Watership down 2 - a new threat

Chapter 10

Chapter 10: A Night of Terror

The night air was thick with an unsettling silence as Fiver lay restless, his heart racing in his chest. The flickering firelight cast eerie shadows on the walls of their makeshift camp, but it was the darkness behind his eyelids that held the real horror.

He found himself standing in a desolate landscape, the ground stained with blood and littered with lifeless bodies. The air was heavy with the stench of decay, a smell that twisted his stomach and made him want to gag. Panic surged through him, and he stumbled forward, trying to find a way out, but the scene was hauntingly familiar.

"Fiver!" a voice called out, echoing around him. It was Hazel, but his voice was distorted, filled with pain and urgency. "Fiver, where are you?"

He turned, desperately searching for his brother, but he couldn't find him. Instead, he stood next to a body—a rabbit he didn't recognize, eyes wide open and glassy, forever frozen in a silent scream. The sight made Fiver's breath hitch in his throat. "No! Not again!" he cried out, but his voice felt muted, as if swallowed by the oppressive darkness around him.

With every step he took, more bodies appeared, each one a grim reminder of what had happened before. He stumbled, the ground beneath him squelching as he stepped in pools of blood, and nausea rose in his throat. "This can't be real," he whispered, desperately trying to wake up, but the vision only deepened, pulling him into a vortex of despair.

Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. Fiver turned slowly, and there, looming in the shadows, was a figure. It was General Woundwort, his eyes glinting with malice. "You should have stayed hidden, little rabbit," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You can't escape this fate."

Fiver's heart pounded harder in his chest, and he felt as if the ground might swallow him whole. "No! I won't let you do this!" he screamed, though he felt powerless against the weight of the nightmare.

As Woundwort stepped closer, the vision shifted, and Fiver found himself back in the warren—only it was engulfed in flames, the cries of his friends ringing in his ears. "Hazel! Bigwig!" he shouted, but no answer came. Just the sound of chaos and destruction.

With a jolt, Fiver shot awake, gasping for breath, drenched in cold sweat. The darkness of the night surrounded him, but it felt lighter than the darkness of his dream. He looked around the camp, relief flooding over him as he saw his friends, safe and sound, asleep by the fire.

But the relief was fleeting. The vision lingered in his mind, and dread coiled tightly in his stomach. They were running out of time.

Fiver sat up, trembling slightly as he fought to steady his breathing. He knew he had to tell Hazel and the others about the nightmare. They needed to be prepared for what was coming.

With a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet, ready to confront the impending darkness that awaited them. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it head-on, just as he always had.