Sorry about last chapter.
Anyways, does anyone read my other fanfic, Stories of the Clans? If so, here's something you should know:
I'm working on that "big project". I'm aiming for around 10,000 to 12,000 words, and I'm only at 4,000 or so. But I'm working on it at every chance I get, so it'll hopefully be published, at a maximum, in two-three months.
I decided I'm going to do a bit on our favorite murderer's backstory. Enjoy.
WARNING- THERE WILL BE SWEARING. MORE THAN D*MN AND H*LL.
The scariest monsters
are the ones
that lurk within
our souls
-Unknown
He had once been innocent.
He had once had a sister.
He had once loved, felt empathy.
Now he is cold.
Now he is a murderer.
Now he is standing, staring at the family, while his son screams insults at him
Now he is broken.
He was born to Frozenfur and Icygaze. He had a sister named Cloudkit.
Their leader's name was Pondstar. She was a powerful female, with smooth white fur and blazing blue eyes. He looked up to her, and when his mother told him she would be visiting the nursery, he practically exploded.
When her blue gaze focused on him, he felt something stir inside. He sat up straighter, looked her in the eye, and meowed, "Welcome to the nursery, Pondstar!"
She had smiled, amused, before settling beside Icygaze. His mother beckoned them over and introduced them.
"Very nice kits," Pondstar had meowed. "They have the palest of fur- perfect candidates for becoming my successor."
He had beamed at that. Cloudkit merely blinked, eyes filled with contempt.
"So, Whitekit," the she-cat meowed, turning her attention to him. "Do you know what classifies a cat as a high-ranker?"
"A high-rank cat must have a pale gray, white, or silver pelt and blue, gray, silver, or yellow eyes to become a high-ranker."
She nodded at his answer, making him smile again. "Good. What about low-rank scum?"
He swallows hard, stomach churning at the thought of darkness. "They have ginger, brown, black, dark gray, gold, yellow, or amber fur and brown, green, orange, amber, or hazel eyes."
Pondstar nodded again, though she spat on the ground and whispered in Icygaze's ear, "Damn scumpelts. We should just kill 'em all."
Cloudkit chose the moment to pipe up. "You're a bully!" she hissed. "Dark-furred cats are the same as us!"
He saw his mother and his leader exchange a dark look. After a few more minutes of chat, Pondstar left.
The next morning, Cloudkit was gone.
He didn't question it- that was just the way things were in BrightClan. Yet when he headed outside to get a shrew, he wondered why his Clan was so cruel.
The high-rank toms were jeering and pushing around two pretty, dark-furred apprentices. One was crying as a tom, Suneyes (who happened to be his uncle), lapped at her fur, leaving tendrils of saliva to dry. The other was in shock, twitching on the ground.
"Stop!"
Pondstar marched to the pair, snapping at the toms. The two she-cats stared up at her in fright.
"You, the one with brown fur," she hissed. "Stand in front of me."
The she-cat complied.
Without another word, Pondstar sank her teeth into the apprentice's throat. He had gasped, scuffling backwards, yet desperate to see what would happen.
The body fell with a soft thump as the other she-cat made a run for the camp entrance. He had eagerly followed the group of enraged warriors. They followed once trail; he followed another. They never noticed him, nor did they hear the she-cat's terrified groan as he ripped open her throat.
Her name was Yarrowpaw, and she had tripped over a log and got ensnared in thorns. As she struggled, they cut deeper and deeper, rendering her defenseless.
He had discovered that day that enjoyed the feeling of his teeth in flesh, warm blood oozing around his muzzle, and watching the life fade from his prey's eyes. He had called for Pondstar after he groomed himself. She had halted in shock before exclaiming, "He must become an apprentice right away!"
So he did. Now he was Whitepaw, apprentice of Pondstar. His apprenticeship was quick and easy- Pondstar only fueled his need to kill, discovered a hidden hate for scumpelts, and proclaimed his every accomplishment to the Clan.
After a few moons of training, he became Whiteclaw, the ten-moon-old warrior. He was respected, renowned, glorified. He and Pondstar decided that he was the ideal candidate for the next leader and formed a plan to maim, but not kill, the deputy. Her name was Blossomsnow.
The plan didn't commence as they had expected. Whiteclaw had only been able to leave a deep, ugly scar down Blossomsnow's spine, yet it was enough the demote her to a low-ranker.
Now the deputy of BrightClan, he was assigned an apprentice. Her name was Moonpaw.
Moonpaw was a very charming she-cat, who knew her ways with the opposite gender. He had fallen into her trap and slowly started to love her.
After the normal length of training time, Moonpaw turned into Moonsong, and their relationship bloomed magnificently. After a few moons, she was pregnant, expecting his kits.
Yet why did tragedy have strike him?
He was called into the medicine cat's den early in the morning by the new medicine cat, Frostydawn. The silver tabby explained that Moonsong had woken up to find blood in her nest and an empty feeling in her stomach. The kits were dead.
"Damn it!" he had screamed. "Why?"
Frostydawn had tried to calm him, but he raged and swore.
"It's all her fault!" he shrieked. "That little Moon-shit's fault! I'm going to kill her!"
Pondstar had heard the commotion and entered the den in time to stop him from launching himself into the clearing.
He stopped talking to the proclaimed "Moon-shit".
A year passed. Pondstar lost her last two lives to greencough. It was his turn to lead.
When he received his nine lives, he got a life of bravery from his father, intelligence from his mother, and skill from Pondstar. Finally, his ninth life was upon him.
"I can't believe it," came Cloudkit's still-squeaky voice. He had glared down on her coldly. She continued to speak. "Killed an innocent apprentice, got a she-cat pregnant, called her a shit, and then left her after she lost your kits."
Her scornful words built up a rage in him that couldn't be controlled. He threw himself at her, roaring, "I'll kill you, you bitch!"
And kill her he did. He enjoyed watching her starry blood spill onto the silver grass. Pondstar approached him.
"Welcome, Whitestar," she meowed. "You may have only eight lives, but we still accept you as leader."
So here he is now. He's lost two lives to foxes, two to unruly rogues during city trips, one from falling into the river, and two from greencough. He's gained and lost a mate, who managed to produce two sons before he found her useless.
Now he's staring at the broken family. The she-cat is screaming and clawing at her mother's cold fur, her father pressed against her side. Blizzardpaw is screaming, "Why'd you kill her? You fox-heart! Why?"
He doesn't understand what is happening. All he knows is that he is blood-soaked, his name is Whitestar, and that he is shattering.