WARNING : CHAPTER CONTAINS BLOODCLAN STUPIDITY AND REALLY BAD WORDS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!! AND I MEAN REEEEEEEEALLY BAD WORDS (PLEASE NOTE THAT WITH A WARNING BAD LANGUAGE IS PERMITTED - IT SAYS SO IN THE RULES). IF THAT BUGS YOU, RED THE CLEAN VERSION AT THE URL BELOW:warriorswish.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=1090&start=30~*~*~*~*~
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~ Chapter 3 - Into the Depths ~
"This is a bad idea..." said Gutter, a BloodClan mercenary, looking from side to side nervously. His gray tabby pelt sparkled with dewy drops of mist that clung to his fur. "I dunno what Scourge was thinking, sending all of us into the forest like this..."
"Shuddup, would ya?" growled Bark, a larger, brownish tom, and the leader of their expedition. "There are twenty of them, at most, an' we got at least fifty cats behind us. We ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout, damn it!"
"But this place, it gives me the creeps..." said Gutter nervously. "Just look at it! Doesn't somethin' just feel... wrong?" Bark snorted at his ally, although he secretly agreed with him. GraveClan territory was indeed eerie. The ground felt soft and marshy, but it was invisible due to the thick, shallow layer of swirling fog that masked it. The trees blocked out almost all sunlight, the old, gnarled trees, dead trees - dead though they may have been, they still bore millions of blackened leaves, as if afraid of losing them forever, should they let go of them. Bluish mushrooms grew on tree trunks and old rocks, faintly reflecting what little light that managed to permeate the thick, black canopy. They seemed to give off a glow, as if to attract wanderers deeper in, only to show them a shadowy death.
But Bark wasn't about to admit his fear. "Quit bein' such a big kittypet," he snapped. "Every cat seemed reluctant, at first, but ya don't hear them complainin' -"
"Uh, maybe they seemed reluctant because Scourge is OFF HIS FUCKIN' NUT," hissed Gutter, hoping none of the BloodClanners behind them had heard, lest they taddle on him. "I mean, he's been tryin' to kill this 'Wormstar' for nine moons, and every time he sends some cat in, we never see 'em again. What difference is sending ALL of us in gonna make?"
"We're strongest in numbers," said Bark, noting with a private chill that GraveClan had left a few warnings out for them. Dead BloodClanners dotted the edge of the ditch-like path through which they traveled. Some were missing eyes. Some were missing entire limbs. Others were torn open and stuffed half-way into each other, so they appeared to be growing extra bodies from one side and extra heads from another. The gruesome sights varied every few tail-lengths. Apparently, all of BloodClan had seen. It was very hard to miss.
"Well, why didn't Scourge come, huh?" screeched Gutter, each word more fearful than the next. "Oh, yeah, he's a REAL big, scary, leader - while his pals are off dyin' he's sittin' at home, stuffin' his face, talkin' fancy to all his private she-cats! An' when we get there, when we get there we're gonna die, we're dead, we're dead..."
"Shuddup!"
"...we're FUCKED! We're DOOMED!"
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" echoed Bark furiously (Gutter was frightening him). "I heard somethin'!"
All of BloodClan instantly fell silent. They were listening for what Bark heard. There was the moan of the wind through the darkness above, the crackle of dead undergrowth as units of prey skirted in and out of their homes, the cawing of crows in the distance... but nothing strange. But the silence was getting uncomfortable. Very, very un-
"Aaaagh!" a cry pierced the air from the back of the group. Terrified and surprised, the BloodClanners all turned around. Since Bark and Gutter were at the front of the batallion, they couldn't see what was going on. "What 'appened back dare?" called Bark.
"Flower's gone!" called one of the cats.
"What?!" shouted Bark. "Whad'da'ya mean, she's 'gone'?!" He pushed his way through the group, shouldering allies out of the way, until he came to the spot where Flower had disappeared. Moortread, one of her best friends and the one who had called Bark, sat looking horrified.
"Well, what 'appened?" asked the leader of the group impatiently.
Moortread stammered. "W-w-well, w-we were j-just talking about..." She already seemed embarassed of what she was saying, but Bark gave her a firy glare, and she continued. "About, maybe, one d-day, we might want to have kits... you know, of our own... and she j-just screamed then, and I turned around, but she was gone!"
Bark looked up and called, "BloodClan! Move out, double time!" He was headed back to the front of the group when another scream rent the chilling air. This time, Bark recognized it. He bolted up to the front, but to his dismay, nobody had seen the disappearance. Struggling to maintain himself, he timidly called out, "G-Gutter? M-m-mate? Where are you?" No answer.
The whole Clan was hysterical as they wandered deeper into the territory. It only got darker, and mistier, and darker, and mistier... some cats seemed to be losing their minds. Eventually, the path rose out of the ditch and dissolved into the fleshy earth, still lost under the mist. The trees almost looked as if they were beckoning the cats further in, waiting for them to come and die shady deaths.
Another scream. And another! Not once had the vanishings been seen yet, but nobody needed to see to know what was happening. GraveClan was there. Before long, they were little more than a mob of terrified kittypets and loners and rogues and exiles, all rushing blindly and unknowingly into the depths of the forest. It wasn't until Catso, an incredibly fat mercenary, was being dragged off that Bark devised a sort of plan. Catso's impressive belly made it difficult for the GraveClanner who caught him to drag him off. The enemy was barely larger than an apprentice, and when he saw the BloodClanners watching him, he ran, leaving Catso behind. "Follow him!" roared Bark.
The hostile wasn't fast. Bark almost caught up with him from time to time. He dared not slow down, for he could hear the hundreds of paws of his allies thundering behind him. The little idiot was leading them right to the camp! Finally, Bark felt as if he were in charge of the situation again. Some cats bumped into trees, and some stumbled over roots, but for the most part, the going was good.
The camp was in a deep, foggy depression in the land, surrounded on all sides with rockys wall about ten times the height of any cat. One ramp-like slab of earth led down into it - it appeared even higher due to the towering trees that grew around the edges and provided a roof of twisted roots. But when they got into the camp (it was surprisingly vast) the enemy cat put on a burst of speed and disappeared into the mist. The BloodClanners, confused, stopped and looked around. The damp, rough, black stone walls were all around them, making them feel small. Bark's confidence was diminishing again.
The camp was just as creepy as the rest of GraveClan territory. There was no noise... except for... a small scuffling in the fog. All the GraveClanners faced the sound - nothing came into view at first, but soon, two playing kits tumbled out into the open. They were oblivious to the intruders behind them. Without bothering to wonder where their parents were, Bark stepped forward with a nasty grin and pinned one of them down by it's tail. They both howled in fear. The free kit tried to run away, but Split, another BloodClanner, blocked his path.
"Well, well, well, looky here..." chuckled Bark as the kit he trapped swatted and bit his leg in hopes of escape. "Stop that, weakling, or I'll make ya squirm even more than I was gonna do in the first place!" The kit retreated and began to cry - so did her friend.
"Oh, don't cry, wee one," said Bark devilishly. "You should just relish the last free moments o' your life!" His remark was met with evil chuckles from his allies, so he continued. "You're a pretty lil' thing, ain't ya! So celebrate! Cause ya ain't gonna be pretty when I'm done with ya!"
"Help!" squealed the kit. "Help me!"
"Mama!" wailed the other. The BloodClanners laughed at them.
"What're ya gonna do with 'em, boss?" asked Split, batting his prisoner's head, making him tip over. "Can I help?"
"Oh, sure, sure," said Bark. "There's enough fun here for everyone, eh?" Laughter. Some of it was his own.
"MAMA!"
And that call did it. There was the sound of pawsteps, the rustle of fur brushing against stone. A she-cat appeared, silhouetted against the fog - her figure was dark, but her green eyes glowed through the mist, burning with rage. "Let my kit go," she meowed evenly. Bark was so surprised that he actually DID let the kit go. "Now," said the she-cat, "release Raggedclaw's kit!"
For some reason, Split felt that he should obey, despite cries of outrage from Bark. He released the kit, and both of them ran to and hid behind the she-cat. She didn't move.
Bark approached her angrily. "And who are you?" he growled. "Who are YOU to tell US what to do? I'd say you're in no position to give orders!" The she-cat said nothing, but a sudden hiss right next to Bark's ear made him jump. He turned sharply to find himself staring at the most beautiful, deadly-looking face he had seen in his life. Another she-cat, but it didn't look like a queen. This one was pure warrior material.
"Ah, Shiverwing, you've returned," said the first she-cat, beding to lick her kit, then Raggedclaw's.
"How have our guests behaved, Deadpetal?" asked the one called Shiverwing. Her yellow eyes were hypnotizing, her beautiful, raven-colored fur, streaked with blood. She had been one of the ones who dragged off the BloodClanners earlier. "Most naughty, by the sound of things..."
Bark wasn't about to be outdone by a she-cat. He leaped at her with all his might, just to prove he wasn't afraid. It was a mistake. Shiverwing slithered out of his way like a ghost and struck back hard - the force of her attack sent him staggering back, howling, as blood gushed from the empty pit where his left eye had been moments before. "OW, FUCK!"
Shiverwing looked to the top of the camp walls and called, "Skullstorm, perhaps you could assist me?"
Every member of BloodClan felt fear ripple through themselves. They all remembered Skullstorm from nine moons ago in the alley. But they dared not move. First, all the mutilated bodies of the cats who had been dragged off spilled over the edges of the walls, and landed with sickening splats and splashes of fluid. Then, Skullstorm jumped down. Some BloodClanners swore they felt the ground shake as the monstrous tabby crushed Bark's figure beneath his mighty, muscular body. There was a sickening crunching and squelching as bones were pounded and snapped, as organs were flattened and popped, as blood spurted from Bark's mouth and eyes and nose... and then, their chief was still. Forever.
Skullstorm climbed off of the corpse that he had mashed like an insect and licked Shiverwing's cheek. "The patrols have returned," he growled. His voice was more of a deep, scratchy growl. "They're waiting at the top of the walls."
Shiverwing smiled intricately and nuzzled the main breeding tom's cheek, but no BloodClanners saw - they were scanning the walltops frantically for the patrols Skullstorm had spoken of. Sure enough, dozens of hellish eyes glowered down at them. They had walked right into a trap. Instinctively, their fur bristled and their claws slid out, but none of the enemies seemed afraid. In fact, they laughed. And then, the worst thing possible for the BloodClanners happened - Wormstar appeared out of the fog, looking most satisfied.
"I am displeased that my brother stayed behind, for I wished to take his life along with all of yours," said the she-cat coldly. "Oh well, this is truly a glorious day for GraveClan - we saw you coming long before you arrived. Assassination patrols were organized to pick you off, then Rottenpaw brought you here. Now, I'm afraid you're going to die. But not for long. My anscestor spoke to me in a dream, you see - his name, Orus Leo. He has revived his power within me - how does an eternity of zombified enslavement sound to everyone?"
GraveClan moved in. Much blood was spilled by them that day. Wormstar watched, and laughed. Laughed long and loud. Her ancestors wanted it this way. Step one was complete. Her reign had begun.