Warriors Short Stories | 2020

The Hawk In Brambles | Short Story AU

It was cold, so cold, the night the dark tabby tom awoke with the strangest feeling. His stomach flipped, twisting and turning as if being wrung by another. His chest felt too small, breaths becoming short and quick. His heart seemed to constantly jump to his throat, and he found himself swallowing often as if he could push the organ back down to its place. His head ached horribly, his eyes burned in his sockets, his sharp teeth pounded painfully in his gums.

Brambleclaw stood, unable to attempt sleep any longer. The warrior den was quiet, the only sound was light snoring and birds rustling outside of camp. Brambleclaw shivered, making his body hurt more. He let out a shaky breath and watched it swirl around his head in a dizzying way. His ears were numb, or at least the tips were, as the tom settled down in his nest again, trying to block out his agonizing pain that had come out of nowhere in the night.

Brambleclaw . . .

The icy voice spooked the tom, after he had just closed his eyes for what felt like only a second. Brambleclaw froze, his ears now feeling active and warm as they swiveled around, searching for the source of the voice that called to him. He scanned the den only to find everyone asleep, their flanks calmly rising and falling as they dreamed peacefully.

None of them spoke my name, Brambleclaw concluded. The tom settled once more and shivered. Why must it be so cold? Brambleclaw shut his eyes and pictured the hot sun beating down on his fur, it’s warm rays heating his body. The tom smiled at the thought, he could almost smell the scents of greenleaf. That’s when he heard it call again. His pain almost seemed to fade away . . .

Brambleclaw . . .

The tabby’s eyes flashed open, frantically searching for the voice that confirmed that he was hearing something supernatural. “Who’s there?” Brambleclaw demanded, instantly wincing and moaning as his excruciating pain returned. There was no reply. The haunter didn’t want to show themself.

Knowing he needed to clear his head, Brambleclaw felt suddenly drawn to the lake. Standing and stepping carefully over the dreaming bodies, Brambleclaw felt a low growl rise in his throat as the odd pain continued. Finally stepping out of the den, the harsh weather cascaded over him as he emerged into the center of camp. Instantly his body eased and Brambleclaw took a breath, realizing he was holding it the entire time.

Moments later his paws had already taken him to the forest, his paw pads already numb, yet they still felt as if they were being pricked. He didn’t know why, but the lake seemed to pull him closer, calling to him.

Brambleclaw . . .

The forest broke, revealing the lake’s surface. It shone and shimmered under the moonlight, swift fish swan through its dark depths. The constant lapping of the small waves lulled him closer.

Pebbles crunched unevenly as Brambleclaw walked along the lake’s shore. The spot seemed awfully familiar, too familiar, but he couldn’t put his mind to it.

Blood will spill blood . . .

Suddenly, a dark red liquid trickled out of the forest. Brambleclaw stared in horror as it made its way towards the lake in a steady stream, staining all the pebbles in its path. Carefully, Brambleclaw ducked under a tree to attempt following the path of blood into the forest, but it stopped abruptly. There was no corpse, the blood had just appeared out of thin air.

The lake will run red . . .

The voice mocked Brambleclaw as he raced back towards the beach, pushing him closer to the lake despite his terrors. All he wanted to do right now was sprint back to camp, but he knew he couldn’t, the force seemed to pull him closer to the danger. The blood continued to run, finally making contact with the freezing lake water. When the blood connected with the water it seemed to almost disconnect with itself, thinning and swirling in unusual patterns, only to be lost as it traveled closer to the center of the lake, mixing and contaminating the water.

Brambleclaw. . .

The tom took a breath and swallowed, following the blood’s trail and peering into the water to gaze at his reflection. It was as it should have been. Him.

But it 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑛’𝑡 him.

His reflection’s features were larger, more distinct. His fur seemed darker. But the most horrifying part was that his eyes were different. Not amber, but instead an evil, icy blue.

“No . .” Brambleclaw shook his head as his fake reflection grinned back madly. “I killed you!”

“Indeed you did,” the reflection agreed, the blood curling around his head and entwining itself between his ears. “In this very spot actually. This was where you killed one of your kin.”

“I had to,” Brambleclaw growled back. “You were a monster!”

“I still am.” The reflection snickered.

“Stop your haunting, Hawkfrost! That prophecy has ended!”

“Oh.” Hawkfrost’s expression changed. “Or has it? I never got to spill the blood of the loyal deputy! It’s your turn Brambleclaw!”

And then he lunged out of the depths of the lake.

Brambleclaw felt his half brother’s claws constrict around his throat, piercing his skin and sending small waterfalls of blood onto the pebbles. Brambleclaw choked, his lungs blazing as he pawed at Hawkfrost, trying to push him away.

But Hawkfrost glared at Brambleclaw with pure hatred. “I could have had it all! Die, Brambleclaw!” Hawkfrost struck like a viper, clamping down onto Brambleclaw’s neck and causing him to go limp.

“Die!”

Brambleclaw woke with a start, his heart pounding so hard it seemed as if it would burst through his chest. It was dawn, the sun shone through the warrior den. Around him others were stirring.

Brambleclaw didn’t know nightmares so intense existed, but he couldn’t shake Hawkfrost’s dark and evil glare from haunting his waking thoughts. 𝐻𝑒’𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑, Brambleclaw reminded himself. 𝐼 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚. Yet the tom’s threats felt all too real, as if they would be back the next night, and the next, for forever. No, Brambleclaw knew he would never be safe from Hawkfrost’s attempts to murder him.

It's your turn, Brambleclaw . . .