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// Hunger 
// Story: A Mad Book of Ramblings 
// by Changeling-Writer 
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Hunger, a deep primal hunger was all that pulled me forward. The craving for food, the desire to fill full. To end the pain of emptiness. To find something, it was what pulled my legs. That kept me breathing, my heart beating. Thinking was something that was pointless, legs moving as if they were tied to strings, all that mattered was forward, To find food, to find something that would fill the void. Thinking was not for animals, animals didn’t think about what would happen in a year. they were worried about food and water, food, I was hungry, and I needed something to eat. The cracked and dry soil under hooves, dead grass, broken wood and rocks. Not food, grass centuries old would make me sick, and I couldn't eat rocks.

"Hey! Stop right there!" A close voice called out in front of me. I looked up, confused. It was odd... The stallion had his pistol leveled at me. A haphazardly looking thing. Rusted and in disrepair. It looked like the stallion had picked it up out of a pool of water. The metal crusty and wood cracked. He looked mad, or was that just annoyed? Well he seemed to be glaring at me or was there somepony behind me? "You ain't crossing my bridge without a toll." 

I looked around, seeing there wasn't a single pony he could be talking to. Other than me. Then looking back at the... Yes, it was a stallion. That was easy to tell, he was covered in oil and dirt. And had an unruly mop of hair atop his head. He looked like he smelled like an old skywagon, Likely with the long dead bodies that stained the fabric as well. The messy and ripped up clothing hidden under metal plates from old sighs. Hammered and nailed together to make armor. I just kept looking over at him. It was hard to tell what color his fur was under all the grime that stained him and his armor. He looked to be a light blue turned dirty brown under the dirt and oil.

"You hear me slick? You can pay the toll or I'll give you two seconds to run the other way before I start shoot'n." He explained or tried to as his horn glowing an odd shade of orange. A smirk pulling at his lips as if something he had said had been amusing. I didn’t understand what the joke was, But I didn’t ask. I was hungry, so hungry and his words ment so little. He was just standing there. He didn't need all of his legs did he? Maybe he would let me eat one? I was just so hungry.

I moved forward, a small smile pulling at my lips. Finally! Something to satisfy my hunger. Something I could eat! I didn't even notice when he pulled the trigger, the bullet ripping through my leg. It wasn't till I was almost on him did his anger shift to fear. It was odd, the look of horror that filled his eyes. Did he not understand how much he would help? How he would he help me no longer be hungry? He would become part of me, he would live on in some way. In a better way. He wouldn’t hunger again, he would be saved from the pain of withering away. He would be food and from that he would be saved. As he saved me from my growing hunger.

"What I'm Tarterus are you!?!" He yelled, firing blindly, trying to get away.Stumbling back as the last bullet filled the air with its sound. Five holes, five empty casings yet the pain meant nothing. Not compared to the hunger, the hunger was far more painful than the holes that the rusty revolver had left in my flesh. They would heal once I ate, they would vanish one I had been allowed to eat. The sound of the firing pin clicking against nothing was interrupted by a sickening crunch. The stallion let out a scream, his leg bent at an unnatural angle, the bone protruding from his leg, slowly staining his fur crimson. He fell over as he held his injured leg close to his barrel, Even as my horn glowed and the ebony magic bubbled and twisted off of my horn in thick cords. Cords that had whipped out and shattered his leg, That made the blood leaking out of his wound bubble and move as if trying to come to life.  

"Fuck! You mother Fucker! I'm go-" he yelled, his words turning into pained gurgling as I bit down on his neck. He tried to kick, to fight. But it was no use, why didn't he see that? He was dead, but soon. He would be so much more. He would be food. He would be saved from living his life hungry, He would never need food, he would be one with me. He would be better and so would I. I would no longer be hungry. He would be better than before. Flesh gave between my teeth, screaming turned into nothing but bubbling agony. The taste of food, Bite after bite, hardly chewed as the cooling food slowly stopped twitching, Slowly grew still as its warm blood stained the wooden boards of the bridge. Slowly the hunger was pushed back, slowly tears began to trail down my blood stained cheeks as I stepped back. Looking over the mutilated body of the pony. 

Oh, it tastes horrific. The copper flavor of blood assaulted my tongue, the feeling of blood drying to my fur. The stench of death. The feeling of flesh stuck between my teeth, And the pain of the twisted magic that slowly died leaving the cracked form of my horn behind. Tears continued to run and turn red as they rolled down my cheeks as I looked at the pony I had just devoured in the open. The pony whose blood I was covered in. I fell to the ground shivering and wishing I could throw up. That I could get it all out. But I knew what would happen if I did. I knew that it was pointless. Life was pointless, yet I couldn’t die.

"I... I did it again, I.... I'm so sorry. I never... I never wanted to do this!" I said, tears streaming down my face. I held myself, the world just crushing me. The monster was winning. He was going to win, and that would be the end of everything. Everything I had worked for, everything I left behind to try and keep safe from the twisted monster. Soon it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would matter. Because it always grew hungry, it always craved food, and it only ever wanted something that was alive. Something that breathed. The monster didn’t care what or who, it just wanted to feed.