"Come on, Leafpaw," I heard Sandpaw whisper frantically. "We'll be caught!"
I groaned. "I'm not sure that that's necessarily a bad thing."
Moonlight shone through cracks in the bramble walls, and as I heard the sound of footsteps come up closer and closer, I managed to pull myself off the dusty ground and peer out as a black-and-gray shape came up before me. "Leafpaw! Hurry up!"
I glanced back at my nest one last wistful time, but argued and more and followed as Sandpaw and Emberpaw led the way towards the now pitch-dark forest.
"This is so cool!" Sandpaw's amber eyes shone. "I feel all the power of the night. I could stay here forever!"
Emberpaw didn't say anything, but I could tell that he couldn't agree more. I shivered against the night cold. Or was it the cold? "Can we please go back now? I'm freezing," I chided with chattering teeth. "It's getting creepy out here."
Sandpaw's nose wrinkled. "Are you scared?"
I closed my mouth, partly because I didn't know what to say, partly because I knew my voice was gonna come out shrill and squeaky, and just instead shrugged the best I could. The pine trees seemed to close in around us, but even as the owls began to move in, I kept my trapdoor shut. Emberpaw was beginning to shiver too, but I could tell that he didn't want to show it. His legs were shaking a little, his teeth was beginning to chatter, but he was determined to look brave. I could tell. "Look, we're at the border now," he announced, stepping over the roots of a dead tree.
There was a sudden cold feeling as it ran down my spine. "What are you talking about? I can't smell anything in this Starclan-forsaken place."
Sandpaw frowned. "I think she's right, Emberpaw. Look. We're still in the middle of the forest." She turned. "Okay, let's go home now. It's really cold now."
"Wait!"
They both stared at me. "We're going home. What do you want?"
I couldn't help but stare at them. My legs shook. "What's that on your pelt?"
Sandpaw glanced at her ginger fur nervously. "Do I have a bur? I worked so hard on cleaning it this morning."
I shook my head dismissively. "No. There's red stuff on there. And... Long, white things. I'll show you... Never mind. It disappeared." I squinted my eyes to try to find them again, but they were really gone. "Let's just... Go, then."
But even as I said the words, something told me this was only the beginning.
"Are we nearly there yet?" Emberpaw complained. His gray pelt blended in with the call of midnight. "I feel like we've been walking forever."
Neither of us answered, each lost in thoughts, which seemed relevant, since we were pretty much lost ourselves. I pressed my head closer to Sandpaw to protect myself from the cold. "I'm sure we'll get there soon enough- OW!"
My head spun, and the next thing I knew I was lying on what seemed to be rough patches of sand. I rubbed my eyes as my bones ached. "What happened?"
Sandpaw sighed. "Can you get anywhere without falling into a hole?"
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Sorry!" I tried to use my claws to bring myself up, but the cliff was just too steep. "I'll try to keep walking and see if that gets me anywhere. I think this is a tunnel."
No answer. I looked up. "Hello?"
I screamed.
"What is it with you, Leafpaw?" Sandpaw pattered her paws on the ground impatiently, and the vision disappeared. I shook my worries off. "Sorry, just me hallucinating again."
But even as I said it, I could still see the shadow of the... monster I just saw. Like a cat, but not a cat; its mouth was crooked, its nose was wrinkled up and twisted, its legs were too long for any cat; and its eyes, those eyes, soulless, entirely black, no anything in them. Like the eyes of an ant. I shivered. "Okay, I'll try to-"
Those were the last words I spoke before it came again. That same vision.
But this time, it was real. The thick tang of blood came up before me, and as I gasped for air in a world clotted with blood, I saw the last thing I'll ever see; those black eyes, empty like a void, sucking my soul out piece by piece.
The metallic scent of blood covered me, and I opened my mouth in a "o" of horror as the tide of crimson washed over me.
The next day, a team of archaeologists were digging somewhere near the wilderness of Yellowstone when three blocks of ice washed up on the shore of a river.
"Rachelle, come look at this," one of them muttered nervously. Hands shaking, he began examining the pieces: all had strange shapes inside them, with what looked like... He frowned. Cats. There were cats in them. Covered with blood, and all of them had strange "o" shaped mouths, as if they were frightened... Rachelle walked up besides him and kneeled down besides the blocks. "Fresh, it seems, too. What do you think, Jake?"
Jake shrugged. "Strange. The blood doesn't seem to be theirs... Put them gently away. We're investigating this later."
But what they didn't know was that they were still alive; conscious and aware. And one day, they will break out. With blank eyes like the corners of the night, legs as long as Twoleg's forearm, and a wrinkled nose. One day, they will be free.
And find their next victims.
