"What the buck is that thing"
"Ugh... Smells like a corpse"
"Why's it so cold. I've never seen a Diamond Dog bitch like this before."
"Oh who cares, it killed a bunch of ponies. Can't wait to watch it swing."
Ever have one of those days? Well I was having one that's for sure. As if being captured by ponies, twice in one life time I might add, wasn't bad enough... They'd turned me into a public display. There I sat in my cage, right in the middle of a busy intersection with nothing for company but my soul born cloak and Pravus. The second of which, I feel the need to add, had nothing to say unless in involved killing. As much as I really wanted to I kind of couldn't at the moment.
I'll say this for these guys, they were smarter than the villagers of Colt's Breath by a long shot. They'd bound my hands tight enough for me to actually feel the bindings cutting into my flesh. When I moved one of my wrists enough I could feel, and see, the rope scraping over the bone. Didn't hurt but it wasn't exactly pleasant you know? No, no you don't but just imagine if you will the feeling of your bones vibrating softly as a rough substance rubs over them with just enough friction for you to feel it faintly right up to your elbows. Maddening I tell you, simply maddening.
Enough about that, I'd hate to make you squeamish before I get to the really good part after all, you know, the part where they try and kill me in a public spectacle.
Sitting there in that cage was boring, degrading, and more than a little filthy. Some enterprising stallion had seen a business opportunity and had began selling rotten produce to the populous to pelt me with. Two words dear readers...
NOT. FUN.
I suppose I should make mention of the fact that I was in the city of Neighsville. Home of twangy guitars, low down blues music, and a startling number of rotten tomatoes, cabbages, carrots, and more than a few melons. For those taking notes, the last one there hurts the most and causes the most mess. With nothing I could do about it I was in a rather piss poor shape.
While my powers, still not sure if they can be called magic, dampened as they were I was helpless here. A sitting duck, and they all knew it. For three days I'd been sitting here, and every day right around noon someone'd start up a good hour long session of throwing things at me. Is it any wonder that I was now probably the most matted sack of fur and bones anyone'd ever see? No? Didn't surprise me either. What did surprise me once again was the complete and utter xenophobia of the ponies. Seriously, how could the show have been so wrong about these guys?
Whole families would turn up just to pelt the monster in the cage with rotten plant matter, parents telling their children that this was the right thing to do to anything different than them. Oh my ears heard every word. My eyes might've been half glued shut from all the sticky shit coating my fur and all I could smell was rotten vegetables and such, but my ears worked just fine.
"See this my little colt? This is what all of them deserve. We're better than things like this mindless beast, far far better. This is actually a kindness to it, oh no not the pelting, but the hanging tomorrow son. We'll come watch it swing after a short drop and a sudden stop. If you behave I'll even make sure we get something to remember the day by, how's that sound?" I heard one mare saying to her child. If I could have been I might've felt ill over that.
As it was I slowly, and much to the shock of the ponies standing around outside my cage and prepping their next projectiles, stood up. I was forced to stoop due to the cramped quarters, but hey I'm a bit girl... Who can't believe she's using feminine pronouns now.
I took a deep breath before I cracked my eyes open and looked out over the crowd, watching with some satisfaction as more than a few shrank back in fear under the icy blue glowing hatred in my eyes. Clearing my throat softly I paused for dramatic effect...
...
Still pausing... Ok done, before I spoke.
"Little pony, how are you any better than me, something that kills because of what it is and how it's made, when you so callously tell your child there that it will be fun to watch me die?" I took a certain pleasure in watching that mare I'd singled out work her jaw like a fish out of water for a few seconds before I continued.
"How are you any better than those idiot dogs who decided to form a cult based on following me when you preach such hate and bigotry to your child? Can you claim the moral high ground knowing that you're child is going to grow up to be the same monster you cast me as in the eyes of little pups down in the warrens?" Oh I was lying through my teeth with that one. Diamond Dog puppies were dumber than a sack of rocks, but these guys obviously didn't know that if the way they hung onto every eloquently delivered word I spoke... Well hung onto is a strong term for sat there staring dumbly in shock at such a speech coming from a "monster".
"Oh yes, all of them whimper in fear every night, thoughts of pony cages and crowds of jeering monsters pelting them with all manner of detritus. So tell me woman, why are you better than me hmm? Is t because you don't raise the dead to fight with you against things that want you to die for being different? Is it because you're not undead yourself? Maybe it's because you've never taken a life or that you have a loving family somewhere just as bad as you are... Whatever the case, once I die, every soul that wove itself into my cloak is going to go about its way, though I can promise several are going to haunt you and your child for life..."
Oh they would too, I could hear their soft whispers, promising things along that line. Do yourselves a favor my readers, never anger the remorseful dead. They'll show you the depths of true sorrow even as they wrap you in their warm embrace and tell you how much better being dead is. Lovely cloak I have isn't it, knowing just what every soul that forms it is capable of.
The reaction to my little speech was priceless, watching the ponies suddenly scream and panic, running off and leaving me alone with some blessed silence for awhile. The pleasure of this however was robbed from me by a sudden shadow falling over my chuckling self... A shadow every being silently fears, the shadow of the hangman's playground... The shade under the gallows. Tomorrow I'd be up there with a noose around my neck and more regret than I care to admit for not taking more of the damn ponies with me before I snuffed it out.