Be Careful What You WISH For [p]

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    [color=black]Everybody said we gotta take a chance and tell them what the hell went wrong.
    We only listened to the words that we sang, now a million are singing along.




    The evening was fast approaching. That time just beyond the early glow of twilight would help conceal the positions Voltaire, Kimba and Sharven held in the underbrush, just beyond where Flight lay, motionless.


    The blood was an awful thing, collected from the weak and dying that had been slaughtered by Deathwish. It was a horrid task, but it was needed to make everything run smoothly. The crimson concealer stank as the night wind blew past them.


    They were down wind. Deathwish shouldn’t suspect a thing.


    All they had to do was wait for Nebuchadnezzar to arrive, his best acting pelt on, and convince Deathwish that this murder had taken place as a challenge to the Skull; on their land, at their doorstep.


    All they had to do was wait.


    ©katatonic 2013

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    And wait he did. Impatiently, angrily, but Voltaire waited. His amber eyes shone with expectancy from where he lay concealed, but the deputy did not allow his emotions to make so much as a single twitch stir his still form. It was a day of reckoning, and he was not going to be the cat to mess it up. Wrinkling his nose just slightly at the smell of blood - Flight would throughly reek after this - he crouched lower and was still again.

    Flight lay as limply as possible, splayed in a position carefully calculated to give her the best spring when the time came but still seem slack. Her mouth was locked shut; if she had to taste the tang of the blood on her flank one more time, she thought she would sick up. Her fur, haphazardly fluffed up and mussed, looked like she had been in a real skirmish. Her eyes were closed; she couldn't hold them open for any length of time, and it would certainly look suspicious if the supposedly dead she-cat started blinking. All in all, she was incredibly uncomfortable.
    It was worth it, though. Her fur tingled at the thought of what would happen- provided she survived, of course. She would certainly be rewarded for her role in the overthrowing of Deathwish. She was- this was the impossible part, the part she couldn't force herself to believe- the catalyst. If she failed, the Skulls were more or less doomed; if she succeeded, her dreams and ambitions would be finally fulfilled. A twenty-ton weight rested on her shoulders, and just thinking about it set her heart racing.
    Flight had shoved that thought to the back of her mind long ago. If Deathwish saw her chest moving to a rapid heartbeat, he would know something was up. Her breathing, too, was slow and barely stirred her pelt. She had been practicing holding it. She was ready. The question still flitted through her mind, though- was it enough?

    The post was edited 1 time, last by ♍ ☯ Lakey ☯ ♍ ().

    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic; font-size: 22px; margin-bottom: -13px; letter-spacing: 13px; text-align: right]Wish for Death[/fancypost]
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    "Good heavens, boy!" Deathwish trilled. "You'd think the mouth of the caverns were on fire!"


    The dark smoke tom trailed slowly behind the fluffed out and frantic tom who had promised him a bit of excitement. That wasn't exactly how he had put it. He said it was a tragedy. A vicious murder.


    Weren't all murders vicious? Wasn't that what made them fun?


    This, however was different. According to him, this she-cat had been slain and left for dead on their doorstep by an enemy... and she was one of theirs. She-cat or not, she belonged to Skull, and as far as Deathwish was concerned, this meant he decided how she died, not anyone else.


    When he spotted the shadow of a body, he stopped. It was a familiar scent, and he sighed, his eyes stopping back on Nebuchadnezzar.


    "Oh dear. This is yours, isn't it? She was your little gal."


    Briefly, he felt sad for the tom, but it passed as quickly as it came. He was quickly distracted by the sour stench of sickness.


    "Was she sick before she died?"


    She had to have been. The smell of sickness was so strong with all the blood. Yet, he didn't smell death. Perhaps the sickness was too strong.


    He padded forward, almost as close to Nebuchadnezzar as he was to Flight. He paused, letting thoughts of revenge come to him.


    I don't care just what you think
    As long as it's about me

    [fancypost borderwidth=0; border-top: 2px solid #7D3369; border-bottom: 4px dotted #7D3369][font=helvetica]Nebuchadnezzar was shaking from nose to tail. The adreneline of the situation was so heavy, and his emotions were in a mess.


    Yes, he was supposed to act as if Flight had died. He wasn't, at the time, aware of how much this would effect him, mentally. What if she were really dead? What if this all went wrong, and she died because of him? He had been the one to ask her to risk her life. He would never, ever forgive himself.


    The limp he carried from his forepaw break was waning, but still, he limped to her body. He did what he could to lure Deahtwish close, but he wouldn't come close enough. The frustration was beyond angering. He was so close! Just a few pawsteps further!


    "She... might have been." He replied. "But I smell RiverClan stench on this one!"


    It was the first clan he thought of, and the fishy smell of the wet blood made him think of those river rats.[/fancypost]

    [color=white][size=8]Breathe keep breathing \\ Don't loose your nerve
    Breathe keep breathing \\ I can't do this alone

    Flight's flank was absolutely still, but she thought her lungs would burst unless one of the toms gave the signal soon. Deathwish's breath stirred what little of her fur lay uncovered by congealing blood. She could hear the anguish in Nez's voice; it didn't sound completely faked. Somehow she doubted he was this good an actor; there must be some pain there, which made sense. He probably felt he was leading her to her death, after all.
    Sundiata!
    The sudden thought seized her, and it took an effort to stay still. She had been neglecting her ailing brother, she realized, since Nez had entered her life. Flight sent a silent prayer to Fortis that if she died here, someone, Nez perhaps, would take care of her brother. He needed someone, and she hadn't been around to share his dreams with him, to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. Guilt darkened her thoughts, and she had to struggle back to the matter at hand.

    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic; font-size: 22px; margin-bottom: -13px; letter-spacing: 13px; text-align: right]Wish for Death[/fancypost]
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    He took the bait. Unable to smell the RiverClan scent that Nez claimed there to be, Deathwish moved forward, bending his head down to sniff her on his own.


    He noticed the faintest of movements in that instant.


    "Wait..." he said. The realization came far too late. "She isn't-"

    I don't care just what you think
    As long as it's about me

    At that precise moment, Flight knew she had to strike. There was no waiting for the prearranged signal; she had the perfect opening right when her cover was almost blown. Leaning on the limbs that lay taut beneath her, she sprang toward Deathwish, snatching at his head with her forepaws. At the same insant, she brought her hind paws up to her stomache and lashed out toward his eyes. Her belly was mostly protected, her eyes averted- she was careful to see him only in her peripheral- and adrenaline pumped through her veins like wildfire.

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    It was a strange feeling. Normally pain didn't bother him, but this was a striking kind of ache that shot through his face into his bones. His face felt like it had been set on fire; struck by lightning.


    His sight was blurry, tinged red, and hot. Deathwish frantically looked around, stumbling, trying to understand what had happened.


    "You! You did this!" He yelled, trying to face Nebuchadnezzar. "I. WILL. KILL. YOU!"


    He lashed out, claws stretched to their limits. He missed over and over again, trying to find his mark. He and the she-cat would die. They would pay for this!

    I don't care just what you think
    As long as it's about me

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    [color=black]Everybody said we gotta take a chance and tell them what the hell went wrong.
    We only listened to the words that we sang, now a million are singing along.




    It was quick, and the poor bastard was so taken off guard. Sharven had half a mind to feel badly for him, but for the first time in moons, he felt fully in control of himself. It felt good. It felt right. He'd missed this. All the anger he had felt began to pour from him.


    His hissed to Kimba and Voltaire, "NOW!" leading them to attack Deathwish with everything they had in them.


    ©katatonic 2013

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    Flight scrambled away, horrified at the venom that Deathwish directed toward Nez. She crouched in the bracken, knowing that the toms would want revenge themselves and that jumping in with them might deprive them of that. She waited for Deathwish's end, tense and ready to tear him off Nebuchadnezzar if the mind controller reached him.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px black]V O L T A I R E ☦[/fancypost]
    [justify]( i play voltaire now that day's leaving c: )


    Voltaire didn't need to be told twice. At once, he launched himself from his hiding place. His claws gorged the dirt as they found purchase and, tail giving a single preliminary lash, he attempted to drive his considerable weight into the unsteady leader and overturn him.[/justify]

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    Deathwish hit the ground with a hard thud, the wind knocked from me.


    "Who's there?" He growled. "I can't see!"


    He swiped blindly, his vision throbbing with pain, pulsing with red hot blood. The bits of light he could see were blurry and disoriented. Was this Voltaire? It smelled like the Deputy...


    "What are you doing! You obey me!" the tome yowled, lashing his claws about, attempting to strike any cat within reach.

    I don't care just what you think
    As long as it's about me

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    [color=black]Everybody said we gotta take a chance and tell them what the hell went wrong.
    We only listened to the words that we sang, now a million are singing along.




    Sharven lunged too, seeing Voltaire's knock down land. They could make this quick, or they could make this slow. He preferred they torture him a bit. He was all about the devious payback. He had, after all, taken their minds from them. Sharven wanted to tear him apart, piece by piece.


    ©katatonic 2013

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px black; width:550px]V O L T A I R E ☦[/fancypost]
    [justify]Voltaire ignored the bite of claws into his flesh as one of Deathwish's stray blows landed on his leg and tried to use his bulk to pin him down in such a way that he was utterly harmless. A pesky bug under his paws...exactly what he deserved, the bastard.


    "Not anymore," he growled. No more taking orders from this half-wit. No more. Glancing up, he saw the menace and malicious intentions in his features. While Voltaire was itching for revenge, what he really wanted was to end him as soon as possible. Less risk of things getting messy. But he couldn't deprive Sharven of his fun in good conscience.


    "Would you like to do the honors?" Sharven could tear him to bits if he so chose; Voltaire would have the sadistic pleasure of listening to the music of his screams. [/justify]

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    [color=black]Everybody said we gotta take a chance and tell them what the hell went wrong.
    We only listened to the words that we sang, now a million are singing along.




    "Please," Sharven said with a laugh. "I would enjoy nothing else more than to be the one to end this miserable wretch's life! Hold him steady!"


    First he wanted a souvenir. He would take the tom's tail, a trick he learned from the Elite, and use this as the proof he was gone.


    "You thought you were strong! You thought you could control us forever, didn't you? Together, we are stronger than you. You may have held us in your grasp in the beginning, but now we are free, and you will die for disgracing the Skull."


    With these bitter words, Sharven bit as hard as his jaws would allow, the blood pouring over his maw and he pulled Deathwish's tail free.


    ©katatonic 2013

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    Deathwish keened in pain. It was blinding and shook his mind, reeling him to a level of insanity he had never before reached.


    "Y-you can't do this to me!" he yowled. "I am your leader! You must do what I say!"


    This wasn't how he had planned his time here to end. He had planned to move on to other places, having his fun and playing his games... He would die a cowards death and bring shame to his precious mother's name.


    Capone. Oh, Capone. He loved her so much. She would never approve of him now. She would never take him in when he reached the after life.

    I don't care just what you think
    As long as it's about me

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    [justify]Voltaire, with a terse nod, complied, pressing his weight into the cat beneath him. If he were being honest, he was curious to see what forms of torture Sharven had dreamed up. Certainly he had spent the duration of Death's rule fantasizing about this moment. He had no doubts that Sharven had done the same, carefully plotting his demise with frightening attention to detail. He could almost pity the fallen leader...almost, but not quite.


    Oh, the irony was rich. He smiled in twisted amusement as Sharven tore his trophy away from the rest of the squirming cat. The tail, he decided, ought to have a place of honor, tacked over the leader's den as a reminder to all of Deathwish's beautifully unfortunate fate. He would do it himself if no one else would.


    "Yes we can," he contradicted simply. "And we will."[/justify]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0; border-top: 2px solid #7D3369; border-bottom: 4px dotted #7D3369][font=helvetica]"Just kill him already!" Nebuchadnezzar hissed. "I don't want to listen to him speak anymore."


    He wanted to get in there and rip a few holes in the leader. Deathwish was the reason Pluxiria was dead; the reason Nez was once again fatherless. He needed revenge, but he obeyed his true leader.[/fancypost]

    [color=white][size=8]Breathe keep breathing \\ Don't loose your nerve
    Breathe keep breathing \\ I can't do this alone

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    [color=black]Everybody said we gotta take a chance and tell them what the hell went wrong.
    We only listened to the words that we sang, now a million are singing along.




    With a cruel smirk, Sharven gave thanks to Voltaire for holding him down.


    "May Fortis punish you in Sekt for all you have done to us. May your own gods cast you out into purgatory forever." He hissed, his hackles raised down the ridge of his back.


    He raised his paw, claws outstretched and aching for flesh, and he swiped hard and fast at Deathwish's exposed throat.


    ©katatonic 2013

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