Bloodflower

Chapter 27

Rosepaw raced through the shadowy forest, her lungs burning and tail streaming out behind her. Nightpaw was just in front of her; all she could see was the tip of his tail, lit up by the full moon.

"Come on, slow slug!" he teased her.

"I'm gonna get you!" Rosepaw panted, laughter bubbling inside her. These were the times she appreciated the most, sneaking out of camp at night with her best friend and playing in the moonlit forest. All her worries, all her soreness from training, were gone with the wind the moment her paws touched the forest floor.

Wait...those days are over. Nightpaw doesn't even talk to me now!

Rosepaw slid to a halt, blinking in confusion. She looked to where Nightpaw was standing, and gasped.

He was no longer there. In his place was a small cat with black patches staining his white fur. His amber eyes glared at her mockingly.

Oh no...I remember this cat, Rosepaw thought suddenly, horrified. I thought these dreams were over!

The strange cat's claws gleamed challengingly under the moon. "So, are you ready for your revenge yet?" he hissed.

Rosepaw tried to tell him that she didn't know what he was talking about. But she just couldn't get the words out. Instead her dream-self let out a long, low growl. "I'd like nothing better!"

Narrowing her eyes, she launched herself at the little cat and tackled him to the ground. He screeched as her claws sunk deep into his shoulders, pinning him to the ground.

I don't want to do this! the real Rosepaw thought, trapped inside her own body. What's happening to me?

Her dream-self snarled with a sinister delight. "I'm going to make you feel just as much pain as he did."

"No, please," the black-and-white cat croaked. He coughed up earth, his face pressed helplessly into the ground. "You don't have to do this!"

"You didn't have to do what you did either," Rosepaw hissed. "But here we are." What did this cat do? Why do I hate him so much? Please, she begged to no one in particular, I need to know!

Baring her teeth menacingly, Rosepaw sunk the claws of one paw into the tom's throat. He gasped in pain, writhing desperately to escape her grip.

Slowly, agonizingly, she drew her paw across his neck, slicing the skin open as she went. Spatters of blood hit the ground, and landed hot on her fur; the cat released a gurgled cry as he choked on his own blood, but Rosepaw didn't care.

"That's right," she snarled. "Feel the pain. The same pain that I've felt for far too long." Inside, these words and inescapable feelings of anger and grief and satisfaction were as horrifying as watching this cat's death, his blood on her paws.

There's something wrong with me. Everything I'm doing is against the warrior code! As if arguing with her own mind, she added, He deserves this. Every drop of blood is payment for what he did.

Suddenly the patched tom went limp, his final breath sending another spurt of blood from the nasty gash in his throat. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the forest canopy, the sheer agony of his last moments clear in his expression.

Shadows lurked at the edge of Rosepaw's vision as her dream came to an end. With a final hiss of disdain, she spat, "Wherever you're going, you don't deserve peace."

She opened her eyes to pale morning sunlight filtering through tiny holes in the apprentice den walls. Still breathing rapidly from her nightmare, she took a deep breath to steady herself before rising from her nest. Several nests away, Nightpaw was still fast asleep. Or maybe he's just pretending to sleep so he doesn't have to talk to me.