Beautiful Insanity - Part 2: Chapter 4

2.4 – α cαт σƒ ѕнα∂σω αη∂ вℓσσ∂

BloodClan? Lostface wondered in awe. Is there a fifth Clan, or is this just some foolish kittypet messing around pretending to be a warrior? "What do you mean 'BloodClan'?" she asked. There was no snarl or wariness in her voice, only pure curiosity.

You know what they say about cats and curiosity.

Scourge smiled slightly. "I saw you come in from the forest—you must be one of those wild cats. You wouldn't be the first one I've met, but it's clear that you aren't from around here. But none of this matters. BloodClan is the Clan I created shortly after I gained control over the Twolegplace. There isn't a kit born who doesn't know my name or fear it. I'm respected; I'm their leader. None of the stray cats here would even be alive today if it weren't for me. All of my warriors look up to me—they do exactly as I say when I say it."

Lostface flattened her ear. "It sounds like you haven't created a Clan, but a cult of personality!"

The small, black tomcat laughed maniacally. Once he caught his breath, he leapt down from the fence and smiled at her. "I've never heard it put like that before, but it's a good way to describe it! You're quite an inquisitive little thing aren't you?"

Struggling to hold in her contempt at his word choice, Lostface bit her tongue and averted her gaze to the body of the unlucky kittypet. The poor she-cat lay limp, her limps splayed out as if she were dreaming, but her eyes were open wide. Blood had ceased to rush from the wounds, but a crimson pool had formed around her tiny body. Her long, tabby fur had soaked up some of it, making it appear larger than normal, as if it were a sponge. Lostface suppressed a shudder at the thought. Just because she enjoyed killing that waste of space didn't mean she liked looking at the finished product.

The eccentric character took another step closer, and Lostface took one step back in response. Scourge flicked an ear, noticing her move. "You know, for a female Quasimodo, you aren't too bad looking."

Lostface had no idea what he mean by that, but couldn't help but laugh at his remark. Was he seriously suggesting that she was pretty? Even mildly so? "That's rich," she muttered before eyeing the fence behind him. All she wanted was to get out of there, and quickly. The Clan will start wondering where I am… and Cloudtail might come here to visit his little… friend. I really don't wanna be here when he finds her, either.

"What happened to you?" Scourge inquired. The leader of this so-called "BloodClan" seemed genuinely interested in her story.

Despite this, Lostface changed the subject. "How did you start BloodClan?" She actually wasn't at all interested in that, but it was better than talking about the dogs. The last thing I want is to… relive that… It was bad enough the first time… And… Swiftpaw… Lostface closed her eyes for a moment; she hadn't thought of Swiftpaw in a long time. What would you think of me now? Oh, Swiftpaw… You don't know how much I miss you. You would have never abandoned me like Cloudtail did.

Scourge's tail twitched. Lostface felt a tad uneasy as he looked at her—examined her. It was as if he saw through every single word he said, as if he knew there was a deeper meaning to it all. "I earned the respect of the other strays, and the next thing I knew, they'd placed me up on a pedestal. They treated me like I was the leader of some kind of Twoleg mafia. I was their king. If anyone had a problem, they came to me, and I dealt with it for them. A lot of cats owed me favors, and they soon started piling up. Eventually, it got to a point where many cats couldn't repay me, so I offered them a way out of it. I told them to give me their lives to wipe away the debt."

Lostface's hackles rose, but she forced herself to relax. How could she be repulsed by his… practices? She had just ripped a kittypet's throat out for StarClan's sake! You're being a hypocrite, Lostface! she thought, rebuking herself.

"Many of them did—they became my… warriors. They agreed to serve me for as long as they lived in order to refund me for my services, but also, for protection. No one messes with BloodClan, you see? We are untouchable, invincible, immortal," Scourge said, his voice laced with pride and just a hint of insanity.

Lostface let out a hollow laugh. "Immortal? Please, without you, your 'Clan' would probably crumble in seconds!"

Amusement flashed in Scourge's eyes. "You are rather inquisitive! You know, I wouldn't mind having a cat like you in my Clan. You amuse me, but you're smart too—you could be of use to me."

Recoiling away from him at the mere thought of getting entrapped in one of his one-sided bargains, Lostface hissed. "Well find another she-cat that got her face ripped off! I am loyal to ThunderClan." Am I really though? Once upon a time, the answer was so simple; she would have died for her Clan, or any of her Clan-mates. Now, however, she wasn't so sure. How could I lay down my life for the cats who abandoned me?

"Are you?" As if he could read her mind, the small, black tom arched a curious eyebrow.

Lostface swallowed the rising lump in her throat and nodded determinedly. "Yes."

The BloodClan leader let the topic rest and padded closer still to her. This time, Lostface didn't cringe away as he approached. She caught a whiff of him and struggled to keep a straight face; he smelled like garbage and decaying animals. Revolted by his stench, she shifted away slightly. Scourge seemed to notice this, but made no comment. "Before you go back to your Clan, Lostface, I'd like to show you around. You never know—you may change your mind once you see what I can offer."

She wanted to refuse—she wanted to shout it at him—but she couldn't find the strength. Killing the kittypet seemed to have weakened her. Was this guilt that had crept into her limbs making them next to useless? Had remorse hijacked her mind and drained her of the will to fight? "I don't exactly have a choice, do I?"

Scourge simply laughed.

After finding a puddle to wash off Jasmine's blood, Lostface, still not quite sure how it all came about, did as Scourge asked. They traveled through a narrow alley, tall, Twoleg structures rising high above their heads in a domineering manner. Entering the Twolegplace for her revenge was one thing, but wandering about with some shifty kittypet-Clan leader was too strange for her. A few cat-lengths in front of them, the passage came to an end. The high, tall, Twoleg structures that rose up on either side ceased to exist, allowing sunlight to touch the pavement. A cold, late leaf-fall wind slapped the two cats in the face as it swirled down the alley. Lostface suppressed a shudder and found herself moving closer to the BloodClan leader for warmth.

When they reached the end, Lostface suddenly realized why the Twoleg structures had halted—a Thunderpath cut right throw them. Its stink made Lostface's lips curl in disgust, but Scourge didn't seem to notice. He plodded forward out into direct sunlight and hung a left. Lostface lingered in the shadows, unsure if she was prepared to step out into plain view. Great StarClan, what would the Twolegs think of me? However, due to the fact that she was terrified of behind left alone in this horrible maze, she scampered after him, pelt bristling.

The first thing Lostface noticed is how few Twolegs there were here. Most of them were in the monsters that traveled on the Thunderpath, and they didn't even look at them. I wonder where they all are, Lostface wondered. Usually they're everywhere! Constantly making fools of themselves and soiling the earth in the process… But it's strange; I don't see any. Are they all in the monsters? Or are they all in their dens?

After trekking on a ways in the open, Scourge swung into another alley, but this time, he picked up the pace. At first it was just a trot, then a bound, and then he was practically sprinting down the straightaway. Lostface struggled to keep up with the smaller, more agile cat. And then, as suddenly as his speed increased, he skidded to a halt by a white fence. Flashbacks of leaping into Jasmine's yard flooded into Lostface's head as Scourge leapt up and over the fence. Horrifying thoughts rushed through her as she began to imagine the worst. Is he… on his way to collect a… debt?

Bracing herself for the worst, Lostface shot up onto the fence and wobbled for a bit until she got her footing. To her surprise, a beautiful ginger she-cat stood in front of Scourge, purring and licking his cheek. The scene was so anomalous that Lostface had to do a double-take to make sure she saw it correctly. Scourge glanced up and jumped as if he were surprised that she was still following him. "Lostface, come down here! I want you to meet someone," he called before flashing a mischievous glance at the ginger she-cat.

Wary, Lostface did as he said, but one her paws touched the soft grass, she was rigid—frozen where she stood. She eyed the ginger she-cat dubiously—she was too pretty, too gaudy with her fancy collar to be with Scourge! Despite these facts, Lostface could tell that what she was accurate; they were mates!

The moment Fawn saw Lostface's damaged façade, she gasped. "Oh my, what happened to you, sweetheart?!"

"Who are you?" Lostface asked, trying to avoid her question.

"Lostface, this is my mate, Fawn."

"Lostface?" Fawn breathed, aghast. "Is that really your name?"

Lostface faltered under the she-cat's intense gaze. "Y- yes…"

"What happened to you?" Fawn asked again.

Losing her patience Lostface let out a low growl. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?" she hissed through clenched teeth. Was this kittypet just as stupid as the last to bother her like the last one did?

Scourge narrowed his eyes in a warning gesture before giving the kittypet a quick lick. "Don't worry about it, Fawn. Lostface has had a… bad morning is all."

The Clan cat snorted in response. Bad morning is a bit of an understatement. "I thought you said you were going to give me a tour of your 'territory', not introduce me to kittypets!"

Fawn shot her mate a curious look at her statement, but Scourge didn't offer an explanation. "Alright then," he muttered, padding away from her. "Let's go."

Lostface gave him a curt nod and followed him out of the yard. The pair walked along in silence, Lostface trailing behind the small tom as he navigated through the perplexing layout of the Twolegplace. After what seemed like ages, they finally came to an alley that was larger than the rest—it looked more like a miniature Thunderpath than anything. She wavered for a moment as Scourge easily plodded along down the rancid path. When the BloodClan leader realized she wasn't following him, he halted and glanced over his shoulder. "Coming, Lostface?"

Gathering up all her courage, and putting faith into the idea that Scourge was not trying to get her killed, Lostface followed. She stuck close to him so if he made a sudden move, she could do the same. However, it soon became clear that his intention was not to kill her; at the end of this path was a small open area surrounded by Twoleg dens and a brown fence. The only way out was the way they'd came unless Lostface wanted to scale the pointy fence and risk a venture into unknown territory.

The minute Scourge entered the open space, cats appeared from almost every direction making Lostface almost jump out of her skin. Cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors slunk toward them. Each wore a collar studded with teeth but only few had the claw extensions. A particularly large black-and-white monster padded right up to Scourge and dipped his head in submission. His eyes then settled on Lostface; his lips curled.

"What is that thing doing here?" he demanded, flexing his long, extended claws. "She smells like one of those forest fools!"

Scourge raised his tail for silence, and the monster tom immediately obeyed. "Bone, this is Lostface. She is from the forest. I found her… settling a dispute with a housecat. She's a good fighter."

The cat named Bone eyed Lostface warily. "I don't trust her Scourge! What if she's a spy? An infiltrator?"

Scourge turned to look at Lostface. He studied for a moment as if he was considering that possibility. Lostface shifted her weight worriedly, awaiting his decision; he could have her killed at the flick of his tail. Luckily, Scourge shook his head and looked at the larger tom. "She isn't."

Bone did not look convinced, but Scourge turned away, refusing to acknowledge it any further. "Lostface, come with me," he meowed simply, as if he expected her to do so. There was something so self-assured, and so arrogant to his voice that made Lostface's pelt prickle. He had no right to order her around, but there was no way she could disobey him on his turf. She had no choice.

She trotted after him, wanting to keep close just in case any of the other cats suddenly decided to take matters into their own paws where she was concerned. Scourge didn't seem to mind or notice this; if he did, he kept it to himself. He led the way over to a large, blue structure that stunk of rotting food and sun-kissed garbage. Lostface's nose wrinkled in disgust as Scourge easily slipped underneath the container. Not having much of a choice, Lostface did the same. As she pushed herself through, she discovered that there was dip in the earth large enough so both cats could fit underneath comfortably.

Once she was fully inside and had settled herself, Scourge began to speak. "What do you think?"

Lostface shrugged. "To be honest, I haven't seen much."

Scourge rolled his shoulders and twitched an ear. This comment seemed to displease him. "There isn't much else to show. Out there is our meeting area—whenever a Clan meeting needs to be called, I climb on top of this dumpster and we discuss whatever needs to be discussed. When cats need a favor, they come to me and we speak in this very den."

"Where do the other cats sleep?" Lostface inquired. For a moment, she realized that she wouldn't be surprised if they actually slept out in the elements.

Scourge shrugged. "Anywhere they wish, but this den is reserved for me and me alone."

"I see."

"How different is this setup from that of… your Clan?" he asked. Amusement flashed in his eyes when he referred to ThunderClan, but Lostface struggled to ignore it. Even now, the instinct to defend ThunderClan was still prominent—it had been ingrained in her from a young age and it still had not faded.

"Very different," she replied, trying to sound casual. She didn't intend to tell him the exact differences—no Clan gave personal information to outsiders; it was practically begging for trouble.

"How so?"

"Just the morals in general."

"You mean the morals of honor, loyalty, and having respect for all life?" Scourge asked, almost snickering as he did so.

"Yes, those morals," she answered in a growl.

"The ones that you follow so carefully?"

Lostface faltered for a moment; she had nothing to say to that.

"I know that you don't believe in all that, Lostface. I know that you have felt severe pain, and you want justice for all that you've suffered… It's a reasonable request if you ask me. Your Clan, do they support you? Do they care for you? Do they help you achieve that justice? Or are they the ones who need to be punished?"

Lostface did not know what to say. Was it really that easy to see what the problem was? He was right about all of it, of course, but what exactly did he suggest? That BloodClan could do that for her? "And you think BloodClan would?"

His whisker's twitched in amusement as he watched her. "I'm saying that BloodClan can help you."

She looked back on all the times her Clan had ignored her. She remembered how Cloudtail had dismissed her so quickly and turned on her. They did not deserve to live. Every single member of ThunderClan was a traitor in her eyes, and they had to be eliminated. Lostface closed her eyes for a moment, seriously considering Scourge's offer. He could help her. He could make them all go away with just a twitch of the tail. It seemed too good to be true… There had to be a catch.

"I know you aren't doing this out of the goodness of your heart," Lostface meowed, opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. "What do you want in return?"

"I—BloodClan would love to welcome you as a warrior."

She didn't need a further explanation. She was making a deal with the devil—selling her soul so they could commit an atrocious deed. Brightpaw would have been repulsed. Brightpaw would have refused. Brightpaw would have gone back to camp and told Swiftpaw all about it. Brightpaw would have never even considered making such a deal.

But Brightpaw was gone now.

Lostface took a deep breath. She was going to agree—she was going to become an indentured servant to BloodClan for the rest of her life… and she was okay with that. But suddenly… suddenly something sparked inside her—Uncertainty? Regret? Fear?—that made her stop. She couldn't make this decision right now. She had to sleep on it at the least.

"I'll think about it."

A/N: MWAHAHA BloodClan's Wrath reference.