Heavy rain poured in through the camp walls, washing away the scarlet pools staining the clearing. Loud cracks of thunder split through the air as if the clearing inhabitants were truly yowling their fury to the stars. The gathered felines hunched in a small semi-circle, pelts bristling with fear and pure rage. A snarling blur of black and white fur was thrown into the center, her pelt hardly recognizable due to the blood stains.
The she-cat glared up at the one who threw her forward, her dark amber eyes slitted and teeth bared as she hissed loud enough to challenge the other caterwauling cats. Despite the heavy crimson spatter, her face was almost untouched, revealing a hideous split-face. One side was black- the other side white.
"From the day you were born I knew you'd be nothing but trouble," hissed a slate stone colored tom, looming closer with each step. "And now, you've taken the ultimate price; you've killed Lightstar." At his tail flick, two warriors brought forth the bloody body of their deceased leader. Her golden pelt matted with blood and a long slit along her throat. Her blue orbs now dull and lifeless.
"And what are you going to do about it?" sneered the color split she-cat, lips curled back in a snarl. "Banish me?"
"Banishment is too good for you, Splitface," the stone furred tom growled, using her name that truly fit her looks. The other surrounding felines snarled and hissed their agreement. "I Stonesoul, deputy of ThunderClan, look down on this warrior- no, this fox-heart- and hereby pass her sentence: execution."
Without hesitation or warning, the deputy shot forward with a single swift motion. His claws held her by the shoulders, pinning her against the muddy earth.
"You fool!" Splitface roared in fury, thrashing wildly. "I could've made ThunderClan great! The most powerful Clan in the forest! A Clan to challenge the ranks of StarClan themselves! Lightstar was too blind to see the future! I will still rise ThunderClan to the top! No one can stop me!" The mad she-cat broke out in cackles, throwing a hacking fit until Stonesoul's claws met her throat. Blood sprayed everywhere, Splitface jerking into silence. With the remaining breath of life she managed to hiss;
"You fox-hearts. You'll all die. Starting with Stonesoul." Her pained amber gaze floated to the large gray tom. "First your mate will fall. Then your kits. Then once everyone you love and care about is dead, you shall follow them to the afterlife. Death is but a door. Make no mistake, I will be back."
"You're an insane she-cat who spouts nonsense. You will die a traitor to your Clan," Stonesoul snarled, burying his sharp ivory teeth into her already bloody throat. A strangled yowl escaped the black and white she-cat's parted jaw. Within moments her body stopped convulsing and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Stonesoul stepped back, grooming his mud and blood caked pelt. "Get her out of here," he demanded, ordering a set of warriors to take her out of camp. "Dump her in the river for all I care; I never want to see her ugly muzzle again."
The warriors complied, picking up the mangled body of their former clanmate and hauled her bloody corpse out of camp.
"So you better behave yourselves or else Splitface will come and get you." The forced spooky voice echoed through the nursery walls wherein sat two eager kits.
"Rainwing, is that story true?" squeaked a pale yellow tabby she-cat, stepping forward to question the blue furred queen.
"Of course it's not true!" spat her littermate- a gray tabby. "Who ever heard of a cat coming back to life? It's not possible!"
"Oh, Pebblekit. Always the skeptic," sighed the blue-gray queen. "You can decide whether or not you think the story is true. Now go run along and play with Duskpaw. I'm sure he'd be willing to show you the hunter's crouch."
"Hear that Yarrowkit?" squealed Pebblekit, already charging for the entrance as fast her little gray paws would take her. "Duskpaw'll teach us the hunting crouch!"
"I heard, I heard!" mewed the pale yellow kit, racing after her sibling with equal if not more speed. Back in the nursery walls, Rainwing sighed and slumped into her nest. Moments later, a light yellow tabby waltzed in.
"You've been telling them stories again, haven't you?" she began impatiently. "I've told you once and a thousand times- Yarrowkit and Pebblekit need no knowledge of that bloodthirsty flea-pelt. She was power hungry and driven by that hunger. She's dead and won't come back, you hear? Great StarClan! How many of my kits are you going to poison with lies? That mange pelt is dead and that's all that matters. Drop it, Rainwing."
"You are all skeptics," Rainwing meowed evenly, blue gaze cast downwards. "Truth were in her words. I can feel it. 'Death is but a door.' She will return. Whether you like it or not."
