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The moon was almost full and silvery light filled the sky. Moonlight shone onto the overgrown grass in front of the abandoned hospital. The merry glow of the moon did not reach the inside of the place. It was dark and dirty white walls were peeling paint. The old twoleg equipment were broken and dusted over as the moons had passed. It almost looked normal - well, as normal as an abandoned place could be - except for the smudges on the ground that formed the telltale sigh of many paws.

The hospital was small. It had been abandoned moons ago, and the stench of twolegs had faded away. It was dead silent except for the eerie sound of water dripping from a pipe.

"We have a new client this night." A voice floated out of a room near an old hospital table. It was square and big, with moonlight shining through a window and lightly touching the ground. The voice was smooth, sleek, snake-like. Quiet but firm, with an undertone of something sinister.

The voice came from a cat with sleek black fur. One of her eyes was scarred and half-closed. The pale milky white that showed inspired fear in the strongest of cats. Her legs were long, her body slender but muscled. Her sly smile did not go to her amber eyes. She stood in the middle of the square room in a beam of slanting moonlight.

Next to her sat a graceful black tomcat with yellow eyes. His face was pointed, like the molly standing next to him. His tail was stubby and short, cut close to his haunches.

"Fitheach, Beanna, who will you task?" An eager murmur swept the room as several cats stepped from the shadows. They all had black pelts, all of them like the two authority.

"Hush," the she-cat, Fitheach, whispered. "I have not yet explained who the client is." She straightened, rising to her paws. Beanna sat stone-still beside her, his eyes unmoving from the doorway.

"The client is me. Beanna has been spying on this.... gathering of cats. I believe they are called...?" She glanced over at Beanna.

"A Clan," Beanna grunted. His voice was smooth, with a hard edge. "They are a society of cats."

Fitheach flicked her tail nonchalantly. "Yes, a Clan. He overheard this small kit talking to an old cat about us. We've been watching this Clan ever since Lupine died. This... sprite ...visited me in my dreams and told me she had passed. I thought I was hallucinating, but I went there the next day and saw it was the truth. Anyway," she continued, her voice a low purr, "this cat by the name of Robinpaw is going to try and visit us. He wants to know who Lupine is. Our beloved Lupine."

One cat stepped out of the shadows, his pelt sleek and glossy in the moonlight. "You mean to kill him?" he asked. His young, inexperienced amber eyes went wide.

"Yes, kit. He cannot learn the secrets of the Ghosts." Fitheach raised her paw to point him. "You have not killed yet?" she asked, her tone ice-cold.

The young tomcat shook his head, looking terrified.

"You are opposing me, are you not?" The kit let out a small whimper. "Since you do not wish this cat to die, you will be the one to kill him," Fitheach breathed. She walked over to him, her long graceful steps like that of a dance.

She swept her long tail around and lifted the tomcat's chin with it. "I want you to meet him in the forest near this hospital. The Clan isn't very far away, so I expect will you be able to meet him soon enough."

"H-how do you know when he's coming?" the tomcat murmured, his voice tight with fear.

"He is foolish and cocky, from what Beanna could tell me. He's going to rush right into here as soon as possible. Now go, wait in the forest until he comes. I expect it can't be too long until he comes."

Another cat stepped out of the shadows. "Please, Fitheach, do not let my son go. He's my only son, and his sisters are dead because of you. He can't go by himself - !"

In a flash, Fitheach was on top of the she-cat that had stepped forward, hooking her claws into the cat's throat. The she-cat stopped struggling and just gazed up at her leader with grey eyes filled with fear. "He cannot be a Ghost until he kills. I give you food and shelter. In return for your soul. Once you kill, your soul shatters. But I am still alive, and I have killed many. Does this not prove that one does not need a soul to survive? Now be quiet. Your son wants to prove himself, does he not?"

The small tomcat trembled as Fitheach's empty amber eyes searched his face. "I'm fine, mother. I'll be back soon with the body of this cat. I'll avenge my sisters. I can do this."

Fitheach narrowed her eyes, looking down her fox-like muzzle that the small tomcat. "If you fail, there will be consequences."