Bolt revs up his legs and begins slicing the walking dead that approach him in two, with swift slashes. Twilight’s magic surges from her horn as she blasts the moaning husks of ponies that would threaten her. While Bolt and Twilight were busy fending off the dead Vesper took her chance to strike.
“Dear depressed Bolt. It’s such a shame. Even with all your power you couldn’t save her.” The dragon’s eyes lock onto Vesper as she started pushing his buttons. “She was a darling girl. Gets her charm from my side of the family. You let her waste away like garbage.” Vesper’s words had driven the blue dragon into uncontrollable rage. The dragon gnashed his fangs together as he started salivating lava from his mouth. The molten liquid dripped onto the floor burning holes into the oak floorboards. He grasped the flaming pony before him and tore it in two tossing the halves aside. Vesper had the dragon right where she wanted him. “My my did I touch a nerve? I wonder what she’d be of all the wonders of the modern world. Too bad she’s rotting in the ground. Maggots using her skull as a breeding ground I’d wager.” Bolt’s anger grew into a furious force as his mouth begun to spew fire hotter than the embers of hell.
Soon the dragon had created a towering inferno as Vesper’s large manor was encompassed in flames. The burning spire could be seen as a large flaming torch across the giant wasteland. Driven to his primal instincts Bolt was unleashing mighty roars that shook the foundations of the tower. Twilight galloped for the exit seeing the place was coming down. She looked back and called out to her companion.
“Bolt you have to snap out of it. This is what she wants you to do.” Twilight’s pleas fell upon deaf ears as the rampage continued. Having loosened a few screws in the dragon’s head Vesper was pleased with herself. With that the elegant vampress turned to a black fog and faded away into the night on a cold wind. Twilight watched the tower topple collapsing in on itself. It took mere moments for the large tower to burn down to naught but ash and rubble. Bolt sat among the remains screaming from the very depths of his soul. His voice had grown weak and weary from the extended strain on his vocal chords.