Caption Contest Results + October Fanfiction Contest!

I hope I’m not too late! Oof my first attempt at coding let’s see how that goes 😛

(em)I am sad.(/em)
Do you know how it is? To have someone you like and they don’t care about you? They used to. Didn’t they? You thought they did . . . but they make excuses. Often. They drive needles in your heart, and yet you clutch on to the possibility that they might return again.
That they might like you again.
Why sure, they act like it around you. But you can’t see how they really feel behind their black mask. They hardly talk to you anyway. They say they want to.
I want a chance to break their heart. To smash it, to watch the tainted splinters hit the ground with shivery, sad notes.
I also follow them. I follow them to see what they are doing without me. Acting normal. Around friends. They love their friends. Am I a friend?
This behavior isn’t wrong. Isn’t it?
I often enter my own little world. My world makes me feel better. Where it’s easy to make friends, and arguments can be resolved.
It’s no fun to play a game where someone walks out on your life.
I’ve had that happen many times. From the sweetest beings, it seems. It is.
I’m crying, and hard. But no tears come out. My face is blank, my mouth shut. But my eyes blink, once, twice.
I’m recounting all the possible times in my head where I did something for them, they ignored me, acted like it was okay. They acted normal, tiptoeing around my sentences. It wasn’t normal.
Is this toxic? It didn’t used to be. Why is it now?
It was something I did. Obviously.
No. It was something they did. It has to be. It has to be.
How do I get them to feel pain? Yell?
Sometimes I want to hit. Sometimes I want to see them develop bruises. I want to scream at them.
But more than anything, I don’t want them to let go. I don’t want to let go.
Friends don’t exist, okay? Family doesn’t exist. No one likes you past their short, emotionless words. I used to have the capacity to care.
I’m so lonely. (/em)

***
Thornfall watched the sun set while his ears twitched towards the sounds of thundering paws. Apprentices burst through the border, including one heading straight for him. She trotted up and touched her nose gently to his shoulder.
“Hiya!” she chirped.
“Hi Ryepaw.” He said, enjoying her enthusiasm, whatever the case may be for it. “Did I miss anything?”
“Yeah.” her gaze flickered to his shoulder and then went back to normal. “A warrior ceremony is happening today! Her name is Darkpaw. I don’t know her too well, but she’s interesting from what I’ve seen. Would you like to meet her? Wait, do you know her?”
Flicking his tail tip at the barrage of questions, he grinned at her with amusement. “No, I don’t believe I’m ever met her.”
“I’ll go get her then!” She bounced, spun around, and bounded like a rabbit up to an ebony she-cat sniffing over a lizard.
Eventually they came up to him. The newcomer’s pelt rippled with purple sheens as she moved. She stopped and ducked her head, if in greeting or nerves Thornfall couldn’t tell.
“Anyway, I’ll leave you two to chat.” Ryepaw made a beeline to the fresh-kill, revealing clearly what her actual intent was. Darkpaw watched her go.
“Well, she’s an odd one, ain’t she?” She murmured. She sat still and didn’t do anything for several minutes.
“So,” Thornfall said at last, wanting to break the tension. “Are you hoping for a certain name to be given to you? I know I did.”
Darkpaw’s leg skittered and her head snapped. “Um, I-I- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Thornfall frowned. “Don’t be.”
The she-cat seemed startled by his frown, and started digging a hole.
She’s worried. Thornfall gave an hmm to himself. Thinking he could perk her up, he softened his tone. “We all felt nervous before our ceremony.” He attempted. “But look at how many warriors there are! You’ll be alright.”
“Maybe,” she muttered. Her small, hunched posture and head dropped low to the ground made him get up and prepare to leave. Only her tail, swishing back and forth, proved she was angry.
He decided he shouldn’t probe further as he barely knew her, but as he dipped his head in acknowledgement and turned to the fresh-kill pile, she shot a nasty glare at the apprentices.
(em) I wonder what’s going to happen to that one. (/em)

***

(em) I did not think I would get my name. But I did. Even then, they thought I wouldn’t do my vigil well. Protect my Clan. I’ll show them. I’ll show them all. (/em)
Darkpetal stood, guarding her Clan’s entrance as the breeze skittered, skipped, and decided it wanted to be wind.
“I’m so cold,” she whispered to herself, watching her breath billow out of her mouth as if it were a ghost. She moved her paws, feeling them stiffening. Her tail billowed out and curled around her haunches tighter.
She looked straight into the pine forest outside the camp. They were tall, dark, and imposing. Probably a perfect place for an intruder to hide and eventually make their way to them.
She stood up abruptly. She would go in there and search for any possible threat. That would protect her Clanmates, now wouldn’t it?
Inhaling, Darkpetal nosed her way past the plants and walked. She padded on silently, her widened eyes taking it in.
Thick mist swirled around the trunks, which were as dark as her. A few small slivers of moonlight showed only silhouettes of pine edges. The forest was ghost-quiet, even the wind couldn’t reach. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come in here after all.
No. She had to press on. Protect Clan, protect Clan.
Darkpetal went for another breath. Surprise made the landscape clearer when she couldn’t. She sniffed hurriedly past the numbness and could only scent what she could see.
As she headed on, a terrible feeling stopped her tracks. Confused, she told herself to keep searching. A cold, clammy feeling rose in her chest. She was stuck here, she couldn’t move.
Her breathing became faster. Her frantic gasps now entwined with the mist, her claws curled and she tore through the landscape, not caring where she was going. She gasped as she twisted a limb across a root, body hitting the ground and sending pebbles and dust in the air. The forest was watching her. The forest was going to torture her, but she didn’t know how it would, but she could feel the certainty.
She shook her head to clear it, and then began to pick herself up. This was just a little setback, and then she could continue. Why was she panicking?
“Where are you!?” she called into the stillness. Nothing but horrid trees met her, and they returned the call, echoing, (em) where are you, where are you, where are you. (/em)
(em) I need to keep going. I failed my Clannmates. Somehow. Someone’s in here, I know it. (/em)
Fur on end, she whipped around, only to meet more pines. She was lost. No idea where to head. She would never get back home.
She began to back up, looking past every branch, and spotted one that wasn’t black. It was an oak tree. That was odd, why would one of those be in a pine forest?
She went right up to it and touched it. At once she felt calmer, collected, as if the oak was pulling all her worries out. Her heart began to quiet and she could feel again, and realized her frozen toes and a cracked claw. Her tail drooped and she rested her forehead against the thick bark.
This warm tree was the only thing protecting her from those violent pines. If she wandered back though them, all would be lost. Her breath would leave and she would die alone. Not that anyone would care, anyway.
The tree shifted.
Darkpetal stifled a scream.
Had it shifted . . . closer somewhere? Had it shifted towards her camp?
She gave a sudden, quiet gasp. The oak was showing her the way home! It knew she wanted to go back, so it shifted in her direction.
She nodded towards it. “Thanks.”
The sound of her voice, while seeming friendly, was so cold she staggered backwards in shock. Instantly cruel black water flooded around her, and she turned around, her legs scrambling to keep up, blindly wishing she was going in the direction the oak had pointed. Needles whipped along her face, and her breathing once again clipped. Why did she ever leave the tree? She was going to die, she was going to scream and tear herself apart with longing –
Where she was running became smoother, and dust appeared instead of mist. Leaving the woods behind her, Darkpetal turned on her home, never so happy to see it in her life. She collapsed by the medicine den, her flanks heaving.
Dove-gray fur flashed as Dewfrost came out of her den, stopping at the heap of ebony. “Darkpetal! Why, whatever is the matter?! You look positively ill!”
(em) Do I? Why? Not much happened there. (/em) Her fur sticky and on all ends, Darkpetal heaved her dizzy head up and failed to meet the medicine cat’s gaze.
“I’m . . . going to be sick,” She choked.
“Not if I can help it.” Dewfrost declared. She ran inside her den and returned moments later with a poppy seed along with a willow sprig.
“Eat these,” she said, flicking her tail at them. “And get a good night’s rest.”
Darkpetal obediently lapped up the herbs. She dragged her body into a nest, and curled up tight in an effort to rid her shakes. Her eyes closed, but she jerked them open, and tried not to close them again.
Somehow, at some time, she fell asleep.
(strong) Life is shot through with nightmares. My quaking limbs could barely carry me. I was up for a purpose: I needed to see if all my Clanmates were sleeping. I will check each border; make sure the THING doesn’t get them! It cannot, or all will be lost. Then I can get them. (/strong)
(strong) I can get them. (/strong)
(em) I can get them. (/em)
(em) I can . . . (/em)
Darkpetal sat up like she had been stung. She was panting, ears pricked and alert for any signs of danger. She noticed her claws had slid out and were gleaming, with a swallow of nausea she sheathed them. Her throat was scratched and raw and her mouth sticky, she heaved herself up and out of her nest and limped over to the medicine cat’s den.
“Dewfrost?” she croaked. With a shift she noticed that a smaller cat was padding over to her. Wide ears showed her it was Acornpaw.
“What may I do for you?” He asked, his head tilting.
“Water, please.” Aware of her voice, Darkpetal scraped her paws on the ground in embarrassment.
Acornpaw disappeared and came back with honey on a leaf, and moss dripping with water. Greedily snatching up the moss, Darkpetal drank. She choked and sputtered water everywhere as it became thick. She pressed her tongue against her mouth, recoiling. She drew for the honey and stopped.
“Is your throat badly sore?” Acornpaw noted sympathetically. “We’ve had some cats who can’t handle water – trying the honey is a good idea.”
But Darkpetal didn’t hear him. “That honey – – it’s on an-n oak l-eaf.”
“Well, yes,” Acornpaw said, confused. “I found some near Roaring Thunder’s land and it was the closest. Why is it important?”
She knew why. Honey on an oak leaf – it was a sign! Idiotic Acornpaw couldn’t make sense of these things yet, probably. The honey represented soothing, and the oak leaf meant her tree! She needed to go back to the tree to cure her illness.
“I’m feeling better.” It was only half a lie. “Could I take a walk?”
Acornpaw stared, thinking. Then he slowly nodded. “Come back as soon as possible, especially if your symptoms get worse.”
“Of course.” Her mouth becoming sticky again, she soon found herself on the trail leading to the pine forest. As she moved, eager, she slammed into a tom she couldn’t see. He yelped and swung a paw at her. “Watch where you’re going, Darkpetal!”
She gaped. “How did you know it was me?” From the sound of his voice, it was Shrewjaw.
“Because whenever a cat does something wrong, we automatically assume – “he broke off. “Never mind.”
Growling, Darkpetal flung herself at the path once more and shouldered her way in the pines. This time there was a different feeling about them, that same unsettling one, but they now – somehow – shared some of her pain. Maybe they were trying to convince her they were nothing to be afraid of. But she knew better.
Where was her oak? As she struggled, her chest closed and her breath quickened. She coughed and spat out a sickly tasting chunk lodged in her throat without thought. My oak! Come out!
There it was! She shrieked and sprawled towards it, tearing bushes apart. A sharp branch tore her ear and she turned on it, spitting, and snapped it in half. Giving a triumphant yowl she fled and, gathering her haunches, gave a massive leap.
She felt the heaviness slide off, she felt the light bathe her body as her claws collided and sunk into it once more. She pressed her cheek close to it and sighed out all her frustration. It felt safer than ever.
“I missed you!” Why did she say that to a tree?
(strong) I missed you too, (/strong) something whispered. Strange – it sounded somewhat like her.
Darkpetal froze. “You can – you can understand me?”
It chuckled.(strong) It will take some time before you can see the true me, young one. (/strong)
“What are you doing here? Why are you a tree – I mean – if you are something else?”
(strong) I am here to protect. You needed me in this form to escape. (/strong)
“Will I need you for something else?” Thoughts of her denmates at home finding out she was talking to a tree made her stiffen.
Her ear twitched as sap touched its fur. You need to do something for me now.
Darkpetal’s eyes widened. “What could that be?”
(strong) To stop me. (/strong)
“St-top you from what?”
Darkpetal drew back to look at it and tripped, falling out of the tree’s warmth and back into the black. She desperately called out to it, “Why?! Did you reject me?! Come back!”
The tree shifted again, and ink swamped Darkpetal’s eyes, and she fled, trying to stop from weeping. (em) What’s (strong) happening (/strong) to me? (/em)

“Darkpetal.” A voice spoke briskly. “You should join a patrol, or hunt. You haven’t been engaging in activities.”
Wearily lifting her head, Darkpetal murmured, “I don’t feel the greatest.”
“Dewfrost checked over you several times and reported nothing wrong. Get up.”
“You’re not the medicine cat.” Darkpetal grumbled, shifting her paw over her nose.
“And you’re not a good warrior,” the voice said sharply. “Guess we both can’t be something.”
The she-cat gave a feeble swipe at the retreating hind leg as he left. She noticed the color and found it was the deputy. She was going to serve under this tom’s rule some day!
She moaned and rolled over on her side, boiling rage in her belly. This was terrible. She half considered running away to another Clan, one that could appreciate her more.
“Hi Darkpetal.” It was Acornpaw, his cheerful mew reminding her that at least one cat cared. “Are you feeling better? Sorry we couldn’t find a cure. I brought you some honeycomb to cheer you up.” His gaze pricked hopefully.
He set it by her paws, and she gave it a chew. The flavor disappeared instantly and she was left with a wad of wax in her mouth. Reluctant to swallow, she pushed it in her cheek and said, “Thanks.”
“Happy to help.” With a flick of his tail, Acornpaw moved on. Darkpetal picked up the honeycomb and half-heartedly sucked out the honey, and spat it in the leaves.
The truth was, honey didn’t help. Not at all.
Darkpetal heard a yelp as someone tried to walk over her, and then stumble. Ivypelt loomed over her, shaking a striped foot.
“Huh.” She sniffed. “Grow a white pelt next time.”
(em) Are you (strong) serious? (/strong) (/em) She roared and threw herself at Ivypelt’s suspended leg, pulling it to the ground and taking a swift bite. Ivypelt screeched and whapped her tail across her attacker’s face. Darkpetal saw the opportunity and chomped down. Ivypelt yanked it away and turning around, she leaped, claws extended.
Darkpetal got on her back with her unsheathed paws up and braced for the soft underbelly.
Something sprawled Ivypelt away, landing her in some bushes. Darkpetal got flipped over and hauled up by her scruff, and plopped down on her legs. Unsteady, she looked up to see the leader’s gaze and flinched.
“Darkpetal! Ivypelt! Clanmates should never attack Clanmates! You both were acting like kits, making a scene!”
Ivypelt sprang out of her pushes, spitting out peat. “It’s not my fault, Brownstar!” she yowled. “Darkpetal was just lying in the center! Any cat could have tripped over her.”
“Darkpetal, if you’re feeling ill, go and lie down by the medicine cat’s den.” Brownstar said briskly. “Ivypelt, be more aware of your surroundings.”
As Brownstar padded away, Darkpetal left, not meeting Ivypelt’s gaze, although it burned her fur. It made her want to look back.
She found that her paws were leading her to the forest pathway. (em) I don’t feel any pain. (/em)
(em) Wait, I go there when I have pain? (/em)
(em) Yes. (/em)
She noticed Thornfall on the path, and he was heading back to camp. Curious, Darkpetal swished her plumy tail.
“Did you visit the pines?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“I did,” he responded. “The trees are a bit unusual.”
He didn’t look shaken. Just unsettled, nothing more. Darkpetal’s heart began to speed up.(em) I must be special! Aren’t I the only one who can feel, who gets help and comfort? (/em)
A twitch from somewhere inside told her she did not get just help and comfort.
As Thornfall went on his way, she teetered, took a few steps forward, and was so overcome with weariness she turned around. She threw herself past the fern opening bordering the warrior’s den, and collapsed in her nest, giving way to blackness.

(strong) I halted by the camp entrance, listening to the peaceful breaths of sleep. How soon the air would be touched with screaming. I almost did not want to disrupt it, but I had to. It was in my nature. I could not prevent myself in time. (/strong)
(strong) I did this to me. (/strong)
(strong) I curled my thick head around, and spotted my first victim. Maybe, to preserve silence, I could gently hold her throat down until I crushed her pipe. I have the power. I would look into her eyes and see her sadness, as well as the pure shock that someone like me could do that to her. She caused this. I caused this. (/strong)
(strong) I would close off her ability to breathe. (/strong)
(em) I would close off her ability to breathe . . (/em)
Darkpetal’s eyes flew open, and she inhaled, or tried to, sharply. She couldn’t breathe! Who dared try to kill her! She thrashed around in her nest, one of her legs crumpling.
Finally she looked down to see if there was nothing there, if it was her illness after all. To her complete surprise, her own paw had pinned her throat down. Try as she might, she could not move her lifeless leg and get it out of the way.
She finally moved down her head in an effort to bite her paw, but fog crowded her vision, so she fell backwards and rummaged with her hind legs, successfully tearing her paw off its grip. No blood was on it. Darkpetal felt sheer relief and began to gulp in air, trembling. (em) What just happened? (/em)
“Quit rolling around!” hissed Shrewjaw. “You’re waking all of us up!”
Darkpetal got out of her nest and limped away. Behind her she heard Shrewjaw snort and settle back into his.
She ran to the forest, racing past the pines and naturally curving between them. They were whispering tonight, and the mist stayed by her feet instead of suffocating her. Somehow, her breathing slowed. She wasn’t mad! The pines were calm around her now. This must be how Thornfall sees it, she had finally healed herself!
Wait. Was she not special anymore? She had to be!
This time, she slammed into her oak. Funny, she hadn’t noticed it before. The grass around the roots was still warm toned, but it faded in ice faster. It was like the warm bubble had spread out, or something had spread in.
(strong) Don’t worry. (/strong)
“I – “ Darkpetal felt emotions clogging up her throat.
(strong) Have you found a way to save me? (/strong)
“I don’t know what you need saving from!” Darkpetal’s voice wavered. “Please tell me!”
(strong) To do that, I would need to tell you who I am. I don’t think you could handle that. (/strong)
“I can!” the promise was made.
The oak’s branches shivered, once, twice, and dipped down and out like flower petals, revealing a huddled, blurry form. It lifted its head and looked at Darkpetal. Its eyes were pure white.
Darkpetal stood. She stayed that way for moments.
This creature was a she-cat. She opened her mouth and spoke. “Do you want me to come closer?”
It took some time for Darkpetal to find her voice. “Yes.”
The cat jumped with almost impossible grace, and padded forward, and even though her eyes were only white, it felt like she did not move them from Darkpetal the whole time.
As the she-cat came closer, Darkpetal felt bile rise in her throat. She choked on the icy wave that hit her, it chilled her insides and for some reason unknown, she felt cruel laughter bubbling in her mouth –
Realizing where she was, she brought her tail up to her mouth to stop from laughing further. Her eyes so wide you could see the whites, she watched as the she-cat took a few steps back. The feelings thawed, yet remained on the outside, trying to worm their way in.
“What did you do to me?” Darkpetal’s voice was still muffled, she was afraid to move and risk laughing again.
The she-cat drew back. “(strong) Whatever do you mean, Darkpetal? I wouldn’t dare (em) dream (/em) of doing something to you. (/strong)”
Darkpetal dropped and hunched over, her mouth agape. She couldn’t speak.
The she-cat tilted her head as the cruelest, widest smile formed, curling past her lips and up to her ears. “(strong) This is all you. (/strong)”
And Darkpetal understood. She was this creature. It was her negative sensations. She had brought this she-cat here whenever she thought about them by the oak, when it had shifted, it wasn’t leading her home, it was preparing to rise out and . . .
She felt cold.
“(strong) I will get them, (/strong)” The she-cat purred. “(strong) You couldn’t prevent me in time. (/strong)”
She stepped around Darkpetal and began walking away, her plumy tail swishing.
Darkpetal turned around to stop her but couldn’t. She screamed as she felt her mouth moving up, like a slice across her face. Her eyes began to leak, white droplets splattering the grass. Powerless, she collapsed to the ground, a permanent smile etched, watching her ghost move on as she surrendered.