FEAR THE DEAD [o, searching]

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  • He wanted kriffing answers. Anakin was furious, and his allies, the other Jedi Masters that took a form like himself, had advised him against it. Anakin shouldn't intervene, only watch. Only if he had to. He would do that much, but that didn't mean his rage was uncontained.

    Anakin's form wasn't as fleshed out here. No- this place, it was weak in the force, the Force moved like a cesspool of oil, bubbling vapid and dark, swallowing and staining anything that went into it. All it did was help his anger. The Dark Side- and Anakin was trying not to dip into it. No. To them, it was as if nothing was wrong. No storm clouds. No one being pushed over. No possessions. Just a ghost. He was better than that, now.

    A prison. He grumbled.

    He kept himself hidden, ghostly form invisible as he passed through the walls and into the interior. It was a maze to him, with the combination of cells, between actual cells and bedrooms and a perverted form of living. Anakin shook his head, feeling his mane move and let his paws touch the cement.

    He disturbed the stray hairs and the dust, at best.

    He shuddered as some cat passed through his ghostly form- they stopped briefly, and turned around, but shrugged as they saw nothing.

    He reached out into the Force- maybe he could track down Littlestar and observe her in whatever semblance of a hole she had crawled into here. Maybe she was cuddling chains. He wondered, briefly, if Littlestar's body had been burned at all in her death. He guessed, judging by the events now, she had not been.

    Anakin felt all the more grateful that his suit had been burned, now.

    He shook his head, lifting off his paws, and levitating off the ground, invisible form searching for Littlestar's shell, or where she had been cooked up in.

    Part of him, deep down, so far down he recognized it as Vader, was impressed. Anakin thought that what Vader did to Ivan had been despicable, taking advantage of the disabled for their powers, but this? This was something Vader would have never thought of. The Emperor, might have toyed with the idea, but Vader would have never done it.

    If Hawkclan didn't know before, they probably would now. He felt bad for them- their leader, one of the better ones (well, depending on who you asked- Anakin needed to remind himself that Littlestar was still a terrible person.) had been rebuilt, turned into a slave, rebuilt to serve her master, her Depur, to eat and kill for him, reduced to a few words and made to terminate- and she was grateful for it.

    Remind you of anyone?

    Anakin stopped. His paws resettled on the cement. He stared at the ground. He sucked in a breathe, a small pulse moving out from him- the only sign that someone was there, and levitated again, continuing on.

    Littlestar is dead. You're searching for a dead person. Anakin thought of the situation he was in now- and wondered if he was wasting his time.


    trigger warning

    Perhaps it was only fitting to find herself living inside a prison. Well, not even quite that. The quaters that Abathur kept her chained to where situated underneath the main prison. A basement, a lab. Terriffying and inexplicable things had occured to Littlesoldier down here. She didn't think about it. Her mind had been smart, for once, and formed a cement wall around the dark green memories of this place. Knives pushed into her skin, sounds of grunting, the feeling of skin splitting and things being put inside her brain- all hidden away. It was to protect her, of course. She was in the position that one more thing, one more tiny little thing would send her well past the point of no return. And yes, it was hard to believe she hadn't reach that edge already considering the fact she was a cannibalistic sadist attack dog but no- there was still something barely sentinent inside her and despite all that had happened, it remained, strong and true.

    The only thing that was keeping her intact, really.

    Today, Littlesoldier was down in the lab, chained to the tough metal pipes, well out of reach of Abathurs instruments and anything she could use to harm herself (which she did- often). He didn't want his little frankenstein to need more stitchings, did he? After the fight in Riverside, the feline had come back with several oozing wounds and sprains that needed immediate fixing. But the male had spun his web of magic and shortly after she was walking around, in her chains, as though nothing had happened. The feline had long since shut up about being let go and killing them all and all that repetive shit. Her muzzle was pressing into her paw, biting it, sucking it, imagining it was food she could actually eat without feeling a sharp sting of pain. "Eat." The former leader whispered, face molding into a confused frown as she heard something. Well, not heard. But she felt something, really. A breeze- a movement unseen. Maybe it was her heightened-zombie senses or maybe it was her need for something different in this current moment but excitement filled her at the prospect of someone coming down here. She pushed herself to weary paws and her teeth bared into a grin. It wasn't Abathur- no, he was light and quiet. Fast and cold. The one moving was not really.. touching the ground. She didn't know how she knew but she did. She just did.

    The little firecracker released a series of snarls and growls. "Yes, yes, yes!"





  • She was down under. Anakin could hear her. Or he just took a good guess. The lion’s paw resettled to the cement, and he took in a breath, melting through the floor. He passed through the cement, and passed another floor, flipping himself over until he was standing on the ceiling of a lab.

    She was alone, it looked like. Anakin gloated, paws touching the floor. He disturbed the dust still, and he was glad he couldn’t smell whatever was down here. Anakin, finally deciding that they were indeed, alone, attempted to make himself visible.

    The Force here. It was vile- picking at his unsettled anger and asking him to tear down the walls.

    His glowing blue form was a small nightlight, a whisp, something taking the vague form of a lion and full of wavy static- it was faceless and without skeleton.

    No. Even better. Focusing, he reformed his ghostly image, until he resembled a vague tiger, strong, and piercing ice blue eyes sticking out of the misshapen cloud. Maybe it was to protect his own identity. After all, if she spewed out about a ghost, why would they believe her mad ravings?

    He didn’t look a lot like Rick. No, the scars weren’t there. Maybe it was enough to trick her. He was silent, coming to the front of Little, right out of the reach of her chains.

    Maybe he should speak. Anakin was glancing over his shoulder, though. If anyone dared disturb them, Anakin would vanish. Like he was never here.


    It seemed that coming into this new life had it's consequences and asides from the obvious; lust for blood, constant hair trigger temper and whatnot- the biggest one of all was forgetting who she was. Who she was meant all the people she'd encountered in her life before she died. And she had forgotten them or rather, their faces had been swiped from memory. Not completely. But she didn't know that. It had briefly been awakened before- the locked up memories. Once in front of Lessa and the other in front of Shine. She had broken free for a simple second, tears leaking from her face, mouth open to speak to them before the darkness swallowed her back up and the feralness returned to make her body lunge, claws dancing.

    This time, she stood perfectly still asides from the excited twitching of her shoulders and paws. It had been far too long since company had made itself present. Abathur had left this morning and hadn't come down to give her lunch and certainly no one was taking her on a walk. And now someone was down there. They were hidden but she knew. Her fur stood on end and her tongue swiped her lips, ears erect. It finally took a shape and she was able to see the giant tiger that stood before her. She gave a ghastly grin, firstly pin pointing all the spots she could sink her teeth into. She hadn't yet noticed the blue eyes, her gaze simply roaming his body. Then she glanced upwards and stared at the piercing blue gaze. Her toothy grin remained but the rest of her faze froze, faltered. No, no, no. "No, no, no, no." She voiced her thoughts as per normal and took a step back, cowering underneath the stare that went right through her. Memories woke up, screaming, her brain was going haywire, searching in the black pits that seemed to be neverending. Searching for a name to this face- those eyes. Who? Who? She had no control now over her mind as it stretched and ripped apart every locked door in order to find the blue eyes and it did. The last door. Cobwebbed, racketty, unopened. It didn't hesitate in flinging open and she pranced into the light the door had to offer.

    Littlesoldier opened up her eyes. The tiger- missing scars, had legs- but those eyes had to be his. "Daddy?" Her little whisper changed into a childs one. She curled into the ground and wept under the seemingly scrutinizing gaze of her long dead father. "Dad. Daaaaaaaaaaaaddd." Oh god, wailing. She had never been awake this long, never felt free this long. She knew the darkness would come back and the doors would lock tight once more but right now, she had time. Short time, small time. A frown furrowed her scarred face and she looked back up at Rick- or who she thought was Rick. "Fr..-" What's the word- her brain was racking once again. "Free me. Free me. Escape. Me escape." Her head hurt at levels of pain she'd experienced only once before. But she didn't care- these words might free her permanently and that was all that mattered, right? Tears dribbled down her chin and she felt it surging back up her throat and her body- darkness. Darkness, darkness-

    It's back.

    A crooked grin took to her maw, exposing yellow teeth and discolored gums. "Eat you!"






    Riverclan - male - 5 years

    Anakin- Rick’s eyes narrowed. Scrutiny. Disappoint. Irritation. The shifty figure moved a step closer, his legs being lost in the cloud that his presence kicked up, as if he was using the particles to form a shape.

    The blue aura became a tad brighter, washing Littlesoldier and her corner in a blue hue.

    Anakin felt that, like himself, Littlestar would only become truly free in death. Anakin was only free when liberated from the confines of his suit- and now, to him, maybe Littlesoldier’s own body and mind had become her true prison.

    Anakin believed, maybe, the only way to ‘Free’ her now was to eradicate the body. Eradicate Littlestar’s prison.

    ”You’ve forgotten who you are.” The voice had the touch of Rick’s tone, but the formality Anakin. “And so have forgotten me.” the shifting figure, as its glow brightened more and took another step- Littlestar was fully revealed in the light; and Anakin was revolted.

    “You forgot who your true enemy is.” He moved slightly, turning, to refocus the light on the laboratory. Then back to her, watching her snarl. He stuck out a gathering of glowing dust- the semblance of a paw, and reached forward, uncaring if it went into Littlestar’s biting mouth. Because it would do nothing to him. It would go right through and maybe she would see that she was powerless against him.

    “And you must free yourself.” By whatever means necessary. and to Anakin, that entailed either murder or suicide.