It dashed under the dusty living room sofa and sat there. The stallion directed the flashlight under there, and saw something that made his heart thump at a rapid pace.
Under the sofa was a dark creature of sorts. It looked like a young filly, but its coat was pitch black. The eyes were the color of the sea, and as it opened its mouth to hiss, four gleaming white fangs reflected off the flashlight beam. It sat under the sofa with distrusting eyes at the intruding stallion.
"Great. Not only is this place abandoned, it even has this...wild thing residing in it." The stallion remained calm upon seeing this creature. He had dealt with far worse pests back in his Fillydelphia apartment, the least of which were the actual pests. If anything, the other tenants were far more dangerous than whatever this creature could throw at him.
He was about to make a move when a growl echoed in the room, followed by a whimper as the creature closed its mouth and frowned. The stallion didn't have to be a genius to recognize the sound of hunger. Almost immediately, his own stomach growled in agreement. Reacting on instinct, he reached for his suitcase against the stairwell. He opened it and started sifting through its contents as the creature observed him carefully, albeit with a slight curiosity as well.
He found it. A small bag of dried apple chips, a snack he packed for the journey. He opened it, flicked a chip in the air, and crunched down on it with his teeth. Another audible growl crossed the room from underneath the sofa, and the stallion reached into the bag and slid a chip over to the creature.
The flashlight was set down near the stallion toward the sofa to get a better view, revealing the creature sniffing the chip a few times. A small red tongue touched the chip, and a moment later the fangs crunched down upon its hapless fruity victim.
Time passed by peacefully, though not quietly as crunching noises alternated from both sides of the living room. At some point, the noise escalated between the two, as if a small competition between the two started as to which could crunch the chip the loudest.
Finally, it came down to the last chip in the bag. The stallion beckoned the creature over with a gesture, but it stayed put under the sofa, glaring back at him. A resigned sigh and a shrug came from the stallion as he slid the last chip over to the creature. The loudest crunch followed soon after, and the stallion thought he saw the creature smirk at him before it curled up into a ball. A small chuckle was the last noise he made toward the creature before he got up off the floor and looked toward the front door.
The sky no longer lit up with stars; instead a brilliant blue graced his eyesight.
Morning had come. The stallion looked back and saw the creature's body rising and falling at a steady rhythm. He thought back to that last chip, and the loud crunch the creature made with it. The thought lingered in his head just a moment longer before he broke the silence with a yawn.
He didn't feel like moving from that spot. Exhaustion from the journey had finally caught up with him, and he didn't feel like fighting against it further. Lying his head down on one of his forehoofs, he let sleep take him upon the grey, wooden floor.
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The stallion was running as fast as his legs would carry him. A pounding heart drowned out any noise he could hear. He didn't care, he had to keep running.
Fear flickered across his eyes in brief flashes under a moonlit sky as he ran across a cobblestone pathway within a grove of trees. Glancing to his sides, he saw the trees slowly begin to decay, their vibrant moss-covered bark turning a dark tan, then grey as he continued along the path. The scent of decay hit his nostrils at this time. The forest around him was dying.
He reached the house at the end of the path. Smoke was billowing out from the windows on the second floor, an unmistakeable sign of fire. Panic was all he felt, he knew other ponies were in that house. Running up to the door, he turned around and bucked it open.
In the hallway stood three ponies, one a mare, the others two little fillies. They were all pitch black, the only color visible from their eyes. He stood there in silence, tears welling up in his eyes as some small relief came to his heart. That relief then shattered as one of the fillies spoke.
"Daddy? Where are you?"
"I'm right here! RIGHT HERE!" Hot ash burned his throat as he screamed to his daughter.
"He's not here. Dad's NEVER here for us!" The other filly's words stabbed the stallion's heart like an icepick.
"That's not true! I-I'm always-"
"NEVER!" The young filly's voice boomed in the burning home, and above the three clustered ponies a beam was breaking from the heat around it.
This did not escape the attention of the stallion. "Please," he pleaded, "we need to go! This house is coming down any minute!"
A loud crashing noise came from behind. He turned his head and saw a crumbled, burnt door frame blocking the entrance he came from. Smoke continued to fill the hallway, and soon he found it as hard to see as it was to breathe.
The three other ponies still stood there, oblivious to the closing inferno around them. It was then that the mare spoke, her voice clear despite the crackling sounds of the house as the wood continued to burn.
"Children, please calm down. He will come. I know it. Your father will come...he must." Her voice was firm, but he could sense doubt in her tone.
The stallion tried to speak again, but the smoke and ash filled his lungs after opening his mouth, reducing any noise he would make into coughing fits instead. His strength began to give out in his legs as he collapsed onto the floor.
The last sight he saw burned into his eyes. The support beam above the three gathered ponies broke, bringing the weight of the burning roof down upon all in the hallway. It impacted with the mare first, knocking her down. She instinctively pushed away the two fillies away before she vanished under all the burning rubble. The door frame collapsed inward behind him as the wood struck him on the head, fading his vision into a deep darkness.
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Cold sweat, panicked eyes, and rapid breathing shook the stallion from his nightmare. For a moment, the sight of his family in the burning home flashed across his eyes, and he tried to blink it away. Shaking his head fared better as the image faded, revealing the grey shack's living room once more. That wasn't what caught his attention as soon as he awoke, however. The dark creature under the sofa was gone.
A slow exhale of breath reached his ears, and he looked down between his legs and saw the creature, bundled up against his belly in between his outstretched legs.
He briefly considered the notion of running, what with being so close to a creature he knew was on its guard some time ago. He remembered the white fangs it bared at him, and a thought crossed his mind of those same fangs piercing his neck. He couldn't feel more vulnerable in that moment in time.
Seconds passed, though they felt like hours. The creature continued its steady breathing, and the stallion began to realize that if this creature wanted him dead, it had all the opportunity to do so the moment he rested his eyes. But the creature did not take it. Maybe those shared apple chips saved his life...but was his life ever in danger at all?
Contemplation on the matter was cut short when the creature yawned, rousing from its slumber. The teeth still stuck out in the stallion's mind as it turned its head and faced him.
Under the morning sunlight, the features of the creature began to stand out more. The creature could be best described as a serrated, jagged weapon in and of itself. A small horn on its forehead was mere inches from his face, beyond it a pair of wings which visibly looked no different than broken glass. Its legs were riddled with large gashes and holes, as if someone took a butcher knife and a hole-boring drill to them. With such wounds upon its legs, it should have died from all the blood loss...but something told him these were not wounds. They looked natural, and that caused an emotion to surface within the stallion that he had not felt in decades.
Pity.
This creature was so young, yet it looked as if it came out of a battle with a manticore and lived...barely. The apparent injuries caused his mind to flash back to a time when such wounds were commonplace in the middle of a war. This was hardly the time to wade in such memories, however.
The stallion extended his hoof and started petting the creature's head. A low growl was heard, but he continued to rub its head in calm, circular motions before moving down to its back. The wings buzzed a bit in irritation, but stopped as its back was stroked repeatedly. Soon, any noise relating to anger faded as the creature purred lightly, clearly enjoying the impromptu petting session. A smile formed on the stallion's face as a name surfaced in his mind, inspired by the meal they shared moments ago.
"Crunch," he said, "I think I'll call you Crunch."