A/N: This is a rewrite of this one-shot. Hopefully, it is written much better than the previous. A test of my skills from then to now. Enjoy!
Blood poured from wounds on his body. One could barely tell where red blood started, and gray and black fur ended. He was a mess. Broken. He had done his best to protect her. But they had been too much. But no one believed him! Everyone thought he had killed her. He narrowed his eyes and flattened his ears to his skull. The Clan stood around him, waiting for their leader's judgement. Why was no one listening?
His leader sat on a boulder, haughty and arrogant. The tom glared at him. "You killed her, Volestep," he growled darkly. The leader's amber eyes narrowed into slits as he continued, "you killed Gingerwing."
"No!" Volestep cried out, frustration evident in his tone, "no! I didn't! I tried to save her!" He snarled desperately, "I tried to save her, Smokestar!" His wounds were proof of his innocence! Why weren't they seeing that? "Smokestar, please—" Smokestar suddenly erupted with fury and jumped off the boulder, shoving his face into Volestep's.
"Save her?" Smokestar snarled. Volestep didn't recoil but held his ground. He could feel the accusations from his Clanmates and knew exactly where this was going. "SAVE her?!" Smokestar spat and started to pace a circle around him, "your scent is all over her pelt. Your fur is in her claws." Smokestar accused. Volestep drew his shoulders back to defend himself one more time.
"She was attacked by a band of rogues! – I was doing the noble thing! I tried to save her! She was my Clan-mate!" He defended, desperation seeping into his voice. He knew what Smokestar's next action was. "I tried to save her!" He pleaded. He turned his blue gaze to his Clanmates but not one would look at him. Not a single cat.
"No, do not even try to plead innocence. You killed her, Volestep, and the proof is everywhere," Smokestar shook his head. The gray tom turned away, his eyes landing on the ginger she-cat lying in front of the medicine den. "I, Smokestar, banish—"
Desperation turned fury and Volestep took a furious step forward. "If you're going to banish me, do so to my face!" He snarled, his lip curled back. The tension skyrocketed in the Clan and Volestep saw Smokestar's shoulders tense. The leader turned, amber eyes ablaze with fury.
"I, Smokestar, leader of JaggedClan, banish you, Volestep, from ever setting foot in this camp again. You are charged with the murder of Gingerwing," he snarled, standing nose to nose with him. "If I ever see your pathetic excuse for a pelt again, I'll personally kill you myself." Volestop stepped forward, invading the tom's space. He wanted to make sure that Smokestar heard him and that he would never forget this moment.
"You'll regret this, Smokestar. You'll regret never believing me. I will always be in the shadows. I will snatch every single one of your Clanmates until you're the last one left. Every corner you turn, every shadow you see, you'll wonder if I am in there and you'll remember this fateful day. And that day, Smokestar," his voice dropped to a murmur so only he could hear him, "that day will be the day you die." As fear settled in his eyes, Volestep turned and stalked out of camp, leaving a cloud of fear to settle on the camp.
Moons later
Applepaw padded long the well-trodden hunting path through the arctic forest that she called home. In her jaws, she carried several mice and a single bird. The ginger apprentice had been tasked with finding as much prey as she could in as little time as possible. The kills had to be as clean and as precise as possible or her mentor wouldn't count it to her assessment. She had made every kill perfectly and knew she was going to pass with flying colors.
Ever since her last gathering, her mentor had pressed her harder and harder. The rogue group on their border had been becoming bolder and her mentor wanted her to be ready in case the group attacked as a whole. Her mentor said she would probably be a warrior the day after next. She smiled in victory and then she noticed that the forest around her had fallen silent. She paused momentarily to glance around. She tried to listen for anything to tell her she hadn't gone deaf.
If her nose hadn't been overloaded with prey, she would've scented an old, yet familiar scent of a tom in the area. Soon, the sounds returned and the birds chirped happily as if nothing was wrong.
She hoped it was just her mentor. She knew that the rogue group had gotten bolder and started attacking lone cats near the border, but she had been nowhere near there. She started to pad along again. Every now and again, she felt like someone was watching her and she started to pick up the pace. She was almost to camp.
Suddenly the forest fell silent and this time, Applepaw dropped the prey at her paws and spun around, claws unsheathed. Something wasn't right. Her eyes scanned the forest, from tree top to tree root. The bushes to her left rustled and she dove out of the way as a large gray shape leaped at her.
A screech of panic tore through her throat and she spun on her paws and sprinted over the path. Some other cat would be on it and would help her. They had to. She could outrun him until then. She had to. She didn't have a choice. She had to live. Her paw caught on something, a root probably, and she tumbled. She had to get up. She had to— a paw pressed against her neck and she froze. Claws pricked against her skin.
"Pathetic she-cat," the tom panted. She couldn't move to see him, but he smelled faintly of her home Clan. Was this… was this the tom that got banished when she was a kit? "Haven't you ever heard not to wander off by yourself?" He moved back so he could roll her on her back so he could look her in the eye. Scars marred his muzzle and shoulders. His eyes were a shocking ice blue. She struggled against him, her claws digging into his shoulders. He didn't seem the least bit fazed. He watched her silently.
"It's a shame," he commented quietly, "you are quite pretty. Smokestar does choose pretty cats for his mates." Applepaw froze. This tom knew her father. She struggled in earnest. "But now you have to die, he has to learn a lesson."
"You're a monster!" She managed to spit. The tom let out a cold laugh.
"Oh yes, child, but only because your father was foolish." With those words, he let out a snarl and sank his teeth straight into her neck. She choked, struggling underneath him, but he held firm until he felt her take her last breath and fell limp. He drew back, blood dripping from his jaws.
Volestep stared down at the she-cat indifferently. She was the first. But she would not be the last. He gathered up her prey and then disappeared into the forest as quickly as he had come.
Smokestar and his patrol padded back down the main path in silence. They had had a minor scuffle with the rogue group on the border, but no cat had been too seriously injured. It was the first attack this moon. The sharp scent of blood pierced the nose of the warriors. No… he started to sprint and the group followed him. A shape formed on the path. He let out a cry of anguish. It was his only remaining kit, Applepaw. Blood poured from the wound at her neck. Her eyes stared up at him, lifeless. He collapsed in front of his daughter.
Gingerwing, Blossomgaze, Graypaw and now Applepaw… Volestep was taking his family from him one cat at a time. Just like he promised.
Soon after, cats who went out alone started to go missing. All that was left of them was a pool of blood and a trail leading into the forest and the faint scent of rogue in the air. But each time, it was the same scent. Cats started to fear going into the dark. No cat was allowed to leave without a partner, but even then, they disappeared together. A terrified yowl would be heard, but before a group of cats could come to the rescue, it would be too late.
Smokestar started to become paranoid. He had nightmares and cats became weary of him. He flinched at every shadow and rarely left his den. He snapped at every cat. Eventually, the Clan left him to move to a safer area. Smokestar did not follow.
One night, a few moons after the Clan had left the camp abandoned. A shadow descended into camp followed by a wave of shadows. Claws flashed in the night and teeth gleamed. A familiar set of ice blue eyes settled on the den of Smokestar.
"I'm back, Smokestar," his cool voice echoed through the camp. "I told you," he murmured as he pushed through the ferns at Smokestar's den, "you would regret it. And now, your Clan has abandoned you and you are completely alone."
"Volestep, I—" Smokestar scrambled away from him.
"No, Smokestar, it's over for you," Volestep smiled cruelly and then lunged forward with a snarl.