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// Confrontation 
// Story: Snapshots 
// by Shingo 
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A pale stallion sat in a throne room. He was wearing a black cloak and at his side was a wine glass full of a deep red liquid. His throne sat at the top of a small flight of stairs and the chamber had four candelabras standing in it, each with three candles gently burning. Behind his throne were two blood red curtains hanging from the ceiling. He was gently swirling the liquid when a bang came from the entrance way. The doors again let out a banging sound and flew open. On the other side was a white unicorn mare with a curled purple mane. She was wearing a midnight blue overcoat and had a metal whip levitating at her side. She rushed in and stood at the foot of stairs. On her face was a look of determination.

“Monster!” she cried. “You don’t belong in this world!” A small smile appeared on the stallion’s face.

“Don’t belong?” he asked. “It is not by my hoof that I am again given flesh. I was called here by ponies who wish to pay me tribute.” The mare let the whip hang limply.

“Tribute?!” she scoffed. “You steal ponies’ souls and make them your slaves!” The stallion took a sip from his glass.

“Perhaps the same could be said of Celestia,” he laughed. The mare’s eyes narrowed.

“Your words are as empty as your soul!” she said. “Pony kind ill needs a saviour such as you!”

“What is a pony?” he asked swirling the glass. “A miserable pile of friendship.” He threw the glass off to the side shattering it, allowing the liquid to soak in the floor.

“But enough talk,” he stood up from his throne and threw off his cloak, revealing a pair of bat wings. The wings unfurled to their full length. He looked at the pony with a malicious smile on his face. “Have at you!” He rushed forwards, ready to fight, and she did the same with her whip at her side.

And so they fought.