Oakfur's revenge

Ch. 5

Oakfur barred his fangs at a dark striped cat. His eyes flashed angrily. The striped cat reared up and hissed. It clawed at Oakfur's face. Oakfur cried out in agony. Red. Red everywhere. Pain. Blood. More pain. Oakfur stumbled back, his eyes pouring blood. His head pounding, like his brain was trying to escape. His sides were burning. The striped cat batted at his stomach, drawing more and more blood. Fur. Fur everywhere. Oakfur howled in pain. He tripped backwards and lashed out randomly. His vision blurred. Everything seemed distant. Except the pain. The pain was there, constant. His vision darkened, red then black. Then he couldn't see anymore. He blinked his eyes, it didn't do anything. He opened them wider. Darkness. He howled in horror. He was blind. He lashed out and felt his claws connecting to something. A cat hissed. Then a blow to his head. He struggled as a jaw gripped his neck. Teeth sunk into his skin. His energy sapped out.  But the cat let go. No, please no. End it, please. The cat left him there, bleeding, dying, the pain flaring through his body, the only thing he was aware off. Then something clawed at his stomach. His skin opened, blood poured out. He lurched, puked blood. The pain was there, constant agony. End it. Please. The cat watched. Blind, fear, pain. Finally, the cat took Oakfur's neck in his jaws and Oakfur's energy sagged. He hung limp, in the cat's jaws. The cat let him go and padded away. And there in the middle of the battle, lay a striped tabby cat. Tigerleaf. 

Oakfur jumped up. His body was burning up and he felt light headed. He moved towards the entrance of the warrior's den. His head was pounding, as if the dream were real. Then he realised it was, for another cat..., Tigerleaf. He'd seen Tigerleaf die. He had felt Tigerleaf died. He shuddered, the memory, the fear of going blind, of never seeing light again, never seeing again. He thought how scared Tigerleaf must have been. And it was Wolfclaw's fault. Another cat slipped to his side. Not Dusklight. 

               "I'm so sorry for Owltooth and Tigerleaf. I know it was my fault and I'll never be able to express how guilty I feel," came Wolfclaw's voice. Oakfur spun around and growled. 

               "Do you know how he died?" hissed Oakfur. "Do you know how he died?" Oakfur advanced on Wolfclaw, fur bristling. Wolfclaw backed away. He gave a weak shake of the head. 

                "Your cats, one of your cats blinded him. And then tore his stomach out and let him slowly die," growled Oakfur. Wolfclaw took a step back. Everyone knew if you wanted to kill a cat, don't rip his stomach out, it would be a painful, most times, slow death. And don't ever ever blind a cat intentionally. Blinding a cat was, in a way, worst than killing one. Wolfclaw looked down.

                 "Who did it?" he whispered. 

                 "You tell me," hissed Oakfur. 

                 "How did he look like?" asked Wolfclaw. 

                  "He was striped, dark, big, muscled," said Oakfur. 

                  "Clawfang," whispered Wolfclaw. "It was Clawfang." 

                   "And it's because of you," accused Oakfur. He couldn't stand facing a murderer or he might jump on Wolfclaw at any moment. He slipped into the warrior's den and curled up angrily in his nest. He closed his eyes. Took deep breaths. He heard Wolfclaw pad back inside. He bit his tongue. He pushed the anger down enough for himself to fall into a troubled sleep.