Void opened her eyes, taking In the room. Like the train car, the room she was trust up in was now covered in blood. Cracks in the wall leaked the stuff, along with a thick, yellowish-Whitish color liquid that she guessed was pus. She began to back up toward the corner, so she wouldn't bump into a dead body. Well, she didn't bump into a dead body. The one she bumped into was alive.
It was her; well, the her from the mirror during her last dream. The red armor, the wicked Claws, the sickening, Glass-shard teeth. As she stood in the corner, her eyes glowed a swirling blood red, shining on her like a searchlight. She stalked out of the corner, one of her Claws scraping on the floor. The knife-on-chalkboard sound pierced her ears, causing her to clutch them in pain. Creepy-her began to laugh her twisted laugh, circling the weak and quivering Void. With a creepy, yet silky voice that sounded like something from one of rarities operas, she began to sing.
"🎵Hush-a-bye, don't you cry.🎵"
"🎵Go to sleep, my little baby.🎵"
"🎵When you wake, you will have.🎵"
"🎵All the pretty ponies.🎵"
"🎵Blacks and bays, dapples and grays.🎵"
"🎵All the pretty ponies.🎵"
"🎵Way down yonder, in the meadow.🎵"
"🎵Poor little baby crying mama.🎵"
"🎵The birds and butterflies flutter around her eyes.🎵"
"🎵Poor little baby crying mama.🎵"
"🎵Can you see the little ponies dance before your eyes.🎵"
"🎵All the pretty ponies....Will be there when you....arise.🎵"
"Sweet dreams. Oh, wait. No they won't."
Then, all that filled her dreams was laughter. Sick, twisted, laughter.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The torture lasted another Two days. Cold bit, if nothing else, was creative. He choked her with a rope, cut her with knives, beat her, shoved out cigars into her hooves. Her and Tempest had spent every free moment trying to find a way out, but had found nothing. Ropes were too thick to break, and they had nothing to cut them with. And there was only one way out of the room; the door Cold used. Which he locked after he left.
On day three, he opened the door. Right on schedule. This time he had the same thing he did the first time, a barbed, heated knife. He, as always, wore a disarming grin, one you would see in ponyville. Well, the smile; not the red leather, the knife, or the sadistic look in his eyes. Well, maybe on pinkie? For f**** sake! I am not, an equestrian!
He said, "Good news, Pricks! I am bored with you, and so will be letting you go! This is the last time!"
Normally, this would be a good thing. They would be set free. But, if his words two days ago, and Tempests description of the last one were any indication, their 'Release', would involve them being killed. Thrown off the ship to be specific.
Unlike most times, he went over to Tempest first. His knife was held just under her hunched torso, making it seem like he was going to cut her. Instead, he raised the blade so the top of it was poised at the base of her shattered horn. He grinned.
"Let me, re-open, that for you." With that, he lowered the knife to just above her scar. Tempest tried to shut the eye, but Colds aura held it open. The tip of the knife pressed into the flesh on the base of her forehead. She winced, but continued to look at her torturer. He then slashed the blade down the length of the scar, not even slowing as the scalding hot blade made contact with her eye.
As the blade left her skin, she fell the the ground, bowling in pain. As she rolled over, Void got a good look at the wound. Her old scar, faded down to a simple white line, was now re-opened. Fresh blood and pus spilled out of the gash, running down her face to her nose. Her eye no longer resembled an eye; it more so looked like a piece of burnt egg. Fluid gushed out of it, adding to the display on the floor.
"Oh, quit whining. The cut isn't deep enough to require healing. Let the blade run its course, and you'll be fine. Not sure how much good it'll do you, but it will," He said. He turned and walked over to Void. His bloody knife hung loose in his grip, and Void realized her only chance at escape. She and Tempest both didn't have a bridle; Cold had just been standing too far away. When he Cut Tempest, he was right in front of her. If he did the same, Then maybe she could grab the knife with her teeth.
He stood in front of her, grinning his typical grin. He lazily swung the knife back and forth, seeking to enjoy himself. He then pressed the blade up to her neck. The hot blade hissed when it met her flesh, but she stayed as still as possible. If she moved too much, Then the blade may go deeper. He, still looking at her, slid the blade over to a small area on her neck. "This place, in your throat. When I cut it, the heat will cauterise the wound. It will hurt like hell, and I will enjoy it deeply. But my magic won't be necessary to heal it."
As he continued to grin, Void picked up something on her ears. It was a light ringing. Suddenly, the whole ship rocked to the side, sending Cold sprawling, and his knife falling to the floor right in front of her. Wasting no time, Void grabbed the knife and cut her bonds, just as Cold Bit got up.
He growled, and his horn began to glow. Just before he could do whatever spell he had planned, Void got within striking distance. She slashed at his horn, and with him preparing a spell, he was defenceless. The scalding, razor sharp blade cut through his horn like a hot knife through butter. It fell, steaming to the ground as he fell in pain. Void was on him in a second, pressing her forehoof to his neck, raising the knife over hi with her other. He whimpered, "mercy."
He sounded exactly like that dog that she let life in the desert. He was just as pathetic looking too. But unlike then, she felt no pity. How many innocent ponies had asked of him the same thing? She had seen first hand, just what he could do it let live. So, she had no problem pinning him to the floor with the knife, the hilt sticking out of his wide open mouth. He seemed to gag on it, bubbly blood leaking out of his mouth. She felt no pity, as she began to pat him down, looking for the keys.
Upon finding them, she shoved it into the door, turning it open. But before she made a rush for freedom, she grabbed two things. One, the knife from Colds gurgling mouth. Two, tempest, who she wrapped her forehoof around her shoulder, and began to lead out of the room.
She found herself in a pretty nice office. A desk, a map, a few books; all of it looked pretty cozy. It would have been homely; if it didn't belong to a psychopath. Pushing open the door again, she found herself in the deck of the ship. They were up in the air, flying along at a leisurely pace. A few of the others were running around, manning the....Ballista? Before Void could figure out what was going on, a explosion went both her and Tempest flying into the railing. Due to her higher up position, she was sent flying OVER the rail, free falling into the air.
She saw Tempest lean over the side. She yelled, "Voiddd!!" Then, she and the ship vanished, concealed from the falling Void by the rapidly moving, stark white Clouds.