For the LawlClan Monthly Challenge, the prompt was:

"The afterlife was not what the protagonist expected."

"I'm dead, aren't I?" came a vicious voice in the dark nothing. The question echoed, bouncing in the silence. There was no light filtering anywhere, and no life that he could hear.

"Where am I? Someone! Answer me!" the voice roared angrily, and again, the echoes amplified the feeling of being alone. The cat padded off, walked to who knew where and wondered how he got here. The last thing he seemed to remember was a twoleg coming at him…or was it one of those monsters? No, it was- Argh! He began to pace now, annoyed by his uselessness.

'Is this really what death is like?Is this really what I'm condemned to?'He began to feel empty, lightheaded and drowning.'NO. I will not allow myself to fall into this abyss…'

He stumbled then, trying to find the light; trying to find the way out that he knew was there. But there are only shadows with dusk when there should have been light. The cat stopped moving, becoming more and more depressed. 'I don't even know what I look like, or even what my name is. Why am I trying so hard to go somewhere that clearly doesn't exist?'He remembered then what he should have known all along. If there are shadows, then there must be light creating them, and so the cat started to move again, in silence this time.

It felt like it's been days now, maybe even years. 'How long have I been moving? Where's the light I've been so desperate to find? Why am I still moving again? There was some reason, way back when…'

He still walked, though. The cat never faltered in his steps, never stopped or paced, he just kept moving forward, searching for his light. At some point he mumbled to himself, "I'm fine by myself. I can make it. I can do it. I'm not helpless! Stop laughing at me!" and he charged then, fighting sobs that seem to break out of his chest. The cat didn't want to admit to himself that he knew. He didn't want to say aloud that he remembered what it was like, that now it's different, moving.

The tom started to reflect on what little he knew of his life, realizing how far he'd fallen in such a short time. He managed to ignore his very last fading memory as well, thinking about all the cats who must hate him instead. The cat didn't see faces, didn't think names, he just knew that cats must dislike his very being. But why would they hate him? What did he do? Answers are what he needed, and the tom knew that he would only find them in the light. He started to run again, coming closer to the thought of his own death, and maybe even the light.

The tom felt ancient, almost like he would turn to dust if he took one more step. He was exhausted, and so he thought of his life while he ran; thought of his death. "I'm really dead, aren't I? That memory I kept avoiding, it's of my death…" The cat had stopped. There, not even two dogs away, was a puddle of light. It was that easy? He just had to admit to his death? All that time spent on walking, running, and weeping was worth nothing? Anger pierced the cat's heart. He had been tricked! The light wouldn't save him! The cat, in pure spite, walked away slowly from the puddle. "I'll walk and walk and walk until the end of time" he snarled over his shoulder at the dwindling puddle of gold, "before I'll look at you again!"

But still, there was a sense of doubt in his heart. What had he done to make himself one of the most hated cats? What had he done that left him with these feelings of hate, resentment, and anger of unnerving proportions? And so as he walked, the cat thought back to his very first memories, going slowly towards his last.

A flash of blood showed up against his opponent's fur, the pounding rain making it appear as though the wound were deeper. The battle had been vicious with its screeching cats, the noises of both pain and passion. The two sides battled out not just their differences, but their inner pain as well. Each side had lived for moons and seasons without knowing true desperation, but had come to face terrifying disease and killing starvation during the past few moons. Neither side had truly faced battle until now.

This had all happened because he had come.

'No…That's not me.' The tom had thought during his rest, his limbs finally tugged down by weariness. 'I'm not like that. I don't fight…'

The moon shone down upon his dark body, hiding his location from the others. The ones who he had once called friends had all turned on him suddenly while he slept, betraying him. He had fought hard and fiercely against them all, though there were only a few left from the ravished camps. Somehow he had managed to get away with only killing two, distracting the other three with their wounds.

'How did I do it? How had I managed those odds?' The tom thought, trying hard to decipher his past deeds. They didn't make any sense. How could he have killed two, let alone gotten away when five of them had ambushed him? How?

He had taken fierce pleasure from the sight of blood pouring out of the wounds he made, even if it had been too easy. The others had been too weak and sickly from the lack of food and the abundance of disease. The cat wondered why they had chosen to attack him. Had they discovered his past? Did they suspect he had something to do with the recent troubles? Who knew what the camp cats had thought? The tom just knew that it had clearly been a last ditch operation.

These memories…the cat had felt so detached remembering them. He had felt as though they hadn't actually happened; he was just an observer making mental notes during an old story being retold. He had begun to realize some things about himself, things that he never would have even considered in life. Was this what death was truly about? Learning your true self in a way no one alive could? These memories, they had happened, but they never should have.

He ran, his slim body fitting through every tight spot the tom came up against. His heart pounding in time with his paws slamming against the ground. I was their friend. They were my friends. What happened? Who did this? Who turned my friends against me? A thought came to him.

Brother.

The tom was shaking from this new round of memories. Brother? He had a brother? The tom suddenly wasn't sure if he wanted to know the end to this tale. The thought of what could come scared him. Did he dare go back to that dark place of memories, or would he decide that this was enough. That he had tasted the actualities of death, that he was ready for the light. Indecision clutched at his heart, his thoughts had become a jumbled mess of uncertainties.

The light would come if he asked for it, regardless of his earlier outburst. It would come because he was ready for peace, had been for quite some time. The tom was tired of this roam and remember circle. He was tired…so…tired….

A flash of light whirled across his vision, and before he even realized it, the light engulfed the tom. Night was at peace.

A story untold, left unfinished in the depth of death began to unfold itself with the last bits of the tom's memories.

Night ran, breathing hard from his pursuers relentless chasing. A safe haven was so close, so close that he could see it. The only obstacle was unseen, but there. Another cat appeared out of nowhere, blocking Night's last home from view. His brother, Fang, looked furious. The contrasting cat's light fur was raised, and his eyes screamed murder.

"Hello, brother." Fang snarled, a nasty smile spreading slowly across his muzzle as his claws came out.

Night began to back away, fearing for his life. Fang had always hated him, had always resented him, but never had Night thought that his brother wanted him dead. Right then, Night thought it possible his brother might want him obliterated.

A flash of white suddenly whipped in front of him, a searing pain in his chest, and suddenly…nothing.

I know the ending sucks butt, and I apologize about that. I really just wanted to get this over with so that I could revise it at a later time, but anyone who has read any of my stories knows that I am slow on the uptake. :'D

Any comments, good or bad, are welcome. Just don't tell me it sucks without a good explanation and ways I could make it better. More than likely I'll contact you about it or just delete the review.