//------------------------------// // The Mercy In Death // Story: War Pony: Song of A Snowbird // by CreeperZone //------------------------------// “MERCY, GO!” A young, tan-coated Pegasus pleaded with his life long best friend, a small snowcrow he named Mercy and knew her ever since he was a colt. The Pegasus went by the name of Silk, he was a Pegassian soldier in the army, although his recent desertion had led him here, to be betrayed by an old idol of his, to have his right wing cut through, bone and all. Now, he struggled to stand, trapped in a room with a vicious manticore that played with its prey. His only hope was that his friend not die with him. He left the hole open for his friend, who shook her head. “THIS IS NOT AN ARGUMENT MERCY, YOU'RE GOING!” He forcefully grabbed her, kissing her on the forehead before throwing her through the tiny exit. Mercy looked back through the hole at Silk, who had his crying eye pressed against it. “I love you,” he said, before feeling a paw grasp around his tail, yanking it back enough to feel like the skin was ripped off of his flank as he was thrown backwards into the room with a shattering sound of wood and bone as he collapsed into a wooden cupboard and the skeleton previously there as he broke its frail bones with his own. The lumbering beast strolled back to its now immobilised snack, done playing around now. It readied its stinger high above his head, the poison dropping off maliciously. Silk's weary head swerved up to see the beast, which intended to be his death, tower above him, leaving him lost in a dark shadow as the beast shielded Silk's sight of the sunset. Silk rustled in his encasement of wooden spears cutting into his back, refusing to die without putting up a fight. That would be a great dishonour to a Pegasus, especially a soldier like him. And now that he has lost everything else, his identity was the only thing he could call his own anymore. The beast climbed over the table in the center of the room, slamming down onto its colossal paws, a shudder hit Silk as the mountain rumbled from the monster's sheer weight. Silk pushed, feeling himself partly free himself from the carnage that covered him. A crumble of dust fell onto Silk's muzzle as the ceiling was gifted a thin crack of hope into its stone face. The beast went to swing down its stinger at its helpless prey, the prey that denied its death with all of its will. As the bony, jagged, poison soaked spear came at him, Silk still, in what seemed like his last moments, pushed. And what seemed like a miracle, he managed to fall forward, leaving the stinger crashing into the wall behind him, sending another large lightning bolt of cracks up the wall and into the ceiling, causing the beast to pause as its stinger stuck into the stone. Silk continued to push, crawling away with whatever body parts he still claimed control over. The beast roared at him, being enraged by his continued struggle, yanking its stinger back towards itself with a fearless strength. Although its mistake soon became apparent to the deadly creature as the crack gave way to a chunk of stone collapsing forward out of the wall. The manticore stopped the stone slab from slamming onto itself with a strong and fast placement of its right paw, then it had to use its left for another falling piece as the first paw only made things worse. Then it pressed up the entire side of its foreleg against the wall, watching as the cracks rose and grew in number, the ceiling about to collapse above it. Silk paid no mind, his thoughts only trained onto his own survival, ever so gently crawling forward, splinters hanging out of his back and other pony's bones caught in his path and dragged along. The manticore realized its predicament, dropping its pressure against the wall in favour of running. Though as it bolted away, it was slowed down by the piles of destroyed furniture that blocked its way out, the wall falling onto its back with a prominent crackle of its spine as a slab of rock broke against it. Although, using its mighty paws it lifted itself up along with the stone, nearly sliding out before a few chunks from the ceiling began falling as well, smashing into its neck and skull in a stunning blow. It had stopped moving. Silk, desperately tried to grind his way against the floor to make his escape, but he found himself dealing with the same problem as the monster as a flurry of massive stones came down around him. With luck, no stone crushed him to death instantly, instead several landing around him and breaking a few of the bones in his hind legs, along with one landing directly onto the wing he was helplessly attempting to crawl to freedom with. After a few deafeningly loud moments of stone cascading against itself, the mountain settled once more. Silk opening his tired eyes once more to see the door, with only the tiny hole he had made for his friend to escape through providing sunshine. Gazing to his side, the monstrous beast was stuck just like him, noticeably still alive as air still rushed in and out of its lips. It was only knocked unconscious, for now. Silk tried to push once more, feeling his legs scrape against both the floor and the stone trapping them. He could get them out, but it wouldn't be pretty. The more impassable obstacle seemed to be his only remaining wing completely flat out, pressed against the floor by an unliftable boulder. He pushed and pushed, loosening only his back legs, using the blood now pouring from them as lubricant to aid him, his wing not giving the same way. The stones around him suddenly rustled and he turned to the source of the movement to see the beast gradually begin awakening. He was running out of time, he had no choice. He grabbed one of the loose, snapped bones in between his teeth and he felt the dust enter his throat making him want to gag. Then, bracing himself beforehoof, he swung at the root of his left wing. The bone cut into it, blood gushing out and getting spread over his face and he cried out in pain, although it wasn't enough. He swung again, feeling it go deeper, and even deeper the third time. He then pushed once more, feeling his wing grow loose, not from beneath the stone, but the muscles from his torso. Using his adrenaline, his determination and possibly most important, his rage, he pushed, and pushed. Before he knew it, he felt the tendons separate as his own flesh came loose and his other wing left behind as he crawled out from beneath the stones. Over the course of what felt like years for him, he got to the door out of the room, slamming his hoof against it, and again, and again. Refusing death, continuing to push. The weak, damaged and rotted wood began to give way, a small splintery hole being formed at the point of impact. He heard a growl behind him, and the shifting of stones as the monster struggled behind him... Although the beast clearly was not able to dig its way out. The entire bottom section of the door broke open into a hole just large enough for Silk to pass through, doing it with great haste... And once he had pushed through, wood cut into his underbelly as he came through the door and he landed in the blanket of snow awaiting his worn, bleeding body and he felt the sun shine onto his gutted skin, he came to know one thing. He would not die that day.