Here is the disclaimer: I don’t own MLP: FiM, aside from my Pinkie, Rainbow, and Applejack figures. Oh, oops! I don’t own the RIGHTS to MLP: FiM. That belongs to Lauren Faust and Hasbro.
You Wouldn’t Believe Me if I Told You
Chapter 10: Speak Softly, and Carry a Sharp Blade
A grenade explosion sounded off in the distance.
A certain pink maned, yellow coated pony gave out a loud “Eeep!” and launched herself into the nearest tree out of fright.
Fluttershy, up until this point, had not done much more than creep around in the bushes and underbrush, looking around nervously in the hope of finding a friendly face, and shaking as if she were one with the leaves she was surrounded by. She had found a fully loaded 12 shot automatic shotgun in her bag, but that had just made her all the more jittery.
Now that she was off of the ground, however, she began to calm down. She scurried into a cluster of leaves growing out of the branch she was on, and lay down quietly.
“O-ok, Fluttershy, old girl. P-pull yourself together, now. There is nopony there, and nopony wants to hurt you. Just remember what Macky told you; ‘Everypony has a good side, if yer willin’ ta take a look.’ “
She stayed there for a few minutes, waiting for somepony to walk by to help her. Preferably Big Mac, obviously, but at the moment she was anything but picky.
Peering out of the foliage, she noticed that the bush a few meters from the base of the tree was shaking. Slightly, but more than is natural without any kind of wind. She stared at it, wide eyed, again apprehensive of who may be emerging from those bushes.
Her heart rate rocketing, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, and said again to herself, “Calm down, silly! It’s ok. It’s probably Twilight… or maybe the CMC. It’ll be fine. Nopony’s gonna hurt you.”
Suddenly, there was a strong jerk on her tail, which she had left hanging out of her cover. With a shrill, startled shriek she was yanked out of the tree and onto the ground below, landing with a thud on her chest and stomach with legs outspread. But before she had a chance to look around, something landed on her, securing a twisted headband in her mouth and pinning down her limbs.
“You can come on out, brother! I got her! And a pretty cute one, to boot!” said a disturbingly familiar voice.
A familiar looking stallion came out of the previously disturbed underbrush. He had a tan yellow coat, and a red mane with a white stripe down it. Even without his pinstriped get-up and round brimmed hat, he was unmistakable.
“Nice work Flam!” congratulated Flim (the one without the moustache), clopping his hooves on the ground in applause. “Excellent form on the mount! I always said you would have made a stellar show pony! Good use of that headband you got, too.”
“Why thank you, brother!” said Flam (the one with the moustache).
“You weren’t kidding when you said she was cute! She’s adorable!”
By now Fluttershy had begun to sob to herself, not entirely sure of exactly what was going on. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she shut her eyes tightly to dispel them. She tried to shake free, but her legs were firmly planted spread eagle on the ground under Flam’s hooves. She was already beginning to bruise from the treatment.
Flam, noticing her tears and discomfort, lowered his head down to her ear and spoke softly. “Hush now. We aren’t going to kill you; not yet, anyways.”
She looked up at him hopefully, but with some effort, craning her head back to hit him with her heart-stoppingly adorable face and large, round eyes. Her tears did nothing but make her even more precious.
Flim leaned in as well. “The next part is much more enjoyable when they are still alive.” He paused, narrowing his eyes and grinning nastily. He reached into his saddlebag and withdrew a long bladed dagger. “Not so much for you, however.”
Realization dawned on her suddenly, her eyes shooting wide and her heart stopping with a drop into her stomach. She began thrashing with all her strength, whimpering desperately. But the hoofhold was too strong, Flam too heavy, and help too far away to save her from the whims and pleasures of the two stallions.
Flam gave a nibble to her ear. He spoke in a low voice to her again as he lowered himself onto her writhing body. “Let’s begin. Shall we?”
Fluttershy wished fervently that Big Mac would come charging through the forest and lay these two perverted ponies low with a bone-crushing buck to the jaw.
But he did not.
Nopony did.
* * * * *
“Raaaarityyyy!”
The general silence of the forest was disrupted by the shrill call of a panicking young white unicorn, who was careening through the forest at top speed down an overgrown path. A large katana was hanging from a sheath fixed to her saddlebags, positioned down her side and bouncing as she ran.
“Raaaarityyy! Where are you!” she panted breathlessly. Her exertion and need for oxygen forced her into little more than a quick walk after a short while.
“I’m… just so scared…” she said quietly, allowing her voice to trail off slightly at the end.
“Who iz dere?”
Sweetie Belle froze in place, not entirely sure of whom had called out to her.
It came again.
“Allo? I tought I had heard somepony over dere.” The mare repeated casually, laced with a heavy Prench accent (from the country of Prance).
Sweetie remained rooted to the spot as a tall, thin light pink unicorn mare appeared through the bushes. She gasped at the beauty of the model in front of her, instantly familiar with the face.
“You…” she stammered, “you are the famous model, Fleur de Lis, right? I recognise you from the beauty product ads all over Canterlot! I love your work!” Sweetie had always wished to look even half as gorgeous as Fleur, but she was not all that hopeful. Not to be mistaken, Sweetie Belle was a good-looking filly in her early teens, but she just could not measure up to the mare before her. Now she was breathtaking!
“Why, oui! I am! Unt I am flattered zat you like my pictures. Zey are lovely. Unt zat iz because I am lovely!” she emphasized her last ‘I’ with the strike of a pose and a toss of a hoofful of her luxurious mane over her shoulder, glistening in the sunlight as it swooshed elegantly and perfectly into place.
Sweetie nodded in simple agreement, awed by her model and icon. All thoughts of finding her older unicorn sister were forgotten by this point. She was totally enraptured; captivated by the beauty of the unicorn she had found.
“But zen zere iz you!” Fleur started, advancing toward her admirer. “Are you not ze pretty young singer from Ponyville? Ze one unt only Sveetie Belle, ze vun vis ze voice of ze angels zemselves?”
Sweetie’s jaw dropped. Although they had never met, her idol knew her name from the mediocre fame she had won from the previous month’s singing competition, Equestrian Idol. She had recently gone viral on PonyTube, and was in the process of recording her first album. Her talent was singing, as evidenced by the chiming bell and treble clef adorning her flank.
At the moment, however, she was having a hard time speaking, let alone singing.
“Um... uh-huh,” she struggled to say.
“Vonderful! I vas dying to make your acquaintance sometime.” She put on a displeased face and waved her hoof in the air. “I only vish it vasn’t in such horrible circumstances.” She looked back to the young mare. “Come ‘ere, young Sveetie Belle, you must be so frightened by all of zis!”
Sweetie approached the shimmering unicorn with the reverence most would use to approach a lower god. She raised both of her front hooves in the air and embraced the tall, perfect figure, running her dirty hooves in the pristine mane and fur at the base of Fleur’s neck. Fleur made no motions to discourage the action. In fact, she put one foreleg around Sweetie’s neck as if to comfort her. Sweetie shuddered with restrained sobs, dampening the light pink coat of the perfect image of a unicorn mare.
Fleur adjusted her weight slightly and lowered her head to rest against Sweetie’s, and said, “Vould you mind terribly to be singing for me?”
“”R-right… (hic)… right now?” she stammered through tears. “I… I don’t think I’d be any good right now.” She smiled weakly through her teary face.
Fleur lifted her head and sighed. “Pity.”
The hoof over Sweetie’s shoulder grasped the hilt of her katana, and, in one swift, fluid movement she buried it deep in the chest of the unprepared filly pop star. So far, in fact, that it came clear out the other side, protruding from her back like a curved horn, glistening a deep crimson gathered from its journey.
The shock and the pain of the impact left her with her eyes and mouth gaping wide. She struggled to take in a breath, but she could not draw in any air. She tried again and again with no success. All she could do is stand there and grasp Fleur’s neck tightly as she bled out through her chest and back. Her strength was quickly failing as the world began to swim in front of her eyes.
“I vould have liked for me to be ze last to hear zat vonderful voice, but I guess ve can’t get everysing ve vant,” she loosed the gasping unicorn off of her and thrust her off with a burst of force on the sword’s hilt. Sweetie tumbled backwards, sheath clattering, body bleeding and useless. The bloodied sword remained in Fleur’s hoof, which was also drenched in blood.
“Look vat you did,” Fleur tisked, frowning poutily. “Now, after I ‘ave gotten ze stars, I must be vashing my beautiful hooves.”
Sweetie’s body went limp, and the world went black.
“Zey are beautiful, are zey not?”