Recap: "We think those rogues took him with them. He was still fighting, but they dragged him away from camp and we haven't found him yet. Not even a scent trail! I hope we catch something soon. No blood trails are a good thing, right?" The voices murmured, and Pebblescar listen listened in disbelief as they wandered off.
What in the world was going on?
Pebblescar's body lie in a bed of shrubberies that had come from ThunderClan's flaking trees. The leaves piled under him as well as over, and surrounding him were tall reeds that most likely veiled his scent. When he tried moving his legs, he realized how badly they ached—after all, his body was covered in wounds and scratches from battle, and on top of that, he had barely gotten any food nor rest. The pile of RiverClan cats had surely dealt many blows to him too, and all these impediments hadn't started bothering him till now. However, as the familiar voice of the RiverClan warrior, Gartooth, came to mind, he thought, So I'm back to the world in which I'm deputy?
Don't let this be a trick.
"Pebblescar!" Gartooth called into the air. His voice was past the circle of reeds Pebblescar's body lie. The patrol hadn't scented him.
Pebblescar struggled to his paws, his legs trembling with his weight. "I-I'm here," he tried to call, but his voice was too low since he had just woken. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to yowl louder. "Gartooth, I'm here!"
Don't let this be a trick, thought the gray tom yet again, as Gartooth's ears pricked. Pebblescar forced his legs to rouse and carry his weight, and he clambered away from the leaves and reeds, only to come crashing down in a turmoil of dead bushes. His back arched in pain and he grunted when a thorn pierced through his skin.
"Pebblescar!" gasped a new voice, Featherlight. The she-cat immediately ran toward him, followed by Gartooth and Ripplefoot. "Here, let me help you." There was concern in the she-cat's mew as she leaned down and gently pulled his body upward. It was not a trick. "Are you alright?"
Pebblescar gave a weary nod, and sat down before he could trip again. He tried to hold in his breath of relief as he exchanged a glance with all three of his worried Clanmates, remembering in his dream how much hate he harbored for them. "Yeah, for the most part . . ." He gulped down a nervous breath, and looked at all three cats. "Wh-what happened?"
"A fight with those mangy pack rogues," growled Ripplefoot, baring his fangs. "Do you not remember? They greedily wanted us to contract our borders behind the river! You fought bravely, but when they retreated, you went missing too."
"We think they captured you and left you here," Gartooth put in, his green eyes wide. "I'm so glad we have found you. Minnowfrost and Oakfire were worried sick!"
Pebblescar's heart fluttered. "M-Minnowfrost was worried?"
His memories flashed to Reedstorm and Minnowfrost's relationship, and how she was expecting his kits. For a moment, his belly filled with the familiar hot rage of jealousy and bloodlust, but then he remembered: Reedstorm and Minnowfrost don't have that relationship here. His gaze traveled down to his paws as his thoughts swirled on. The fact that Reedstorm and Minnowfrost do not have a relationship did not change Pebblescar's detestation for Reedstorm, and he would do whatever it takes to satisfy his own justice.
"Yes, Minnowfrost was worried," Featherlight purred, cutting off Pebblescar from his thoughts. "There's a big thorn stuck on your back. Let me take that out for you, it must hurt." She leaned behind him and pulled it out as Pebblescar continued thinking. The pain of the thorn did not bother him at all. The only thing that bothered him was being with his Clanmates. Even though in this reality he was everything he ever wanted, his feelings never changed.
Gartooth padded in front of Pebblescar, and he flinched at the sudden closeness. "Can you walk? We must return to camp as soon as possible."
"Of course I can walk," mumbled Pebblescar, standing on all four paws. "I was just drowsy earlier, but I feel better now." He walked ahead of them with his head held high, trying to prevent the noticeable limp in his walk. His body was still scratched, sore and injured, but despite being in such a good reality, he felt that he should not show weakness anymore no matter what, especially after what happened in his . . . dream.
Yes, my dream, thought Pebblescar as he followed the patrol back in the direction of camp. I'm finally back to where things are supposed to be . . . but what if it is a trick? What if the moment I return to camp, Reedstorm is deputy, Minnowfrost is having kits, and Cinderclaw and Oakfire are dead? Despite his worries, he continued onward to camp, too weak to flee or question the patrol.
Gartooth padded beside Pebblescar, his pelt brushing against his. "If it's hard to walk, you can lean on me." He must have noticed Pebblescar's limping.
Pebblescar slightly allowed his weight to rest upon Gartooth as the river came into view. They were nearly by the camp.
The patrol finally came upon the hill that sloped downward, and passed the wall of reeds as they clambered down by the riverside. The water shimmered brightly under the sun; its light reflected both inside and out of the surface, casting beautiful, clear beams of light. The river seemed calm today, flowing at an unhurried and lethargic pace. Once there, Ripplefoot and Featherlight both turned to Pebblescar, as if expecting him to ask for support to cross the lake.
Pebblescar took his weight off of Gartooth and eased into the water, ready to prove that a bit of an obstacle wouldn't slow him down. The water was cold and refreshing, and Pebblescar's bloody, hot wounds instantly cooled to the touch.
"You—you don't need help?" Gartooth stammered, instantly rushing to Pebblescar's side. "You're still hurt. A cat that can't walk properly can't swim properly."
Pushing himself forward, Pebblescar murmured over his shoulder, "Swimming is easier than walking. You should know that since you're a RiverClan cat."
Gartooth flinched at Pebblescar's cold answer, and Featherlight paddled to his side as if she was also making sure that he could safely travel to the other side of the lake. Slight annoyance swarmed his mind. Only moments ago you're the ones who inflicted such wounds to my body! he wished he could say, but he knew that this was not the other world—the world in which he kills. This was the real world.
Slowly but surely, he paddled to the other side of the lake, making sure not to stretch his wounds. The water around him turned a crystal scarlet, and his gashes began to sting the longer he spent time in the water. His energy seemed to be wasting too . . . until finally, he reached the other side of the lake, hauling himself up onto dry land and collapsing on his side. His fur was soaking wet—seeming almost black, and stuck to his body.
The rest clambered out of the waters as well, crawling to his exhausted side. "You're really strong," Featherlight said, her eyes admiring her deputy's endurance.
Pebblescar lifted his head and met her copper eyes, nodding to her comment. "Th-thanks." He was still breathless to talk, and struggled to get onto his paws.
"A few more steps and we're finally in camp," Gartooth said. "Come on, every cat's worried sick."
Pebblescar nodded and gulped down his breath as he finally managed to stand with the help of Ripplefoot. The four finally made it to the camp's entrance, where Gartooth and Featherlight entered first, followed next by Ripplefoot and an exhausted Pebblescar leaning heavily on his body.
The moment he made it to the center of the camp, cats finally seemed to take notice to the patrol's return. Instantly, Troutstar padded up to them, his gaze relieved as he saw Pebblescar. "My deputy! I'm so glad you're okay!"
Pebblescar didn't realize that his heart was pounding so heavily to his ribs. A small part of him believed that this was a trick—bringing him back to camp, pretending he was the victim instead of the murderer in the midst of the battle. But the moment he saw Oakfire amongst the crowd of cats, he knew that bringing him back to camp was not a hoax. I murdered her once, he thought, and she's alive!
Relief seemed to wash over him as he lied on the ground, knowing now that he didn't have to stand his own guard.
"Everyone, give Pebblescar space!" yowled Hailtail as she made her way to the center of the camp. "Make way, I'm trying to get to him!"
The crowd of cats obliged, immediately dispersing into a looser circle around Pebblescar and the patrol of cats.
Hailtail was followed by Minnowfrost, as she was holding the necessary herbs to heal him in her jaws.
"Everyone, leave!" Hailtail called even louder.
"You heard her," Oakfire yowled, turning to the group of cats. "Pebblescar needs his space—you can come back when he's recovered."
Hailtail stood in front of Oakfire. "You too, you need to give Pebblescar space as well."
"What?" Oakfire hissed, her white pelt bristling. "Why can't I stay with him? He's my—"
"Just go," Minnowfrost said, her eyes stern.
"And you get to stay?" jeered the white she-cat warrior, her eyes shining with insubordination.
"I need Minnowfrost helping me. My apprentice is out at the moment . . . If you really care about Pebblescar so much, end this discussion so we can help him! You'll get to see him later!" Hailtail's nose flared with annoyance.
Finally, Oakfire seemed to give up, and reluctantly stepped away, padding to the back of the camp with her tail drooped. Pebblescar did not even feel the slightest amount of pity within pit of his stomach. After all, he's a murderer in another world and learned never to pity his victims. Besides, he was glad that she was gone, and he'd have some sort of closeness to Minnowfrost.
"Minnowfrost, I'm sorry that you're new to this, but please clean his gashes," Hailtail said, as she began readying her poultice of herbs.
Minnowfrost complied, rasping her tongue over Pebblescar's wet fur. As she did so, Pebblescar couldn't help but let out a purr—this is a dream!—and she seemed to notice, purring back.
In the other world, Minnowfrost was never this close to him. In the other world, her heart was set on another cat. But here, he seemed to be closer to her than ever, and his heart fluttered with happiness.
"That's enough, Minnowfrost." The medicine cat shooed the warrior she-cat out of the way, so she could apply her herb mixtures to his scratches.
Minnowfrost padded up to Pebblescar, and touched her nose to his. "I was so scared when you had gone," she whispered, her voice low enough for the two of them to hear. "You—you fought so bravely in the battle—you saved my life!"
I did? thought the dark-furred warrior. This part of the battle was not in his memories, but yet again, he never understood anything anymore. "Of course I'd save you," he went along, speaking as if his memories were clear. "Above my life, yours will always be more important than mine."
Minnowfrost's eyes gleamed with some sort of emotion, and she gave his cheek and affectionate lick.
"Next time you let yourself into battle, I'll stick dangerously close to you," Minnowfrost warned with a purr.
"I wouldn't complain," Pebblescar replied, his purr thickening.
"Alright, you may go now, Minnowfrost. Pebblescar, come to my den," Hailtail said, trying to lift up Pebblescar.
He complied, clambering onto his paws as he limped to the medicine den with the support of the medicine cat. He threw one last glance over his shoulder, and spotted Minnowfrost padding to her sister by the warrior's den after she waved her tail goodbye. Nearby, Oakfire sat with a look of jealousy on her face.
Pebblescar sighed, knowing that he'll have to deal with her soon as he lied down on his makeshift nest.
"You may sleep," Hailtail said gently. "Here, take this poppy seed. It'll soothe the pain and relax you, so you can sleep."
Pebblescar obeyed, lapping it up. "Thank you."
"Sleep," the medicine-cat repeated as he lied his head down.
I'll sleep, he thought, his tail flicking with content, and when I wake, Minnowfrost will be by my side . . .
* * *
Pebblescar awoken once more to a blind red-and-gold. His eyes opened in a flash, and he realized something alarming—I'm outside! Quickly standing, he observed his surroundings and realized that he was where he had been before, on the day he fled from RiverClan camp and fallen asleep. No longer was he in Hailtail's medicine den. His gray pelt bristled with unease, and his pads ached with distress.
For a moment, just a moment, being with Minnowfrost had him forget about his ever-so changing life. He'd forgotten how every time he'd fall asleep, he'd wake up in one out of two different realities.
And in this reality, he was an outcast that had fled from RiverClan after a battle he caused. In this reality, he sabotaged the Clans by murdering that ThunderClan apprentice and leaving the scent of RiverClan by the corpse. In this reality, Minnowfrost was with Reedstorm, the Clan's new deputy, and was expecting his kits.
This was the nightmare reality, where blood covered his paws, and ferocity laced his muscles and mind alike.
And there's some cat nearby, he thought, crouching down within the tall grass and reeds, catching the scent of RiverClan.
Surprisingly, his wounds did not hurt. They were still somehow bandaged and healed by the medicine cat, and he had enough rest to let him regain his strength. Whoever was coming his way, he was prepared to face if necessary.
Shock strained Pebblescar's very bones as he realized that the patrol was made up of the same three cats who saved him in the other world—Gartooth, Featherlight and Ripplefoot. The three walked along the same path as before, but instead of searching to help Pebblescar, they seemed to be on a hunting patrol, by the way they scented the air.
His ears stressed forward once they were in earshot so he could hear their conversation.
"I can't believe it—Minnowfrost looks like she's going to have Reedstorm's kits any day soon," Featherlight said, her voice sounding rather . . . happy. "I've never seen Minnowfrost looking so plump. Maybe in a sun or two it will happen."
Pebblescar's claws unsheathed and sunk into the ground as he tried with all his might to hold back a vigorous and livid growl.
Gartooth nodded with agreement. "Exciting news indeed, considering our recent events."
Events that should have happened! Pebblescar almost muttered under his breath.
Ripplefoot gave a solemn nod as his eyes darkened. "You're right. Who could have known our deputy would turn out to be the murderer Glimmerstream depicted him to be?" As they came closer to Pebblescar, he ducked his head below the undergrowth. "But don't worry, he's dead now. And it's a good thing, too. I never really liked him much anyways."
Disbelief coursed through his blood. Just moments ago, these three were worried for Pebblescar, and treated him with respect and brought him back to camp! It's as if it was all fake! thought the former RiverClan deputy. Then, he remembered: But that was then. This is now, in a different world. Despite wishing to stay where he was before, he was still here, in a world where he murders cats.
And that's just what I shall do!
Gartooth and Featherlight passed Pebblescar's hiding spot, not noticing him one bit. He allowed them to pass. However, once Ripplefoot was close enough to his position, he dashed from the undergrowth and immediately leaped upon his former Clanmate, biting down his throat with all the strength he could muster. Ripplefoot gagged and tried to kick Pebblescar off, but it was no use, for the murderer had already chomped his teeth through the flesh up until the bone. Half of Ripplefoot's neck opened wide, causing his head to fall back. The tom's body went limp the moment Gartooth and Featherlight had noticed.
"You . . . you murderer!" Featherlight growled, grief thick in her meow. "How dare you!"
With a charge, she leaped to Pebblescar, battle-ready unlike Ripplefoot. Gartooth was flanking her side, baring his fangs and unsheathing his claws as well. When the two warriors landed, he instantaneously darted to the side and leaped into the air, landing heavily on Gartooth's back, knocking the wind out of him before propelling himself back into the air by Featherlight's side.
For a moment, the two warriors fought ferociously. Featherlight, being the smaller one, easily dodged Pebblescar's attacks—but Pebblescar was fighting brutally, with the intent to kill. His bloodlust was much stronger than Featherlight, and so was his thirst for revenge.
Raising his paw into the air, he landed a heavy blow to her head with outstretched claws, raking down her left eye pitilessly. She yowled with pain as blood pooled down her fur and nose, blocking half her view. Whizzing to her blind spot, Pebblescar landed another blow to her left shoulder, causing her to tumble onto the ground with a dramatic roll.
Gartooth, still out of breath, wheezed. "N-no! Pebblescar, please spare her!" He tried struggled to his paws, but couldn't make it as Pebblescar landed the finishing blow on Featherlight's neck, splitting open her flesh with his sharp bloodied claws.
Gartooth choked on his breath, his green eyes wide as Pebblescar slowly made his way to the brown-furred tom.
"P-Pebblescar," rasped the warrior, coughing heavily. "D-don't kill me. We-we were friends, right? We are friends!"
For a moment, Pebblescar's eyes flashed. He hesitated—but not out of sympathy. He hesitated out of thought, before looking back down to the defenseless RiverClan warrior.
"Yes, friends. We are friends . . . perhaps in another reality." His tone was deep, tired, but sure.
Gartooth's eyes buzzed with equal fear and confusion as Pebblescar lunged down, killing the warrior easily and swiftly. With a thump, Gartooth landed on the ground, dust and blood rising into the air. The blood of all three of his former Clanmates filled all his senses—it was all he could see, smell, taste, touch . . . and even hear. He heard the blood of his enemies on the ground, crying out from Pebblescar's brutal murder of yet another three innocent cats—cats who did not deserve to die.
The blood cried out to his ears, voices chorusing in his ears of not only the three, but all his victims. "Pebblescar, Pebblescar, darkness haunts your heart!"
Pebblescar listened with wide ears as he fled into the trees, his heart beating madly with adrenaline.
"Darkness haunts your heart . . ."
Hey guys, it's been a while since I wrote in this book even though I helped to originally plan it. Well yeah, it was me, Lightning. Tell me if you liked it. My chapters are usually long, so sorry if that was bothersome.