AN: Oh look, one of your favorite characters!

13. Nothing

He flicked his tail slowly from side to side, sweeping his golden gaze over his Clanmates; he couldn't help but smile. The war was nearly over; ShellClan and MarshClan had crumpled before FrozenClan's power. He could almost taste the victory on his tongue. He savored the feeling, taking in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.

Soon, he thought. Soon, we'll have everything that we ever wanted…the Clan is proud of me now. They welcome me. Kits stare at me with adoration, she-cats whisper to one another, toms praise my prowess….He let out a long, low purr. It was a good feeling to be needed. It was even better to be revered.

He swept his tongue over his muzzle, flicking his gaze over the camp once more, meeting the eyes of his warriors – no, his followers. For he had finally achieved that stature, that power that he had always craved. He was someone, out of everyone else, and that was all that mattered.

His ear flicked as he heard his name on the breeze whispering through the tunnels of the cave; he blinked with surprise to see one of the warriors from the most recent patrol standing in the entrance to the cave.

"Hello, Tigerfur," he said. The patrol leader gave him a polite nod, before flicking his tail; behind him was the rest of the patrol, and another cat that he didn't recognize.

He drew in a breath, tasting her scent; she watched him with frightened green eyes, set in a pretty cream face.

Rogue, he thought, savoring her scent in his mouth; she smelled like flower petals, soft and delicate.

"Who is she?" he asked. Tigerfur's fur ruffled uncomfortably.

"She won't speak to us, so we aren't sure," he meowed. "We followed her scent, though. She probably comes from the pine forest."

He frowned. "There has been a lot of unrest in that area, correct?"

Tigerfur nodded. "Twolegs have been messing around there; we can see the smoke from their machines from the tunnels."

He let out a hiss of distaste at the thought of the Twolegs; he hated them almost as much as he admired their power.

A single Twoleg can chase off any warrior, he thought. One monster can send a Clan scattering for cover….

"Wait here," he ordered. Tigerfur nodded, and he padded towards the leader's den, poking his nose inside.

Cold golden eyes greeted him. "Yes, Ratwhisker?"

"Tigerfur's patrol just returned with a stranger," he meowed quickly. "She won't speak, but from what they can gather, she's just some rogue…."

The white tom rose to his feet. "It would be best to get rid of her, then. We're at a touchy place in this war, Ratwhisker. It would not be wise to let her go when we still have BirchClan to conquer."

"Of course, Northstar," he said quickly. "But..I was wondering if you would let me handle this?"

His leader watched him with caution. "What do you have in mind?"

Ratwhisker's golden eyes glowed. "Well, Crowtalon and I have an idea, based on some of your father's older…work."

Northstar's lip curled. "That old experiment? I've told you that I have no interest in that. We don't need to break she-cats or whatever you call that disgusting practice."

"I know that you've never been completely in favor of it," he said quickly, "but I only wish to use it as an experiment. If it works, it could be very useful, not only for she-cats, but for all of the cats that you are bringing under your control by crushing the forest Clans."

His leader's eyes narrowed. "I can hardly see that. From what I've heard, each cat would have to be 'treated' individually, and it takes a very long time."

"This is true…but if we had time, we could refine the technique. I am certain of that. Please, Northstar, just give me this one chance. What is one rogue worth, when there is a war going on?" His lip almost curled as he pleaded; it was difficult for him to uncurl his pride to do so, but he knew that Northstar's ego had to be soothed; the white tom had to believe that he held absolute power.

The fool has no idea that Crowtalon plans to betray him, Ratwhisker thought smugly. But then again, few cats do. I am one of those privileged few. Crowtalon sees the value in me, unlike you, Northstar. If need be, I can simply wait for Crowtalon to overthrow you, and conduct my experiments then….

The tip of Northstar's tail twitched from side to side; he appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, he let out a growl.

"Fine. But I don't want this to be heard by the rest of the Clan. Tell Tigerfur you're escorting her back to wherever she came from. Make sure wherever you go it is far away from camp, somewhere that no one will stumble onto it."

His eyes glinted, and he dipped his head. "Of course, Northstar. No one will find out, I promise you that.'

Northstar flicked his tail. "You are dismissed."

Ratwhisker could hardly contain his excitement as he trotted out of Northstar's den, towards the waiting warrior.

"Northstar has decided that we should take her home," he said, fixing the rogue with his powerful golden gaze. "I'll take care of it."

Tigerfur was grateful; he was obviously tired from his patrol. "Understood, sir. Thank you." Ratwhisker relished the moment as Tigerfur dipped his head before padding away.

He grinned at the cream rogue; she stared back at him with frightened green eyes.

"Don't worry, pet," he purred, touching her flank. "You're safe with me. Let's get you home."

. . .

The she-cat let out a gasp of pain as his claws sliced into her flesh. He grinned, tasting her fear and blood.

"You're nothing, do you hear me?" he snarled down at her. "You are nothing. You are weak, defenseless, filthy, pathetic. You huddle here before me, powerless. You are no more important than a pebble in the mountains, a grain of sand in the sea, a single leaf in the forest. You are nothing."

The she-cat let out a muffled whimper. "Please. Please, stop. Let me go. I won't tell anyone, I promise—"

At this, he laughed, throwing his head back and allowing his cackle to ring against the stone walls of the den, battering the she-cat's ears. "You'll never get out of here, pet," he purred, shoving his muzzle aggressively into her face. "There's only one way you're getting out of here, and that's in my jaws when I throw your body off of the nearest cliff."

Horror filled her eyes then, and he reveled in it. Then, he sliced her muzzle with his claws, sending her head thudding against the hard stone floor.

"Did I say you could look at me, filth?" he screeched down at her. "I am infinitely more powerful than you. I am nobility compared to the sorry likes of you, do you understand? You will not look at me unless I tell you that you can!"

She let out another whimper. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she whispered to the stone floor, trembling helplessly on the cold ground. Ratwhisker allowed himself a cruel grin.

"You're nothing, pet," he whispered into her ear. "Wherever you came from, your family is already forgetting you ever existed…or they're dead. Your memory will be forgotten to the sands of time, torn away like so many others. You will never be like me. You will never have a legacy. You will be forgotten, like every other miserable rogue like you."

He turned around and left the den, rolling the boulder into the entrance with his shoulder, letting out a deep, rumbling purr as he headed back to camp.

Northstar called him into his den almost immediately.

"How are you progressing on your…task?" the white tom asked. Ratwhisker glanced down towards the vole sitting between his leader's black paws, and his mouth filled with water.

"It's going well," was all he said. Northstar's eyes narrowed.

"It's been several days now, and you've been less than discreet. There's always blood on your claws when you come into camp."

Ratwhisker surveyed his claws with an expression of mild surprise. "So there is."

Northstar let out a threatening growl, and before Ratwhisker quite knew what was going on, the white tom was on his paws, staring him down, pelt bristling.

"I told you to keep this a secret, and you're failing," he snarled. "Not only that, but you've made very little progress."

"These things take time!" Ratwhisker protested, ears flattening. "You can't break a she-cat in two or three days, you know."

"Which is exactly why I was never with my father on this issue," Northstar hissed. "Hurry it up. You have until the halfmoon. If she is not completely broken and obedient to you by then, kill her. I don't need my best warriors distracted by torturing she-cats."

Ratwhisker's temper flared. "That's only a few days away, not nearly enough time!" he snarled. Immediately Northstar's eyes blazed, and Ratwhisker realized his mistake. Before he could even move, FrozenClan's leader had pinned him to the ground.

"You may be the hero of our battle with ShellClan, but do not think it makes you immune to my wrath," Northstar hissed, his breath hot against Ratwhisker's face. "You are subservient to me. Do not mistake that. You have until the halfmoon."

. . .

Ratwhisker entered the den, his pelt crackling with anger; the she-cat's eyes flew to his face, and he let out a fearsome snarl, hitting her head so hard that she flew into the back of the den.

"What did I tell you? You are not worthy to look me in the eyes!" he yowled, his tail lashing.

Who does Northstar think he is? He seethed. He cannot interfere with this. I will not let him! This is my experiment, and I will conduct it as I see fit!

"Look at me!" he snarled down at her. She cowered before him, refusing to raise her eyes. He slashed at her shoulder, and she felt back with a cry. "Look at me!"

"Y-you said not to," she half-mewed, half-wailed.

"Do what I say, understand? I am your master, your only master! You will listen to me and only me, do you understand?" He struck her again, leaving her muzzle streaked with blood. She collapsed under his blow, and this only made him angrier.

"Have you no backbone? No spirit?" he raged, and struck her again, and again, and again, raining blows down upon her until she was nothing more than trembling bloody fur.

"When I tell you to look at me, you will do so," he spat down at her. "Do you understand? Look at me, you pathetic scrap!"

She did not move for a long moment; then, slowly, her green eyes fluttered open and made their way to his face. Just as slowly, they slid away.

He panted, exhausted by his abuse of her. Finally, he turned away, padding out of the den without a word.

He leaned against the boulder for a long moment, simply panting, catching his breath.He looked down at himself, and realized that he was covered in blood, none of it his own.

Northstar won't be pleased, he thought, and all of his anger rose back up again at the thought of his leader. I hope Crowtalon destroys him, he thought vehemently.

He shook himself with a scowl. I'll need to find a stream and wash all of this off, I suppose. Better hurry. He glanced towards the den, which was still wide open, then smirked. I don't even have to close it. She's not going anywhere looking like that…and leaving open the possibility of freedom will torture her so much more deliciously.

For a moment, he felt a tremor of unrest – was he really deriving so much pleasure from torturing this she-cat? He had done similar things in the past – being a little too fierce against his fellow apprentices while sparring, planting thorns in the nests of his Clanmates, and then of course his brutal victory over ShellClan - but he had never gone quite this far.

He shook himself again. I'm doing this for the Clan, not merely myself. Crowtalon will see it for what it is: a valuable asset to the Clan.

With that, he turned away, padding up the rocky incline, heading for the nearest stream.

It was the softest whisper of a pebble skirting over stone that alerted him; he was already twenty fox-lengths away from the den when he heard it. He turned around quickly, his eyes widening as he saw the she-cats cream form, half out of the den. She stared up at him, her green eyes wide, and for a moment they were both perfectly still.

Then, she bounded forward with all the agility of a deer, springing over the stones in her path; he both marveled at her speed and cursed her for it as he tore after it, narrowly avoiding losing his grip on the stones and tumbling down the mountainside.

"Stop!" he snarled, but if anything she went faster. How can she run like that with her injuries? The back of his mind wondered, but he was too focused to care; anger blazed over his pelt, hotter than any fire, and he let out a feral snarl as he neared her. She shot him one terrified look over her shoulder, and he could see her surprise at the smirk that was crawling over his face, for he saw what she did not. She was ready to run straight over the edge of a cliff.

As soon as she turned back to focus on her path, she saw it, and she skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding going over the edge; a shower of pebbles in front of her fell instead, clattering down the sides, into the abyss.

"Nowhere to go now, pet!" he roared with triumph, only a few fox-lengths away. She turned to look at him again, but this time her eyes were not wide, not frightened. They were as cold as ice, chillingly green, and in that moment he knew what she was going to do.

"No!" he yowled, lunging, but it was too late; she was already in the air, was already gliding forward as softly as a feather. She twisted around, keeping her eyes on him, and his gaze followed her all the way down, until she disappeared into the shadows of the abyss.

Latching his claws against the edge, he leaned forward, trying to hear the noise of her striking the ground, but he could not; it seemed that she was falling forever. He waited, straining, but still did not hear the sound of her demise.

It was as if she had simply faded away into the darkness. Faded into nothing.

AN: Someone (can't remember who D:) suggested –whisker for his suffix after he told Nightshade that his prefix used to be Rat. Since I use –whisker for cats that are sensitive to emotion and all that, it worked out very well for him, cuz he's the best manipulator there ever was (he even managed to manipulate you guys when he died :D).

Anyway, this is obviously Blight's first victim. After Crowtalon overthrew Northy, Blight had time to attempt to 'break' one more she-cat before he was sent away on his scouting mission. His second attempt failed as well; Nightshade was his first success. Blight learns from his mistakes.

Her name was Fawnspring. She was a member of the Kalan, and one of Reedrush's good friends. Reedurhs never found out what happened to her, only that she disappeared one night as the Twolegs ripped the lake apart….