Note: I am trying to make this dark and not welcoming and warm like most Warriors fanfics. I want that eerie sense in it that makes people wonder what the heck this girl thinks about at night.
The tom slowly struggled up, his legs shaking violently as his eyes readjusted to the light. His vision was blurry; the shadows began swallowing up his eyesight again, and he gasped. He could not let the dark images engulf his mind again, the last time… Wait, when was the last time? What was he even thinking about?
His head turned straight down towards the dry, rocky ground. His paws were a light, pale brown color. The tom glanced around at his pelt, it seemed nice and clean. If he couldn’t remember anything, maybe he should start remembering that his former self cared a lot about how he looked…
His eyelids drooped, yet he felt alert and wide awake. Blinking he caught sight of a bright colored liquid on the ground. Sniffing it, he realized it was not blood, yet something foul and reeking of twolegs. His brain jerked to a realization. The tom looked at his surroundings; he let out a small, weak meow and heard the sound made louder by the twoleg made walls. The walls were amplifying the sound, not muffling it like he knew it would usually.
How did he know what twoleg’s nest would usually sound like? His memory was completed shrouded over with a fog that couldn’t be penetrated. The shadows were all around him, dark and mysterious; he couldn’t tell what the place was made out of. The ground was cold on his paw pads; he padded over to the wall, his whiskers brushing against it. Closing his eyes, he pressed his nose against it. The tom bounced back, the surface was freezing, yet it reminded his eerily of stone.
He descended further, what was there to lose anyways? He had no memory of who he was, or what he was doing here. The only thing on his mind was that he woke up on a twoleg made stone nest. The path was like a tunnel, like the one… Which one?
The ground was grassy, warm and welcoming below him. He stroked his cheek against the rough, gorse tunnel’s entrance. He looked up eagerly at a large, ginger tom with thick fur and a spiky tail. The cat smiled and nodded for him to go ahead. He scampered along, bursting into a large area, with cats sharing tongues, small kits squealing with excitement as they played with a ball of moss. The cats came to a hush as a broad, dark brown tabby steadied himself on a sharp, jutting out rock that seemed to burst out of the ground. The tabby looked straight to him; the small tom lowered his head, eyes still bright.
He gasped again, his breathing getting rougher, the darkness… It was confusing him. The memories scratched at his brain, making him ache. Was his life draining from him? Were the shadows attacking at his mere fragments of any sanity he had left? His pace picked up, his breath getting quicker, mind dry with the lack of thoughts to distract him.
He came to an abrupt stop, a bright light flickering ahead of him, cocking his head to the side he slowly trailed towards it. The light was just a glimmer on a shard of something shiny and flat. Was it twoleg rubbish? Maybe, but the tom would never know. His slowly pressed his paw to it. He let out a bloodcurdling shriek and fell to the ground. The darkness surrounded him like a dark snow, freezing and biting away at the last living bits of his life. All he could hear was the sound of pounding paw pads as his last trances of thoughts escaped from his head, and he fell unconscious.
“Are you alive? Son, what is your name?”
His eyes lazing opened, his head pounding. The shard… The shard! Where was the only thing that reminded him of the world he once knew? Well, if he ever knew a world before that is…
“Don’t black out again!”
The gasp was shocking and unpleasant to his ears. He felt as if the voice in front of him was desperately trying to get him up. What could he possibly want with a cat who was half-dead, and nearly insane?
He breathed deeply from his mouth, his eyes darting around to inspect his surroundings once more. The same cold stone, yet with a strange and unexplained warmth and dim light.
The tom caught sight of the cat; his fur was matted and patchy, one of his eyes clearly missing. Scars coated his pelt, his teeth stained yellow. The tom’s claws were unsheathed for no reason besides nerves. His dark green eyes glared at him, full of worry and anxiety.
He looked up towards the roof of the stone interior, there was a large hole, which if you jumped with the right amount of strength, you could just barely scramble out of it.
“You awake now?” He continues to persist, worry beginning to lack from his aged eyes.
“Y-yeah.” He manages to stutter out, figuring out that this was the first time he was ever able to speak since awakening what felt like days ago.
“Good.” The tom helped the other up, yet he struggled with standing and ended up collapsing again. The old tom gritted his teeth as the other sat up, his legs obviously weak, his eyes dark with confusion.
“Name, young lad?” His gruff voice asked in a calm tone.
“Name..?” Name..? Oh yes, name… What I am called. Wait, what am I called..? His thoughts trapped his mind, his empty and useless mind…
“You don’t even know your own name? That’s a shame, you must be pretty… Messed up in the head then.” The elderly tom let out a laugh. The laugh startled the tom; he wasn’t used to such sudden and loud noises.
The old cat realized he had frightened him, and his eyes got another worried glow to them. “You sure you’re okay, lad?” He asked softly. “When I found you here, all I heard you mumbling unsteadily about was how the shadows were sapping away something.”
“The shadows…?” The young tom asked blankly, and then his eyes glimmered with realization. “T-the shadows…”
“Oh, so I guess you see what I’m talking about now, don’t you lad? Some shadows or something, well here’s a new flash; there are shadows everywhere, son. There’s nothing to be scared about.” He smirked, his claws tapping uneasily against the stone floor.
He stood silent, and then looked up. “Are you going to help me out..?” He asked softly. The light was almost blinding to his eyes.
“No, I just decided to descend down a whole in a twoleg structure to just take a peek, and ditch whatever lies beyond.” He rolled his eyes with a snort.
The tom glanced to his paws, and then his gaze bore hard into the old tom’s eyes. “What is your name?” He asked sternly. The tom tapped his claws against the stone. “Darkeye,” he smirked.
“Not cruel if you lost your eye for something that brought honor to your Clan.” Darkeye got to his paws, his tail flicking back and forth against the cold ground.
“C-Clan…” The word settled in the tom’s mouth. Clan. It rang a bell deep in his head, which was usually blank of any memory or thoughts that required deep thinking.
“Yes, a Clan. RiverClan to be exact, if you want to get into specifics and all.” The elderly tom answered, his smirk turning into a slight smile.
The tom struggled up, finally regaining his leg strength, but just barely. “RiverClan?”
“Wow, you sure are out of it, aren’t ya?” Darkeye shook his head with a small sigh, and then looked back up to the tom. “RiverClan is a group of cats who are pretty much encased by an island, there’s a river, gorge, and a twoleg bridge. Not too much and not too little…” He trailed off, and began to murmur. “Except it was too much for a cat like me to stay in…”
“Nothing, lad. Let’s just see how to get out of here, shall we?” He turned eyeing the hole, and bunched up his legs, his body was close to the ground and it seemed like forever until he sprung off, scrambling up and out of the hole.
The small tom sat in awe, how… How was he supposed to DO this?