A Short Story

It was raining outside.

No, not the rain that gently tap-tippity-taps on the rooftops and leaves the ground soaking wet, but rather the rain that leaves the poor roof tiles thundering from the artillery shells of liquid life that continued to smash themselves against them. This was the kind of rain that a small, dark blue pegasus was forced to listen to as he lay there in his bed, eyes staring off into the darkened room as his hooves trembled from the terrifying dream that was still lingering about in the recesses of his mind. He had been wrapped in parchment, thrown into a coffin that was shaped like a thick book, and set aflame by a ghostly figure that bore no resemblance to anypony he had known, and after seconds of burning agony he finally tore his way back into the waking world to a clash of thunder resounding through the room with a brilliant flash of white, blinding light.

And then, things happened.

Things that changed the blue pegasus' life forever.

He began to write again.

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[Chaodiurn]

Feed me with your darkness, feed me with your pain!