Shadows (Zombie Warrior Cats)

Prologue

RockClan stalked silently through their rainy territory, heading toward StreamClan's camp as sneaky as a snake. The ground was soft and slushy. Newleaf was on it's way; it was a promise with the first rain in moons. Without a care in the world, their leader lead them on with a sharp glint in her eye and her muscles twitching with adrenaline.

RockClan halted only a few tail-lengths away from the camp they were planning to invade. The rain continued to pour on as the emotionless warriors sat in the hunters' crouch, waiting for a sign to move. Their leader only had to do a simple gesture with her tail tip to signal RockClan to surround StreamClan's campground.

With a cry over a flash of lightning, RockClan raided StreamClan's innocent camp.

As thunder crashed overhead, blood splattered the muddy snow with it's crimson liquid under the dark, stormy night sky. Yowls of fury, terror, and pain echoed through the air. Rain poured out of the sky way harder than a few heartbeats ago while the cats fought.

Each of the cats fought for what they believed was right. The world around them was dark and scary as their only light source was covered by thick, unwelcoming clouds.

Lark hurried into the camp as the battle continued mercilessly. With his glowing skull-protector, he watched the two Clans he came to grow fond of fight over nothing. RockClan had become nothing but greedy monsters, he realized with a shake of his head. As he stood at the entrance to StreamClan's camp, a RockClan warrior slashed a StreamClan warrior's jaw so had, their warm blood sprayed Lark's white dog skull. Lark held grudges until his time was up, but this grudge would linger around him even after death. Shaking his head from his disappointment and anger, he ran off into the night.

The Clans went on biting, slashing, and killing without noticing Lark's appearance nor disappearance.

As cats dropped and bled, the sound of the infected cats, dogs, and Twolegs came from beyond the fences. Thunder boomed again and flashed it's bright purple and yellow lights, illuminating the world to reveal bloody and injured, stumbling creatures as they made their way toward the smell and sound of an easy target.

Tired and injured, RockClan realized how foolish their decision was to attack StreamClan. Their leader was so emotionless at that point that they still hadn't realized what was truly going on. The world was lit up once more as both Clans paused their selfish acts to try to stitch up their new problem.

The infected bags of rotting meat headed toward the scent of the injured through the shadows of the night with their jaws wide, ready for the kill.