His paws crept closer to the den, each step lighter than the last. Breath caught in his throat, the apprentice made sure that he was undetectable through the cloud of night. Silent like a fox, blending into the black was he, determined to break the dark night with his own claws. A silver slice throughout the night. The only he could think that would stop him was the ever-growing pounding of his heart.

It's time, no more hesitating, he declared with a gleam in his eyes. All of the planning was going to pay off here and now. He was ready. He had to be ready.

His claws slid out of place once he set foot in the den of his leader, Brightstar. Spotting the almighty cat that could order war with a single command and destroy his plan made the rage inside him grow stronger. Fueled by power, he repeated the plan. If he were to screw up now, then it meant the past moons were all for nothing. There was no more room for failure. Stick to the plan, and then all will be resolved and Brightstar would be dead.

Memories of Finchpaw began to fill his head, blocking out the present and forcing him to swim through the past. A fragile, dirty-golden pelt shaking as her ears were opened to his final move. Eyes as wide as the moon, Slatepaw could only imagine the things that went through her head at that moment. Finchpaw stared at him with those wide, green eyes of hers, listening to his final move - and how she was apart of it.

All she has to do is stand guard as I do this. She had agreed to his terms, and he set off. This way, if a cat spots us, she'll warn me so I can escape or pick up the pace.

Enough of this.

He shook his head, unleashing his claws, the tiny scraping sounds filling the quiet den. Brightstar was still sleeping, unaware of her fate. Heart thudding against his chest, the gray tom froze once again, his mind seeming to do everything in its power to prevent him from killing her. As much as he tried to fight off his worries, they only came back twice as hard. Slatepaw flattened his ears to his skull, hoping that would seal off the anxiety each thought had. It was enough to make him back down like a frightened kit.

Seeing Brightstar sleep peacefully in her nest while his mind ran around freely made his rage increase. He wanted nothing more than to sink his claws in that pelt of hers and see the blood flow out and paint his paws. That was what needed to happen. He was the good guy.

So why was his mind fighting him?

If Brightstar is killed, then we can all be free! Democracy! Every cat in this Clan will be free! We'll no longer be puppets under that malevolent she-cat's paws! Cats will be free, safe! The moment Brightstar dies... The moment Brightstar dies... The moment Brightstar dies...!

I've been planning this. Cats have my back. They agreed to this. It's all on me. Kill Brightstar. Kill Brightstar. Kill her! He lifted his paw to take another step forward; one step closer to democracy. His body was as light as feather floating in the wind. All it took was a few more steps. He could practically taste the victory on his tongue.

"Remember what?"

Those words stopped him in his tracks. As if his mind were eagles, they swooped down at the weakened apprentice, tearing away at him and exposing his fear. The words echoed in his head, drowning out the sound of his heart. Eyes wide, he shook his head, doing his best to deny the fact his supporters had said those words to him after moons of preparation. No matter what he did, he couldn't block out those two, dreaded words.

"Remember what?"

"Remember what?"

"Remember what?"

What if the cats were right? They claimed he was crazy when he snapped. They completely disregarded him and his ideals in that one night. Even Finchpaw seemed unsure about him - he was relieved when she agreed to this night's event. The voices in his head became louder and soon, unbearably loud; so loud that he thought Brightstar would awake. Walking over to her sleeping figure, he stood above his leader. His victim.

No. It was the others that didn't understand his pain, his ideals, his truths. Everything he had spent the past moons on was for democracy. It was for them. It was to free them from the rule they were imprisoned in. He had spent most of his apprenticeship on them. Why didn't - why couldn't they see that? Were they just blind? His goal was to open their eyes and let them see the world through his own eyes.

Pressing a paw on Brighstar's mouth, he unleashed his claws.

It's time, his eyes lit with fury.

Fall.

Like cutting through prey, his claws sliced across Brightstar's neck in one, swift movement. Blood poured out of the wound, draining away her life like a flowing river. Her eyes snapped open and she tried to scream, but the paw over her mouth muted her protests. The more she struggled, the more he attacked. Blood began dripping into the nest underneath her as she fought against him. Seeing her struggle made him stronger, and he slashed harder until she fell limp.

His excitement only grew as she began to stir again, her energy slowly returning to her as her next life began. Once again, he repeated the same process, claws scoring across her body. His paw shook as she jerked about, doing everything she could to stop him. It was too late for that, all he had to do was continue his work. His heart nearly exploded when she fell limp again, eyes shutting to show her second defeat.

The next one came by faster than the last. Before she could even get up, Slatepaw slashed again, more of the sticky, red liquid coming out of her. When Brighstar awoke again, the only sound that came out of her mouth was a raspy, gurgling noise. Blood came out of her mouth when she coughed, falling silent not even ten seconds after she awoke. If the same thing happened the two times, then he would be done. Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes...

The fourth one wasn't as enjoyable to see. Barely able to put up a fight, Brightstar only struggled to see her killer. The horror and rage captured in her eyes, however, gave Slatepaw a boost of energy. With the wounds already painting her neck, she could only stare at him with all the hate in the world. He slashed his claws across her neck again, his claws gliding over the other wounds he had inflicted. The leader gave another jerk to shove him off. Even if he removed his paw, he knew that she couldn't muster enough strength to call for help. His entire body began to shake and his heart pounded on his chest with the strength of a sledgehammer when she fell down, marking her final life.

One more. One more. One more!

For the last life, Slatepaw sprang, sinking his teeth into her neck, opening another wound on the back. The taste of her blood gave him power and surged inside of him. The leader hung in his jaws like a dead bird, helpless without its wings. Brightstar struggled to call out for help and he slammed his paw over her mouth once again. She couldn't call out. Not when he was this close to victory. The best of his heart was as loud as thunder, and he hoped that she could hear it with what little strength she had left, knowing that he was succeeding and she was failing.

One last jerk. One last breath. One last growl. One last twitch. One last life.

Slatepaw's eyes glimmered with power when Brightstar finally fell still. He did it. He won. Victory was his. He could hardly contain himself now with his final enemy eliminated from his plan. She was gone and nobody was in his way anymore. Cats were free again. There wasn't any more of Brightstar's rule.

He let out a yowl of triumphant that pierced the night sky, all of his hard work finally paying off in this very moment. Everything he had worked for was completed.

He hurried over to the exit and saw the deputy and the entire Clan waiting for him. His heart fluttered when his gaze swept through all of them. He forced himself not to falter when he didn't see Finchpaw amongst them. He'd find her later. Now was the time to celebrate. The entire Clan was out here to cheer him on. It was a moment worth waiting for.

"He killed Brightstar."

Slatepaw's eyes sought out for the cat who had said that. For a split second, he was finally able to breathe. Finally, he was free. Finally, the entire Clan was free. All thanks to him and his rebellion. He couldn't have been happier. This was what he was waiting for. Victory.

The spell is broken!

What happened next, he was unable to comprehend. With his mind stuck in his fantasy and his eyes blind from the pride, the apprentice didn't react in time before cats swarmed into him and licked their claws into his pelt. Pain from every side burned him, slowly snapping him out from the fantasy he desired to live in. Cats dug their thorn-sharp claws into his pelt, ripping away fur, flesh, anything the could reach. Blood flew out of him like he was a victim to a hungry fox. If he even had a chance to gather a single thought together, it was only clawed away by another cat in their rage.

Buried underneath the mass of cats, he felt his life sucked out of him under the light of the moon. His strength against the Clan was nothing. Fear began to prick at his heart, wanting to fight back. It was useless; his oxygen was getting cut off by familiar pelts. The claws dug into him, drawing more of the scarlet liquid. Slatepaw could barely understand the situation with this much chaos around him. Then, there was a slice to the neck which was then covered by more scars. He felt a sharp pain and tried to cough, but the lack of space made it impossible.

Wait...

A flash of red lay before his eyesight.

I...

His heart began to slow.

"F-for democracy!" He choked out beneath the mass of cats.

Silence echoed throughout his empty mind. For once, he felt peaceful. Rather, perhaps not peaceful. Perhaps it was more so just simply empty. Nothing and nobody needed him. What was happening outside his mind...? A battle? A sea of red, cats throwing themselves over one another to drown one, single cat.

F-Finchpaw...

Finchpaw...

Finchpaw... Where did you go...?

Written by Solstice
Edited by Lamb