The Head of the Snake [PLOT TOPIC]

Murkystrike blinked as Pyrik's face swirled in her vision, and she stumbled a bit as she turned around to fully face the tom and placed her chin gently on his head. "Of course. Take care of what you need, we'll wait for you. We've waited all these moons, what's a little bit longer?" A low purr rumbled in her chest, but it lasted only a moment before a coughing fit racked through her body. Straightening up again once the coughs subsided, she assured the tom. "We will share the truth with you the best we can, of course we do not know exactly how or why you went missing or what happened after, but we will help... And we will wait. I promise that." She murmured before turning back to Mistyfalcon and leaning back against his shoulder. She had said what she wanted, what she needed, and now she needed to get home.

As Dawnhawk fled, Bloodstrike sighed and looked around him. The violence seemed to have settled down as quickly as it had started. The cat he had tackled got up and fled. At one point, he would have chased after her with all of the fury of a lion. Not anymore. He looked at Blossomstep, though he flinched and tensed when she said his name again. His claws pierced the dirt below, waiting to have to fight again, but no pain ever came. No one attacked him. He didn't fully trust what he was witnessing.

Alive? Bloodstrike thought about that word for a moment. He remembered once more the night the Asylum came. He fought. He fell. He thought he'd died after that. Did he not? He stared at Blossomstep for just a moment longer and rationalized that he must be still alive after all... if she was in front of him. His mother would have joined Starclan in death... not gone to the Dark Forest where he would have.

The giant tom relaxed and retracted his claws.

"Nothing good ever came whenever I heard my name. I need to get used to it again." He explained, though his tone was flat and robotic. He was tired. So tired.

Mirae, still rooted to the ground, gazed around the clearing. The fighting had ended, Eris was dead. She didn't know what to think. She hadn't fought for either side, her inaction sourced in tardiness and indecision. Her clean, blood-free pelt contrasted from the others'. However, she appeared more as a clan cat. The porcupine pelt still hung behind her where the brambles had snagged it, and Mirae hadn't noticed it. But then, Ceres's voice snapped her out of her daze. Her eyes shot over to her sisters, and a warmth formed and helped melt the shock in her heart. She tore her paws from the ground and sprinted over to her sisters and greeted them with with a pained smile. Mirae let out a shaky breath. She hadn't really gotten to speak with her sisters, and had only heard that Shira had disappeared. And the smell emanating from her told the story.

"Roe? But- Asylum? Aren't we... clan? They lied to us." The pain still gripped her heart. Roe, Eris, Iniko... all of them had to have known. Roe was one of the cats Mirae saw at her late arrival to meet her friends. Her tail curled around her hind legs and her eyes turned to the ground. All she wanted was to stay with her sisters. Maybe they could meet elsewhere and not risk her former campmates' anger.

It was soon clear that Toad was no match for the group of warriors, even if some of them were in bad shape. Before long, the fight was one and Wisteriabloom took to searching the battlefield for anyone who looked like they needed help. But everything soon ground to a halt when a yowl cut across the fighting. She glanced around the clearing in confusion, but soon spotted the reason for the call. Beecloud. The Thunderclan warrior lay beside the Asylum Head's body, unmoving. The two of them lay there, and both showed no signs of life.

Thank you Beecloud. The forest will never forget you. May Starclan light your path. Wisteriabloom bowed her head in respect for a few moments, but didn't go over, and instead checked that all the freed prisoners were alright. She only realized now that she barely knew the fallen warrior. But it had taken him so little to earn her trust. Or maybe all she had wanted was freedom.

Shira was about to strike Casper again when she heard a body hit the ground.  This was battle, so she did not think much of it, until she looked at Eris' body on the ground, limp, expressionless, not moving.  She felt... strange.  She stood still, blinking, unable to move herself.  This almost seemed unreal to her.  The leader on the Asylum just laying on the cool hard ground dead.  Shira took a few steps back, to let the other cats know that she was no longer in the battle.  It felt like she no longer could fight.  She felt hope, an emotion that was completely new to her.  But somehow at the same time also felt pain, somewhat worse than she normally did.  Eris was the closest thing to a mother she had most her life.  Although her plan was to kill Eris herself the other day, if she was honest with herself she never actually would.  The leaders of the Asylum and the cats she grew up with were the the closest thing to family she knew she had.  Sure a sick, messed up family but still what she had.

Shira used Disengage, leaving the battle and using all of her SP

Shira stayed frozen in shock until her sister came up.  Her head quickly turn towards her sister and her mind quickly came back to reality and began to except it.  "I'm glad your okay." She responded happily, but still a little shook and sad.  "You are okay, right?  You did not get hurt or anything in battle, right?  If you did I'll make sure whoever hurt you feels five times more pain."  The last part was slightly a joke, but if anyone dared to mess with her sisters, that joke could become a reality, with her sisters permission of course.

Ceres called for Mirae to join them and Shira quickly turned to her other sister to examine if she was okay as well.  "I'm so glad you both are safe."  She sincerely told them.  She looked over at Eris' dead body.  Roe told them to tare some fur off of the former leader, but Shira did not know if she would be able to.  The one who hurt her her whole life by not telling her the truth, now was able to cause her pain one more time as Shira looked upon that same cat's broken body.

Then the hopeful part of the she-cat took over for a moment.  For once in her life she did not feel like she needed to be 'Shira the scout' or 'Shira the Asylum member' or even 'Shira assigned to Skyclan' she could just just be who she wanted to be.  For once in her life she could choose her next story.  She could be whoever she wanted to be.  She looked back at her sisters and simple said "We're free," before going to take a piece of Eris' fur and help those that are injured back to Skyclan.

Lightning simmered beneath his pelt, surging in impatient currents through his muscles as he watched them exchange pleasantries as though there was no battle on the line. The glitter still flashed in his eyes, content to wait as his paws flexed, wounds pulsing to the beat of his heart. His lip curled, ever so slightly - a hint of something almost bitter flashing in the fiery yellow depths of his eyes.

How touching.

But for now he stayed relatively motionless, every muscle loose yet primed for action. This wasn't about the battle, though the movement of the dance called to him - the dance of blood and death, pain and exhilaration. His claws flexed, expression darkening at Thalia's words, his eyes meeting hers with an absolute void of emotion detached from his snarl of before, though the fire still burned beneath.

"Can you trust what you know? ...So much blood has been spilled...."

Perhaps I have chosen to remain loyal to a lie. Perhaps I choose not to see - for those I, too, love.

Her words might have swayed him, her claws inconsequential - barely another shiver to the mat of his pelt. Griffon's, though - contempt boiled beneath his fur even as the tom lashed out, and he slashed his claws across the young cat's face, his snarl rumbling out into the night. "You wonder why we lied. Did you ever hear these Clan cats cry over your names at night - ever see your so-called parents wonder at your loss?" His eyes slid to the others around Thalia before snapping back to her, narrowing as his teeth glinted. "You have more reason than any, if you speak of blood, to stand with us. Yet you are the one who was first to forsake us."

A hint of thoughtfulness touched his expression for a moment, the pulsing darkness under his pelt held at bay for the moment as he regarded her. "Perhaps I can understand that."

Just as he took a step forward, baring his teeth with a rumbling growl, a sudden yowl slashed out into the night. Rising over the caterwauling of battle and cries of grief, it rose like a beacon into the air - a call to stop from a familiar voice. Roe? What is that kit doing now? Was he planning to stop these Clan cats with words? A quick glance was spared to spot the member of Theron's pack standing on the Great Rock, and he paused in disbelief.

Asylum defeated? Coldness - unwanted - touched chilling tendrils to the heat of his blood at the tom's words, the rich scent of blood rising like a tide, far stronger than it should have, catching his attention. Snapping his gaze towards the source, he felt his breath still in his lungs, the sight of Eris' death-still body confirming what the former Nightstriker had said. "No." Their leader, his leader, was dead. And Roe called for them to stand down. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his eyes locking on the patched pelt of the coward.

Who does he believe he is? We will not be defeated by something so simple as this. Something so... chaotic.

We cannot be defeated.

Yet others hesitated in their fights, or turned and ran, like sand slipping beneath his paws he watched them flee. Everything he had fought for dissolved - his brethren dissipating as though they had never held a bond at all. As though Eris had been the sole thing keeping them together. No. It can't be. They were more than this. They were Asylum.

He stood still, motionless. Then Katana's attack slashed at his pelt, and he flinched, twisting away from her blows as he'd been taught, minimizing their wounding effect, stifling pain at thorn-sharp claws. As he'd been taught....

Paws moving on rote, he defended rather than attacked, distracting thoughts and memories buzzing through his mind. Snippets of friends he'd fought with, other kits he'd grown with, laughed with as they sparred and fought to rise in their stations. A grizzled old tom, dulled blue eyes evenly staring back, uncaring of whether the kit that stood before him had been borne by a cat or a raccoon. "That all you got, kit?" That grizzled hint of a smile when he'd brought down the fox he now wore, worth more than any praise. Curling her lip into a snarl, yellow eyes flashing, Rift had called him soft for showing any hint of emotion other than rage. The old tom had taught him to care, had taught him to fight and defend himself. To never give in, to never give up.

...He had also taught him not to fight a battle that was unnecessary.

A memory of cold amber eyes came back to him again, disgust flashing in their depths. Her teeth glinting as she snapped at him. "You don't get to stop, milk-sop." Bitterness beneath the scars, showing in the contemptuous twitch of her tail as she turned. Cold and hunger, shivering next to fluffy pelts like his own.

They took me in when my own mother abandoned me.

Taught me when she gave up on us.

There had been one kind cat like a mother to him, though, a pained smile on her fluffy face as she turned to them, her voice soft as she murmured. Her tongue had comforted him as he cried, red weeping from wounds in his pelt, the cold eyes of his so-called mother looking on, a curl to her lip. That memory faded, deliberately let go as he turned his gaze to Katana, eyes unblinking as they bored into hers.

She spoke as though he were a kit making an error, her blunt words like an annoying fly buzzing at his head. Perhaps on another occasion he would have been impressed with just how willingly she met the gaze of a monster like him this directly, her eyes like flint. Perhaps he would have admitted the sentiment of truth behind her words. It was over. Though he had fought, they were finished.

Live my life however I want it.... Only a hint of amusement came with the thought, a flicker through the draining of emotion like blood spilling from grievous wounds.

"It's too late for that, dear Katana."

His heart pulsed, blood beating strongly through his veins, slow as the rage that gradually filled them like a burning fire. Flowing red-hot, it surged like agony as claws deliberately slid from his paws - the glint of his teeth showing again, muscles rippling beneath the fox pelt. In a quiet moment between the cries slowing around them, it slid from his back, falling softly as a sigh into a heap at his side and revealing his own thick, lightly curled fur, swirled dark markings accenting the dull flame of colour between. His breath came in even puffs, head turned down and eyes unreadable as they stared at the blood-spattered ground, glowing like fire, flickering hatred welling in their depths.

"Far too late...."

A small part of him cried - he could hear the wails of a young kit, desolate and abandoned, shivering for love and finding no hint of warmth.

I want to stop.

His breath whooshed in and out, ending in a quiet sigh that welled up from the pit of his lungs and escaped like an ethereal wisp of mist into the bitter air. Slowly, a sound like a chuckle - strangled and twisted as the smile that gradually curved at his maw - started deep in his chest, a bass rumble that had once held a hint of warmth to it. A mere, faded memory. Bitterness, rage, hurt. He was the throbbing darkness, a monster he had been created to be.

You can't.

His head snapped up, the glowing molten amber of his eyes focusing on a calico pelt, on her face. "All of you are the reason why everything is like this. Naive. So naive. You know nothing." His voice was unrecognisable, teeth bared black and glinting in the dark light. The fox that had slid off his back was no longer needed - he resembled it more without the heavy weight dragging his body down. A rumbling snarl savaged the air, reverberating in every molecule as he leapt forward, claws deadly and aimed in absolute precision. The very night shivered as though he had drawn it to himself, blazing in the uncanny flames of his glare.

"A villain? Oh, my dear, do you know who you're talking to?" His voice came in a growling purr, claws slashing out and dancing to the throbbing beat of his heart. Their own attacks made no difference; he reveled in the feel of red wounds opening, the scrapes against flesh felt only as sparks of lightning to drive him on. Compared to the ease he showed now as he twisted around her blows and shoved Katana away - eyes alive, pulsing darkness and glinting with absolute savagery - before he had been sluggish and uncommitted. Now he was a living shred of the night, unstoppable. "I didn't happen to become a Nightstriker because of my size or pelt, young kits."

Yet he didn't intend to kill. Not them. No. That was reserved for the one. And as he shoved the others away, muscles rippling beneath his pelt and claws dripping red - making sure they wouldn't distract him for now - he turned upon her, his entire form reeking something frighteningly feral.

Thalia.

You were the one who spoke first. You will be the one who becomes the first to fall.

She couldn't avoid him. His massive form leapt forward, darting quick as a snake to bowl her over, one paw on the soft fur of her throat. For a still moment he stood above and simply stared down into her eyes as his claws gently rested on her skin, barely pricking at the pulsing flesh. A flicker of sadness passed over his expression, a soft smile curving at his lips as he leaned down close to her face and breathed, "Don't worry, my kit. I'll hold you closer than breath is to breath, and beat is to heart."

His paw raised, glinting, wet claws primed to split skin neatly as a pelt was slipped from a rabbit.

"Yes, I'm fine, don't worry about me." Ceres made a hasty attempt to reassure Shira.
It wouldn't be a lie to say that the she-cat simply felt tired. There was a bit of pain, but it was nothing that required immediate attention. There were a few cats in the clearing that would never have the ability to wake up ever again, and a few would be left would battle scars that would never fade, and so Ceres decided that all she could do now was be grateful that she hadn't ended up like one of them.
"Yeah... yeah, they did lie to us," Ceres turned her head slowly to glance at Mirae, sinking her claws into the dirt in an attempt to hide the sudden rush of resentment that she felt towards the Asylum, "but we can't just leave the others without any other words, right? As in, the others that were taken? Plus, I wanna know what Roe has to say. I'll see you in a bit."
With that, Ceres rose to her paws and quietly followed after Shira to head back to SkyClan for, perhaps, what would be the final time.

The clawing dread was back. It was back in full force too. Katana had never felt a feeling hit her in such a strong way. It was making her head foggy and her fur stood on end. It was as if what little warmth that had been present that very moment had been drained to make way for the unforgiving cold that encompassed the feeling of hatred and apathy. The way the tom stood his ground against their attacks didn't sit well with her. It seemed like every strike and slash were fueling his drive and making him stronger. She doubted there was much of a soul left behind those cold, piercing eyes. The moment she took a good look at him, she knew there was no saving him. It was too late. There was no way to dissuade him from whatever plaguing thoughts were bouncing around in his head. No way to offer solace for what pain and misery he had carried with him throughout his life. It made Katana almost feel a pang of... something. Almost. Perhaps she had almost felt pity for the tom before her. The crazed glint in his eyes caused her to feel that something.

All those feelings vanished the moment Cleft Spyre spoke. His words caused her nothing but chills and anxiety. She felt her tail thrashing behind her and her claws raking the ground beneath with a tense force. Her cold gaze nearly faltered as he bared his teeth with such dark malice. He was up to something and there was no doubt about it. He was faaar gone. Whatever sanity he had left had vanished without a trace. That scared her. She wasn't going to show it but she was certainly feeling it.

"!" Katana felt her whole being fill with horror as she was suddenly shoved away from Thalia's side without the tiniest of warnings. She scrambled back up to her paws and snapped her head to witness the terrifying scene that was playing right before her glazed eyes. Fury and rage burst from deep within her as she saw Thalia pinned beneath Cleft Spyre, his paw right on her throat. She couldn't hear what he was telling her but that didn't matter as Katana wasted no time in ramming herself against the monster at full force. She took a tumble with him, claws digging ever so painfully into his skin. As soon as they stopped, she slammed his back against the unforgiving ground below and snarled. Her normal icy green gaze was replaced with a furious look so powerful that it almost seemed like her eyes were gaining a shade of red. It would be fitting since it was the only color she could see right now. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was trembling with rage. It was over for him.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" She roared as she sunk in her claws more into the cat below her. "You forfeited your life the moment you touched Thalia." Katana pressed her weight even more as to not allow Cleft any way to escape. "You disgust me you fox-hearted monster. You will no longer plague us with your vile presence. Be glad that I will strip you of your life quickly. Do not take it as mercy for I have none left for you. I just wish to go back to Thalia as soon as I can and check up on her." The she-cat sneered at him and lowered her face at his ear before whispering, "You should've ran." The fawn-colored cat wasted no time in forcibly pushing his chin back and sinking her strong jaws into the soft, vulnerable flesh of his throat.
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It was over before she knew it, yet, it had felt like an eternity that she had her teeth buried into the tom's neck. Katana shakily let Cleft's body go and she stumbled back. Her lower jaw ached and trembled from having had a tight hold. Her vision swam as she slowly dragged her paws back to where the others were, green eyes devoid of any emotions. Her whole body was slumped. She felt exactly as she looked, ragged and tired. She felt sick. She had just killed someone. She's never done anything like that. She's never felt such strong anger like that. It scared her. Sure it was for Thalia but that still didn't wash away the horrid feeling that was swirling deep within her gut. Cleft Spyre's blood was still in and on her mouth. She couldn't help but shiver at the taste. She tried her best to not think about what she had done but it kept pushing to the forefront of her mind. She was definitely going to have nightmares about this.

As soon as she had reached Thalia, her mind went blank. She shakily yet firmly pressed her head to the she-cat's shoulder. She didn't say anything. She just allowed herself the pleasure of feeling her other half still breathing and alive. She almost lost her. She almost lost Thalia. If she had frozen up even for a moment, her best friend wouldn't be here anymore. Katana felt the most relieved she's ever been at that very moment.

"Thalia... Oh gosh Thal. I-I almost... y-you almost... please never leave me." she croaked as she pressed her whole body against the she-cat beside her. She didn't care who saw her now. The only cat that mattered was right there beside her, still alive. That's all she cared about. She could finally relax now that she knew Thal was safe. That the others were safe. That she was safe. It was done. It was over.

Thalia knew fear. Thalia knew fear from being told, indirectly, about her own pending execution. She knew fear from the rage of the WindClan cats she'd met. Now, she knew fear as someone she'd trusted pinning her down, as claws pressed to her throat and poised to strike. She knew fear in every whispered word of a threat that seemed to be half a consolation - for her, for him, she wasn't sure, it was all blending together and all she knew was that this would be the last thing she ever saw.

She considered her last word, since she doubted she'd be able to manage more than just the one. She had to make it count, couldn't risk disappointing whoever might be listening.

And then - salvation, as someone came to her rescue.

Katana.

Because of course it was Katana - her other half, her best friend - who would save her. Every word from her partner was a rush of relief, a knowledge that she could still rely on something - that her faith was not misplaced, when the love and the trust she'd placed in the cats she was raised with had been her salvation.

She didn't trust her own voice, so she simply returned the weight pressed to her side, trying to convey a message in perfect silence.

I'll stay.

The fear in her eyes shimmered, and for a moment he was almost sorry as his claws came down, brushing fur and seeking flesh-

Impact. A sudden whirl, Fourtrees and the he11 they'd created there spinning, glimmers of red and swirls of dark, unmoving fur. With the strength of fury, claws ripped into his pelt, tearing at his throat and stabbing deep. With a snarling growl, he twisted against it, the both of them tumbling on the ground, hot blood pouring over the earth in bright streaks. The pain throbbed at his body, pure exultation that turned to agony writhing under his skin, a grunt torn from him as he slammed onto his back, sight wavering for only a split-second before focusing on Katana, fury burning in her eyes. Her voice hissed in his weakening ears, her claws tight in his flesh.

The world slowed, the rest of the clearing fading away to this small, still bubble of a moment. His heart beat in his chest, his eyes staring mutely back up at her, molten amber locked on her furious gaze, waiting. Waiting. Anticipation, slow as the sludge-like beat of his heart. He could feel it - this moment. He knew it; had waited for it.

In a way, it was interesting it should be Katana who brought it.

Locking his own flaming gaze to hers, he let a slight, twisted smile grow on his maw, showing glinting teeth - practically mocking her, daring her to drive her teeth in. And yet beneath it that sadness lingered in the depths of his eyes. The stone is cast. And now for destiny.... A faint, hissing laugh chuffed from his throat at her whisper, a flicker of contempt in the hoarse rasp before his breath cut off. The feel of teeth slid into his throat, punctures driving agony like venom into his veins, hot fluid pouring from his body and clotting in his mouth.

He coughed and shuddered as she released him, the metallic taste spat from his maw, darkening sight catching her stumbling back. "If I had run... I could not have... died...." His voice gurgled, the bass rumble constricted and faint, the stream of blood now a bare, sludging trickle as his heart fought to pump without a supply of its own, the pain of it slowing in his chest. "...And that... my... dear.... Was the point...."

Voice fading, the world slipped away, darkening as she turned away in horror back to the others, the light fading from his eyes. A final, whispering breath stirred his sides, and then fell still, the yellow of his gaze dull in the faint crack that showed between his lids.

And the massive tom became just another limp form in the clearing, a faint breeze stirring the still fur of his pelt.