Mild Gore Warning: This first one is probably not going to be very friendly for younger audiences.
Fernkit stretched his short legs, and grinned at his sister, who was sleeping in a furry heap. He couldn't fall asleep, because there was something that he really wanted to do tonight. Putting his small paws over Heatherkit's back, he hissed, "Wake up! Wake up, Heatherkit!"
Heatherkit, of course, groaned and yawned. "What is it? It's the middle of the night, right?" she complained, looking around to make sure it was. Typical Heatherkit, thought Fernkit. She was a sleepyhead, not to mention a goody-goody. He always had to sneak out of the camp by himself, just because she wouldn't come with him.
"Come on! Let's go outside of the camp and see the misty waterfall!" he urged, clouting his sister over the ear to wake her up. She let out a squeak, but thankfully no one in the shadowy, damp nursery heard it, and everyone but the two kits stayed asleep.
"But—" Heatherkit began, but Fernkit cut her off promptly.
"No one will see us. Besides, I want to be free of the milk-scent in here for a bit!" he mewed enticingly, and added in a singsong voice, "Besides, it will be beautiful to see!"
Heatherkit had no choice but to comply as Fernkit dragged her out of the camp by the scruff, his head high. She had to come with him tonight, because she owed him a chance to sneak away for stopping him all those previous times. He marched through the bramble entrance, ignoring Heatherkit's sharp squeals as branches poked her ears and got stuck in her fur.
He knew his parents had told him not to go there, but that made the waterfall even more enticing.
Heatherkit bitterly stomped after her brother into the forest. Her long, lilac pelt was still matted with sticks and thorns. She would make him clean it all off—once they got back to the camp. For now, she would just have to wait.
As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was actually pretty excited about the waterfall. She wondered if it was beautiful and clear, with a sparkling pond underneath that had gold fish flitting in its shallows.
In fact, anything beautiful made her interested. Fernkit had definitely tricked her to his benefit, now that she thought of it. She glanced back, but there was no sign of the camp, and she was definitely not trekking back there alone. She'd just have to follow him.
She flinched as she stepped on a leaf, hoping that no one heard the sharp crack that echoed through the empty forest. But no other sounds came.
The claw-moon tonight was only starting to rise, leaving them in mostly darkness, so they had plenty of time to find their way to the waterfall. Hopefully they didn't waste it all looking for it. It was still damp in places from the day's drizzle of rain.
The kits padded unsurely through the silhouettes of trees and mazes of bushes and brambles. The sharp scent of herbs came once or twice to Heatherkit, and she wrinkled her nose at the pungency of the small plants. A smattering of stars had appeared in the ink-black sky. It seemed that the night sky was beautiful just for her.
Next to her, Fernkit pricked his ears. Heatherkit did the same, and she heard the steady, crashing rhythm of rushing water. The waterfall was near! The two started racing through the forest in the direction of the sound, being careful not to step on dry leaves, or trip in rabbit-holes.
A minute of excited running later, she stared in awe at the glistening waterfall, in all of its majesty.
Fernkit stared at the ever-flowing waterfall, which was situated on a cliff leading higher than they could ever climb. The cliff was probably at the edge of the territory, because Fernkit didn't recognize anything around here. It was all unfamiliar forest. A pond was beneath it, the biggest expanse of water he had ever seen.
A narrow path of stepping-stones was in the shadows, just barely in his sight. They looked slippery, probably from the great cloud of mist that surrounded the waterfall. He waved his tail towards the path, and then, when Heatherkit nodded in understanding, he started to jump onto the first stepping stone.
He teetered, and almost slipped, and he frantically dug his small claws into the rock as far as he could. Heatherkit tried to get on the same stone, making him fall into the cold water neck-deep with an indignant mewl.
Now, soaking wet from the water in the shallow pool beneath him, Fernkit trudged through the mist, and heaved up the second stepping-stone. He glared at Heatherkit, who was harder to see because the second stone had an even thicker shroud of mist. Narrowing his eyes, and trying to look like a warrior, he crouched awkwardly and tried to jump onto the third stone, landing him in the water again.
Angrily, he plodded through the shallows of the pond, not even looking at the other stones. He was shivering now, and his pelt was heavy and wet and unpleasant. He passed four, five, six, seven stepping stones, marching angrily through the mist that made him even colder. A shiver ran through him, and he quickened his pace, trying his best to slog through the water. The water was getting deeper.
Finally, finally, he reached the end of the water, and his nose was barely above the surface as he kicked and struggled to keep himself up.
The waterfall was crashing behind him, and the shallow water lapped onto stone. Wait, stone? Had he reached a stone-den? He scrambled onto the dry rock, eagerly hoping for warmth. He looked behind him, fatigue filling him, waiting for his sister to catch up.
Heatherkit bounded from stone to stone, trying to get to wherever Fernkit had gone. She wondered excitedly what was at the end of this rocky path, but her happiness deflated when she remembered that they were not supposed to go out here. She jumped to the next stone, her claws nimbly unsheathed.
Finally, she scrambled to the last rock. She nearly fell forward, but luckily her pelt remained dry as she plunged her claws down and lurched to a halt. She stared at the empty expanse she had reached.
It's a... a stone-den?
At least, she thought it was, because it had a roof and a floor, all made out of dark gray stone.
Fernkit was shivering in the middle of the entrance, and Heatherkit stepped onto the hard surface, trying to avoid the lapping water, and trotted over to her littermate. She started licking his fur the wrong way, just like she saw the medicine cat doing once. His fur did not comply, and stayed heavy and wet.
"You're acting like Mother!" Fernkit whined, and batted Heatherkit away. She clouted his ears hard in return. Her eyes wandered around the stone-den. All that she could see was a vast expanse of darkness and shadow. Heatherkit began to feel uneasy, and stared down the long passage. What would they find there?
Fernkit scurried down the stone-den, staring through the shadowy path down the cave. It was becoming darker and darker, and Heatherkit was straggling behind him. His still-damp pelt was making him cold, and he tried to fluff up his pelt to stay warm, then continued down the stone-den.
He heard pawsteps, and turned with a startled look to find Heatherkit running towards him, panting and mewling. The sounds of sticks and thorns falling out of her pelt echoed through the cave. "Mousebrain! You scared me," he muttered, with a glare at his sister. As they walked, the stone-den seemed to have light in it.
The sound of claws scraping echoed on the rock walls, and the two jumped, turning back around. Trembling, Fernkit took a step further, and then another. He saw a shape coming towards him. He cowered, pressing close to Heatherkit, who was shaking like a leaf.
He saw the faint outline of a silver she-cat, stepping slowly towards them. A sweet smile was on her face. He relaxed his position, only hoping that this cat was in another Clan and not there to get them in trouble. The cat padded closer. He could see that her paws were white. And there was something floating around her... Mist?
"Hello," the she-cat said, dipping her head in greeting. She then turned around, and Fernkit could only assume that they should follow. He started after, and Heatherkit followed, her feet pattering across the floor of the dark stone-den. The she cat was smiling still, but there was something about it that made Fernkit feel odd...
Her mysterious smile hovered on her face as she went deeper and deeper into the increasingly dark stone-den. Her fluffy tail swished as if making a signal, and light blew into the stone-den, wavering across the walls, casting shadows of the jagged rock. In front of them was a red, dark, dark red river.
He froze, staring at the blood, the dry, dark crimson blood, the cats laying limp, their mouths frozen in eternal terror. Cats that were never saved from it.
When he looked behind him at the silver she-cat, her previously innocent face was contorted into a scary, psychotic smile. Her previously white paws were stained red with blood, and her previously bright blue eyes were sunken and dark, void-like black.
"No one will hear you, so feel free to scream," she hissed, and burst into the most insane, hoarse, dead laughter the kits had ever heard. Heatherkit let out a whimper that turned into a wail, and screamed that she wanted to go home.
Fernkit felt a sharp pain, a sickening noise in the back of his head. He heard his own screams, mixed with the piercing and petrified wails of Heatherkit. He felt his warm blood pouring out of him, sickeningly pooling on the floor of the stone-den and splattering on the walls.
Dark, spreading bulbs filled the corners of his vision, until everything was gone. He thought he saw a red shadow with empty black eyes flitting across his vision.
New blood spattered the walls of the Misty Waterfall once more.