Dead Rose

Chapter 10: Hosting Fire

Whitefire curled up to try and rid some of her cold. The warriors den was colder than usual today, so everyone had to huddle up and snuggle for warmth. Whitefire had tried to squeeze into the pile, but everyone's bodies had tensed up. Whitefire just gave up the struggle and curled up on her own. Whitefire knew she'd never sleep, even if it wasn't cold. A nagging thought was clouding her mind.

She hadn't seen Denver in days.

Normally this would please her, but now it shadowed a hideous concern; considering the fact that the last time they had spoken it was on annoyed terms. Whitefire was trying to shove her sinking feeling that Denver had done something regarding Jaypaw. Just stop thinking about it, Whitefire told herself, trying to calm her sinking anxiety. Jaypaws probably fine. Hopefully Denvers just doing something else.

Whitefire shut her eyes and tried not to think. It lasted about twenty seconds before she swore and got to her paws. To hell with it. If I'm gonna be ice cold and awake I might as well move around. She picked her way through the cats and out into the open, gritting her teeth as she realized it was much colder without all the cats breathing in a small space. She made her way over to the exit, not looking to see if anyone saw her leave at this time of night. No one cares anyway. Whitefire pushed her way out of the camp and into the dark forest. The night was dark tonight, the moon just a thin claw in the sky. Whitefire padded through the forest, paws growing numb against the icy dirt floor. She was just about to turn back and take her chances in the warriors den again, but stopped when she felt a pair of eyes on her pelt. She turned around slowly, bracing herself for the worst. She jumped in surprise when she realized it was a ratty old tom cat.

"W-who are you?" Whitefire stammered, taking into account the way the tom looked. Moldy dried scabs covered his spine, and one back leg was jaunted out of place. Whitefire knew it had to be broken, but she didn't understand how the cat wasn't lying down calling for help. He smiled at her, yellow rotten teeth showing in the dim light. Some teeth were snapped off, broken from the rot. His eyelids were saggy, the under part of his eyes were black like his lips. And he smelled like death. Whitefire back up, knowing what was going on at once.

"Denver, where did you find that body?" she asked, voice quivering. She backed up even more. Whitefire was more scared of Denver when he was in a body, he wasn't quite as intimidating when he was just a spirit.

"I'm not Denver, you quivering idiot," the cat said, jaw flapping around in a sickening way when he talked. He bit his lolling tongue as he finished his sentence, and he spat the blood in annoyance. "I was just coming over here to ask you where he was."

"You're not… Denver," Whitefire finished the sentence in such relief she almost needed to lie down. She realized the second the spirit/host talked, his accent was heavy and he didn't have the arrogant tone Denver had. Whitefire knew who he was; recognizing him as one of Denver's followers named Lores that always followed him around.

"No, I'm not," Lores said, rolling his eyes. They almost rolled into the back of his skull and Whitefire struggled not to vomit.

"Why are you in that body?" Whitefire asked, swaying a bit as the deceased smell nearly knocked her over.

"I found it on the side of the river," Lores said simply. "Even though it's old and frail, I didn't see the point of letting it go to waste. It'll do until I find something more permanent."

"Your back leg is all mangled up," Whitefire pointed out.

"Yeah I know. Probably happened when the cat went over the falls," Lores said dimly. "He's getting more rotten and dead by the hour though, so I don't think I'm gonna be able to get much more out of him. That's the problem with hosting corpses."

"Why don't you just let him rest in peace?" Whitefire snapped, getting very angry at the disrespect Lores was showing for the dead cat. "I mean for crying out loud I'm sure his death wish wasn't to have you parading his dead body all over the forest."

"Give it a rest, you freaking psycho," Lores snapped. "You shouldn't even be using that kind of sass with me anyway. You're lucky it was me you talked back to, Denver wouldn't have it, no sir, he wouldn't."

Whitefire rolled her eyes and didn't reply. Lores stood there awkwardly for a minute, as if he didn't really know what to do next. Whitefire watched him try to sit down for a solid five minutes, before crunching down on his bad leg. It was a sickening sound, bones cracking and shattering in the dead body. Lores sighed and got up. His leg now hung limp and forever useless.

"Wait, where did you say you found that body?" Whitefire asked suddenly, finally registering in her mind what Lores has said earlier. "You said he fell down the falls?"

"Yeah, four of them did," Lores said simply. "One of them so happened to be the body I was hosting prior to this dead one."

"Denver was telling me about this," Whitefire whispered, trying to piece it all together.

"I had the best host ever," Lores said, completely ignoring Whitefire. "Young, male, healthy. Then that stupid Violet cat had to grab me and splatter my body all over the rocks."

"What happened to the others?" Whitefire asked.

"Well, this one obviously died," Lores rolled his eyes and pointed to himself. "And the Violet she-cat."

"Everyone died?" Whitefire cried in disbelief. "And Denver told me you shoved them all off into the river in the first place?"

"Hey, don't get mad at me," Lores hissed. "Orders are orders."

"Who's orders?!" Whitefire cried, getting very confused. "Denver didn't tell you to do it!"

There was a long silence, Whitefire stared at Lores with anger and confusion.

"I thought it was Denver, who told me and the others to push them," Lores said so quietly Whitefire had to lean forward to hear. "He was in a host body, and he was acting just like him," he continued. "He told me he was Denver so what was I supposed to do? Ask him to leave his host to prove it?"

"So if it wasn't Denver, who was it?" Whitefire asked.

"I don't know," Lores replied.

"So… all the cats? They all died?" Whitefire asked.

"Well…" Lores voice trailed off for a moment. "All except one. Little black cat, made it out of the falls with nothing but a headache. Lucky thing. I spoke to him; apparently the body I'm hosting was a good friend of his."

"Oh," was all Whitefire could say. "So… what were your plans with this body? Why are you in my clan?"

"I was gonna dump it when I found a new one," Lore shrugged. "I was hoping someone would be straying around. Like you, for instance."

"Ha," Whitefire forced a laugh, backing up slightly once again. "You're not gonna take my body, are you? No, you're not gonna do that."

"Why not?" Lores took a step towards her. "In the time we've been talking I've felt myself decompose even more. Not taking your body would be just silly when it's presented to me like this."

"Don't," Whitefire warned him. "Denver would be angry at you."

"Oh, no one's ever dared try to host Denvers little girlfriends body before," Lores smiled and narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to what Whitefire recognized as the start of the hosting process. "But I can since he's way on the other side of the forest. Leaving you free to be my host."

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Whitefire screamed, stumbled backwards, trying to get a grip on her paws. She clawed desperately in her attempts to escape, but Lores had already started. His neck stretched a sickening length, and his mouth opened to nearly cover half his face. He started to scream, and Whitefire could feel a hideous force clamp around her body.

"NO! DON'T!" Whitefire screamed as the invisible spirit started to seep into her skin. She realized there was no way out, so she went limp. But as quick as it had come, the pushing stopped. Whitefire blinked open an eye to see what was going on. What she saw startled her greatly. Denver had appeared, and was shredding Lores host body from throat to tail. Lores choked and gargled his own blood, but at last he fell limp, forever dead and useless as a host. Lores spirit drifted above, and he spat at Denver.

"What was that for?" Lores hissed. "I was just about to use her as my new host body."

"She's my host body, you blithering idiot," Denver hissed so violently froth began to form at the corners of his mouth. Whitefire had never seen him so angry in her whole life.

"Yeah, well, I saw her stumbling around the forest and it seemed like an invitation," Lores growled. "Maybe you should start keeping a better eye on her."

"I plan to," Denver opened his mouth and stretched out his neck. Lores gave a satisfying nod and vanished. Whitefire shut her eyes and admitted defeat. She waited tensely for Denver to possess her. But after a few seconds ticked by, Whitefire was confused. She opened her eyes into slits, shocked to see Denvers neck back to normal and his mouth shut. He was hunched over, looking at her with a look she had never seen in his eyes before.

"Why aren't you… aren't you going to host me?" Whitefire asked quietly. Denver sighed and slowly walked towards her. For some reason, Whitefire didn't feel the need to back up. Denver sat beside her, his spirit just slightly colder than her fur. There was plenty of room, but he pressed up against her anyway.

"You're tired," he murmured. "You should go to sleep."

Whitefire opened her mouth in disbelief.

"Go on," Denver patted the dirt floor. "Lie down."

Whitefire gently rested her body on the ground, and curled up with her tail over her nose. Denver laid down beside her and rested his front paw on her back. He gently stroked her fur, and Whitefire could feel his breath on her ear. Whitefire knew she should feel terrified, like she always did, that he would do something awful. But tonight she wasn't scared, she shut her eyes.

And even though Denver was colder than the night air, she was asleep in seconds.