Chapter 9 - The secret of my wrath
Time is a fickle thing. It all depends on perspective and the amount of adrenaline pumped into one’s system. And I was full of adrenaline.
Well, you done goofed. You can hardly take them all at once.
Fuck you.
Look at you, exhausted already. You’ve only manage to escape unscathed so far because of sheer luck, and now you’re out of juice. Even that excessive speech was just a desperate, last ditch ploy to buy more time. Of course the wolves didn’t listen to you, they can see right through your blatant weakness.
What’s your point? You want to rub it all in?
Any other time? Yes. But quite frankly I’m disappointed that you tried to apply so much logic to this situation. Those beasts don’t obsess over it like you do and they aren’t driven by emotion like you are either. And don’t give me any of that ‘detached from my emotions’ crap, we both know it’s bullshit.
Care to explain what it is that drives them then? I mean, I’m about to get mauled beyond recognition by a pack of angry timberwolves, so you can at least cut the crap.
Ugh it’s so obvious, it exists in pretty much everything…
Instinct!
Sure, they can use rational thinking to formulate plans and their emotions can tell logic to fuck off, but their driving force is their primal instinct. Eat, shit and fuck. Or tree-planting… whatever weird-ass stuff they do to reproduce. My point is that they’re impulsive and unrestrained - they don’t have morals, or laws to limit them. They persist and dominate everything in their power, be it mates, packs or prey.
And how do you fight an instinctive opponent? I mean, logic is too limited while emotion simply doesn’t give clear enough direction. So, how do you have to fight in order to be on equal grounds with something that fights without restraint?
You fight without restraint yourself, Fucktard! But no, that’s not good enough for you is it? The trembling, the quaking, the lust for blood? You hold it back; you fear it because you’re not strong enough to dominate it and you’re worried about your precious, insignificant values.
A voice, a symbiote, a parasite. Call me what you want, end of the day it’s this simple: if you die, I die. And I don’t want to die yet. Still got plenty of arson, murder and jaywalking to do before I kick the bucket.
So, what you need to do here is simple - give in to your bloodlust. Admit it, that feeling is what defines you, that feeling is what makes you feel alive. You felt it with the manticore, why is this any different? It isn’t, and our right now you’re just as fucked as before.
I’m still not completely sure what possessed me to listen to it. It was probably just a desire not to die, or maybe I really was just sick of restraining myself for the sake of those ponies. Regardless, I cut loose.
And it felt fantastic.
As the wolves closed in I flew ahead. There was no thinking about it, no weighing the pros and cons. Just action, and the true feeling that I was alive. I desensitised myself to anything that wasn’t useful: taste, scent, pain. I ignored the incoherent cries of Applebloom and I took no note of my previous exhaustion. I felt only a desire to utterly destroy any resistance, revelling in my adrenaline-fueled frenzy.
Forget assistance from Twilight and Fluttershy - I was going to deal with the timberwolves faster than they could arrive. And I was going to enjoy it. Nothing any pony could do about it.
The first wolf pounced at me, soaring higher than one would normally expect. Then again, normally the wolf would have expected me to be surprised. I gave absolutely zero fucks; I just grabbed its wooden body and threw it to the ground.
An explosion of branches and chunks of tree came from the impact, scattering bits of timberwolf in all directions. As before, the creature’s heart rolled along the ground, encased in its mystical aura as it prepared the reconstruction process. Raising my foot high, I stomped hard on the pine-cone like ‘organ’, my intent to kill the creature almost palpable.
*CRUNCH*
This time there was no howl from its brethren, nor did I feel an ounce of remorse. Without any pause in the action the pack continued its vengeful assault, biting and slicing like the savage beasts they were.
They came from all directions at once. Left, right, in front, behind, even from above. They came at me with everything they had, leaving me no time to dodge or form any kind of defensive stance.
I loved it.
This unlimited, no holds barred fight was what I needed: a complete and utter beatdown, no logic and no holding back. Only striking and smashing until nothing remained but bloody stains in my wake. During that short period of time, the only purpose my existence held was destruction. And destroy I did.
I grabbed the nearest timberwolf and span to gain momentum before flinging it into one of its kin. Both broke apart in a thunder of branches and given the chance I would have finished both of them off right there and then, but I was interrupted by the rest of the pack.
More accurately, I was interrupted by the jaw that was currently clamping down on my left forearm.
“Bloody nuisance,” I muttered as my fist connected with the wolf’s ‘skull’. A hollow*THUNK* resounded from the blow, echoing through its hollow body and wooden form.
The pressure on my arm loosened, leaving carmine blood to flow freely from the shallow wound. Each droplet of the precious liquid that fell to the ground stained the normally brown dirt black. I gazed at the sight with avid fascination, inspecting the ground as if it held the answer to some great and unspoken mystery. It didn’t. It was just some blood mixed into dirt, something so many others had seen before me.
The timberwolves retreated a few metres and with the action having suddenly paused, I took the time to observe my adversaries. The wolf I had just taken out had split apart and rolled over to its brethren, while the other two were reconstructing themselves piece by piece post collision.
The alpha stood in the centre of the others like a statue, the astute lack of movement somehow expressing his command and dominance over the pack. Its leafy eyebrows were furrowed and its crimson eyes narrowed, as it seemed to visualise impaling me with imaginary spears. That’s a good few steps up from staring daggers at someone, not that I cared at the time though.
The mega-wolf was off to the right of the pack, an imposing tower of a beast that cast an ominous shadow across its kin. While the others stood at about one-and-a-half metres tall, this behemoth stood at at least three. It was like comparing a freshly grown shoot to a gigantic oak that dwarfed all those beneath it. Except the oak also had claws and teeth. Either way it looked bloody dangerous. Then again, like I gave a damn.
I ran headlong in the direction of the mega-wolf, sprinting at the beast with a speed comparable to some exotic sports car. I may have been a crappy runner but boy did I fly towards my target. Hell, even the timberwolves surprised, if the raising of their leafy eyebrows was any indication.
Closing the gap in a few seconds, I leaped into the air. Easily reaching the head height of the wolf (which, under normal circumstances would have surprised me immensely)I twisted my body to kick it in the head but was swatted out of the air by the gargantuan beast.
My mind flashed back to my battle with the manticore, when much the same thing had happened before. Except while before I landed in a heap, this time I collided full force with a tree.
I collapsed to the ground, my strength sapping away like helium leaking from a tear in a zeppelin. While I slowly deflated I resolved to get to my feet at least. After all, the only things on my mind were: ‘CRUSH, KILL, DESTROY, SWAG’ and how could I do any of those things lying down?
Especially swag. One cannot have swag while lying down.
I rolled onto my front, planted my hands on the floor and began pushing myself up. My muscles strained as they exerted themselves, expelling an electro-chemical cry to just give in and accept defeat. I couldn’t stand it. Baddum-psh! See what I did there? Sorry. I’ll move on now.
Imagine trying to push the earth down as opposed to pushing oneself up, trying to feebly muster an impossible degree of strength.
Lifting myself off the ground, I planted a foot underneath my body and continued my struggle against gravity. Slowly but surely I rose, eventually getting to my feet and leaning against a tree, though I was not given a moment of respite as the mega-wolf continued it assault.
Slicing and clawing like the wild beast that it was, the wolf kept on attacking relentlessly. Despite its tenacity and size, the beast was also slow and predictable. Pushed to my absolute limit, my bloodlust nearly evaporated in place of my need to survive. Valuing my life over bloodshed, I started to bob and weave, dodging the oncoming strikes. I slid and sidestepped to avoid each attack, many of them barely missing me.
I was thankful that the rest of the pack holding back and I could clearly see why they were doing so: the big guy had pretty bad aim and could easily have taken out his buddies. The bad aim and the remaining wolves’ lack of interference are probably the only reasons I made it out alive.
The dodging continued for a short while - the blood-haze state I was in makes it hard to make a guess on how long, but I’d say it lasted about a minute-and-a-half before I started my counterattack. It started with the occasional punch between the wide swings of the between, forcing it onto a back foot (hind leg?) as I worked to stall its offensive.
Over a relatively short time I built my strikes up. An extra punch here, a quick elbow there. I quickly moved up to including a few kicks, throwing in a couple of roundhouses to keep it on its toes. It took a while, but eventually the wolf got sloppier and sloppier, letting its frustration get the better of its fighting instinct.
The beast pulled back its left foreleg and preformed a huge swipe with its claws in a feeble attempt to lop my arm off. It was a heavy hit that would do tremendous damage that would’ve done tremendous damage had it connected. Then again, the reason it was a feeble attempt was that it was incredibly slow…. and because it left the rest of the wolf completely undefended.
I saw the blow coming in from my right, lethargic yet thunderous. As it closed in I tried to measure the distance, calculating for the best time to strike. I saw the opening: a relatively thin layer of wood on the beast’s carapace, close to its ‘armpit’, that was completely exposed.
My opportunity was right there, clear as day. I didn’t hesitate for a second - I took it. No, I grabbed it and ripped it from the mantle of opportunity; I took an unlikely possibility and turned it into my desired reality. I’d like to see a two-bit piece of shit timberwolf pack do that.
I locked my arm up with a clenched fist and lunged forwards. Pushing off with one foot, I threw the hardest punch I had ever thrown in my brief existence. Time seemed to slow as I saw my hand fly past my field of view, travelling to its target with a desire to kill, independent of its owner. It collided with the chest of the beast with a bone smashing *CRACK*.
I had expected a colossal shower of wood, my adversary shattering into pieces wherein I could then stomp the life out of each of the three hearts inside its chest. Well, I’m not sorry to say that’s not what happened. You see, my fist didn’t just hit the wood. It punched straight through it.
My arm sank into the timberwolf’s hollow body, covered in shallow cuts and miniscule splinters. As the possessed hand unclenched itself and its fingers unfurled, my palm was greeted with three small pinecones. Given the situation, very few words came to mind; but some did, those words being:
“I’m gonna put my pain into your soul!”
I roared as I crushed all three of the timber-hearts, releasing all of my pent up rage and teenage angst in a headache-inducing cry. The alpha emitted a cry of its own, but with not nearly as much feeling in it. It was a pitiful sound, almost a whine but much, much louder.
I looked up at the remaining wolves, expecting another fight. At this point I truly had burned out, not a drop of energy left. The only reason I was still standing was because my leg muscles had clenched up, a pre-emptive rigor mortis. I wasn’t scared of dying - I was far too full of adrenaline, fear just didn’t register. I mean, normally, I’d have been scared shitless.
I think the weirdest thing was that I wasn’t sad that that was the end. It had been a good fight: a fight worth living and a fight worth dying for. Completely stupid idea, utterly ridiculous, I know. But hey, that’s how I felt, no two ways about it.
I expected it to be the end, so I was more confused than anything when the wolves started whining and yelping. Before my eyes the wolves… well, had a change of heart is probably the easiest way of putting it. Their ‘aura’ shifted from a shadowy black to a leafy green, followed by their crimson eyes turning to a deep lime.
And with that, they left. Just sprinted off, retreating to the forest from which they came. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure their tails were between their legs too. Or maybe I’m just remembering things the way I’d like them to be, who knows.
My legs relaxed and I fell to the ground, panting in exhaustion. I didn’t get the chance to make some snarky comment about making them my bitches, as I was interrupted by a loud, echoing *CRACK*
I turned my head in the direction of the obnoxious sound to find a three bemused mares: Applejack, Fluttershy and Twilight. One of them had a look of worry and concern plastered to her face, the look of someone expecting the worst - eyes wide, eyebrows high, teeth chattering. No cookies for guessing who that was.
The other two had similar sentiments, though from their less active outward states one could assume they weren’t nearly as powerful as that of certain orange cowpony. Who was most likely scared out of her mind over the condition of her brother who was bleeding out…
Oh yeah… So that’s why I was fighting. Wait… what about Applebloom!?
I span my head around in search of Applebloom to find her silently ushering Fluttershy over to the still-prone body of Big Mac. It didn’t take a great deal of inspection to see that he had lost quite a lot of blood, considering how large the pool of crimson around him had grown.
For a second I was worried he might not pull through, a feeling that wasn’t helped by how green Fluttershy turned.
Then again, this is a world where magic is the norm. There’s probably a spell for that…
A feeling that was helped by the way in which she immediately rushed to his side and began removing various medical devices from her saddle bag. Her expression was unique and quite difficult to describe, the closest comparison I can think of being an artist who was completely engulfed in their flow.
That diligence is way beyond just saving a life… and that fear of messing up is definitely more than what someone would have for a stranger… could she… and him? Then again, this is a lot of pressure -for someone so timid, even more so- and this is the brother of one of her best friends. Besides, she’s so shy! No way that would work...
I shifted my gaze over to Applejack, who had collapsed where she stood with numerous beads of sweat lining her brow. Hell, she looked even more exhausted than me! I doubt she was, but she certainly looked it.
And then came Twilight. Woop-de-doo.
“What in Equestria happened here!?” she screamed. She was definitely a professional at overreacting. Actually, given the circumstances that was probably a perfectly reasonable reaction. Oh, and you definitely know you’re a bit of a psycho when your response is:
“I powdered my cockatiel for the ribcage slaughter!”
Close enough.
“Uh, what?” asked Twilight, her face scrunched up in confusion over my random outburst.
“Well, err...”
“Applejack, Ah believe you owe David here yer thanks,” interrupted Granny Smith, her withered yet forceful voice cutting through my incoherent mumbling, just as how Moses parted the Red Sea. Actually, I consider anything that could shut me up to be pretty rapturous so that might be a slight exaggeration.
As for Applejack, well she just laid there. No sounds left her, but the mouthing of the words ‘thank you’ was enough. I didn’t do it for thanks anyway; I did it for the fight. No, that’s not quite true either… No, I did it for Applebloom - she’d done well by me and she deserved to be paid in kind. 0
Always did have a soft spot for crying children. Hell, I used to be one of them, so I knew that all it took was a push in the right direction and they wouldn’t cry anymore. I also knew what happened if they were left to their own devices and that image really didn’t suit the adventurous little filly before me.
“It’s nothing,” I replied brusquely. I didn’t really know how to deal with praise and I had a severe distaste of having all eyes on me, being far too used to people looking at me with less-than-pleasant expressions.
“That wus not nothing! You beat those timberwolves harder than that time Ah found out about that good-fer-nothin’ colt that wus foolin’ ‘round with Applejack back the day! Sent them right back into the Everfree Forest, an’ I ain’t never seen somethin’ like that before.”
“Wait, you beat the timberwolves all by yourself!?” exclaimed Twilight, her voice high and strained, the sound of surprise. “But, how?”
“Violence, and lots of it,” was my response. It was a rough sound, full of sensations like pain and exhaustion. Both flooded my body as the effects of the adrenaline receded, yet it was matched by only one other feeling: fulfilment. “I’m lucky that they fight off attrition instead of applying a killing blow, otherwise I’d be done for.”
Twilight shook her head, “Nu’uh, normal wolves might be pursuit predators but timberwolves are ambush predators and always go straight for the kill.” She looked over at me once more and frowned.
“If anything, your wounds are pretty odd by timberwolf standards - they use their teeth a lot more than their claws and they usually target the neck, yet you have no injuries anywhere near yours...”
I was about to complain, asking whether or not she doubted what I said, but my concerns were laid to rest when she continued her contemplative monologue.
“Not that I doubt you or anything! They’ve probably never seen a human before and weren’t sure where the neck was, or something. I don’t know, it’s just… weird, that’s all. Anyway, we’d better get you patched up - we wouldn’t want any of your wounds to get infected, and if we let you out who knows what Equestrian fauna will start hunting you next.”
My desire to be macho and to tell her that I was fine was outweighed by the fatigue washing over me, my senses returning completely and hitting me like a freight train. I was just too tired to argue, so I went along with what she said, for the time being at least. And then all was good and I went home and everyone lived happily ever after. The End.
Ha, I wish.