws down Firestar's belly in midair, "There is always a way to kill."
Firestar dropped to the ground and convulsed once before lying still. It happened seven more times.
"F…Firestar…." Sandstorm mewed helplessly as she saw her mate's blood flow onto the already blood-soaked grass. She bounded over to him as her voice rose.
"FIRESTAR!" Her yowls filled the hollow, and made every cat stop fighting and look towards the base of the Great Rock, where Sandstorm, Scourge and Firestar's body now lay.
"Firestar! Firestar!" Sandstorm cried, licking his face. "Wake up, wake up!"
Amusement filled Scourge's eyes as he watched the young warrior attempt to wake her mate.
"I took all nine lives at once," purred Scourge.
Sandstorm turned on him, a fire hotter than the sun in her eyes.
"You…" she snarled. Then she attacked.
Scourge was not caught unawares, though. He fought back, and, with little struggle, got his paws onto her neck.
"Today," Scourge mewed, loud enough for everyone to hear, "The Clans die."
He bit down on her throat. Less than a heart beat latter, Sandstorm was dead.
Scourge drew himself up. His pink tongue washed around his lips, which where covered in blood.
He watched the now-silent cats (some awaiting orders, other shocked into mourning) and demanded, "Well, what are you waiting for?"
The BloodClan cats understood their leader's question and attacked as a call rang out through Fourtrees.
"Kill!"
That night, the moon glowed red with the blood of the Clan cats as their corpses littered the hollow.
Well? What did you think? I am anxious to hear your opinions on this story. Please review!