Chapter 3
Author's Note: Hi! I'm sorry that I've been taking so long to update. I've been really busy lately and can't find much time to update. But I'm still going to continue this story. So here's the chapter.
Dewberry blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. The sky overhead was a vast blanket of silvery-grey clouds without a speck of blue. The thought of where she was had barely formed in her mind when she realised that her forepaws were churning water and her back legs were kicking out in neat, swift strokes, keeping her afloat.
"Why am I floating?" wondered Dewberry aloud.
The words were barely out of her mouth when she realised that she was in the middle of the lake, a vast expanse of glassy blue ending in sandy ground with the clans' territories beyond. There was something about the place that felt odd. Something is not right about this place, thought Dewberry to herself, her muscles tensing slightly as she wondered what was going on.
Her muscles were gradually starting to tire and she wondered how long she had been keeping herself afloat in the water. It didn't seem like time existed in this place because it was completely silent and still except for her and several logs gliding like ghosts on the water's surface. There wasn't the slightest breeze and the place was devoid of scents. Spying one of the logs drifting through the water that was relatively closer to her, Dewberry paddled towards it, eager to get her fur dry and relax her paws that were starting to ache with the effort. She dimly wondered where she had learned how to swim but the thought simply melted away a heartbeat after it came to her mind and she thought no more about it.
As Dewberry approached the log, she faintly noticed that it was shaped like a cat but continued on her course, unperturbed. It was only when she was a fox-length away from the log that she noticed scarlet streaks painted across its surface. As she got a tail-length closer, she realised that the log wasn't a muddy brown as it should have been but grey with splashes of white, or at least that was all Dewberry was able to discern underneath the coat of crimson. Another tail-length closer and the grey and white medicine cat found her heart filling with dread. She wasn't sure what it was but something inside her told her to get away from it. As far away as she possibly could from what she was starting to distinctly recognise was not a log.
Dewberry tried to whisk around and paddle away in the opposite direction but to no avail. As she gradually drew closer to it, a mouse-length at a time, she tried harder and harder to get away from it but it seemed to exert its own gravitational pull on her, drawing her closer and closer with every passing heartbeat. She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of what she might see next and sent a silent prayer to Starclan begging for help.
She didn't know whether an eternity had passed or just a few heartbeats but she realised that she had reached it and that Starclan was as silent as her prayer had been. She drew in a deep breath, letting her lungs fill with crisp air and a little courage, and opened her eyes apprehensively, tentatively reaching out a paw to find out what it was. Soft fur greeted her paw but there was something wrong about it. It was wet and sticky. She drew back her paw in surprise and fear and examined it. Her eyes widened with terror when she saw her paw pad stained red. Red with blood, she realised as the overpowering metallic tang filled her nostrils. She gasped and her breath came in broken, ragged gulps.
Steeling herself, she let her paws rest on the bloodied fur before pushing gently to turn the still, lifeless body.
Blank, green eyes met her blue ones and she opened her jaws wide to scream but there was only silence. Her whole body was screaming, screaming that this couldn't be possible. Her heart began palpitating so wildly that it should have broken free from her. It beat rapidly as though it was trying to pump the life-giving liquid through the lifeless, cold body of the still she-cat whose empty eyes bore into Dewberry's. To bring her back. But it was in vain for she stayed still as ever. Dewberry stared at the empty, green eyes of her sister, Snowpelt, devoid of any emotion or life. Dead, just like their owner was.
"Snowpelt," choked Dewberry, her voice flooded with pain, a pain greater than any that claws and fangs could cause which struck and ravaged her soul.
Snowpelt's beautiful grey and white fur was barely visible under the crimson coat of blood. A grisly wound stretched across her neck, a river of blood flowing freely from it, turning the water a nauseating pink.
Dewberry stay frozen in place, unable to move, shock and fear numbing her. Her gaze flitted around the lake, looking at the now distinctively cat-shaped bodies she had assumed were logs. Tears seeped into her eyes and she stifled a sob. The water had a pink tint to it. Tinted with the blood of the cats. The revolting coral spread throughout the water and before long the once blue lake began steadily turning red.
Dewberry didn't dare to look at the other cats, afraid of what she would see. Afraid that every cat she had ever known and loved would be floating lifelessly on the water's surface, a fountain of blood ensuing from them.
Dewberry suddenly pricked her ears at the sound of purring for it was the first sound she had heard apart from herself in this place. She scanned her surroundings, unsure whether she was supposed to be relieved or fearful that she wasn't alone in this place.
Dewberry paddled her paws to face the direction where the purr had originated from. Her paws were heavy and she barely felt them as she did so. A silver tabby she-cat had her eyes fixed on her, her hungry gaze unsettling Dewberry. Her leaf-green eyes were wild with excitement and anticipation and her fangs and claws were stained red with blood.
Dewberry felt sick to her stomach at the sound of the she-cat's soft, crooning purr. How could any cat be so oblivious to the many bleeding dead cats around her let alone be delighted as the she-cat appeared to be?
The she-cat approached the water's edge, her hungry gaze fixed on Dewberry. Dewberry's eyes shone with fear and she tried to move but she couldn't. The she-cat was about to slip into the water when she paused, a smirk making its way onto her face.
Dewberry gave a screech as something dragged her down under the bloody water. Whatever had done it was swift and had deftly pulled her head underneath the surface. She opened her jaws to cry for help but the scarlet water surged into her mouth and filled her lungs. Her lungs were burning, screaming for sweet oxygen. She flailed her paws desperately, trying to break above the water's surface unsuccessfully.
Her vision was darkening, blackness framing her sight. Her limbs felt heavy and her last, frantic movements sluggish. Dewberry tried to think, think what she should do but she couldn't. Her mind was blank and light. She couldn't feel or hear or see anything anymore. Darkness welcomed her after she made her last feeble stroke.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it even though it was shorter than usual. I'd really appreciate reviews and constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!
~Rain
