//------------------------------// // Chapter 15 // Story: Popcorn // by Popcorn Pony //------------------------------// The heaviness now weighing Pocornia's spirit down trumped any burden she had carried before, she had not expected her eyes to behold many things, but she could see the disbelief in the Werewolf's deceptive eyes. She gasped at the grim glare he gave her, she returned her eye stricken awes to the rotting carcass blocking their escape. “I thought you beat him!” Pocornia sputtered. “The Corpse Bear?” The Werewolf admitted. “No, We scuffled for awhile then broke off.” “What do we do?” Pocornia anxiously beckoned. The Werewolf answered Pocornia with a sour look. “Hide.” Pocornia spared no time and ran back into the Graveyard. The Corpse Bear charged towards the Werewolf, his rotted mind guided by a profane madness. He desired nothing more than to rend the Werewolf's flesh with his jagged, gritty, decayed teeth. He flicked his parted tongue tauntingly mid charge and roared coarsely, ensuring no doubt of his intent. The Werewolf squared up with the Corpse Bear then sprinted towards him. Their shoulders met, their bodies collided and their arms warped around one another. The Werewolf lifted his foe clean off the ground, ignoring the set of jaws chomping down on his bicep. He howled then slammed the Corpse Bear against the earth so forcibly that the ground beneath them split asunder. The Corpse Bear bellowed a guttural growl then wrestled against the Werewolf, trying to unsteady him. As the Werewolf tried to step overhead, the Corpse Bear swept the Werewolf's leg then rolled him onto his side and readied to strike. The Werewolf shielded his throat with his already bloody arm, yelping as he felt a set of claws tear deep into his muscle. He saw another strike coming and deflected it aside, countering his opponent with his own pronged claws into the Corpse Bear's chest. The Corpse Bear roared aggressively, his eyes drawn to a distant green light that gradually brightened. A sizzling green magic bolt sped through the air, impacting and exploding against his snout with enough force to propel him back several feet. “Leave him alone!” Pocornia timidly shrieked. “Go away!” The Corpse Bear stood up, his senses so skewed that he failed to notice the Werewolf's muscular figure hurtling down on him with a mighty tree trunk in his grasp. The Corpse Bear endured, feeling his skull bounce off the ground. He gurgled and wretched, resisting The Werewolf grabbing onto him. His foe's knee struck his face, feeling hard as stone. His foe proceeded to press him against a statue, pinning him against it while repeatedly striking his already bloodied head. The Werewolf stopped, proudly watching green slush the consistency of syrup pour from the Corpse Bear's many wounds. “I expected better from you...” The Corpse Bear offered no resistance against the Werewolf's arm wrapping around his head. He choked in defeat, feeling the Werewolf's arm squeeze tightly like a vice grip meant to shatter his skull. He wailed in agony, feeling the bone splintering and cracking as green seepage leaked from the gaps. His torment suddenly ceased as his body fell to the ground, landing upon a cold resting place. The Werewolf triumphantly stood over his prey with a lippy grin, speaking in a raspy tone. “From one predator to another, lay down and die...” The Werewolf approached Pocornia, paying the pain in his thigh little mind yet gave himself a quick look over after noticing the terrified look on Pocornia's face. He held his arms out, watching helplessly as the Corpse Bear's blood melted his flesh down to the bone. It took mere seconds for him to feel incredibly weak. He collapsed, feeling faint and sick. A loud crack rung in his ears, his leg having snapped in two. He managed to roll onto his back, his bewildered eyes looking up into the star riddled sky. Pocornia's panicked face came into view, eclipsing everything. “You were on my side all along...” Pocornia remorsefully offered. The Werewolf's floppy ears rolled back, appearing more like a weary pup then the alpha he often made himself to be. “Pocornia...he is using you...lying to you.” He coughed and gagged, using the last bit of life left in him to plea. “The orb...he will change everything, don't give it to him...” The Werewolf focused on Pocornia, starring up at her out the corner of his eyes. He admired her overall brightness, the pristine color of her turquoise fur and her fiery orange eyes. He watched as the blonde color of her mane encircled everything in his vision, the color beginning to rapidly swirl then drip downward like moist paint splattered onto a wall. The last discernible thing he could make out was darkness, watching himself plummet downward. Pocornia curiously eyed the orb, watching it pulse green light as it lay on the ground. “I can stay here awhile so I can learn how to use it against him...” Celestia stood before the door to Luna's inner chamber, looking within. Both areas were dark, dimly lit by only a few candles scattered here and there. Luna sat in a chair before a table, staring, sullenly, Celestia thought, at her chess board. A game was in play. “Come in, sister,” Luna said, her voice sharp while also sounding somewhat commanding. Celestia entered, her mind contemplating the look on her sister's face. Luna had previously stated the current situation had grown dire, but hadn't provided much specificity into exactly what that meant. The balance of all things was in check, she had stated, yet Celestia still had reservations concerning that proclaimed reality. She questioned both the activities her sister had been engaged in and why she deemed it necessary to involve so many others. The Castle was now occupancy to many other ponies, ponies of all stripes yet all connected in some manner to one particular other. Celestia questioned all of this, yet her sister's continence radiated an opposing sense of determination and detachment, yielding little more in the way of information. Celestia also entertained a curious sense the darkness Luna had surrounded herself with was...somehow...more aware of all of this than she was. If so, that would be unsettling, to say the least. She approached her sister, Luna's gaze still focused on the various pieces arrayed on the board before her. As she moved the darkness around her seemed to weave. “Luna…” Celestia murmured, stopping before the table, “Why do you confine yourself here, in the dark?” Luna moved to hold her hooves together, the tips supporting her chin while her eyes bored down onto the board. “Scrutinizing this game, sister…” Celestia looked at the board. She saw both the White King and Queen surrounded by opposing forces, a Knight, a Rook, and several Pawns occupying strategic locations. The Black King held a position of safety far from this primary battle. “If this is representative of the situation you currently face, I do not see how you can win.” Luna lifted her gaze to her older sister, her eyebrows moving together in what appeared to be an expression of annoyance. As Celestia held her place, she noticed Luna's horn began to sparkle with dark mist. Suddenly a Bishop, allied with the White King and Queen, materialized on the Chess Board. Celestia looked. The Bishop had appeared in a position which had instantly checked the Black King. “Perhaps you would be correct, sister, had I not cheated. All is not yet lost.” Luna countered. Celestia looked at the Bishop, then back to her sister. Luna's face seemed to hold a smirk or a sneer. Never underestimate the power of vanity, Celestia thought. “I see…” Pocornia materialized, her hooves clopping onto dirt. She listened to the familiar rustle of bushes and trees swaying against the wind. Her eyes had fixed on the center of the glade, standing there, was the dark pony. His darkened cloak flew, his black hood hovering his featureless face. She tightened her face, frowning angrily at him. The Dark Pony stood silent, as his champion neared him. He barely noticed Pocornia’s tension, his focus completely on the orb, so much that his hearing distorted and muffled. He refocused his gaze on Pocornia, seeing her lips move yet hearing none of what she said. His existence had led him to this moment, every observation and calculation made to spin his deceitful stories had finally paid off. He energetically tapped his hoof to the ground, trying to stave off the urge to shock his champion dead for he had one more final lie he had to tell. “You did it…” “No!” Pocornia roared, throwing her arm out to imply a boundary that shall not be crossed. “You killed them, they all went there for you and you killed them!” “They led themselves to their demise, not me. Not every pony can enter the dream world and not all of those ponies can cross the barrier into the spirit world. Very few living ponies can do what you have done!” The Dark Pony defended. “All you do is lie!” Pocornia sputtered. The Dark Pony chuckled. “You think I’m dishonest?” He asked. “All of those ponies entered the Gauntlet willingly. I did not force them...if they did it because they weren't smart enough to avoid their fate, they had it coming to them.” The Dark Pony paused, firmly pressing his front hooves against the ground. “I am not to blame for their failure when you have succeeded!” Pocornia got a sour taste in her mouth, realizing through the Dark Pony’s dismissal of blame affirmed her suspicion. She proceeded to let a moment of silence pass, letting it convey her opposition to her manipulator. “They all died...even he is dead because of you and he didn’t deserve to die!” “The Werewolf?” The Dark Pony clammed up for a moment, a brief weakness faltering his overbearing posture. “That must have been an unexpected turn of events…” Pocornia’s ears flopped down, her eyebrows tensing and her face seething with rage as she flared her teeth. “He told me what you really want the orb for and I'm not going to let you do it, I’m not going to let you change history!” The Dark Pony recomposed himself, re-directing his attention back towards writing his own ending for the story he had so carefully told to all of the actors involved. “Pocornia...You have suffered immensely on this journey, but it is finally time for you to complete your quest.” Pocornia shook her head in protest. “Pocornia...you have survived the Gauntlet’s horrors. You survived because you are special, I saw the gift in you at first glance...I can make sure that you, your lover and your friends all remain intact during this transition. You can choose to retire to a lifetime of frivolity!” Pocornia silently replied with a dense eyed look. “Or suffer one plagued by failure and despair…” The Dark Pony added. “You're talking normal for once. Does that mean your broken vacuum cleaner voice is a part of the act too?” Pocornia slyly inquired before violently stomping her hoof against the ground. “If you want it so bad, you’ll have to take it from me!” The Dark Pony reared his head back, a bitter annoyance vexing him. “You can’t possibly be this vain, I’ll kill you where you stand!” “Then do it!” Pocornia roared, using the orb’s magic to make a vibrant green flash emit behind her eyes. Straight away, her eyes caught an odd shadow a ways away. Her ears flopped down, her face riddled with shock and worry. She averted the Dark Ponies gaze, focusing on a taller and skinny looking eight legged creature of gargantuan size. Despite never having seen something like it, she was intimately familiar with the monster. “Kitty?!” Pocornia’s spider, her beloved kitty had pierced the dream world’s veil, presumably to fight alongside her. It propped its front legs up, threat posturing her. No, not at her, she realized it as she felt the Dark Pony’s hooves clasp onto the orb. Light emitted from the orb, shining so bright that it encapsulated them both. They left the dream world, together...