Stakes Rewrite

A/N: I decided to rewrite this chapter because I really didn't like the tone of the original. I felt as if I didn't quite capture the madness that I wanted to portray in Redfeather. I am keeping the original up, though, if you would like to compare.

I changed a lot of things in this version and I feel as if it turned out very well. This features most of the same characters and events but the way the events happen have been changed and it features Canyonpaw and Hawkpaw in less prominent roles. Most of the characters also underwent a personality revamp to fit more of what I originally intended for them to be (i.e. Redfeather is a lot more insane and possibly a less sympathetic character). Tell me what you think! And I'm so sorry for the long wait. With school and stuff I had to rethink my priorities and this fell into the category of not important.

Characters

Minkfoot – Gray and black tom with dark blue eyes.

Redfeather – Ginger she-cat with darker ginger stripes and umber eyes.

Rainmist – Gray she-cat with blue eyes.

Ravenkit – Black tom with a white paw and tail-tip and yellow-green eyes.

Canyonpaw – Dark brown tom with black spots and green eyes.

Hawkpaw – Light brown tabby she-cat with black stripes and blue eyes.

Screechfoot – Silver tom with white spots and amber eyes.

It was one of the most devastating murder sprees in the history of the Clans. And believe me, that's saying something. This killer was unique, however. She had special powers that cost a terrible price. How do I know? Well, that's a story for another day.

The full moon floated just above the canopy of the jungle. In the shadows below, two shapes weaved their way between bushes and over fallen debris, one seeming to chase the other. The identities of these shapes were indistinguishable in the thick shadows that fell beneath the twining branches overhead.

Frogs croaking and a snake hissing were the only night sounds to be heard over the roar of a distant river. As the shapes flitted through clearing after clearing, the frogs became silent, as if waiting with bated breath for what would occur.

Finally, the shapes came to a halt in a small glade. It was bathed in the soft, pale light of the moon and ringed with shadow where it met the large jungle trees. The one in front turned to face the other. Awash with light, the two were now recognizable.

The first was a dark ginger she-cat. Her umber eyes glinted darkly as the moonlight struck them. There was a deadly quality about her, as if she were a trap about to be sprung by some unwary fool. She stood calmly, as if waiting for the perfect moment to spring up and trap that fool.

The second was a gray tom, his pelt dark enough that the faint light was barely enough to make out his features. His blue eyes flared with emotion strong enough to singe the hair off a jungle rat. A low growl rumbled from the back of his throat as the fur on his spine stood on end.

The she-cat laughed. It was a demonic sound that seemed to come from everywhere and bounce off everything. She sauntered forward gracefully until she was almost nose-to-nose with the tom.

"Seems like I have a playmate tonight. Do you want to play, Minkfoot?" Her voice was like honey dripping from a hornet's nest and her breath was as sweet as a dying cherry blossom. Minkfoot shrank away from her, his ears flat against his skull. He pressed low to the ground as he addressed the she-cat.

"Why'd you kill him, Redfeather? How could you?" The grass swished as a gentle breezed washed over the clearing, tickling his belly fur. Redfeather sat, never taking her eyes off Minkfoot. Then she grinned. It was a horrendous grin, her lips pulled back in a half-snarl to reveal bloodstained fangs as sharp as a snake's. She giggled, it was that strange unearthly sound again, as if the devil himself had laughed. Minkfoot's blood froze in his veins.

"I killed him, my dear playmate, because I wanted to," she said. She acted as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Then she giggled again. The giggles wracked her body until she fell over in the soft grass, sides heaving from the unrestrained laughter. She took a deep breath and rose to her feet again, grinning that awful grin.

"You want to see how I did it?" Redfeather asked. She stared expectedly at Minkfoot and cocked her head to the side. He realized he had no choice and nodded reluctantly. Redfeather gave a little bounce and spun around. "Oh goody! Follow me!"

She took off and disappeared into the shadows on the other side of the glade. Minkfoot pelted after her and their little game of chase continued as they once again became shapes hidden amongst the shadows.

Minkfoot could only follow by her scent and the sound of her demonic laughter as it crept through the trees and to his ears. Occasionally, he would catch a glimpse of her fleeting shape weaving between the bushes or leaping over deadfall.

He nearly ran into her backside as he caught up to her in another glade, this one closer to the roaring river. She was staring towards the sky, past the moon and toward a single glimmering star above her. Minkfoot slid to an abrupt stop and padded warily to her side.

Without looking toward him, she spoke. "He was so dumb. It was such a fun time watching him spiral down, down, down." She paused. "He bled too. It made me giggle to see so much flow from the holes in his chest. And how he screamed." She closed her eyes and purred. "It was birdsong to my ears."

Redfeather turned to Minkfoot abruptly. He flinched as she began to circle him and sniff him. She grinned that hideous grin and sighed contentedly. Suddenly, her face grew serious. "Now it is time for you to fall too."

Quick as lightning, she shot forward and grabbed Minkfoot by the scruff. He yowled in shock and began to twist and turn, trying to break free of her murderous grip. He batted at whatever part of her he could reach with unsheathed claws. They glinted dully in the moonlight.

Redfeather drug him toward the center of the clearing. It was then that he noticed the fetid stench of the place. But he didn't notice the pit until Redfeather sat him roughly at the edge of it. He took one look down in that hole and tried to bolt. A cloud covered the moon.

He almost made it but Redfeather caught him by the tail at the very last second. Minkfoot yelped and dug his claws into the ground. Redfeather gave one hard yank and ripped him free of the hard earth and dug her own bloodstained claws into his hindquarters. He screeched as her claws drew blood and drug him ever closer to the death trap in the pit.

"No! Redfeather don't do this! Please! Please…" Minkfoot's pleas turned into scared whimpers as he realized it was a fatal mistake to try to talk with Redfeather. He shook as she sat him back at the edge of the hole.

"Now, be a good kitty and get in the stake pit." Minkfoot didn't move. Redfeather sighed and stood behind him. "Why must you kitties always be stubborn? It ruins my fun," she pouted. She took a couple of steps back and put her head down. She ran forward and head butted Minkfoot. He went flying into the hole with a strangled cry.

The cry soon became a gurgling sound as Minkfoot twisted upright and landed on the pointed sticks embedded in the hard-packed dirt floor of the pit. One pierced his chest, another his face. The final stake pierced his throat, tearing through his windpipe and rendering him nearly mute. Blood bubbled from his torn neck and at the corners of his mouth.

He struggled against the stakes, attempting to rid himself of the fiery pain that had engulfed his body. The struggles soon weakened as his blood dripped from his paws and onto the dry ground beneath him. Soon, he was dead, his clouded eyes wide and staring at Redfeather, who had watched with obvious delight from the top of the pit.

The moon appeared from behind the cloud just in time to shine down upon the corpse of the once fine warrior that was Minkfoot. It had come out just in time to reflect off his cold, lifeless eyes and guide him to the sky above.

Redfeather gazed in fascination at the corpse. She loved to watch as the last tiny drops of blood soaked into her prey's fur and caught the rays of moonlight from above. She turned at last from the pit and bounced out of the clearing and through the jungle, as happy as could be.

As she snuck back into the camp, something changed. As the thorns of the tunnel scraped her back, the glee faded, only to be replaced by regret and exhaustion. She crossed the clearing as quick and quiet as a shadow, plopped down in her nest at the center of the den and fell into the chaos of her nightmares.

A young kit woke at the break of dawn the next day. He crept out of the woven den that served as the nursery. He glanced behind him a few times to make sure his mother had not stirred and left the long thorn tunnel behind and went into the clearing.

The sun streaked the sky with a myriad of colors which twisted and tumbled over each other until it was unclear where one ended and the other began. These colors hovered gently over the swaying treetops that stretched in every direction as far as the tiny kit could see. To this kit, it seemed as if StarClan had painted the sky just for him.

The kit gazed around the empty clearing in wonder as he took in the sights. He had never seen it this bare of life and it fascinated him. Then, his little yellow-green eyes landed on a stick that had been carelessly left on the ground by the side of the nursery. The kit bounded over to this new discovery and took it in his teeth.

He tossed it high into the air and watched it fall to the dusty earth a few feet in front of him. With obvious delight, the kit bounced after it and repeated the process. He again watched the stick land with a small puff of dust. This time, the kit squealed with delight as he chased after his new plaything.

Suddenly, sharp teeth sank into his scruff and lifted him toward the sky. The teeth left his scruff and he went soaring. The kit squeaked in terror as he began to fall. The ground flew toward him at a terrifying speed until he hit it head on. He squeaked as pain flared in his left shoulder. Rising unsteadily to his feet, he whipped around to confront his attacker.

His black fur rose along his spine as he came face to face with a large ginger tom. This tom was twice as tall as the little kit and twice as broad as well. The larger tom's eyes flashed with a perverse kind of amusement as he observed the tiny black shape at his paws.

"Oopsies. Sorry, Ravenkit. I thought you were that stick over there," the tom said, his words mocking and arrogant. "You're so tiny and dark, it's very easy to make a mistake like that."

"G-Go away Emberpaw. You always ruin my fun," mewed Ravenkit. The kit was trembling and was attempting to slowly put more distance between him and the mocking apprentice.

"Aaawww. Did I ruin the wittle baby's game?" Emberpaw crooned, "I'm so sowee. I won't do it again." The tom was slowly following Ravenkit's backward steps with a malicious grin.

Ravenkit tried to hiss ferociously. Emberpaw laughed at his attempt and continued to stalk forward. Soon enough, he had the scared little kit backed into the thorn barrier at the edge of the camp. The apprentice unsheathed his claws. They gleamed like pearls in the rising sunlight. He raised his paw, poised to strike.

Ravenkit shrank into the barrier, the thorns jabbing into his spine. He didn't feel it, though, not like he knew he would feel those razor-sharp talons tearing at his flesh. He closed his eyes and prayed to StarClan for a savior.

"Hey! Emberpaw, what is going on over here?" As if on cue, the deputy came trotting over to where they were. Emberpaw turned and glared straight into the umber eyes of Redfeather. He sheathed his claws and but his paw back on the ground.

He chuckled nervously. "Nothing. Just a little game that me and Ravenkit made up."

"Yeah, whatever," snorted Redfeather. "Now go away and quit tormenting my nephew."

Emberpaw glared back at the little kit one last time. His gaze spelled murder as clear as the stars in the night sky. It was not over and Ravenkit knew it. The ginger apprentice spun around and slunk away, back toward the apprentice's den where his mentor was waiting.

When he was out of sight, Redfeather leaned down and nuzzled the tiny black kit. "Did he hurt you?"

Ravenkit shook his head. "Not too bad this time. You saved me before he could do anything."

"That is good. Come on, let us tell Rainmist," meowed Redfeather. She flicked her tail and began to walk back toward the nursery. Ravenkit padded close behind. He sighed with relief as the sweet shadows of the nursery welcomed him back into their comforting embrace. Rainmist lifted her head as she heard the brambles shift. She stared at them with bleary eyes.

"Good morning, Redfeather. What brings you here this early?" Rainmist's jaws gaped in a giant yawn and her gray fur rippled as she stretched. She stiffened with obvious anger as her sister spelled out what had occurred just a few moments prior. "Why that little wretch! Something needs to be done about that bile-breathed monster!" As she spoke, she wrapped her tail around Ravenkit and pulled him close.

Redfeather gazed over her shoulder with eyes as hard as flint. "Oh, something is going to be done. I will make sure of it." Her sister gazed at her, concerned.

"You're not going to do anything rash, are you Redfeather?" Redfeather didn't answer. She kept her gaze fixed behind her, as if transfixed by something mystical yet vaguely horrifying. Rainmist narrowed her eyes, worry clouding her thoughts. "Redfeather! Are you listening to me?"

Redfeather jerked, as if struck by lightning and tore her gaze away from whatever had entranced her and stared at Rainmist, her fur ruffled and a strange glint in her eyes, much like that of a rabid animal. "Huh? Y-Yeah, sorry." Redfeather looked down at her paws. "I was just going to talk to Hiddenfall and ask him to deliver a suitable punishment."

Rainmist was still wary. Something didn't seem quite right…But she let the feeling go. She trusted her sister to do the right thing and to not do anything stupid. The lingering doubt still gnawed at the back of her mind but she ignored it. "That seems like the best option."

Regaining her composure, Redfeather nodded. "I will have a word with him once I sort out the patrols for today." Rainmist relaxed and flicked her tail in a gesture of thanks. Her sister nodded once again then turned and returned to the world of harsh daylight.

Ravenkit glanced up at his mother. "Is Redfeather okay? She was acting really strange." Rainmist gazed down into his wide, round, blue eyes. She shook her head.

"I'm not sure, I'm not sure at all…" Eager to end this conversation, Rainmist looked over his pelt and began cleaning with long strokes of her tongue. "Now, let's get you cleaned up."

The next day, Emberpaw was nowhere to be found. He'd disappeared like whispers on the wind. Patrol after patrol were sent out to look and all came back with empty paws and not a single clue as to where he was.

On every patrol she could possibly manage to get on, a solitary white she-cat had insisted she aid in the search. Her exotic pink eyes glistened with worry so intense it made her fur stand on end. At the end of the day, when not a single sign of her brother had showed itself, the she-cat curled up in her nest and wept. She did not sleep, she was too broken, much like a fragile egg shell smashed by careless paws.

Across the moonlit clearing, eyes glistened in the entrance of the warrior's den. They were hungry, so very hungry. And they had found their next meal. With another of her hideous grins, Redfeather turned and skipped silently to her snug, mossy nest in the center of the den. Tomorrow night, she would have a new playmate.

The clearing was alive and bustling with activity when Ravenkit woke. He hadn't slept the night before. Whenever he closed his eyes, an awful vision would flash before his eyes. A white she-cat – Icepaw he presumed – was falling. Below her, a pit of sharpened sticks rose from the ground. Ravenkit tried to scream, but his lips were sealed. She kept on falling, spiraling downward toward her certain demise. He hadn't even slept after Rainmist told him his favorite story.

But that wasn't the concern right now. Ravenkit was focused solely on finding Redfeather and proving his vision wrong. He searched the entire camp as the bright sun rose in a cloudless sky. Redfeather was not in the camp.

Ravenkit spotted an apprentice across the clearing. Her name was Hawkpaw if he remembered correctly. Next to her sat a dark tom with black spots. That was Canyonpaw.

The two were chatting about mundane, ordinary things like the last Gathering and what happened on their respective last patrols. Ravenkit bounced over to them and cleared his tiny throat to grab their attention. They ceased their conversation and gazed at him expectantly.

"Do either of you know where Redfeather went?" he squeaked politely. He gazed up at them with innocent yellow-green eyes.

They looked at each other. Canyonpaw shook his head, as did Hawkpaw. Ravenkit's tail drooped. He knew what the answer was. "Sorry little kit, we don't. She might've gone out on patrol," offered Hawkpaw.

"Oh, okay." Ravenkit looked down at his paws. "Thanks anyway." He turned to pad back to the nursery, panic gnawing at his belly. He had to find her. There was nothing he could do until Redfeather returned to camp. He decided to return to the nursery and take a nap. Searching for and possibly stopping Redfeather was proving to be a lot more than he could take.

Rainmist was gone when he stepped into the shadows once more. Their cozy nest was empty, but still warm. She hadn't left but a few minutes earlier. Ravenkit was relieved. Now he wouldn't have to explain what he had been doing. Instead, he could just curl up in the soft, stringy moss and sink into sleep.

He did exactly that. He sank like a stone to the bottom of a river. At the bottom of the river that was sleep, Ravenkit found another nightmare. Again, he found himself at the top of that pit watching as Icepaw spiraled down, down, down…

Watching as she hit those wooded spikes…

Cringing as she screeched in agony…

Screaming as he was shoved over the edge…

He jerked awake before he could feel the searing pain; before he could see Redfeather staring down at him, silhouetted against the bright moon, her dark eyes alight with malicious glee. Ravenkit's black fur was damp with sweat and his heartbeat pounded against his ribcage, threatening to burst out of his chest.

He felt the calming touch of his mother's fur and looked behind him to see that she had curled herself around him and had fallen asleep. Then, he noticed the shadows of the den had lengthened considerably. Darkness obscured the farthest ends of the den like the hood of a cloak obscured a stranger's face.

Fear shot through Ravenkit like a lightning bolt. Icepaw was going to die tonight; he could feel it deep in his bones. Come moonhigh, she would be nothing but another corpse bathed in moonlight.

Without another thought, Ravenkit leaped to his paws and crept out of the den, pausing every few pawsteps to make sure Rainmist didn't wake up. He reached the clearing in time to see the sun set, to watch as the treetops were engulfed in flames of color, and to watch as that color disappeared below the earth. It all seemed to happen faster than it should have, like it had been fast forwarded by some unseen watcher.

Ignoring the uneasy feeling in his gut, Ravenkit stole across the clearing, using the shadows as cover. This process seemed slow and difficult and without an end. It felt as if hours had passed before he finally made it to the warrior's den. The woven brambles arched high above his head. It made Ravenkit feel very tiny, much tinier than he was. The thought crossed his head that someone was messing with time, or maybe with him.

He didn't pause to entertain the thought. Cautiously, he peeked in the den. All he could see was mounds of fur that were the warriors sleeping in their mossy nests. He couldn't see to the very center where the deputy slept, though. He would have to get closer.

He snuck past the sleeping cats that barred his way. As he moved, they seemed to grow, to expand until they were thick, furry walls standing between him and his goal. Fog was weaving its way through the den. It swirled around nests and shrouded everything in an impenetrable whiteness.

None of this struck Ravenkit as strange and he pushed on. He strained to see through the fog and around the growing warriors. One of the giant warriors shifted in his sleep and his enormous tail hit the ground mere mouselengths from Ravenkit's nose. He jerked back in surprise and didn't move until he was sure the cat was still asleep and his racing heartbeat had calmed.

He was so close to the center now. Between the walls of fur, he could see her. He could see Redfeather sleeping peacefully in her nest. Relief hit him like a wave and he turned to go; he had convinced himself that his vision would not come true.

That feeling of immense relief vanished as soon as he saw what was behind him. The giant warriors had disappeared. All that remained was dusty, disused nests and a thick black fog. Ravenkit couldn't see the brambles that made up the den, but he was sure there were ragged holes torn in them. He was also sure the whole camp lay in a state of devastation and disrepair like this.

He didn't even have to turn around to know that Redfeather was gone. But he turned anyway, compelled by some mystical force he was unaware of.

Her nest was the only one that looked used. The bright green moss was fresh and the feathers were newly laid. Dark red eyes peered at him from the darkness beyond the nest. They leered as a terrifying laugh split the air. If Ravenkit had known what sheet metal was, he would liken the sound to that of sheet metal screeching as it rubbed together.

He had crouched low to the ground, paws desperately trying to cover his ears and protect them from that awful laugh. Now, as the eyes began to move closer, Ravenkit scrambled backward. His eyes were fixed on the glowing red orbs that were rapidly closing in. The black fog hid the thing's body but it was a terrifying sight nonetheless.

Ravenkit squeaked as his hind paws hit one of those decrepit nests and he tripped. He fell into the nest, releasing a storm of dust and disintegrating any part he touched. He tried to wiggle his way upright but the dusty moss clung to him and held him tight as the monster loomed over him. He struggled and twisted and turned but there was no escape from the binding moss.

The red-eyed beast leaned in closer and the fog parted around it, as if by some silent command. Slowly, the beast was revealed. First, Ravenkit saw teeth glistening with saliva and stained with dried blood. Next, he saw glimmering claws, sharp as thorns. Then, he saw that terrible grin. Finally, he saw the ginger fur covered with splotches of blood, some fresh, some old and crusted.

Ravenkit's eyes widened as the beast came one step closer. The moss held him at its mercy. There was no way he could escape this nightmare. Another peal of laughter rang harshly in his ears. He flinched at the sound and wished she would stop the torture and kill him already.

The beast that was Redfeather leaned forward, her demonic red eyes glowing brighter with anticipation. It was like she had heard his thought and was happy to oblige his silent request. She purred, bathing the tiny kit in her sweet, dead cherry blossom breath. Her claws flashed as she brought her paw up, ready to deal the final blow.

They came down in a glittering arc and would've disemboweled Ravenkit if he hadn't jolted awake. He glanced around frantically, making sure he was still in the nursery and not trapped in that hellish nightmare. He relaxed as he took in the familiar sights of the nursery. The brambles were intact and the moss was clean and soft. Rainmist still hadn't showed up, but that didn't bother Ravenkit. In fact, it assured him that his nightmare wouldn't come true.

The shadows were lengthening and Ravenkit could tell the sun was setting. His vision rushed back to his conscience with the force of a bullet. "Oh no!" he whispered. He raced toward the den's entrance and burst into the clearing, searching for that familiar ginger pelt. She was nowhere to be found.

Anxiety wormed its way into his mind and grew with every passing minute. He had to stop her! But how? He didn't even know where she was or how to find her without getting in trouble. He whimpered, unable to do anything else.

"Hey, kit, are you okay?" Ravenkit whipped around at the sound of the voice. The apprentices he had talked to earlier were staring down at him. The tom, Canyonpaw, had asked the question. Ravenkit didn't know what to tell them. After a moment of mental debate, he decided he would tell them the truth. After all, maybe they could help him.

"It's Redfeather!" We have to stop her," he mewed urgently. "She's going after Icepaw. She's going to kill her!" He spoke fast and his words were met only with confusion.

"Wait, slow down," Hawkpaw said gently. "Did you say Redfeather is going to kill someone?" She gazed at Canyonpaw doubtfully as Ravenkit nodded.

"Who is she going to kill?" Hawkpaw asked. Canyonpaw tried to cut in but she shot him a look that said: Humor him.

"I think it's going to be Icepaw. She is the only cat in the Clan with white fur, isn't she?" Ravenkit answered. His eyes darted to the camp entrance, waiting for that familiar ginger pelt to appear.

"Well…" They thought for a moment. It seemed as if she was the only cat with white fur in the entire Clan. "I guess she is," said Canyonpaw. The two apprentices gazed at each other again, unsure of what to make of this situation. Ravenkit was just a kit after all, how could he predict a murder?

Ravenkit sensed that they didn't believe him. "You have to believe me! She's gonna kill Icepaw tonight! I'm not pulling your tails." He looked up at them with pleading eyes. The apprentices could tell that he honestly believed what he was telling them. "Please will you help me?" Ravenkit mewed.

Neither of them could answer. They had no idea what they should do. It would be crazy to trust the word of a kit but…

That was the problem. The kit believed what he was saying and that made it even more convincing. They both knew Redfeather, though, and neither could imagine her doing something like that without a reason. They certainly had a dilemma on their paws.

"What do we do?" Canyonpaw whispered to Hawkpaw. "We can't believe this, but what if he decides to go search for Redfeather? What if he gets eaten by a snake? Or a jungle rat?" Hawkpaw could only shake her head.

"Should we tell Hiddenfall?" She suggested.

"I don't think this kit'll let us get that far," replied Canyonpaw.

"I guess you got a point there," Hawkpaw meowed. "We have no choice but to humor him, then." Canyonpaw nodded and sighed.

"Alright, we'll help you find her," Canyonpaw told Ravenkit. "But you can't tell anyone that we took you out of the camp." Ravenkit nodded, his eyes solemn and hopeful.

"Let's go then!" Ravenkit squeaked, bouncing eagerly.

Canyonpaw sighed again and they were off. With Ravenkit in between them, the two apprentices headed toward the bramble tunnel that lead out of the camp, trying to look inconspicuous. They were lucky there were no warriors watching the camp entrance, for they were far from inconspicuous. But they made it without detection.

Once outside, Ravenkit paused and sniffed the air, trying to pick up the scent of Redfeather. His eyes lit up as he caught a whiff of her scent. He trotted off, glancing behind him to check that the apprentices were following. Canyonpaw rolled his eyes and padded after him. Hawkpaw followed him.

They wandered through the territory, Ravenkit leading and the apprentices keeping an eye out for warriors. It would be disastrous if they were caught.

"Why, exactly are we doing this again?" Canyonpaw asked, glaring at Hawkpaw.

"Because," she hissed back, "he would've gone with or without us and don't you think he's a lot safer with us here? You're the one who suggested we follow him in the first place."

Canyonpaw looked down at his paws, slightly embarrassed. She had a point. It had been him who had decided on this ridiculous escapade and he decided that he would see it through and deal with the consequences later. He opened his mouth to speak but Ravenkit cut him off, his meow brimming with excitement, and a little fear. "It's stronger! She's nearby, come on!"

He darted off into the undergrowth, leaving his companions to stumble through after him. Canyonpaw cursed as his fur snagged on some thorns and he ripped it free, grimacing as some of it tore lose. What he saw as he fought his way out of the bushes pushed all thoughts of his pain out of his mind. His blood ran cold as he took in the scene.

From the edge of the glade, they could see Redfeather. She was dragging a white bundle through the grass and it squirmed and kicked, trying to get free from her deadly grip. "Icepaw!" whispered Hawkpaw. Icepaw was desperately trying to escape, her paws tearing up bunches of grass and leaving gouges in the dirt. "What are we going to do?"

Hawkpaw glanced at Ravenkit. The black kit's eyes were wide and brimming with horror and fear. He was trembling slightly. His dream flashed through his head and it left him petrified, unable to think. "Ravenkit, what's happened to her? Why is Redfeather doing this?" Hawkpaw asked softly. "Ravenkit, did you know this was going to happen?"

All he could do was nod his head, his eyes staying fixed on the scene unfolding before him. Redfeather and dropped Icepaw at the edge of the pit and now the apprentice was begging for her life as she cowered mere mouse-tails from certain death. Redfeather sat, idly cleaning her paw with long strokes of her rough tongue, making the ginger fur shimmer. When she was done, she let her paw rest on the ground and locked eyes with Icepaw.

"Silly little kitty," she cooed. "The fun has only just begun!" Redfeather jumped to her paws and padded up next to Icepaw. She sat, staring over the edge, as if mesmerized by something in the pit. "Do you know how to fly, my little playmate?" She looked up, her eyes boring into Icepaw's.

"What? N-No cat can fly," stammered Icepaw. Confusion clouded her pink gaze. She shrank away as Redfeather leaned closer. She nearly gagged at the pungent stench of her breath as she spoke.

"Do not fret, playmate. I can teach you." Redfeather lunged, her teeth sinking into Icepaw's fur, drawing blood. The apprentice screeched as Redfeather hoisted her with near-impossible strength and flung her over the edge, sending her flying toward her grisly end.

"No!" Canyonpaw screeched, his claws sending dirt flying as he rushed toward Redfeather. Fury lit his emerald gaze, seeming to set them alight with the cold fire of vengeance. Redfeather whipped around to confront him, giddy at the thought of a second playmate. She crouched, readying herself for a brawl.

"Stop, Canyonpaw! She'll kill you!" Hawkpaw yowled. She chased after him, hoping to stop him before he could do anything he'd regret. They both stopped short as a terrifying howl split the air. Icepaw had landed, and no power on the planet could save her now.

The howl partially shocked Ravenkit out of his stupor. The yowls of his Clanmates seemed muted as he slowly crept forward, toward the edge of the pit. He peeked over the edge and whimpered. Impaled on the stakes he saw Icepaw. She was moaning weakly and had stopped struggling. She didn't have much time left. Ravenkit nearly wretched as he examined her.

One spike had pierced her eye, ripping the eyeball from the socket and leaving it stuck near the top, leaving nothing but a bloody hole behind. Another had gone through her gut, and another through her chest. Her limbs rested limply at her sides. Blood welled from the holes in her body, running in rivulets down her delicate white fur, staining it red. Her remaining pink eye glistened with pain.

Unable to stand it any longer, Ravenkit tore his gaze away. He was trembling violently now and he couldn't seem to calm his racing heart or stop the sobs that escaped his lips. He heard screeches looked up to see Canyonpaw and Hawkpaw locked in a heated battle with Redfeather. She giggled as she sidestepped an attack from Canyonpaw and she whirled around in a blur of ginger to take a swipe at Hawkpaw. The hungry gleam had returned to her eyes.

It didn't take her long to catch a glimpse of Ravenkit. Her eyes lit up and she took a flying leap over Canyonpaw, landing with unmatched grace, before trotting over to the kit. She plopped down in front of him, stooping until she was at his eye level.

"Well lookey what we have here. A super tiny playmate!" Ravenkit shied away from the demonic visage of his aunt and cowered. His fear had left him paralyzed and completely at her mercy. "Tell me, can you fly?"

Ravenkit's eyes widened as she lunged, her shadow blotting out everything as her sharp teeth sank into his scruff. He screeched in terror. "Canyonpaw, Hawkpaw, help me!" he cried, desperately hoping for a rescue. He knew there was little hope, though, and he wriggled violently in Redfeather's grip, struggling to be free of this nightmare.

"She's got Ravenkit!" gasped Hawkpaw. "Canyonpaw, we have to do something or she'll kill him."

"I know, I know!" Canyonpaw hissed, his eyes narrowed as he tried to think up a plan. "I think I can distract her long enough for you to get help. But you need to hurry."

"What? No! What if you get hurt?" Hawkpaw stared at him with worried, fear-filled eyes.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Now go! Before it's too late!" Reluctantly, Hawkpaw nodded and spun around, tearing across the clearing and into the trees. Canyonpaw watched her until her tail disappeared into the undergrowth before turning and facing Redfeather.

She had Ravenkit in her jaws and was tossing him into the air, playing some sick game. The tiny kit yowled in fear as he soared through the air, before plummeting back to the earth. Before he could hit the ground, Redfeather snatched him out of the air before launching him again. She was clearly enjoying the torment and the sound of her laughter cracked the air like a whip.

"Hey!" Canyonpaw shouted. Redfeather stopped and turned to look at him, Ravenkit swinging from her jaws. "Why don't you come play with me? Surely a bigger playmate is more fun." He crouched, his tail swaying from side to side above him.

Gently, almost tenderly it seemed, Redfeather set her nephew on the ground at her paws. "Of course you are, you silly! But no one wants to play with me," she pouted. "That is why I have to make them. I have to force the silly kitties to play my games."

"I'll play with you," Canyonpaw said, "But you'll have to catch me first!" He took off into the trees, glancing behind him to make sure Redfeather was following.

"Stay here my tiny plaything. I will be back soon!" Redfeather took off in pursuit of the young tom, secretly enjoying this new twist in the game. She pelted for the nearest tree and scaled it, taking to the trees. She hopped from branch to branch, keeping just behind Canyonpaw. The apprentice thought she was still pursuing him on the forest floor and never once thought to check the dense foliage overhead. It would prove to be a near-fatal mistake.

After a few minutes of giving chase, Redfeather closed the gap between them, expertly navigating the treetops at a near-sprint. Leaves whizzed past her face, stirring the fur on her cheeks. She paid them no mind; all her attention was on the cat below. Once she pulled even with her prey on the ground, she slipped between the branches and fell to the ground. Her momentum carried her forward and she landed squarely on Canyonpaw's back.

He screeched in surprise and went sprawling. Redfeather rolled with him, her teeth and claws hooked firmly into his dark fur. He hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of his lungs and leaving him disoriented. He tried to get his bearings as he struggled against Redfeather's weight.

To his surprise, the weight on his back vanished. Groggily, he sat up… and found himself staring straight into the crazed eyes of Redfeather. Canyonpaw started.

Redfeather's hideous grin was back. "Thought you could outrace me, did you, kitty?" She stepped closer, sniffing at him. "Well, this kitty has a few tricks, yes she does! No one can outrun me, I know this forest and all its secrets." She circled him, giggling. "Now will you play with me?" She sat, wrapping her tail neatly around her paws and cocking her head.

Canyonpaw was frozen with fear. How was he going to get out of this? He could start yowling his head off and hope someone heard him. Maybe he could try running again, or he could accept that he had failed and face death with dignity. He was saved from making the decision as the leaf canopy overhead rustled and a cat dropped down, his silver pelt catching the dappled light.

"Canyonpaw, Redfeather! I heard screeching, is everything alright?" asked the silver tom. He examined the two, noticing something was wrong. Canyonpaw was cowering in fear and Redfeather…Something just seemed off about her. His eyes narrowed in concern. "Redfeather, are you okay?"

She laughed at this, sending a shiver running down the newcomer's spine and making his fur stand on end. "Why, as a matter of fact, dear Screechfoot, I most definitely am not." The crazed glint had returned to her eyes and her fascination in Canyonpaw has dissipated. She didn't care about him; she wanted to play with Screechfoot.

Screechfoot laid his ears back and cast a glance at Canyonpaw. The apprentice had recovered his composure and was now watching Redfeather warily. "What's happened to her?" Screechfoot asked. Canyonpaw could only shake his head.

"Oh, come now, kitties. I am right here, so you do not have to talk like I am not," Redfeather cut in. There was that smile again. Another shiver ran down Screechfoot's spine. He didn't like where this was going. "Come on! You said you would play!" she whined, locking eyes with Canyonpaw.

He saw in her eyes that if they didn't go, she wouldn't be letting them leave there alive. Hesitantly, he dipped his head. Redfeather gave a happy little bounce and skipped off into the trees, leaving the two toms to follow. Fearfully, they glanced at each other.

They returned to the clearing, not speaking for the length of the walk. An ominous air had descended upon them, smothering them as they turned over plan after plan in their heads. When they arrived, Redfeather was nowhere to be seen. They saw Hawkpaw sitting by the edge of the stake pit with Ravenkit, holding him tight. She whispered soothing words in his ear, attempting to calm him down.

Cautiously, they crossed the clearing. Hawkpaw looked up as they approached, her body tense. She relaxed as she recognized the two of them.

"Where is she?" Hawkpaw whispered, her eyes darting around the clearing.

"We don't know. We lost her on the way back," Canyonpaw replied.

Screechfoot turned and faced the forest where they had come from. Carefully, he scanned the undergrowth and the tree canopy, hoping for a glimpse of that familiar dark ginger fur or those amber eyes. Slowly, he turned in a circle, making sure to scan every inch of the surrounding area. He found nothing but swaying grass and sturdy trees. He tried to listen for footsteps or rustling leaves, but all he heard was the distant rumble of the river.

The cats huddled together, the apprentices and Screechfoot surrounding Ravenkit and watching the space around them. What felt like hours passed as they crouched there, paranoia causing them to jump at every sound. Occasionally, Redfeather's laughter drifted on the wind, echoing eerily in their ears. Other times, one of them would swear they saw a flash of ginger in the trees or a glint of amber in the bushes. She was toying with them.

The sun began to dip behind the trees when Redfeather finally made her move. The others were growing weary and it made them careless and inattentive. Quietly, she wove her way through the grass, drawing closer to the group with every pawstep. Not one of them noticed her as she worked her way to the edge of the pit. Closest to her was Canyonpaw and she lunged at him, not making a sound.

He didn't know what hit him until he was on his back and teeth sank into his hind leg. "Help!" he screeched, thrashing wildly. He lashed out with his back foot, catching Redfeather on the cheek. She sank her teeth in deeper and drug him toward the pit, a murderous glint in her eye. "No! Please, Redfeather, stop!" His pleas didn't faze her as she yanked on his hind paw.

"Redfeather! Stop, or I will hurt you," growled Screechfoot. Up until now, he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, this was some cruel joke set up to mess with him. Now, seeing Redfeather attack a Clanmate – an apprentice no less – left no doubt at all about her intentions. She was bent on murder, and nothing would stop her.

Redfeather only glanced at him briefly before continuing her work, acting as if the others weren't there. Canyonpaw was still thrashing and Redfeather lashed at his flanks to keep him under control. By now, he was very nearly dangling over the edge of the pit.

The adrenaline was rising in Screechfoot, fueling his fear and clearing his mind. He knew what he had to do, so he lunged, bowling Redfeather over. Hawkpaw darted over to where Canyonpaw lay. "Are you okay?" she gasped.

"I-I'm not sure. I think I might've heard something crack." Canyonpaw winced and lapped at the blood-soaked fur around the wound. The blood didn't show any signs of letting up any time soon. Hawkpaw began searching the area for cobwebs, keeping a close eye on the screeching bundle of silver and ginger fur.

As she searched, Screechfoot fought for his life. Redfeather was a powerful and clever warrior, even in her deranged state and was by far the most formidable fighter in the Clan. Screechfoot knew he probably wouldn't survive this fight; he could only hold her off and try to wear her down as much as he could.

He rose onto his hid paws, lashing out at Redfeather before coming down, aiming to slam down on her spine. Quick as a snake, Redfeather dodged his blows and slid under him, throwing him off balance and sending him crashing down. She was on him as soon as he hit the ground, clawing and biting at his exposed stomach and throat.

He was weakening. If he didn't do something fast, he was as good as dead. Rolling over, he reared again, catching Redfeather by surprise and knocking her backward. He landed on top of her this time as he came down, clawing with his back paws at her belly. He snapped at her throat as she threw her paws up to defend herself.

She hissed as she realized he had her pinned. She couldn't move without exposing her throat and risking getting it ripped out. She tried to wriggle out of his grip but he held firm, baring his teeth. "Why are you doing this, Redfeather? Why would you dare harm your own Clanmates?" he hissed, his eyes sad.

"Because," she whispered, "I can." Her eyes darkened. Screechfoot felt her tense underneath him and it made him uneasy. Something wasn't right here. Suddenly, Redfeather snapped at him, sinking her claws into his throat and relishing the feeling of his hot blood coursing over her tongue. Stunned, he lashed out, his claws catching in her flesh. He convulsed, gasping for breath as blood dripped down his chest.

Redfeather ripped herself free of his claws and staggered back, her hungry eyes locked on him as he thrashed in the reddening grass. She heard Hawkpaw cry out as he stopped moving and his eyes clouded over, seeing no more. Her own vision was growing dark and she could feel blood trickling down her fur. Her legs buckled under her and she fell to the ground, her mind clearing as she sank.

The murderous rage left her and her eyes grew sad. She caught a glimpse of Ravenkit, his eyes wide with horror and his black fur on end. She tried to speak, tried to form the words to tell him how sorry she was and how she was forced to do this, that it wasn't her fault, that there was no need to be scared and she would be back. It came out as a dry croak.

Darkness overwhelmed her vision and plunging her headfirst into the familiar world of death. She rose from her body, greeting death as an old friend as warriors flooded the clearing, summoned by Hawkpaw's cry. Then, she was gone.

The next day, they held vigil for the fallen warriors. A shell-shocked Ravenkit huddled next to his mother, his fur slick with the heavy rain that fell all around them. Rainfur wrapped her tail around him and pulled him close, wrapping him in her comforting embrace.

The bodies of Redfeather and Screechfoot lay stretched out in the middle of the clearing, smelling of rosemary and death. Canyonpaw and Hawkpaw had been to shaken up to talk and everyone assumed they were killed by the same twisted cat who had killed Icepaw and the others.

When they were finally able to tell their story, the cats of HiddenClan were stunned. No one could quite believe that stern, loyal Redfeather had murdered her own Clanmates. It tore into everything they knew to be true and shook them to their cores.

After the vigil, Screechfoot was buried and Redfeather was dragged off into the woods just outside the territory and left aboveground to rot, as was the custom for traitors.

A few days after the vigil, Ravenkit was sitting alone in a corner of the camp. He would never quite recover from his traumatizing brush with death and the death of his beloved aunt, and he spent most of his time alone, grieving. He hadn't eaten in a couple of days, but he didn't care. He was locked in his own private bubble of trauma and despair.

That was, until he heard someone sit down beside him. He didn't even bother looking up; it was probably just someone coming to offer their sympathies yet again. It was only when they spoke that he moved.

"Hello, my little warrior," said Redfeather, "Beautiful day, is it not?"

Ravenkit jumped up in shock. Sitting before him, in the flesh, was Redfeather. "H-H-H-But y-you died! I saw you!" He backed away, his ears laid back and his eyes wide.

Redfeather started. She hadn't expected him to remember. She wondered how this was possible when it dawned on her. "No…It cannot be…Oh, my poor little warrior, I am so sorry."

"Wh-What's going on? Why isn't anyone wondering how a dead cat is sitting in the middle of their camp?" Ravenkit stumbled and fell back onto his haunches, shivering in fear. Slowly, Redfeather moved closer to him.

"Oh, my little Ravenkit, you seem to have inherited the curse."

"What curse?" Even though he was scared out of his wits, he was curious.

"Cats in our bloodline sometimes inherit it. Those with it are immortal; they cannot die," Redfeather meowed sadly, "But immortality comes with a price. It is different for every cat; my price is uncontrollable bloodlust. I must kill and no matter how hard I try, I can never seem to stop it." A pained look settled on her face. It hurt to look back at all the cats, all the lives she'd taken. She had hoped she would be the last.

"Why don't they remember?" Ravenkit asked.

"I do not know. Every time I come back, it seems as if the events leading to my death have been forgotten or altered. I am not sure how that is possible, but it is. Only those with the curse remember."

"So…you won't try to kill me again?"

"No, my little warrior. I would never harm you if I could help it." She smiled. It was a warm smile, nothing like the deranged grin she wore during the bloodlust. "I know this is hard to process, but remember, I will always be here for you."

Ravenkit thought for a moment before answering. "Really?"

"Really." Ravenkit took a cautious step forward. When Redfeather didn't react, he ran over and buried himself in her fur.

"Promise you'll never leave me again."

Redfeather looked down at him tenderly. "Of course," she said softly.

They sat together and watched as the sun dipped beneath the trees. But unbeknownst to Ravenkit, Redfeather wasn't watching the setting sun, she was watching her Clanmates, a murderous glint in her eyes.

A/N: There you have it! I's sorry this wasn't new content. The old version of this just bugged me and I felt as if I had to rewrite it and do it justice. Did I make it better? Tell me in a review! Oh, and ignore anything I say about what I will be doing with the rewrites and new chapters. I am obviously not the most reliable resource in the world. Which is ironic 'cause I write this stuff. Oh, and one more thing, should I keep the old version up as well as this or replace it?

Anywho, Creek out. See you next chapter!