Within the hospital…
The commander pony walked in. He glared at me with heavy hate in his eyes. I immediately got up, ready for another round. He used his magic to violently break off the door handle behind him.
His voice dripped with determination and passive rage, “You’re not getting away this time.”
I met his gaze. “I don’t plan to.”
To my surprise, the signature sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath filled the room. My eyes confirmed my ear’s claims. Two short swords glowed with a magic aura and floated at the pony’s side. I could tell his intentions to kill were greater now more than ever. I drew my black blade in response. Maybe it was only a dagger in comparison, but I still had my armor. I truly doubted those swords could pierce kevlar.
The pony lifted both his swords above his shoulder. He charged forward in fury as he slashed both swords downwards at me. I side stepped, dodging them easily, as the swords dug into the wall behind me. He was reckless and now vulnerable. I took the opportunity and kicked the pony in the face as hard as I could. His head swung away and his body quickly followed. The swords lost their glow.
I followed up my attack as I dropped on and pinned the downed pony. I drove my knee into his chest.
“AAAAHHGGH” The pony screamed. Truthfully, my blood was boiling. I was into the fight and I drew satisfaction from his wail.
I did not let up my onslaught. I swung my left fist into his muzzle. This time I drew blood as crimson liquid spewed from his nostrils. I enjoyed the sight more than I liked to admit. I didn’t just want him dead, I wanted him to hurt quite a bit. I gave him another hard left hook, trying to push as much blood from his nose as I could.
As much as I enjoyed each cry of pain, I wanted the ponified-pain-in-my-ass to die more than anything. I lifted my blade, ready to end this fight quick and easily. I lifted my right fist and the knife in my grasp. I drove it downward as hard as I could.
But I couldn’t react fast enough. I was focused, too focused on simply killing him. In the last instant, the pony jerked its head to the side and dodged the blade. Now it was my blade was stuck in a wall. The pony took his opportunity as quickly as I took mine. His horn glowed with some more of his damn magic. I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t have to wonder for long. His horn erupted with some kind of arcane blast. My entire body was driven backward and slightly skyward.
I feel through the air for the smallest of moments before my back hit the ground. My body ached; it all felt like a concussion grenade at point blank and those things definitely hurt. As part of me was analyzing what happed to me, another was already swinging my muscles and pulled my body forward and up. I was down, but no where near out.
I was back on my feet in barely any time at all, but it seems the commander pony can do combos as well. Just as I got up, I barely had time to look forward. He had already gotten back on his own feet as now dipped his head downwards. His horn glowed again as he took aim at me. As much as I hated it, I could see it, but I was too late. I couldn’t even bring my arm up to block.
He blasted me back again. This time, I flew backwards and through the large window I forgot was even there. Glass shattered in hundreds of sharp pieces just inches from me. I handed on my back, but instinct took over again. I used the backward momentum I still had and rolled away from the window.
With little effort, I was already back on my feet, but my blade was no longer in the familiar grasp of fingers. I rolled yards from the window and the hospital, now waiting for the pony to make his next move. The blasts hurt, but as the fight dragged on, the pain dissipated. In the heat of the moment, pain wasn’t pain. It was there, but it didn’t hurt. It just emotionless reports form my nerves. I knew I was damaged and knew exactly where. It seemed more like me and myself agreed not to care. Pain didn’t matter. I was in a fight and I wasn’t done. What was the point of healing if I can’t survive long enough to do it?
It was now night out, but it wasn’t too dark out. I could see just fine and even better given a few minutes to adjust. I noticed the sound of a crowd. I quickly turned around, and true as it sounded, a random crowd of ponies stood outside a large gray bubble. It was the same kind of bubble I saw during my own execution. I looked up and notice the bubble covered overhead again. I could see a full moon lighting the fighting stage.
As expected, the commander pony leaped from the broken window. He stood calm, but obviously enraged. His head was low and his soul-glaring gaze was only intensified by his blood-stained muzzle. His two short swords had been recovered and floated by their owner’s side again. He flipped them occasionally as a show of force. I could hear the crowed behind shout a mixture of cheering as gasping.
The pony lifted his head, but kept his gaze, “I hope you enjoyed your day, human, for it was your last. By Luna’s moon, I will slay you this night!”
My fists were already up and ready. I still had my right gauntlet. If I play this right, I can still win this. I met his vocal challenge, “Easier said than done, midget-horse!”
I dropped down and quickly dug a handful of soft dirt. I lodged the dirt into the pony’s eyes. The mud landed with a successful thud. The pony reeled back and shook his head, trying to get the dirt off his eyes.
“You dirty coward!” He screamed at me.
I was already charging at him. This time my fists were open. The swords jerked around like their owner’s head, but I quickly managed to snatch both of them, one in each hand, and pull back. The pony, however, kept his magic grip on them.
I pulled and yanked, playing tug-of-war with an invisible rope. I could see the pony’s horn glow with increasing intensity as I leaned back and pulled as hard as I could. It wasn’t long till I was losing inches, but it gave me an idea.
I released my grip on left sword, but I put both hands into the right. This time, I didn’t pull back on the weapon. With one sword in my right hand, I charged forward, using his own magical grip to my advantage.
I cried out like a raging Nord, “AAHHHHHH!!”
As I launched myself in range, I braced my left foot to the ground and spun my entire body left, screaming all the way. I aimed for the head as my sword slashed through the air and the pony with blurred fury. I aimed to cut his cranium in two.
The sword I was holding lost its opposing grip and glow, but there wasn’t nearly as much resistance as I expected. It should’ve gone through plenty of bone. Either this sword was beyond razor sharp, or something was definitely wrong.
I heard a significant metallic thud. I quickly turned to glance at the source. The decorative equine helmet bounced off the hospital wall and landed silently on the soft ground. I turned even further, now looking for my opponent.
It wasn’t the corpse I was inspecting. The pony stood several yards away from me. He held his head low again. His brows angled and made his gaze as defying as ever. Blood flowed from the right side of his head. Much of his face was now dirtied and stained crimson; the image well fit that of a veteran warrior. One sword still remained loyal to him; glowing and floating in the space beside the wounded pony.
The pony took his turn to charge and swung the sword at me. I managed to put up my own sword and my guard just in time. I managed to block the first blow, but I have to admit, I was too used to unarmed fighting and hold habits kicked in. As I blocked a second strike, I stepped to the side and turned my sword; deflecting my opponent’s blade sideways and downward. Both blades hit the ground. The unfamiliar impact vibrated through my arms.
None of that was my intention at all, but I took the maneuver for what it was. I pushed forward on the sword. The signature sound of metal on metal filled the air as my blade seemed to surf along the opposing edge, now going for the pony’s through.
The pony jumped upwards and back. I missed his through by mere inches. He jumped back several yards. I however, did not cease my attack. I instead recycled my won momentum. I continued to step forward and made another charge towards my commander pony. I released my grip with my left hand as I swung the sword to the right. As the sword started to swing behind me, my arm spun within the socket and the sword was forced upward.
As the blade arched above my head, I reach around with my left hand and gripped the sword as it swung downward. I put all the force I had and a bit of gravity to maximize the impact. The pony had already raise his guard and held his sword horizontally.
The impact vibrated through my bones. It did not faze me. In fact, it brought adrenaline through my veins. Maybe it was a fight to the death, but I couldn’t deny how fun it was.
The sword slid to the left. Without thought I twisted the threatening blade and swung it again towards the pony. My blow was blocked again.
I swung back.
It was blocked.
I swung again.
It was blocked again, but barely.
I swung at the pony again and again, over and over. Each time I could see I was getting closer and closer. The only advantage I had was speed and strength. The pony had less and less time to block each strike, and never any time to counter. Not only that, but I put more and more force into each swing. The pony staggered backwards to balance himself after each block. There wasn’t a hint of fear on the pony’s face, but I liked that about him.
We kept fighting on and on. The crowd of ponies outside the gray bubble seemed to be cheering for the commander pony. Each swing moved us further and further forward along the light gray hospital wall. It wasn’t long before we rounded the corner of the hospital. If my sense of placement was correct, we where now fighting nearly in front of the hospital.
The pony was losing his balance and he knew it. After one last swing, I forced his blade to the side and down as I launched my entire self forward. My left fist rocketed forward and struck the pony in his bloodied face. I dropped the sword in my right hand as the blow pushed him back.
Before he could recover, I reached and grabbed a large chunk of hair atop his head. I gripped with my other hand as I forced the pony’s head towards me. I drove my knee into his battered and bloodied face. I could hear the crowd outside the bubble shriek and gasp while they watched their friend start to lose the fight for his life. The pony started to cough and add his own blood to the mix of stains on my armor.
I heard metal drop to the ground not long after. The pony lost his magic grip on the swords. I didn’t let go of his face. Instead, I picked my little pony up from the ground and charged towards the glass hospital doors.
“RRAAAAAHHH!!”
I gave another war cry and I smashed the pony’s head into the think glass. A web of fractures instantly appeared from the center of impact, but I couldn’t tell if the cracking sound was just the glass or some his bones as well. I didn’t let the pony fall to the ground and kept him in my grip. I pulled the pony back and drove his sorry head into the glass again. Dozens of more fractures grew. The glass was forced inward, but still stood in place.
I could see blood stain the glass and steep into the large cracks like some kind of gothic artwork. Once more, I pulled the pony back and smashed him into the weakened door. This time, I let his body go as it flew inside the hospital in a furious storm of glass.
Sharp, clear shards scattered all over the inside of the hospital. Most the floor just in before the front desk shimmered in the moonlight behind me. The rest was an ugly crimson smear staining the floor and the garden of glass; it lead from the center of the floor to the source further away against the large, curved desk imbedded into the wall.
The commander pony pushed his beaten body against the desk as his weaken legs tried desperately to find purchase against the once sanitary floor. Even his breathing was deep, loud, and bleeding. Blood oozed from his face and as he released each labored gasp of breath, he added to the swelling pool of blood.
I wasn’t done with him yet.
As I stepped through the shattered glass door, the shards of glass crunched beneath my boots. I watched his pathetic form try desperately to pull itself from the ground. I stepped down to pick up a shard of glass. It was narrow enough to hold, but was still several inches long. Perfect for the job.
I marched over and by the neck, picked him up and slammed his back atop the short desk. I made sure he could see his killer as I tightened my grip around his neck. Blood poured over my gloves and the pony’s chest. I held the makeshift knife high, ready to finish this once and for all.
I couldn’t wait for him to die.
A soft but loud voice called out to me, “Stop it!”
My heart froze. I knew that silky voice anywhere. It was the only pony I ever cared about. It was Fluttershy.
I turned my head to find Fluttershy staring at me. Her entire body seemed shivered in place, but I couldn’t tell if it was from sickness or terror. He face was pale and tears seemed to form at here soft eyes. She held a shivering hoof to her mouth.
“Please, Dave. J-Just stop…”
…
Well, maybe we can wait for him to die.