Twilight's Inferno
Chapter IX: The Known

“Who art thou that art become so foul?"
"Thou seest that I am one who weeps."
"With weeping and with wailing do thou remain, for I know thee.”
Dante's Inferno, Canto VIII

How long had she been trapped here? How many depravities had she endured? How many more were to come? Twilight couldn’t answer any of those questions. Her mind kept flitting between reality and fantasy. She remembered seeing and feeling things being done to her that were so wrong, so shameful, so morally repugnant that she quickly retreated back to that beloved fantasy where her friends were still with her and her life was carefree.

But the things she did were still stuck in her mind. She remembered coming to with her own horn rammed painfully inside her anus. She dreaded the sensation of Cadance’s tongue within her marehood as Shining bucked between her lips. She could still envision being suspended in the air between her brother and one of those wall-bound creatures. The thrusting, the ceaseless thrusting…

Perhaps they’d grown tired of her. Maybe Cadance felt Twilight was getting too much attention. Whatever the case, Twilight was no longer with them.

No, she was one of those trophies, a band over her eyes and her forelegs shackled to a wall as something pumped in and out of her throat. How many times did she come out of her fantasy stupor to find herself still there, mouth filled with a salty substance and head bobbing rhythmically? Every time she would remember where she was, what she was doing… and flee as fast as she could back to the past.

Then, at some indeterminable time after, something changed. She roused from her stupor to find her throat unclogged and her legs unbound. Her entire body ached and her skull pounded... but no thrusting. No penetrations. She was being carried by somepony, her cheek rubbing against soft fur.

Slowly, dreading that it might be a lie, she opened her eye. She was in a dark tunnel, no different from so many she’d already seen. She watched the stone slip by at a slow pace, not daring to look around or try to acknowledge anything.

Twilight couldn’t ignore it forever. She shifted her head to get a better view. A red mane, an amber coat…

“You’re awake!” She saw Twilight wince and cringed. “Sorry! Sorry. H-here…”

The pony dropped to her knees and Twilight collapsed off her back in a clumsy, feeble heap. Sunset moved quickly to cradle Twilight by the shoulders.

Twilight gazed up, still wondering if what she was seeing was real. She tried to speak, her crooked muzzle giving her voice a nasal quality. “You… y-you came back?”

“I promised I would.” Tears were welling in Sunset's eyes as she rocked back and forth. “I’m sorry. I t-tried to come back sooner, I really did! I’m so, so sorry…”

Twilight had tears of her own. She gazed up at this pony, the only friend she had left. “You came back.” She reached up and held Sunset close, buried her face in her shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you s-so much…”

“You’ll be okay,” Sunset cooed through her hiccups, petting her friend’s mane as she continued to rock. “Everything’s going to be fine, Twilight.”

“No,” Twilight whimpered, her grip tightening. “Nothing is fine. Not a damn thing. My b-brother, Sunset. My own bucking b-brother!” Her body shook as she wept, the shame and horror coming back to her anew. “I will never b-be fine again…”

Sunset just kept rocking and whispering. “It’s okay, Twi. You’re okay. We’re both going to be okay…”

Twilight didn’t want to keep going. She knew they were close, that the Gates might be just a few hours away. But there was still one more Lord to get past and Twilight was terrified of the prospect. After everything that had happened, she wasn’t at all eager to face more. Sunset tried to reassure her that the seventh lord’s territory was rather bland, and that slipping past him wasn’t going to be hard as it had been for the others.

Twilight couldn’t bring herself to believe that. Sometimes she’d even find herself retreating back to those happy fantasies just to avoid the humiliating memories that ceaselessly haunted her. She knew she needed to move on, but part of her was too depressed to try. The only way she would ever get home was through magic, and without her horn what was the point?

It was clear that Sunset was eager to press on... but Sunset still had her horn. She wasn’t battered and bruised, she hadn’t been used as a sex toy for the Goddess knew how long. She hadn’t been poisoned by Ne’er, with hacking fits that seemed to grow ever worse. She’d not seen her friends slaughtered in a terrible dream orchestrated by a monster. By luck or fate, she’d come this far practically unharmed. She still had hope.

Time wore indecipherably on. At some point Sunset began to talk. She told Twilight of her past, of how her mother had disappeared when she was but a tiny filly. She spoke of how she’d survived out of trash cans and thievery until a dark individual caught her and dragged her kicking and screaming to Canterlot. There she discovered that she was not to be imprisoned for the rest of her life, but was simply being brought in to take the aptitude tests required by all unicorns at her age. How they knew of her when she’d been off grid all her life she didn’t know, but she begrudgingly went through the exams… and aced them. Celestia had taken her on as her personal protégé, the happiest moment of the mare’s life.

Celestia was like a mother to her. She’d taught her everything she knew, gave her food and shelter. She knew the princess was corrupt, that she was scheming and domineering. It didn’t matter; she’d taken Sunset in. That was all the proof Sunset needed to know that there was still a spark of kindness in there.

Twilight listened to the story, eager to distract her mind from the worries she faced. She was quick to point out that Celestia had almost literally thrown Sunset away by sending her here. Sunset didn’t deny this. It was the single most painful thing to have ever happened to her. She’d been lost in misery, feeling like a failure, like she’d been betrayed.

“Then you arrived,” she reminded Twilight, voice filled with pride. “I saw the good in you. You helped me realize that light can shine even in the deepest darkness. The way you gushed about Celestia… I hated you in the beginning. I felt like you’d stolen my precious princess, the pony who was as good as my mother.

“Now I understand that your gushing was for your own Celestia, the one from your world.” Sunset beamed at Twilight. “It got me thinking that maybe, just maybe, that kind of light still exists somewhere in my Celestia. If I can just find a way to remind her that it exists, to show her what she could be, she might take me back. It can happen, I know it can.” Her eyes shined, her gaze set on something far off in her mind’s eye.

Twilight thought she was being naïve. She sat back against the wall and made no mention of this, however.

Sunset noted her expression, but didn’t seem at all bothered by it. She sat against the wall as well, studying her friend eagerly. “Hey… tell me about your world.”

Twilight blinked and raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Why?” She was finally learning to speak normally through her broken muzzle, which didn’t hurt so much anymore.

“I want to learn." Her companion's eyes still had that annoying glow that made Twilight want to slap her across the jaw. “Your world is a nicer one, I can tell. I want to know about it, about your Celestia. Maybe through this I can find something to help me get through to my Celestia.”

Twilight crossed her legs and huffed. “I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as you’re thinking.”

Sunset frowned, leaning close to study Twilight. “Come on, Twi. You used to be so full of hope and confidence. I get it, I really do. Maybe if you remind yourself of where you came from… maybe then you’ll be able to have a little hope again.”

Twilight found that dubious… but she decided to humor her friend. She explained how Discord had been turned to stone rather than killed, about Luna and Nightmare Moon, about the Elements of Harmony. She revealed the original history of Starswirl the Bearded, about the defeat of King Sombra, about the Changeling invasion. She recalled with fondness her brother’s wedding to Cadance, of the reformation of Discord. Twilight remembered her own role as Celestia’s beloved protégé, of her journey through the enchanted mirror to meet the other Sunset Shimmer.

Yet the story that gave her the most pride, which had her breaking down into tears, wasn’t the moment she’d become a princess as she’d anticipated. No, it was that first adventure, when she helped to save Princess Luna… of when she discovered her friends. That memory, that precious, precious moment of comprehension and love, left her sobbing.

She wished she could go back. She longed to see their faces again, even if only for an instant.

“But I’ll never see them again,” she lamented, rubbing the tears from her cheeks and avoiding Sunset’s gaze. “I’ve lost my horn, so I have nothing. I can’t cast the spell to go back in time and fix my mistake. I’m trapped…” She touched her throat as she felt the itch that signified a coming hacking fit. “And if things keep going the way they have been, I might be dying, too.”

A cold silence lingered between them, interrupted only by Twilight’s occasional sniff. Twilight fought the need for as long as she could, but the coughing finally came. It held her attention for several long seconds, blocking her air and bringing fresh tears to her eyes. At last it passed, and she sat back against the wall with a long, miserable sigh.

Sunset had watched with a grim expression. She set hoof to her chin and thought long and hard on the situation, during which time Twilight worked to recover her breathing. Finally Sunset gained a warm smile and leaned close. “It’s not over yet, Twilight.”

The broken princess rolled her eye with a dejected sniff. “I don’t see any way out of this.”

Her companion scooted a little closer and nuzzled her shoulder affectionately. “You still have the power of friendship.”

Twilight barked a laugh, but she actually felt like weeping all over again. She covered her face with a leg and pouted. “I don’t think that’s going to be of much use this time. I don’t even have my Element.”

“But you have me,” Sunset reminded her. “I still have my horn, I believe your story. I wasn’t selected to be Celestia’s apprentice for nothing.”

Twilight lowered her leg to eye her friend. She thought she felt just the faintest spark of something familiar within her upon hearing those words. “What are you saying?”

Sunset’s smile was warm. “I’m saying that once we get out of here, I’ll help you find a way home. I’ll learn the magic myself, I’ll personally bring you back in time to fix your mistake.”

That familiar sensation grew. It made Twilight’s chest feel light. “You… you’d do that?”

“Of course!” Sunset wrapped a leg about Twilight’s shoulder and pressed her close with a grin. “What are friends for?”

Twilight wasn’t quite ready to accept this, even though she felt so incredibly warm. “I… But… B-but if you go into the past… what if you end up stuck in my world?”

“Something tells me that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” Sunset rubbed cheeks with Twilight. “Besides, after all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.”

It was as if the ice that had been forming over Twilight’s heart had melted and become tears. She wrapped Sunset up in a tight embrace as she realized that there still was some hope left for her.

Twilight’s hooves didn’t hurt as much as they used to, and though her head was still sore the pain was nothing compared to what it had been. Perhaps it was a sign of how long she’d been lingering, or of the time she’d been trapped with Cadance and Shining Armor. Maybe it was a bit of both. Whatever the case, she could walk with much greater ease, and for that she was grateful.

Sunset was at her side, perpetually smiling. It was like somepony had found the ‘happy switch’ in her brain and locked it to the ‘on’ position. At first it was annoying… but Twilight was coming to like this new Sunset Shimmer. She was certainly an improvement from the gloomy, borderline suicidal variant Twilight had first met.

Knowing that she’d had a hoof in this transformation left Twilight with a powerful sense of pride. It reaffirmed her existence and purpose. She didn’t know if not having a horn anymore disqualified her as a princess, but at least she was still spreading friendship. As long as she could continue to do that, perhaps she could be at peace with herself. Maybe she would be able to recover from the mental scars of this journey.

But the scars ran deep. Twilight had to focus all her attention on her smiling friend, to remind herself of the one good thing she’d achieved. If she didn’t… she would start to remember. Sometimes, when she let her mind drift, images would slip into her thoughts, pictures of the things she’d been trying to block out through her fantasies even as they happened.

The lingering pains of Tartarus were poisoning Twilight’s mind just as much as Ne’er had poisoned her body. Every now and again she’d recall the feeling of her eye being clawed out, or walking through the living muck of Chrysalis’ victims, of watching her friends slaughtered in her dreams. Sometimes she’d just break down and weep for no reason, at times without even realizing it.

Yet every time Twilight started to stumble, physically or mentally, Sunset was there. A shoulder to cry on, an encouraging word when it was needed, a determined push when it didn’t help. Twilight would never be able to describe how appreciative she was. It made her wonder about the Sunset Shimmer of her own time, what she might have become if she’d only been true to Celestia’s lessons. Twilight wouldn’t say it out loud, for she didn’t want to give her friend too much hope… but she prayed in the end that Sunset would indeed go back with her.

They seemed to have been walking for ages, but this didn’t bother Twilight; ‘ages’ seemed to be how long it took to do anything in Tartarus. Still she found herself wondering; the tunnels seemed endless, and they never changed. It was always the same bland, dark stone, always the same twisting, turning tunnels. Where was the variation, the unusual elements created by the draconequus magic?

She couldn’t hold her curiosity back any longer. “Do you have any idea how far we have left to go?”

Twilight glowered at her friend’s smile. “I’m getting tired of all this rock. Isn’t there some loopy cavern with trees made from pudding or some other insipid landmark?”

A light giggle bubbled from Sunset. “I don’t think I’d call that ‘insipid’. ‘Fun’ comes to mind.” She noted Twilight’s scowl and winced. “Sorry. We’re mostly outside of the range of the draconequus magic. No more crazy stuff, no more defying the laws of physics. We might even be far enough away now to be susceptible to hunger and weariness.”

Sunset nodded with a curious expression. “I haven’t slept in so long, I don’t even remember what that’s like. I vaguely recall enjoying it, though.”

“I’m more interested in food,” Twilight confessed as she caught up at a trot. “How are we supposed to survive if there’s nothing to eat down here?”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Sunset patted her on the back. “When we start to feel hungry, that means we’re close to the gates.”

Twilight felt at her stomach with a concerned frown. “I hope you’re right…”

“Of course I am.” Sunset’s head rose with a smirk. “I’m Sunset Shimmer! Have faith, oh neophyte.”

It was a long while before Twilight realized the feeling in her stomach was hunger. Sunset had been completely mystified by the sensation, but when she finally understood what she was feeling she became jubilant.

“This is a good sign,” she had insisted. “This means we’re almost to the exit!”

Weariness came next, and it surprised them both. Sunset was eager to try sleeping; it had been so long, and she thought it might be a nice change of pace. Twilight insisted they keep going, but eventually they settled down against the cave wall.

Sunset was out like a light… but Twilight tossed and turned. Sleep scared her. It meant dreams, and that was the last thing she wanted. She drifted in and out of consciousness, always waking with a jerk and a whimper. Sometimes she would find herself in tears. After a while she snuggled in close to Sunset, desperate for the comforting warmth of a kind soul.

Sunset came to an eternity later, groggy but happy. She dreamed, too, but all her dreams were of a bright future. She regaled a disillusioned Twilight with tales of being under Celestia’s wing again, of helping Twilight go home, of meeting all Twilight’s friends. There was so much hope in her.

They traveled on, their moods so very different. Sunset seemed so certain that they would find the gates right around the next corner. Twilight kept wondering if they’d ever actually see them.

Yet as time went by Sunset began to lose her chipper smile. She maintained her positive attitude, but she wasn’t fooling Twilight; the hunger pangs were getting to her. How long would they last? What if they’d come all this way just to die of thirst?

Twilight refused to voice these fears. Part of her thought that voicing them would make the issue real, another wanted to take strength from Sunset’s determination.

The weariness came back, so they tried sleeping again. This time the hunger kept them both from sleeping peacefully. Twilight could see the worry slipping through her companion’s positive remarks. She wanted to encourage Sunset, but couldn’t form the words. How was she supposed to inspire hope when she didn’t have any to begin with?

It made Twilight feel helpless. After all Sunset was trying to do for her, had promised to do in the future, Twilight felt she should do more herself. Instead they might end up dying in the dark, cold and hungry, clinging to a chance that was so preposterously tiny.

Twilight awoke cold and starving. Neither of these facts bothered her quite so much as waking up alone. She rose to her hooves and peered through the darkness, rubbing her eye and wondering where Sunset had gone off to.

Twilight stretched until her back emitted a loud crack, sighing with relief. What she wouldn’t give for a warm meal and a soft bed. She took a moment to try and get her bearings; which way was forward? With everything looking exactly the same, determining direction was difficult. Even so, eventually she felt confident and began to walk through the darkness. The only reason she could think of for Sunset to disappear was if she was scouting ahead.

It wasn’t long before they bumped into one another. Literally; their heads banged together with a resounding whack as they tried to turn the same corner at once. The impact would have hurt regardless, but coupled with the already damaged state of Twilight’s cranium it left her seeing stars. She fell to her haunches with a cry and tears in her eyes, clutching at her burning skull with shaking hooves.

“Sorry, sorry.” Sunset was kneeling before her in an instant. “Crap, I didn’t see you, I am so sorry!”

“Sweet merciful Goddess, that smarts…” Twilight peered at Sunset from between her legs. “Where were you?”

“Here, let me look.” Sunset gently pushed Twilight’s hooves away, her horn emitting a dim glow as she leaned close to examine the injury. “My hunger was driving me nuts, so I thought I’d do a little scouting.”

Twilight let her hooves drop with a low moan. “How does it look? Aside from ugly.”

“Oh, it’s not… that…” Sunset caught Twilight’s lecturing glower and sighed. “Okay, I’ll admit, it’s kinda disturbing. And bleeding again.”

“Perfect.” Twilight crossed her hooves and sulked. “Did you at least find something worth cracking open my skull?”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Sunset replied with a comforting smile. “It’ll stop bleeding soon. At least you aren’t recalling hunger for the first time in years. After so long of not eating, I think I could devour an Ursa Minor.”

“That does sound bad,” Twilight admitted, though she was far from amused. She felt at her own rumbling stomach and sagged. “Sunset… I don’t know how long we’ll last at this rate.”

“No, no, this time I’m serious.” Sunset pulled Twilight to her hooves with a grin and waved in the direction she’d come from. “Come on, you’ll see.” She ran into the darkness, pausing to turn and gesture excitedly at the next corner. She bounced from hoof to hoof. “Come on!”

Twilight saw her excitement and felt her heart skip a beat; she really meant it, they were almost there! Though her legs protested some, Twilight followed at an eager trot. She began to take some of Sunset’s excitement for her own. She had thought she would never smile quite like that again, but Twilight felt her lips curling up in a big, eager grin.

Home. All she had to do was get out of here and she could go home. Sunset would see to it, and Twilight would get to be with all her friends again. Her mother, her father, Spike, the girls, Celestia… even Discord! When she saw that big, stupid lug she would kiss him!

Sunset brought her to a place she wasn’t quite expecting: a cavern. But it wasn’t like the rest of the caverns Twilight had seen so far; it was more akin to a massive hallway, and though the ceiling had to be hundreds of feet over their heads the expansive breadth of the place made it seem short. Tall, thick stone rose from haphazard locations to form natural, jagged columns. Other than that, it was surprisingly plain.

Twilight slowed to a walk alongside Sunset, her eyes roaming the shadowed landscape. “What is this place?”

“The entrance hall,” her companion replied eagerly as her horn started to shine. “After the draconeqii stopped protecting Tartarus, the newcomers planned to make it into the entrance of a city. I think some old king wanted to make it into his seat of power. He and a scouting party went into the depths to look for the rumored riches of Tartarus… only a few came back, and what they told the workers scared enough ponies to end any plans for the place’s habitation.”

“Sometime after that, yes.” Sunset’s head swiveled about, her eyes shining almost as brightly as her horn. “The exit is here, I remember it! The hall looks huge, but it’s not as expansive as it seems.”

Twilight examined the dark beyond the columns. “You sure you know how to find it?”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Sunset chuckled and tapped her head. “When I was first exiled, I spent ages scouring this place for an alternate exit. I pretty much memorized it, although I admi—” Her mouth seemed to freeze mid-word as she turned to look at Twilight. Her pupils went small, her eyes grew wide, her entire body became rigid. Slowly, her eyes moved up.

It took a couple seconds for Twilight to understand what she was seeing… but when she did her breath caught in her throat. There, just visible in the darkness between two columns, was a tall, red-scaled leg with talons longer than she was. Gradually, a tiny wheeze squeezing out of her throat, she lifted her eyes up to follow those scales to a broad shoulder, which was attached to a massive and muscular chest, above which was a serpentine neck that held a long face with a smile revealing teeth that looked like they could cut her in half. Then there were the eyes, massive, yellow, almond-shaped things that were peering right at her.

The eyes glinted. A deep breath sent gusts wrapping about Twilight and Sunset. The scaled lips parted and a deep, strong voice seemed to fill the entire cavern.

Twilight had seen many dragons in her time. She had a very healthy fear of them. She thought she knew how big they could get. Now, as she watched that head slowly rise to not quite touch the vast stone ceiling, she realized that she would have to reconsider her concepts of scale.

The dragon raised his claws high in a gesture of calm. “Oh, don’t go. You only just arrived, little morsels. Stay a while…” His neck snaked down until his massive head was hovering just above theirs. “…and talk.”

Sunset was hyperventilating, but she still managed to get some words out. “W-we… were just… p-passing… th-through… R-Reddux, the M… M-Mighty… and-and…”

Reddux’s head shifted so he was peering at Sunset with one eye, his scaled lips turned up in a toothy grin. “Forgive my aging eyes, but you look familiar…”

“No, no.” Sunset took another alarmed step back with a strained smile. “Y-you must have me confused with somepony else. I m-mean lots of ponies do c-come through here and—”

“No, I am certain I know you from somewhere.” He rose up, a gargantuan claw reached for them. The mares shouted as one and turned to flee, but Sunset was too slow; her tail was caught between two claws that were even larger than she was.

She covered her eyes as she was lifted off the ground. “R-really, you’ve got the wrong pony!”

Twilight watched in horror as her friend dangled upside down between Reddux’s eyes. The dragon rubbed his scaled chin with a smirk as he studied the seemingly tiny mare.

The dragon cast a slow, curious glance her way. He waved his free claw at her with a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring, but with all those teeth it only came out terrifying. “Now, now. No need to fret. I just need to… jog my memory.” His long snout moved close to the squirming Sunset, his nostrils coming within a few feet and taking a deep sniff. The pony would have easily fit inside one of those holes.

“Ah, yes!” Reddux’s eyes went wide as he gently set Sunset down on his other claw. “You are Sunset Shimmer, the pony who scoured my halls with such great determination.” He lowered his claw and deposited her to the floor. “Back to try again, are you?”

Sunset’s legs buckled. She wobbled sideways a couple steps before managing to lock her knees and stand properly. “Th-that’s right, I forgot all about that!” She tried to smile, her lips trembling. “Silly me, b-but that’s what happens when you’ve b-been lost in the d-d-depths for so long, right?”

Twilight hurried to her friend, setting a hoof to her shoulder for a little moral support and as a precaution in case her legs failed.

“And a new friend, too.” Reddux’s claws rubbed together as he observed Twilight, eyes literally glowing in the darkness. “She looks like she’s been through quite a bit. Come now, don’t be rude. Introduce yourself.”

Twilight’s ears lowered and her heart tried to bash its way out of her chest. She looked up into those yellow eyes and saw something she couldn’t place, something… scary.

The dragon stood tall, the scales of his head just barely grazing the ceiling. “I can see you are confused. That’s alright. Here, let me begin.” He gestured to himself with a regal pose, snout raised high. “I am Reddux, greatest of all dragons, First Lord of Tartarus and, if I may be so bold, a perfect specimen of grandeur. Wouldn’t you agree, Sunset?”

Sunset’s eyes grew wide. “O-oh, yes, absolutely, oh great and sp-splendid Reddux!”

He grinned and waved a welcoming claw at Twilight. “Your turn, little morsel.”

Twilight hesitated, her chin quivering at the massive creature before her. She cast a glance at Sunset, who nodded vigorously, and sucked in a shuddering breath. “I am… T-Twilight Sparkle, my lord.” She bowed on instinct, not knowing what else to do.

“Oooh, a polite one.” She looked up and let out small squeak; his toothy snout couldn’t be more than a foot from her muzzle. “I like you, already.”

She started to stand just as he inhaled, the winds whipping her mane about her face. She backed up and shivered, her eye darting about for some kind of escape. There had to be some way…

Reddux’s head rose, his eyes blinked with a perplexed frown. His claw rose up to rub his snout as if to rid it of an itch. “This scent… I know it.”

Terror and alarm struck Twilight like a hammer, but it wasn’t quite as strong as her confusion. “B-but that’s not possible. I’ve never met you before.” And this time it was true; even in her own time, Reddux had been little more than a story to her.

Reddux considered her, lips pursed and a claw rubbing his chin. “I wonder…”

“Sh-she’s telling the truth,” Sunset declared, setting a hoof to Twilight’s shoulder with a fragile grin. “She got the one way ticket, y-y’know? Shot straight down to L-Limbo, never came through here!”

Massive eyebrows rose. “Really? Something like that only happens to… serious threats.”

Twilight shot her companion a glare before offering up her own shaky smile. “Serious threat, me? Y-yeah, right. Just at the wr-wrong place at the wrong time!” Her chuckle couldn’t have sounded more forced if she’d tried.

“Yet you didn’t pass through the…” Those yellow eyes flashed, Reddux’s lips dropped to a suspecting frown. His head lowered and turned to his right, peering deep into the darkness.

Sunset’s shaky voice whispered into Twilight’s ear, “Time to go.” The two mares began to walk backwards in unison.

“The Gates.” Reddux inhaled deep, his eyes half closing as if he were recalling something. “That’s where I’ve detected that scent before.”

Twilight’s heart pounded, her hooves shook as she crept backwards towards the nearest column.

“You were at the Gates.” Reddux turned to them, his shoulders tensing, his sharp eyes locking onto Twilight. “That’s the scent I keep getting from there. It’s you. You were the Gatekeeper.”

“No. No, I’ve never been to the Gates of Tartarus." Those menacing eyes made her feel so hideously small. “I don’t even know what they look like!”

“Is that so?” He came forward, his steps shaking the rock beneath their hooves. The two ponies turned and dove behind the massive column, only to flee as a giant claw grasped at the midsection of the rock. “Then why do I smell you? Why do I recognize that scent from those accursed black stones?”

Twilight looked over her shoulder to see the dragon’s long, scaled neck circling around the column, lips pulled back in a sinister sneer. “I d-don’t know why! P-please, just leave me alone.”

“Too late for that,” he snarled, rearing back and shaking a fist at her. “You would try to slip past me? I, who know these halls like the back of my own claw, who lingered at the Gates just waiting for you to make a mistake? I know not what treachery landed you in this prison, but you cannot fool Reddux the Tyrant!”

The last word came as a bellow that rocked the cavern and tripped the mares up, sending them to their bellies. Twilight jumped to her hooves and kept going. “I never tried to fool you!”

“And still you lie and scheme!” The dragon’s gargantuan body dropped, front claws slamming into the ground so hard a crack formed beneath them. He began to follow at a slow, steady pace that nonetheless made their galloping look like a leisurely walk. “Why would the former Gatekeeper make the perilous journey from Limbo? Why would she travel all this way, risking madness and torture and humiliation? Why, unless she knew a secret way to escape?”

Twilight and Sunset stood together behind a column, sucking in short gasps and scouring the dark for a proper hiding place. Sunset leaned sideways to shout, “She’s telling the truth, she’s never been to the gates! You have to believe us!”

“Believe you? Pathetic, weak pony vermin?!” Reddux’s fist slammed against the side of the column, sending long cracks along its form. The mares fled as he struck it a second time, and a third. “And why are you here, former protégé of Celestia? You knew what the danger was, you knew how to get up here from the dark depths. That is why! You guide her to the Gates, and she shows you the way out!”

Another powerful hit and the column began to topple. Twilight saw it coming and dove, shoving her friend to the floor as the stone crashed just beside them and shattered. Dust filled the air and entered their lungs, and Twilight began to hack. She tried to stand and run, but the coughing turned into a fit and she could only stumble forward.

Sunset came up and pushed her to her knees. “Stay low, I’ll distract him. He can’t chase both of us!”

“No… you can’t—” Twilight clutched at her throat as it began to constrict.

“Just be safe!” Sunset jumped atop one of the rocks, glanced over her shoulder with wide eyes and fled.

“Come here, you pitiful creature!” Reddux passed over Twilight, one of his giant claws falling just next to her and crushing the stones at her side. “Show me how to escape so I may burn your precious pony kingdom to ashes!”

He passed, his tail slithering by as she clutched at her throat and gasped for air. She hacked, she wheezed, she shook, but her eyes were roaming the darkness. Where was Sunset, where? Her chest began to convulse, her mouth gaped like a fish, her vision began to blur…

Air flew into her lungs, her entire body trembling with the sudden intake. She lay there, gasping and clutching at her aching chest. If Reddux didn’t kill her, this damn illness would for certain!

She knew she couldn’t linger; Sunset needed her help. She struggled to her hooves, legs wobbling as she continued to suck in precious air. She took a few shaky steps, ears perking for sound… but there was nothing. Surely she should be hearing Reddux moving about, the beast was a veritable titan! Yet as she shifted one way, then another, she confirmed that there really wasn’t a sound out there.

The silence was eerie. Twilight moved slowly, body low and eyes shifting for signs of danger. She approached the shattered column, climbed up on the battered rocks. She crouched beneath the highest chunk, trembling as she waited. Where was he? Good Goddess, what if he was watching, waiting for her to show herself? Lip quivering, heart pounding, she forced herself to look over the rocks.

Nothing. Just darkness and columns, stretching on beyond her vision. No Sunset, no dragon.

She couldn’t stay here. Sunset might come looking for her, but so might Reddux. She had to move on, to try and find the exit. Surely that was what Sunset would want her to do. Yes… she’d find the exit and wait for Sunset.

Hooves shaking, eyes scouring the darkness for any sign of a threat, Twilight climbed over the rocks and down to the smooth cavern floor. She tried to clear her mind, to push away the panic that was threatening her. If she was going to find the exit, she needed to be logical.

Think. She just needed to think. Reddux had unwittingly provided a clue. He’d looked a certain direction when he thought he recognized her scent, hadn’t he? He could only have been looking towards the Gates! How could she use that? Surely she could…

She eyed the column. It had fallen in a certain direction… she and Sunset had approached it from…

Twilight ignored her pounding heart and churning stomach, her eyes going to the bottom of the shattered column. She fought back the fear and tried to determine as best she could which column they’d hidden behind first. She locked eyes on it, struggled to envision her and Sunset standing beside it. Where had Reddux been standing…

She turned, the fallen column on her left seeming to point into the darkness. Twilight could see nothing, but it was the only lead she had. Sucking in a calming breath, she began to walk at a quick pace, laboring to keep her hoofsteps as quiet as possible.

Soon the fallen column had been left behind and everything was looking perfectly identical. Nothing but darkness and more columns. Twilight followed as close a line as she could along the randomly spaced stone pillars, her eyes peering into the dark. The world remained intensely quiet, so that even her hammering heartbeat seemed loud to her ears. Every now and then she would turn about and peer back, just knowing that Reddux would be right behind her. It was a stupid idea: if something that big were coming surely she’d hear it. But she couldn’t help it; he was after her, and Celestia save her soul if he actually found her.

Her hoof landed on something, making it rattle. She jumped, biting her lip so hard it bled. She spun about, ready to face her doom… and felt her legs go weak.

Bones. Hundreds upon hundreds of bones, strewn about the floor in a gruesome carpet. They were picked clean, skulls leering at her with pristine whiteness. Ponies, griffons, every type of creature Twilight could imagine! This wasn’t murder… this was genocide. Twilight sat and covered her lips with shaking hooves, a terrified whimper slipping out of her throat.

But even as her mind was beginning to cloud with horror, she saw it: a wide, tall opening in a barely-visible wall. Deep down she knew that had to be the exit. But to get there…

She jerked back at the sight of movement, ready to bolt in an instant, but there was no attack. She peered at a column just across the boneyard, wondering if she was just seeing things… and then Sunset appeared, leaning around the stone and waving to her.

Twilight dropped to her haunches and heaved a sigh of relief: Sunset had made it! She looked once more and saw that Sunset was gesturing for her to come, but Twilight hesitated. She eyed the vast carpet of bones, lifting a leg anxiously as she thought about all the lives that had been lost. Walking across this struck her as… improper. Impolite. Insulting. But the exit was right there.

Sunset’s waving grew frantic, her expression desperate. Twilight spun a quick circle, but Reddux was nowhere to be seen. Knowing she had no choice and guilt gnawing at her, she began to cross. She winced as the bones rattled and shook at her passing, whispering her sincerest and deepest apologies to the souls of the dead. She moved as carefully as she could, knowing that one wrong step might cause further damage to the holes she still had in her hooves. Every clatter of bone sent a shiver down her spine, her empty stomach twisting as she readied for the one rattling step that would bring the wrath of Equestria’s most terrifying dragon down upon her.

“I knew you’d make it,” Sunset whispered as Twilight finally stepped past the last of the bones. They embraced before rushing to hide behind the column.

“Dunno,” Sunset admitted nervously. “One minute he’s hot on my tail, the next he’s gone. Let’s hope he’s still scouring the rest of the cavern for us.”

“Let’s hope,” Twilight agreed with a shudder. “My Goddess, Sunset, how many do you think he’s killed?”

Sunset averted her gaze from the field of bones. “I wouldn’t care to guess. But look!” She gestured to the vast opening in the wall before them. “The exit, Twilight! The Gates are right through there.”

Twilight looked and felt hope rising in her once more. There was still one thing on her mind, however: “So how are we supposed to get through the Gates, anyway?”

“We’ll figure that out when we get to them.” Sunset tugged Twilight forward with a grin. “Come on, let’s go.”

They turned in unison and marched for the tall tunnel. This was it, the last barrier! Twilight didn’t know how they were going to slip through, but it didn’t matter; just knowing that freedom was so close had her grinning. They were going to make it, she would go home, everything would be—

The tail slammed into the floor within inches of their muzzles, the world shaking so violently that they collapsed to the floor. Twilight let out a gasp as she rolled onto her back and gazed up at the sight of Reddux hanging near the ceiling, his legs holding tight to the wall and pillars.

Panic and instinct screamed for her to flee, but before Twilight could even start to stand the tail whipped across the floor, striking the two mares and sending them flying high. Twilight was just able to make out a claw darting through the darkness and wrapped about the flailing Sunset before she crashed into the field of bones. She bounced, rolled and screamed as something pierced into one of her hind legs.

She came to a stop on her belly, tears in her eyes as she looked back to find what appeared to be a broken, pale tibia sticking deep into her leg above the knee.

She looked up in horror at the sight of Sunset’s head sticking up from within Reddux’s fist. The dragon, a wicked smile on his lips, dropped from the ceiling with a resounding crash that made the bones surrounding Twilight jump.

“Such predictable little morsels. Did you really think I didn’t know where you were headed?”

Twilight tried to stand. Fire ran up her leg and she hit the ground a second time with a wail. “P-please, let her go! We just want to go home!”

“Let her go?” Reddux’s leg swung back, bashing against the wall behind him. Sunset’s head rocked back and forth from the violent motions. “Let me educate you, Gatekeeper. This mare once served your precious Princess Celestia!”

He tossed Sunset into the air, eliciting a horrified shout from both her and Twilight, but caught her in his claw with ease.

He dangled Sunset by the tail, whipping his claw back and forth so that she swung like a violent pendulum.

“I was going to rule this world! I was the master of all dragons! Who would dare to challenge me?”

“Twilight, hel—” His tail lashed up and struck Sunset from below, bouncing her back into the air.

“…so instead she tricked me. Lured me into the gates and trapped me here!”

Twilight crawled forward, tears in her eyes and a hideous terror in her heart. “Please, stop! R-Reddux, have mercy!”

His eyes widened, his lips pulled up in a snarl. “Mercy? Mercy?” His closed fist smashed into the wall again. It began to tighten. “I will make Celestia burn for an eternity for this humiliation! I will show her no kindness. I will crush her bones between my fingers, just like I will yours!” Another ear-splitting roar rocked the cavern.

Twilight reared her head back to scream. “Please! Sunset isn’t responsible for what Celestia did!”

For a few seconds Reddux only glared down at her, eyes livid and fists shaking. But then, abruptly, his expression eased and he opened his claw. He looked down at it, and Twilight could just make out Sunset laying on her belly. She was still breathing.

“No,” he muttered. “No, she isn’t. This pony is only associated with her as a failure, as I assume you are.”

Twilight bowed her head, shaking with shame and fear. It was true, wasn’t it? She was a failure. She was going to die here, when she was so close…

She looked up, rubbing the moisture from her cheeks. Sunset was staring at her, a leg shakily stretched out and eyes pleading. “H-help… me…”

“I think not.” Reddux other claw lowered over Sunset, hiding her from Twilight’s view. “Maybe you’re not responsible, but you still knew Celestia. It will give me supreme delight to imagine her pain at knowing you were brutally murdered by the one foe she couldn’t exterminate, even if it’s only an illusion.”

Twilight shook her head as she crawled a little closer. “No. L-leave her alone. K-kill me, instead!”

“Don’t worry,” he hissed with a fanged grin that didn’t match his eyes, “I will.”

His claws flew up, Sunset went flying. Time moved in slow motion as the pony spun in the air, Reddux’s cold yellow eyes following her arc. Twilight’s heart stopped, her breath caught, but her vision was crystal clear. She saw Sunset reaching for her, she reached back…

Reddux’s head flashed forward, his teeth clamping down on Sunset’s lower body. The pony screamed as blood poured down his chin. Sunset clawed at his fangs, pushed at his lips, fought to free herself from his hold.

“T-Twilight, please! We’re supposed to go together! You promised! You promised!”

The dragon reared back, his eyes locked on his squirming victim. Twilight could only stare, lips working soundlessly, lungs unable to fill for her mind-numbing anguish.

“I wanted to see Celestia! I was going to send you home! Twilight, help me!”

The dragon’s chest began to expand, his nostrils flared as he sucked in a long, deep breath.

“No, nonono! Don’t, Reddux, please! I don’t want to die! I want to go home! Twilight…

Her pitched screech shattered Twilight’s eardrums as the flames exploded about her and covered the cavern ceiling. Tears streamed down Twilight’s cheeks as she watched in mute terror. Sunset’s body could just barely be seen, squirming, shrieking, pleading incomprehensibly as the flames continued to char her fragile body.

Twilight collapsed and covered her ears against the horrible, horrible noise. Her body rocked with her sobs as she listened to her friend, her last friend, her only friend howl in agony and death.

The sound came to an abrupt end. A few seconds later something black and distinctly pony-shaped hit the floor right in front of Twilight. She stared at the smoking form, unrecognizable and peeling, and felt her stomach rebel. She vomited, looked up at what was left of her companion and vomited again. She turned away and collapsed, weeping as her last hope faded.

Reddux’s leg came down, landing square on top of Sunset’s charred form and crushing it. At the same time one of his claws landed atop Twilight’s leg, the one with the bone in it. Twilight felt the crunch as much as she heard it, screaming at the top of her lungs as searing pain tore through her.

Reddux’s face dropped low, his massive yellow eye peering into Twilight’s. “Sunset had nothing of value. You, however, have information that I need.”

Twilight sobbed against the pain and grief, her head slowly shaking. “I don’t know. I d-don’t know how to g-get out…”

“Oh, but I think you do, and you are going to share that knowledge with me. The only question is… what will it take to make you squeal?”

“P-please…” She buried her head in her hooves. “Please… spare m-me…”

A throaty, ominous chuckle filled the air. “You little morsels, so fragile, so easy to break.

The hard scales of a massive finger pressed against Twilight’s back, pushing down so that she couldn’t breathe. She gasped and squirmed, but then he eased off and she sucked in air. She barely had time to recover before he pressed down again.

“Tell me what I want to know,” Reddux whispered from overhead. “Tell me, and I’ll make your death much faster than hers.”

He released, and Twilight broke into a coughing fit as she recovered. It took several long seconds to get over it, mucus and phlegm covering her muzzle. “I… I sw-swear… I don’t know…”

“As you wish.” She felt his claw rubbing up and down her back. “Let’s see… what shall I do first?”

“I know.” She felt her good wing caught in a steely grip. It extended to its full span.

Her upper body rose as he began to pull on her wing, first gently, then harder. She screamed, legs reaching back in a futile attempt to grab her stretched appendage. “S-stop… stop!”

His hold on her hind legs shifted, his pull became stronger. Twilight screeched as something popped out of place, her world going red as her coat stretched and began to rip apart. The wing was ripped from her back with a final agonizing jerk that made her world explode in torturous pain. She fell to the bone-strewn floor like a broken mannequin, her body convulsing in short, jerky motions and the air seeping out of her lungs in short rasps.

For a moment – just the briefest instant – she thought she could see her friends standing at the edge of the boneyard, watching in quiet anticipation.

Her wing dropped before her eye, shattering the hallucination. Blood oozed from the ripped flesh, feathers fell in clumps from the limp form.

Twilight didn’t move. She didn’t look up. She couldn’t. She could only lay there, staring blankly at her wing.

“Oh, no.” She could feel his hot breath on her back. “That’s not how this works.”

Twilight didn’t recognize her own voice. It was too dull, too lifeless. She wasn’t even sure how the words were coming out. She didn’t care.

Her body rose through the air, dangling in agony from that one crushed leg. Her other legs hung limply as her dull gaze met with the piercing eyes of Reddux. “You won’t die, not until I know what you do.”

“Please…” Tears streams down her forehead and dripped through the cold air. “Please…”

His head drifted back, his lips curled up in a sneer. “Maybe you really don’t know, but you better. I will keep you as a pet until—” His eyes went wide as a rumbling sound filled the air. For several long seconds he was quiet, listening to that unfamiliar noise. Twilight didn’t care. She didn’t think about it.

Reddux began to turn, but as he did a bright violet light filled the cavern. A thick beam cut through the darkness, ripping into Reddux’s jaw and eliciting a furious bellow from the dragon as blood flew.

He lost his hold and Twilight dropped. She looked down at the fast approaching ground and prayed the impact would finish her.

Then she heard the flapping of wings, and suddenly she wasn’t falling anymore. Something had her… something flying. She was held tight against a sturdy, muscular chest, stone walls flying past her in a blur. Slowly, she looked up to see a pale face, a face she recognized but couldn’t place. He looked down on her with serious green eyes, she saw his lips working but couldn’t hear anything.

Light. She winced against its glare, slowly turning her head. A tall rectangle of white that grew taller by the second. What was it? Where was he taking her?

They passed through the rectangle, and Twilight thought her eye might be on fire! She covered her face and whimpered as they slowed and dropped. She was gently set upon hard earth just as she was able to look up at the glare and see…

Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe in her final moments she was drifting into some deep memory of a sky she would never see again. She didn’t mind. It was a sky, and she welcomed the sight of it.

That grinding noise came back. Her head slowly turned to gaze between white legs at a massive black stone gate that was gradually closing. She could just make out an object within, large and lumbering and coming closer. She saw the red scales, the furious yellow eyes. There was a flash of violet light, a violent roar…

The Gates shut. Two seconds later there was a resounding, earth-moving crash. And another. And another.

Maybe this was a dream. Maybe she was dead and this was heaven. Maybe she would never know what was going on. All that mattered was that, for the moment, her ordeal seemed to be over. She didn’t want to hope. That always led to pain.

She gazed up at the beautiful clouds, her mind drifting away. Something blocked her blurring view… two something. Faces. The white one…

All she could tell about the other before her mind fell to darkness was that it was a very familiar purple.

Twilight's Inferno

by PaulAsaran

The Known