//------------------------------//
// Chapter Thirteen: Nocte Tenebrae.  
// Story: Thy Flesh Consumed 
// by tankmanbrony 
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Gorrog had been left alone for several days, using his various talents to slowly cultivate fear in them, as if everything they had once thought normal had changed. Voices heard with no source, screams without cause, objects disappearing and the accidents. 
Now everyone in the whole place knew something was wrong and only one creature knew what. Gorrog was sitting in his accustomed position and shifted his weight on the hooks that held his hands and feet down. None off the Germanes had visited this section of the prison in a while, terrified of what Gorrog was doing, the bouts of insanity, the screaming and other assorted demonic activities. 
All he needed now was food, his hunger had long since vanished which he took as a sign of terrible news, the lack of food would soon cause even these small activities to become as difficult as calling upon the Artifact, and he knew which one he would call on if the opportunity presented itself. 
Than it struck him, if he could lure one of the ponies close to his maw, he could lung forward and start eating or he could use up a large portion of his remaining strength to conjure an Imp.
With sufficient time spent on it the Imp could melt the hooks binding him to the ground, and later open up one the cells for Gorrog. 
Gorrog opened his mouth, his gums and tongue dry from lack of moisture. His small black eyes fixed on a small point of light advancing down the hallway, its light flashing down the corridor and under the iron door. 
His eyes widened, and his thoughts raced franticly. He could not escape especially in his weakened state.
“If only the Vargary could see me now, their greatest enemy bound in chains and left to die here.”
The door creaked open, and a hooded figure entered flanked by two soldiers of the rank and file of the Germane army each one equipped with a spear. 
“It has been a long time Gorrog, I thought they would have killed you by now but I was wrong, but at least I can see they did not feed you.”
Gorrog recognized the voice, and his jaw dropped, he thought that they were at a state of war.
Unveiling herself, Twilight stepped forward, her eyes boring into his head.
“I see your wondering exactly why the Germanes et me in to see you especially considering that our two countries are in a state of war with each other. Look carefully at these soldiers Gorrog, tell me what do you see?”
“Meat.”
Twilight was taken aback, she was not expecting that response, but walking forward she placed her hoof on Gorrog’s chest.
“I’ve waited a long time for this.”
Her horn started to glow, magic collecting into a ball of purple magic, her eyes lighting up.
Gorrog braced himself for the blast. He had lived a long life, over a century of glorious warfare, battling inside Hell for dominance over its vast legions.
A snarl interrupted Twilight and Gorrog tried to see what made it when a scream rang out from the doorway.
“What is that!”
Twilight turned her face plastered with surprise.
“What in the name of Celestia?”
The snarled changed into a roar and a black shape rammed into Twilight.
Gorrog stared at the spectacle the ball of magic exploded with sufficient force to incinerate  anything caught in its blast.
Gorrog felt the heat roll over him, and even with his resistance to fire he flinched.
Turning his head he saw a slightly crispy Twilight emerge along with a black and very muscular pony, with patches of fur missing along his back, a ridge of bone poking above his spine, and with his left front hoof replaced with a large bony claw, resembling that of a crabs.
The smell of burning flesh caught Gorrog’s attention and he stared at Little Horn, the right side of his face scorched to the bone.
The only part that was intact was his eye, it turned to face Twilight and a low growl escaped his lips.
“What in the name of Celestia is that?”
Little Horn issued a roar from his jaws, his teeth long and needle like, pure rage in his eyes, as it registered to him that half his face was missing. 
Leaping forward he struck at Twilight, slamming her into the walls of the cell.
Gorrog could only watch as his creation battled a full-fledged alicorn, knowing that unless the battle finished quickly it would result in both their deaths. 
He started throwing his weight into the hooks intending to snap them at their base. Lurching from side to side he wasn’t making much of a dent in the metal, yet it was so taxing on his strength. 
A burst of purple light filled his cell, and he saw Little Horn’s body thrown into him. 
“You will pay for ever touching me, abomination!”
“I will devour your body!”
He charged into Twilight, using his horns as battering rams, only to be tossed aside by Twilight’s magic with contemptuous ease.
Gorrog was desperately using the last of his strength to break the hooks so he could join the fight.
He saw one of the bases start to bend, it could no longer contain him, and he lurched in that direction attempting to push it over the edge and break it. 
The hook snapped off and his left arm was free. 
He roared with satisfaction, and resumed his efforts on the other three hooks, using his free hand to heat the other hooks with a plasma ball.
Gorrog’s efforts to break his bonds while they were starting to show fruit were not fast enough, and glancing at Little Horn he realized that he would soon lose the fight with Twilight, despite his larger size and strength, her magic easily tipped the balance in her favor. 
Gorrog broke the second hook, desperation fueling his efforts, and shuddered as he heard Little Horn cry out, the pain in his voice evident.
Gorrog grunted and started work on the bottom hooks, grimacing at as the pain of his injuries came back to him, the holes in his hands weeping black tears.
“No, he cannot escape, not now!”
Gorrog watched as the two Germanes charged  him, their spears lowered and Gorrog roared at them, his wrath at being imprisoned surging forth. And he lunged forward, and knocked the spears out the hands of soldiers and using both hands brought one of the soldiers to his mouth, and took the first bite of meat in several weeks. 
The pony let out a scream of terror and pain as Gorrog’s jaws removed a portion of his rear leg, blood pouring out. 
“Get me out of here Hans.”
Hans bolted down the passageway screaming.
Gorrog, let go with one hand and used it to open a rent in the pony’s armor.
“Help me, please, someone please.”
The pony was losing coherence as more of his blood flowed out onto Gorrog’s body and face.
Gorrog bit down on the pony’s front leg and started chewing, his lack of cheeks, sending gore and viscera flying. 
The pony passed out from blood loss and pain as Gorrog continued to devour him, moving on from his legs onto his stomach area, tearing out his innards and tossing them into the air, snapping his jaws closed on them.
Swallowing them, he heard the noise of something vomiting. Turning his head, blood dripping down it and obscuring some of his vision he saw Twilight vomit at the sight of his feeding. He looked downwards at his feet and saw that he had torn their hooks out of the ground when he lunged at the soldiers.
“Now, Princess I get to show you the same hospitably that Celestia got.”
He rose to his full eleven foot height, dwarfing Twilight and Little Horn, who was still trying to rise to his feet, his body bearing the signs of serious abuse.
Gorrog say the look of terror start to appear in Twilight’s eyes. He took a step towards her, his foot causing a loud echo in the passageway.
“Now Princess, Hell is unleashed!”
He rushed towards her intending to crush her against the wall, but in a flash of light she teleported out of his way and ran down the passage, galloping at full pace.
“You have risen once more master… I bring tidings of… war. The Black Tide has mobilized against Equestria in full force… they are currently fighting their soldiers outside of Manehatten.”
“War, Little Horn with it we shall rally demons to our cause and alert the others of my return.”
He stumbled sudden weakness grasping at him. 
“I need sustenance, my fellow prisoners will prove more than sufficient.”
Gorrog grasping the wall, made his way to the door, and had to turned himself sideways to get through it, falling over and landing on his chest.
Pushing himself to his feet, he grasped the bars of a cell and stared at its inhabitants, drinking in their fear.
“By the Empress, he walks. The black terror walks again.”
Gorrog turned his head to the sound of the voice. A soldier stared at him, with a face he partially recognized but could not quite place it.
“Soldier which one of these cages are housing Equestrian Ponies?”
He saw the soldier’s eyes widen and he pointed to the one across from him and his own.
“Thank you.”
He pulled himself forward and approached the next set of cages, and ripped open the doors, his strength being used up more and more as did what were once normal feats for him. Walking inside he snarled at its griffon occupants, who faced him with talons bared. 
They stood slightly taller than Ponies and with their wings flared looked much more intimidating.
“What are you?” Asked one of the griffons.
“Didn’t you listen to the soldier over there I’m the black terror, and your greatest nightmare.”
Gorrog edged his way forward, hit tongue snaking between his teeth and motioned for Little Horn to extinguish the lights.
Moving fast he snuffed out the four torches that provided the little light down in the dungeons.
Gorrog took a step forward and bit down on where he thought the griffons to be. Missing them he turned and swept his arms around him, listening for any telltale signs of where they were.
He opened tasted the air, and their scent washed over him, the scent of fear, sweat and blood also mingled in the air. He moved to the left slightly and sniffed again, his nostrils flaring as he tried to find the griffons. 
Something brushed him, trying to dart around him, and out the gate. He slammed into It, driving the griffon’s body into the bars and heard the sound of bone snapping. Tiring of these games Gorrog ignited a plasma ball, and it came crackling to life, shedding light on the cells, and stared at the now terrified Griffon, the other lying next to him trying to crawl away, using in frontal arms, but unable to rise as his spine had been broken. 
Gorrog bent over and picked up the Griffon, and slammed him into the walls of cell, not feeling the talons of the Griffon which were striking his flesh, trying to hurt him enough that he would stop.
Gorrog arched his neck forward and bit down  on the  Griffon’s head and made a jerking action, tearing it off.
The other Griffon started screaming and Gorrog turned to face him, only to see Little Horn leap forward and pounce on the Griffon, tearing into his flesh with his claw. The Griffon responded by slashing a Little Horn’s face, cutting a series of parallel lines down it. Little Horn responded by slamming his pincer into the Griffon’s belly, and opened it, leading to a terrible shriek of agony escape the Griffon’s beak.
Gorrog continued devouring his Griffon, enjoying the gamey taste of its flesh and crushing it bones as he passed more and more of its flesh into his mouth, devouring as much as he could.
Strength started to return to his limbs as he gorged himself. 
“My lord, the soldier who escaped will have raised an alarm by now, I can pass for a pony at a distance, and if I have clothing I’ll be able to escape in a crowd.”
The tramp of boots echoed down the stairs, and Gorrog glanced at Little Horn, who was busily wriggling his way into the armor and clothing of the Germane soldier. 
Gorrog looked at the stairs, the dungeon would soon be flooded with soldiers and in his weakened state, he would be unable to protect himself.
“Little Horn, I shall teleport out of here, but first, thank you for coming to my aid.”
Little Horn nodded, already trying to appear like one of Germane soldiers.
He lay on the ground, eyes closed, attempting to look like he was unconscious.
Gorrog drew upon Hell, and air and small pebbles being pulled in around him, and vanished in a crack of red lightning.