Another incredibly late, incredibly overdue chapter! I meant to upload this a month and a half or so ago, but I kept getting distracted. I've been out of touch with writing and instead been investing time in digital art. I've been having terrible writer's block, you see, so any ideas for the next chapter (and/or next COUPLE chapters. I need to bridge my way to the finale already. This is dragging on too lonnng.) would be IMMENSELY appreciated! As are all your wonderful comments! I don't have the time tonight to answer them, but please know that I read and anxiously wait for every single one and thank you all SO MUCH for your support of my story!

So here's the long-awaited chapter 52! Enjoy!


Chapter 52: Greyleaf

Her heart clenched.

The Tunnel.

Images of Sparrowpaw's beaten and bloodied form plagued her mind, flashing across her senses with the memory smell of blood and fear. She couldn't help it; she fliched. She didn't want to go to the Tunnel. Anywhere but the Tunnel.

Death, seeing her apprehension, smiled crookedly and flicked his tail for her to follow him. She could have sworn she heard a low chuckle come out of his mouth.

"Never again," Greyleaf whispered to herself as fear tried to grip her heart. "Never again will I be afraid…. Not of him; not of anyone. Not of him."

If he heard her, he gave no sign of it, and the two padded calmly across the open expanses between them and the waterfall cave, each step bringing her closer to terror than the last.

"I will not be afraid; I will not be afraid," she whispered.

An ear flicked back. She paused. Silence fell. She couldn't say anything more, or risk more torture on herself, possibly even her kits. Greyleaf steeled herself silently for what was to come.

If she knew what was to come.

From the tales the other she-cats told… she dared not think of it.

Before she could even blink, they had arrived.

Mutely, Greyleaf followed Death into the Tunnel, wondering if she would be missed back at training. Only her hatred kept her from running out of the pitch-black tunnel faster than a rabbit; even her fur was prickling with fear of what atrocities laid ahead.

Cackling sounded behind her, coming from the throats of the other toms―those Starclan-forsaken beasts that had put her daughter through unbearable torture. If she had the strength to do so, Greyleaf would've ended the lives of every single one of them.

They'd put Sparrow into the same dark place she'd once been captive in. That was unforgivable.

And Death had let it happen.

She suppressed a snarl as his fur brushed against her side, fur she had once felt peace and warmth at touching. Now all she felt was bitter wrath. He had broken all his promises to her. Every. Last. One.

"Grey—"

"Shut up," she hissed, recoiling from the sound of his voice. At that sound the fear was gone, replaced only by hate. She layered it on thick over her breaking heart.

No more fear, she thought with a firm resolution.

The she-cat couldn't see a thing, but she could still hear, and that was all that was needed for her angry heart. If he tried to anything, she could just listen for his pawsteps and swipe him across the face.

Hopefully hit an eye, she thought with a wry smile.

"Greylea—"

"Don't call me that name!" She swiped her claws towards him, catching only thin air. "You lost the right to call me that name when you left me to die and watched our daughter be tortured!"

She couldn't believe herself. Almost couldn't believe herself. Who was this tenacious creature that could so readily speak her wrath?

Silence.

Then, a sob.

"Greyleaf I… I'm so sorry."

She narrowed her eyes, hardly believing her ears. This was not the voice of Death.

This was the voice of Pinestar, her beloved. He was speaking like her dear Pinestar. Death's croon disguised as the lovely lark.

Imposter, she thought in disgust. I will not be fooled by Blood's mind games. I'm done playing the weak one; you will not trick me you fox!
She remained silent, lashing her tail from side to side, every hair on end as she slowly backed away, a low growl forming itself in her throat. She kept it at bay only to hide her position from the monster, whose shadowy claws could appear at any moment to scathe her hide.

"I'm so sorry…. Greyleaf… please… please believe me," he whimpered, sounding farther away than before.

Greyleaf smiled; she was gaining ground.

But the vile creature would not shut up!

"Please, Greyleaf! Please I'm begging you! I… I had to do it. I'm sorry…. Dear Starclan I'm so sorry…."

Despite herself, the coarse growl escaped from her throat, and she found herself asking, "What?! What did you have to do?! Nothing! You did nothing! You are nothing but a despicable coward!"

He sobbed again, and the air around her seemed to shake with the force of it. This monster was good; he knew how to fake his tears.

After all, he faked his love.

"I'm so sorry! I've done you wrong; it was all an act! I promise you it was all an act," he wailed, "Please believe me, Greyleaf! I never meant for any of this to happen! I… I…."

He broke down in sobs once again, and soon thereafter the sound of his body hitting the floor came to her ears. Growling, Greyleaf backed up a pace, hissing and spitting at the ground ahead of her. She could hear him dragging himself towards where she crouched, and the she-cat retreated as far as she could until the cold knife of stone touched her haunches. Light filtered through, here; she was near the exit. Escape!

Her eyes turned back to the figure crawling towards her, and she curled her lip in disgust. The mighty Death, on his belly at the paws of a she-cat, looking up at her with sorrowful eyes and promises of mercy.

Had she been another cat, a weaker cat, she would have melted at the sight of those tearful amber orbs. But she wasn't another cat.

She was the new Greyleaf.

"I promise," he whispered, still looking up at her with pleading eyes. Dismal, heartbroken amber eyes. "It was all an act, a ploy, to get Blood to trust me. I promise, Greyleaf, I… I never meant for anyone to get hurt; I never meant—"

"For Sparrowpaw to get raped? For me to be left to bleed out and die? For our daughter to become a killer?" Greyleaf snarled, thrusting her face close to his and baring her teeth at him. "You left me. To die. Death."

Tears started raining down his face, and the dark tom turned away from her fiery gaze. In the quiet of his fake weeping, she could hear the yowls and laughter of the Bloodclan cats far behind them, mocking her as a toy for this Starclan-forsaken tom. They sounded so far away; she doubted they could hear them even if they hadn't been drowning out all sounds with their whooping and calling.

Stretching her claws to his neck, she growled, "You are a worthless, honorless, hideous piece of scat. Take your lies and get out of here, away from me. And my family."

He flinched, gritting his teeth in false pain. "G—Greyleaf," he choked out, "P—please. I—I'm telling the truth. Please believe me, Greyleaf. Please…."

She waited for his eyes to open and meet her gaze before stepping nose-to-nose with him and answering:

"I'll believe you when my blood and the blood of our kits stops calling out to me from these stones."

A flash of something went through his eyes, but Greyleaf didn't give him the chance to pounce on her from his position and ran, leaving the prostrate tom to grovel in the reek of his failure.