Falling Stones

My life has been filled with evil, yet it holds tiny pinpricks of goodness as well.
My heart may be full of darkness, but love is stronger than shadows.
I may have lived a coward, but I died a hero.
This is my story.
The story of Stone.
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The caves have been the only home I have known. I was born there, raised to kill, to injure, to show no mercy to other cats. I had no choice in the matter, and I did nothing to resist the training.
My mother died when I was still a kitten, trying to take me, her only child, away from the caves and the tyrannical reign of the territory's leader, Fang. He was merciless when he caught my mother escaping with me dangling from her jaws.
When I was young, other cats my age teased me about my mother's betrayal. I was ashamed of what she had done, and now I am ashamed of those thoughts. I could have had a better life away from the Cave Territory, had a peaceful den in the forest, never having to fight other cats. But I was ignorant of that fact, and I worked hard to become like them, like Fang and his loyal cats.
I was seven moon-cycles old when I killed my first cat.
She was a scrawny thing, barely past kittenhood, with russet-colored fur that was covered with mud and blood - her own blood. Her fur had been torn out in clumps, leaving patches of skin that were an ugly red. She had been in a bad fight, and her eyes were glazed with fear and pain. 
Category:Fanfiction Stories