Deep Blue Eyes-- a warriors fanfic (completed story!)

Chapter 41

Nightclaw stared at Flowerblaze running through the trees towards ThunderClan. She admired the ginger she-cat’s courage.

“Not bad for ThunderClan,” Nightclaw murmured. She turned back to the task at hand. She would return home, and then some cat would magically have kits and Nightclaw would have to choose one to mentor. Personally, Nightclaw doubted that she should train a kit. Training a kit to be like her would involve introducing them to the cruelties of the world, and at such a young age many kits would break.

No. Nightclaw had to find a strong- not physically, but mentally- strong kit, who could handle any training that Nightclaw could throw at her. For that to happen the kit would most likely need to be related to Nightclaw to reduce any risks.

And the only way that a cat could be related to Nightclaw was if Hazelflower had kits.

The thought of Hazelflower’s name made Nightclaw dig her long, curved claws into the ground. Who knows what has happened to Hazelflower when Nightclaw was gone?

If Nightclaw came back and Hazelflower was expecting kits, Nightclaw would kill her. If she came back and Hazelflower had kits, she’d kill the kits. Nightclaw felt the cold flames dance inside of her when she thought of her sister and Silverstripe. Nightclaw would do anything to make Silverstripe suffer. And what better way to do that than to kill his kits? It would be almost like what Nightclaw had experienced when Silverstripe killed her sister, Blossomkit. Sweet, little Blossomkit who would never harm a soul in the world.

Nightclaw began to run around ThunderClan territory, determined to see what had happened to Hazelflower. Her heart was thudding, paws drumming, and anger burned inside of her as she thought of a million ways that Silverstripe would suffer.

As ThunderClan trees dwindled into ShadowClan’s pines, Nightclaw breathed in the scent of her home clan. The scent was much stronger than that of ThunderClan.

Nightclaw plunged through the familiar trees, recalling every paw step of the territory. As camp came into sight, she began to walk more slowly until she came inside.

The first thing she saw was Hazelflower peering out of the nursery with wide eyes. As Nightclaw came closer, Hazelflower hissed, “Don’t you dare attack me. I have kits.”

“I’d never attack you,” Nightclaw lied. “Where’s the rest of the clan?”

“Patrols,” Hazelflower answered, meeting Nightclaw’s deep blue eyes with her own amber ones. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been on a little bit of a quest,” Nightclaw inched closer to the nursery, “are you the only one in camp?”

“Yes, I am. Where you on this quest alone?” Hazelflower questioned, looking weary.

“Nope, in fact I was with a few true friends. Friends who would never go after a cold-blooded murderer.”

“Silverstripe is not a murderer!”

“Explain how he killed Blossomkit. Was that an accident? Attacking a defenseless kit?”

“He had just become a warrior! It was his first battle patrol as a warrior!”

“So he thought he would be so great by attacking and killing a harmless kit!” Nightclaw’s words became furious yowls. “Have you gone blind? He’s evil! He’s a monster! He killed our sister, and you go off and have kits with him! Tell me there’s not something wrong!”

“Silverstripe saved my life. He’s done everything for me. He’s apologized for killing Blossomkit, you know,” Hazelflower told her, rage smoldering in her eyes.

“I don’t care if he crawls to my paws and begs for mercy,” Nightclaw’s eyes became cold. “I will not rest until justice has been served.” With that, she slunk behind Hazelflower and darted into the nursery.

Three little kits were curled up in a nest. One was a little cream she-cat with white paws and chest. Another was a silvery-grey tabby tom. And another was a mini-Silverstripe.

Before Hazelflower could stop her, Nightclaw flung the mini-Silverstripe across the nursery. Blood gushed from the places that Nightclaw had attacked as it hit the floor, dead.

“You murderer!” Hazelflower screamed. “You’ve killed my kit!”

“I’ve just done what Silverstripe has done to Blossomkit.” Nightclaw narrowed her eyes. “Do you still love him?”

“Yes, I do. But I hate you, Nightclaw. You’ll pay for this.”

“What if I was Silverstripe?” Nightclaw demanded. “Would you still hate me?”

“Silverstripe would never hurt the kits!” Hazelflower yowled.

“He would never hurt kits? Explain. What. Happened. To. Blossomkit.” Nightclaw lunged for Hazelflower and pinned her down on the nursery floor.

“You love the cat that I’ve always hated. You’ve had his kits. You deny everything that he has done.” Nightclaw placed one paw on her neck. “I hate you.”

“All this time I’ve been waiting for you to see that he’s not the cat you think he is. If he was the cat that killed Thornkit, would you hate him?” Nightclaw didn’t wait for an answer. “No, you wouldn’t, because you have no heart.

“Do you know all of the pain I’ve went through? Do you know how hurt I was? Do you know how I was driven to do this? It was all because of Silverstripe. All because of that, I am not the cat I could have been. I am the cat I am now. I’m the cat who lurks in your nightmares. I’m the cat who killed your kit. All of this was to get revenge on Silverstripe.”

“He’s apologized, Nightclaw! Forgive him! Have enough heart to forgive him, and become a nice cat!” Hazelflower spluttered.

“I’m sorry, maybe my heart broke when I was flung across the nursery.” Nightclaw unsheathed her claws just enough so that her claw tips were piercing Hazelflower’s neck. “Do you see now what love can do? Can you see?”

“Get off of her!” Nightclaw ducked as the expected black and white shape flew over her head and landed clumsily on the ground.

“Patchfur.” Nightclaw stepped off of Hazelflower. “What brings you here?”

“Get away from my mate and get away from my kits,” Patchfur hissed. “Don’t touch them!”

“Hazelflower doesn’t love you, you know. Those are not your kits. They are those of a RiverClan murderer named Silverstripe,” Nightclaw explained smoothly.

“I don’t care whose kits they are. I love Hazelflower. That’s all that matters.” Patchfur unsheathed his claws.

Nightclaw unsheathed hers. “You foolish tom. You foolish, lovesick, tom.” Nightclaw sprang at him, quickly wrestling him to the ground and pinning him down.

“I hope you know now what love can do. I hope you now know that love isn’t worth anything.” With that, Nightclaw gave a quick slice to his throat.

Nightclaw turned back to Hazelflower. “You’re lucky that wasn’t your fate. Now, do you dare defy me again? Or will you go along with the story that a fox came in, killed your kit and Patchfur?”

Hazelflower shuddered. “D-Don’t hurt me, and don’t hurt my kits, and I’ll do as you ask.”

Nightclaw smiled. “Perfect. Now you know just what love is. A cruel, bitter, stupid thing.”

Nightclaw padded out of the den. Patrols were returning. It was time that she broke the news that a kit and Patchfur were dead. As Nightclaw was contemplating what she was going to say, she spotted something on the edge of the camp. Creeping closer, she noticed it was a flower, its bright orange contrasting to the snowy white of the camp.

Suddenly the flower burst into blue flames. In shock, Nightclaw stumbled back, grabbed some snow, and flung it onto the flames. Immediately the flames died out, leaving the flower, broken and dead, in a blue pool of water.

“Flowerblaze,” Nightclaw whispered. She backed away from the flower and ran out of camp, determined to find Flowerblaze before this danger could strike.