ShadowClan has never faced such an awful leaf-bare. But now, cats are starving and falling dead to a new illness. Desperate to survive this all and figure out what is happening, the ShadowClan medicine cat known as Hemlockfoot resorts to eating his...
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Hemlockfoot slipped out of camp before the sun had even risen, hoping nobody would even noticed his absence. Despite the darkness around him, he felt it would be another beautiful day. An even more wonderful thought was his upcoming meal.
The tom had not lied to his Clan when he told them he would be burying her far away from the camp to prevent illness. However, he was not going to bury her until he'd eaten. His hunger had become unreasonable the past few days, and as disgusted as he was with himself, he found it incredibly creative to use the dead like this to his own advantage.
A body was merely a vessel that the soul possessed, so what actual use was it once the soul has moved from the realm of the living to the dead? Why waste something so useful, especially during a crisis like this? Hemlockfoot really didn't seem to understand the issue with any of this, but he knew ShadowClan would never approve.
As he arrived at his small hollowed out log, he could see the spot he had buried Morningdaisy. Buried was a strong word though, as he had merely just covered her with snow and placed rocks atop the pile.
Dig! Dig! Dig faster! Must eat! Hemlockfoot thought to himself. I can't go another day without a good meal!
When enough of her body had been exposed, the medicine cat immediately began eating. He didn't care if he made a mess. He didn't care if he looked like a lunatic. All he felt was safe, stable, and in the moment. He felt he finally had some control over the world around him, even if it was just a little bit.
The sounds of breaking through her fur and into her flesh filled his head with joy. It was cold, and somewhat stale, but tasted wonderful nonetheless. After what felt like moons of hunger, he was finally satisfied. He wouldn't starve to death the way he had feared he would.
As quickly as he had eaten Morningdaisy, Hemlockfoot began thinking of ways and places to hide her. So far Scorchmask showed no interest in looking for her kit to dig up, but that was still a possibility and thing he should take into consideration. Knowing this, perhaps it would be better to leave her buried at the RiverClan border or thrown into the icy lake where she'd never be seen again.
"Where should you go?" he asked Morningdaisy, almost expecting her to answer him.
Take me to the Twolegplace border, Hemlockfoot imagined her saying. Nobody can get to me there!
"You're right," the medicine cat decided. "I should take you there."
• • • •
The walk through the dense pine forest was long and tiring. The sun had just barley risen above the horizon when Hemlockfoot was finished. He was lucky that Morningdaisy hadn't bled as much as he expected, otherwise it would have been more difficult to hide it. For now though, he had to come up with a lie to cover for himself.
Yesterday night I buried the body far from camp to avoid any diseases spreading. Unfortunately I stubbed my paw on a rock which caused some bleeding. No... that doesn't sound very convincing. Maybe some blood came back up. Yeah, that might be it. After all, the body needs to get rid of fluids, but nobody else knows that. Surely Rainpaw wouldn't since I never taught him anything like that. It is a good thing I didn't.
The tom found himself digging without much thought. The ground was cold and muddy from all the snow on top of it, but luckily not frozen. New-leaf would likely arrive soon, meaning he wouldn't need to keep this up for much longer.
I'm horrible for what I've done... Why don't I feel bad though? I feel sick but at the same time I feel so alive and powerful and creative. What is this?
He rolled the mangled corpse into the shallow grave. Glancing down at her one last time, he felt a sense of dread come over him.
"Nobody needs to know," he told the body as he began moving the mud and snow back over it.
Morningdaisy never replied. She couldn't. All she did was stare at him blankly, her now foggy and sickly eyes rolled into the back of her head. If she had been alive, perhaps she would understand. Sometimes the medicine cat wished she would have become his apprentice. She was very understanding and considerate of others, along with being responsible and honest. It wasn't that he didn't like Rainpaw... Rainpaw was just a tad difficult at times.
As soon as he finished, he rushed off on his way home, going the way he came hoping to cover up the dead cat's scent and freshen up his own. The less suspicious, the better.
"Where are you going?" asked a familiar voice.
Hemlockfoot stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around, waiting to see the familiar face of Morningdaisy. That had been her voice after all, right? Maybe she was coming to forgive him or give him advice. Except nobody stood there.
He turned around and almost walked face first into the bright and starry figure of the deceased she-cat.
"Wh-what do you want?" Hemlockfoot stuttered, his pelt beginning to bristle.
Morningdaisy circled around him, her pelt fading in and out of the world around him. "Why did you do what you did?"
Hemlockfoot's only answer for the StarClan warrior was a sharp wail. He took off, rushing through the ferns and brambles and shrubs. He didn't bother to see were Morningdaisy was at now. He just needed to get away and collect himself.
The medicine cat's paws hit something cold, and as soon as he realized it, the ice below him shattered. How did he not notice how open the world now was? And how did he not hear the voices of the patrol that had been calling him?
The last thing he said before he felt himself hit the icy water was a silent, "Help me."