2. Sinking
He crept down into the gloom. By now, he was accustomed to the scent of decay that used to make him gag at the scent of rotten, dead things. He descended farther down in the gates of Hell. His heart was frantically beating against his tight chest. The solid, rough-hewn stone walls lined both ends of the corridor, sealing the only entrance and exit as a straight shot up the cavernous tunnels.
His icy blue eyes twinkling like stardust and brushed away the trepidation that clung to his pelt like rainwater. "We're nearly there," he spoke in a hushed tone. His lop-sided gait slowed the group down deliberately as if stalling for time.
"You said that that before and yet we're still not a mouse-tail closer to where we should be." A growl erupted from a tabby on his far left.
Hawkstep was her name with her blue eyes narrowing to slits. She didn't trust this tom one bit. From the moment she set her eyes on his patchy white pelt. Out of all of them she didn't stare at him with any difference from his mangled foreleg and horribly scarred muzzle and shredded ears.
Frost didn't flinch away from her piercing blue gaze but in the back of his mind he could feel the thin layer of forlorn coaxing along. If it wasn't sympathy that was shoved down his throat it was anger or disgust. His jaws clenched as he let a crooked smile play on his features.
"S'alright," he gave into his slurring speech. "To be honest, I didn't expect us to get this far to begin with. You're making far better progress than if I wasn't your guide in this rotten place." He shot the she-cat a glare that seemed to pierce her very soul and she gave a soft snort looking elsewhere.
Frost sighed softly wanting to get this journey over and done with. I should have left them for Lash to sink his teeth into like he did me. His undamaged black paw rubbed along his clawed throat, feeling every scar, every old gash that painted his mostly furless neck, pink.
I wouldn't have done no better saving their sorry pelts. He thought with bitterness seeping into his heart.
He chewed on his tongue before his trace of thought dissolved. He was propelled—faster than he would have liked—forward by someone from behind. A quiet apology was heard and in response, he twitched his tattered ear. He glanced up at the flurry gray shape that plastered his right side, keeping in pace with another dark tabby. His yellow-green eyes sparked with wonder and Frost could almost feel himself recoil at the drunken, starry-eyed look of fascination.
The white tom was much, much younger than the cat on his other side. He was practically dwarfed by the sheer size of the gray tom. He gave an awkward dip of his head and moved along the damp concrete almost feeling the burn of his eyes on him. His pelt prickled with unease.
Dimly, could he make out the mound of concrete and collected piles of dirt and broken branches? Frost traced his eyes over the 'throne' of disposable garbage that that demon horded himself in. How revolting. He thought to himself again, searching for the odd-furred tom that traded a cat's soul for one desire of any sort. His dark paw crushed a rat's skull and any other old bones that sunk into the mucky depths.
He wrinkled his nose caught of whiff of his scent and at the corners of his eye could his spot the vulgarity of pelt and bulging eyes. The pair of stormy grey eyes blinked back at him and he retreated back as the other cat came forth. Paws like crowfeet and claws as sharp as talons.
The demon watched the group with little to no interest at all. His eyes didn't take long to find Frost again as he was among the all whom had an entirely white pelt. No matter how ragged and unkempt it might be. He was a monstrous sight to behold. Nostrils flaring with any given moment and muscles rippled under the thin pelt of a being not of this world. His eyes were as sharp as flint. He inclined his head back, observing the newcomers before giving way to his booming voice.
"Welcome," his tongue struck out and over his silver-tinged muzzle as if licking the last remains of prey from his lips, "to my humble abode."
Someone at the tail end of Frost shuddered at how the tom—the demon—whatever he referred himself, as slithered closer, like a snake hiding in tall grass stalks. Frost was unafraid yet wary of this strange creature. He held no name in particular but regarded himself as 'devil,' 'ogre,' or in better words for cats, 'savage.'
The white tom with the single black paw took a pawstep forward. "Greetings, Savage," he addressed the beastly behemoth with polite courtesy. "I'm sure you're faring well with the sewage and all?"
The demon tilted his head back, mulling over said words. "I couldn't complain will all the waste and rot those humans plunder day in and day out. Life isn't better here than out there but perhaps that's my way of seeing things, eh?" His devilish grin sent icy claws on uncertainty down on the white tom's pelt. He shook himself, puffing out his chest and giving a curt yet firm nod of his head.
"You always find a way around them. City life ain't purdy." His tongue flickered over his teeth as he let his accent drop in and pick up as his pleased.
The devil cat's tail twitched. Not wanting to stretch their stay any longer than he had to Frost tail swished around the other tag-along strangers.
"These are forest and mountain cats, Savage. They want to bargain with you and seek what you have to offer, a wish of any kind." He chuckled. "As if they would be need any of it from here."
His brief deposition of humor fell when a black tom shouldered past him. Frost hissed as the tom jostle one of scars that his little group left for him if he didn't cooperate. More reminders like that were to be expected, if things didn't go according to plan. Frost bit back a retort as Blackpelt eyed the demon with no tolerance at all. Savage didn't seem to notice let alone care and flicked his ear at the black tom.
Now is not the time to boost your selfish ego, wild cat! He wanted to snap but thought better of it. Thinking of the consequences he would face from both parties the rogue stayed where he did not want to venture out on his imminent doom.
He settled with sitting on his haunches and watched the seen foretell itself. He, for one, was no concern to any cat present with him. He was a broken tom, inside and out. No city boss would want him and he couldn't survive alone for too long without getting snatched up by some wild thing roaming the city outskirts.
The day the dog ruined his body also ruined his chances to survive on his own.
"An exchange you say?" Savage licked his lips greedily, feeling him become anticipated for the next drawl of words. The black tom that stood before him was unnerved and kept and aura of cool and collective thoughts.
"Whatever for, the battle should have taught all of you a lesson about meddling with things that never truly belonged to you."
Blackpelt's jaw clenched. "Yes, you're right to point that out but we aren't the ones to give up so easily. In exchange for the set of lives, will you do as I have requested?"
Savage, the demon-disguised-cat had no definite name nor did he uphold to promises well. That much was true. His hideous structure shifted letting the words, sentences, and promises of newer, fresh lives sink into his body. He was quiet for several passing heartbeats until he opened his eyes that blazed like storms and wildfire. He drew himself up as his stain-colored fangs bore at Blackpelt and the cats behind them bristled preparing to run or spring.
Confusion fleeted over Frost's face as to whatever deal Blackpelt had made with the devil.
"Would I?" Savage hissed smoke fueled from his nose and mouth smelling of cinched fur on fire-lit wood. Dark ash and embers peeled away from the shadows of the throne, killing away the fear-scent and drawing out the astonished wonder and tribulation of what was happening.
"Let it be known, that I take as much as I please but lives alone will not satisfy me." The multitude of carnage, blood and the very image of death and destruction itself coated the stones, sewage water and tunnels. The demon jumped above them all, disappearing into the night of nights leaving the lingering scent of sulfur and hot air.
Frost fur bushed out in freight. His eyes wildly searched back and forth for the death-bringer but he was long gone. He brought his head up while the rest of his body quivered. All pelts were unharmed and accounted for but something about what Savage had said seemed a little off.
A bad omen a warning? Frost didn't have time to think up a possible conclusion to the matter as a far off noise, echoing down below into the farthest parts in the twisty corridors. A sense of dread gripped Frost's heart unwilling to let got for anything. He knew this was bound to happen. It was the right time, the right place. Perhaps that is why the demon himself laid down his nest here at the exact day to where the questing cats would seek answers to him.
"We must leave immediately." He voice was low, raspy and came out in more of a whisper tone than he would have liked but now was not the time to beat down those oddities in him.
A dapple golden cat rose herself up, cocking her head to one side despite the anxiety that swayed her off her paws before. "Why the rush, it's not like we can speed out of here faster than how we came in?"
Frost flinched away at the obvious statement. It was because of his bad leg and low stamina that they had to stay a day or two wondering around the tunnel-ways. It was by luck alone those they any food or shelter from the stinking piles of dirt and gods knows what.
"We don't have time for this," he growled. "The flood water is coming to sweep away everything in its path. If we don't hurry and find the exit we will be the next thing floating in these waters."
Eyes flashed in realization. One cat looked to another murmuring their unsettled by the city cat's words. Another cat squeezed past her comrades. Her blue eyes glittering with worry and she dipped her head in quite acknowledgement to the tom.
"Tell us what we need to do and we'll do it." The Clan cats' pelts rippled in surprise as even the thought of her speaking amazed them.
"Mistfur, you don't th-"
Irritation crackled over her pelt and she whipped around to smack some sense into the tom-cat who spoken out of turns.
She snarled at him. "Thinking is beyond us now. We need to be concerned about getting out of here alive." The tom reeled back, shaking his fur as if clearing his head after the brutal hit he received.
Mistfur glanced at Frost, awaiting his orders. She, out of all of them, understood the dire urgency in this situation. Shocked, and hiding the admiration welling within him he lead them down further into the tunnels, praying to whomever was listening that they would make it out of here in one piece.
. . .
"The water is coming in too fast!"
Frost head snapped back to see the Clan cats tugging their sodden paws in the dark streams of tainted water. Progress was painfully, agonizingly slow. It was impossible to turn around now as he could almost sense the rush of flood water crashing into the stony walls and heading right for them.
His face crumbled in dismay when the rise of water quickened, the gurgling brushed his ears whispering so sweetly that it terrified him even more. He made a final attempt to break free from the rise of panic threatening to drown him alive with the rest of his crew.
"Make a run for it," Blackpelt seized the opportunity to jolt past his so-called comrades and into the darkness of the tunnels. Blinded by the inky black abyss he sped away, leaving them all behind to fend for themselves and the death rushing to meet them.
"What is he, how could he…?" the dapple she-cat whimpered, her entire being shatter into pieces, unraveling threads never to be sewn back together.
Frost held no comfort or sympathetic feelings for either of them. His concerns was no towards them rather it was coming out of this hell hole alive. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes searched around the passage and another surge of dark water met his chest.
He only saw a glimpse of that bright-eyed, proud she-cat that stood against her travel partners. She was lost in the frantic rush of it all. The chambers seem to burst open from either side with the retched waste.
It hit him like a ton of bricks. He twisted and flailed under the weight of debris and greasy gunk that intended to push him further into the rank, hot deep. He fought and clawed desperately at the walls but this proved little effort against the powerful torrent that raked the whole group down and at its mercy.
Broken.
His body slammed against broken stone and sent him rolling into the next.
Beaten.
Lungs screaming for air as he sank deeper and deeper into perpetual darkness.
Scarred, beyond repair.
Frost could feel his bruised body nudged into the direction of an exit. His mind muddled by the water plummeting down as it would allow him too; one danger after another left him in tethers. The moon dappled his pelt and his weightless body streaming down the sludge river. The bars held him back from his freedom. He was so close and yet fate wouldn't put it past his destined end. What of the others? Surely they were drowned or flowing back into some other part of the city.
He could feel his mind slip into ease. He sighed letting the water engulf his figure once more, pulling him down one final time. For once in his life he did not feel any pain or regret or even sorrow.
"I trade my soul to save another. Let this be enough to relinquish what has been…done."
Bellowing of laughter rang out his ears and a hiss followed after. "The deal has been sealed. You belong to me now…"
"…Your entire fault…" A voice from the far reaches of his mind climbed its way up, wanting to anguish him once more before leaving him for dead. Blue eyes, bluer than any pair he's known flashed in his vision that was swiftly fading away. Nothing was said then on as his last draw of breath that made its way past his twisted mouth and tongue with a trail of blood.