Twelve Days

Twe lve Da ys " twelve days till death, twelve days for you to learn how to live "

Before
WindClan was a tethered beast about to set free. It had never been one of the more powerful Clans, but after easy winters and many births, it was primed and ready. The warriors were strong, the prey was plentiful, and morale ran high. It only took a headstrong leader in the form of Redstar to make them the feared Clan they had always strived to be.

The sickness comes slowly, disguised and seemingly harmless in the form a fever.

They did flourish. Under Redstar's iron will they took lands and made the others suffer. She was insecure and compensated with cruelty and hatred. She tried to craft an uncaring, cold facade for herself and showed no concern when the first warrior was dragged into the medicine den claiming he was burning.

''The second day, the fever cools. Deception, deception, it's calm before the storm.''

" Harefoot will return to his duties tomorrow," Goldensun informed Redstar. " His fever has gone down."

Redstar merely nodded to her medicine cat. " He'd better be. We need our finest warriors for the attack on ThunderClan tomorrow."

Goldensun wondered if there was a soul behind Redstar's eyes.

''The third day, the stomachaches start. A fire is lit inside the head, boiling, raging headache that cannot be stopped.''

Redstar studied the apprentices. They were lined up at the camp entrance, excited and nervous at once. Her warriors were pacing around them, firing off last-minute instructions.

" Is it safe?" Goldensun murmured. " To send off the apprentices."

" Of course. We need all the fighters we have. Are you sure Harefoot can't fight?"

Goldensun widened his eyes. " His head hurts so bad he can't see straight. To suggest he can fight is madness!"

Redstar snorted. " I was three moons pregnant when I fought in battle. He's soft, that's what."

''The fourth day, vomiting starts. Uncontrollable, violent contractions of the stomach. It can be subdued, but not stopped. ''

Injured cats came pouring through the entrance. They were streaked with blood but crying out in triumph. ThunderClan, the Clan that had so often thrown their weight around, was now pushed back.

Suddenly, a distressed wail broke out in the crowd. A silver queen looked up from the body of her son, Foxpaw. Her eyes glowed with anger. " Why would you send him out?" she screeched as Redstar. " He was seven moons old. Seven!"

Redstar ignored her. " Rest up," she growled. " We have to push them back more tomorrow while they're still weak."

Blackswan, Cloudsoar, and Fernpaw all had a fever. Redstar forced them to fight anyway.

''The fifth day, the patient is weak. They will have barely enough strength to lift their heads. They will refuse to eat so you must force them, or else they will die before sunset.''

" Redstar," Goldensun said tentatively. His leader looked up from where she'd been sitting rock-still in her den. " Five more warriors fell sick today. And Harefoot... I've never seen this before. You must let me go to the Moonstone and ask for help- I have never seen sickness like this."

" No," the leader growled. " I need you to treat wounds when we return tomorrow."

" But please-"

" No."

" You're working them so hard, Redstar!" he protested. " They are exhausted, hungry, and weak. You can't win battles like this."

" I can and will,' Redstar growled, as unmoving and heartless as ever.

''If the patient is still alive on the sixth day, they will become cold and hot at random intervals. You can do nothing except sedate them. Their bones will feel like ice or fire and you must leave if you cannot bear the sound of screaming. ''

Unearthly wailing sounded from the medicine den. Goldensun was hurrying back and forth, taking herbs from the cats who were coming in. Redstar flattened her ears at the sound and marched to the den, shocked at the sheer amount of vomiting, feverish cats inside.

" I'm burning!" Harefoot wailed, writhing in his nest. " And now I'm cold- I'm melting and freezing up all over again!"

" What is this?" Redstar demanded. Goldensun looked up, resent in his amber stare.

" I don't know. I've never seen this- so many cats sick and with no cure. I can't stop the vomiting. If you won't let me see StarClan, at least call off the attack tomorrow. Let them rest. I can't take it if more get sick."

Redstar's stomach twisted angrily. Giving up an attack meant allowed their enemies to recover. And what was all this screaming? It was fever, nothing more, those who felt pain were weak. " No," she said. " We must hit them relentlessly, or we will fall again."

''On the seventh day, their mouths will begin to bleed and vomit turn to blood. You must stop the blood from choking them as best you can, but do not let their blood touch you.''

Exhausted and worked to the bone, the latest patrol came through the entrance. They'd pushed RiverClan back even more and were grinning with triumph. Redstar's expression was as stoic and unchanged as ever.

" Do you ever smile?" Goldensun said with an edge. Redstar frowned.

" How are my warriors? Can they fight tomorrow?"

Goldensun curled his lip. " The ones in the medicine den are worse. I don't know what's wrong- now they're vomiting blood. As for the ones here? They can barely stand. Let them rest, Redstar, please."

The large ginger she-cat shook her head, unsheathing her claws with a growl.

''On the eighth day the fever returns with a vengeance. If the patient's temperature is too high, they will die. Angry, red welts will appear on their skin. You must not touch these, just calm the horrible itch to the best of your ability. ''

Redstar had won again- pushing RiverClan back even further. Now she came to the medicine den and recoiled at the stench inside. Goldensun looked up. He looked exhausted and grieved.

" They have welts now, welts I haven't seen before," he said, voice cracking. " I think they're... they're dying! And I can't save them!" a sob broke from the young tom's throat. Redstar growled.

" Stop wailing and do something! I can't loose this many warriors!"

Goldensun was about to retort when the patient behind him twitched feebly. Redstar's eyes widened in shock. Harefoot, her proud deputy, was now a skinny, shivering mess. Abruptly, the tom stopped shaking.

Goldensun looked up, eyes wide in terror. " He's dead!" he cried. " Harefoot is dead!"

''If the patient still lives on the ninth day, the welts will start to show signs of infection. You cannot prevent this. Sedate the patient so they do not attempt to scratch themselves. ''

Warriors began falling like flies. Mourning wails were a constant sound. Dusk and dawn bodies were being carried away to bury, far away from camp where the sickness couldn't spread.

Redstar had finally lost a battle. ThunderClan had pushed them back. Rumors of a great sickness in WindClan had reached their borders and given them a boost in moral. Redstar snarled to herself, striking the ground with her claws as she addressed the Clan.

" We cannot afford another loss!" she cried. " WindClan cannot be weak again! You all must find it in you to win, not for yourselves, not just for your Clanmates, but for everything this Clan has stood for since the beginning of time!"

The cheering of her warriors was overshadowed by the screams of dying cats in the medicine den.

''On the tenth day, the welts bleed and the patient is mostly unconscious. The pain is too great. You must give them water- they will not hold food so you must keep them hydrated. ''

" Why are they all sleeping?" Redstar demanded as she entered the den. Bodies were so packed sick cats were almost on top of each other. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the scent.

" I have to sedate them. They are in too much pain," Goldensun said, applying a poultice to the welts on one Fernpaw's flank. He winced at the sight of the pus-filled wound. " Please, Redstar, call of your attacks. I can't take this anymore!"

Something in her snapped. Her paws flashed out and tore into Goldensun's cheek, spilling scarlet blood on the floor. " You can, and you will! I am not sacrificing everything I've achieved on the whim of a spineless coward!"

Trembling, eyes filled with defiance, the medicine cat looked up. " From one spineless coward to another- yes, you- I can tell you one thing. You are not building WindClan up, you are tearing it down."

''On the eleventh day, the patient will start to scream. You must hold them still as they flail in agony, or they will surely hurt themselves even more. Do not let the welts or blood touch you. Do not bother to give them food or water if they do not request it, just stay with them and keep them company because- ''

The latest patrol came hurtling through the entrance. " They beat us back!" Featherswift wailed. She collapsed on her side, flanks heaving in exhaustion.

" RiverClan is coming!" Badgerclaw panted, eyes glazing over in his fever-induced exhaustion." And they're bringing ThunderClan with them."

Redstar yowled for silence and the panicked cries stopped.

" We'll make our stand," she called out, unsheathing her claws. " We will not cower-"

Like a tidal wave, rows and rows of cats swept into WindClan's camp. Her warriors were so few they were trampled underfoot. Queens, elders, all slaughtered. Even the sick cats were killed, but they welcomed death as an act of mercy.

''On the twelfth day, the Scarlet Death with claim them. ''

All dead. All but one.

As the ground turned slippery with blood, Redstar faltered. She took one glance at her Clan- eating alive by sickness, so weak they were tossed aside like mice. And the once-great leader turned heel and ran.

Why did she run? Because she was a coward. Because she could not bear to see her dream torn down in front of her, or perhaps because she was a leader in will, not in battle prowess. Perhaps it was because she feared death, after seeing so much of it. Perhaps it was she who was afraid of pain.

No one will ever know, not even the ginger leader who fled across the moor to the Twolegplace.

The Scarlet Death had claimed lives, yes. But she wondered if the real Scarlet Death was the one that came in a tide of death, in the form of blood soaking the moors she once proudly ruled.