Shortcoming
You looked back at the lake, your face scrunched up in pure, unadulterated rage. This ended now. If it didn’t, there’d be no telling who’d wind up in his sights next. He needed to pay the consequences for his actions. You muttered a quick apology to Pinkie, promising that you’d come back once Beaver was dealt with once and for all. You prayed that Pinkie was good at holding her breath.
You galloped off the dock and began your search for that psychotic maniac. From the direction he was heading, he was somewhere over on the opposite end of the lake, somewhere amongst the thicket and trees.
Big, grey storm clouds began rolling in, no doubt the work of the weather team. The area quickly grew dim, the sun’s light no longer beating down undeterred. Your pupils adjusted, dilating to allow more light in. As the distance to the place you last saw Beaver quickly diminished, you began shouting his name at the top of your lungs. You skidded to a stop, panting from your quick sprint whilst bellowing Beaver’s name. By Celestia, he’d hear you, and when he came for you, it would be his end.
Rain began to fall, quickly progressing from a soft mist to a roaring downpour. Lightning lit up the sky, temporarily blinding you before the following thunder blasted your eardrums like a drummer would a bass. Your patience grew thin. Your shouts turned into derogatory slander, calling Beaver as many names as you possibly could, each one more insulting than the last. That monster hadn’t showed his face yet but by Celestia, he would if it was the last thing you did.
You looked back at the dock, feeling a small tug on your heart. It still wasn’t too late to save her. Searching for Beaver like this was a lost cause. For all you knew, he could be halfway to Canterlot by now.
You berated yourself, having realised just how much of an idiot you were. You were too hasty in your decision and now somepony else was paying the price. Still, maybe there was enough time left to save her. You shook your head and began sprinting back to the dock. Before you could take your first step, your ears caught a faint sound, almost like a soft, metallic kerchak. The next instant, your back erupted in searing hot pain. You tripped over your own hooves, landing on your side screaming in pain. A pained glance at your back revealed the polished metallic handle-end of a knife.
Beaver’s knife.
Your screams of pain turned into ones of outrage. It felt as though a manticore had decided to shove its tail through your back. Everything started to grow cold. Your heart beat fiercely but your vision was slowly narrowing, like closing your eyes but much different. You tried to stand up, but undiluted waves of searing pain knocked you back down.
You coughed hoarsely, spitting something up on the ground as the telltale taste of iron flooded your tastebuds. The splotch was distinctly red, already beginning to dissolve due to the rainfall. Your examination of your own blood was cut short as the knife in your back was yanked out and shoved into your back once more. You screamed as the knife sunk up to its hilt in your back again, and again, and again...
You couldn’t think straight anymore, the only prevalent thought was that of tremendous pain. Your legs refused to budge anymore, your strength now flowing out of you in droves like your blood.
“You’re an idiot Saxxy, following me like that.”
Your ears picked up Beaver’s voice loud and clear. Your eyes weakly shifted in the direction of the noise, a hazy image of Beaver standing above you smiling maliciously filling your sight. You wanted to kill him, to make him pay for the wrongs he committed, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“You looked so helpless that I just couldn’t help myself. Don’t you know how foalish it was to run willingly into the dark where all the nasty creatures can get at ya—especially me?”
He holds something up in front of you, but you couldn’t make out what it was, save that it reflected the dim light well. Beaver began chuckling evilly as he twisted whatever it was in his outstretched hoof.
“I’m glad I brought a spare switchblade with me. If I didn’t, well, I guess we wouldn’t be having this conversation here now would we? But let’s face it Saxxy.” The blotch that was the knife suddenly grew a lot larger as he brought it next to your eyes.
“You’ve lost. Eh heh… Hahahh… HahahahahaAHAHAH!” His maniacal laughter echoed in your ears, echoing and echoing, refusing to stop. Oh how you wanted it to stop.
Peace and quiet was going to entrust you with this, as the object in question pierced your very skull, sending you spiraling into the black abyss.
*****
!?
Hmm, my my, I never knew this book had a couple pages stuck to each other. It makes me wonder if someone poured cider inside this book, or maybe a piece of chewing gum. Honestly, who would do such a thing? It’s bad manners, and it makes you look like a slob. I mean, look at it! Books have feelings too, you know?
!!!!!
Oh calm down, you should be happy to see me again. Then again, I’m not.
….?
Why am I here? It’s actually quite simple...
*WHAM*
#%!$#$!!!
Oh pipe down you insufferable twit. You deserved a rock hard kick in the ass after that. Do you have no common sense? You see your mare about to die and your first instinct is to chase after the murderer and for what? To get you both killed? I mean, what is wrong with you? Back when I was still alive, mares in a life threatening situation took priority over anything else.
Well, then again, none of them were really in situations like that, more like they complained over a chipped hoofnail, or had a toad in their salad. Something like that.
…..
That doesn’t answer your question? Here, I’ll explain it in a way that even you should understand:
You.
Are.
Dead.
!?!?!?
Yes, dead. Not asleep, not knocked out, not in a coma, dead. One hundred percent dead, game over, you lose, your life is over.
!!!!!
Well, don’t blame me, blame yourself. I told you before that if you screwed up, I’d be here to collect your soul and take you to heaven, or hell. It really depends on what the higher-ups think. I’m something more of a courier than anything else.
Now, are you ready to-- hey! There’s no point in running away: You go in one direction, you come out the other. It’s futile I say!
!?!?!?
Oh stop crying like a foal. If you didn’t want this, you should’ve paid more attention to your decisions. Now, lessee here... turn the scythe like this, think a few happy thoughts and... a-ha, there we go. See that glowing, white circle enveloping you? You’re about to face the Purgatory Judge. I hope he has mercy on a cruel soul such as yours. It’s a shame, I was having fun with you too, but all things must come to an end.
See you never, you heartless asshole.