Souls.
Three years ago, when Mr. Richard offered me—gave me the chance— to learn Soul Magic, I had never thought much about it, beyond the fact that it will greatly improve my Rune Mastery. And for what it’s worth, it did. But I never thought much about the implication of it—aside from being hunted and branded as a Warlock, of course—, the importance of learning Soul Magic itself.
Even now, as I raised my hoof in front of me, staring beautiful wispy and weak ball-like soul on top of it, I still hadn’t known a thing about it. Well, not exactly a thing, but I definitely didn’t know the real importance of Soul Magic. Of why it was created beyond the fact that it could be used as sealing, almost, every living being.
They are, however, still a peculiar thing. The soul’s fog-like tail—it definitely looked like one—danced and swished to the left and right, the end of it waving up and down like the mating dance of every Demi-human. In the center of the soul, only pure foggy white existed, and as it floated only centimeters away from my hoof, I felt nothing but a small chill that would usually accompanied by ghosts.
One would’ve thought, by the purity of the soul in front of me, it came from the soul of a Virgin, or a child, even. And one wouldn’t have thought it was the soul of a rapist, murderer, and child abuser with a history of public indecencies--flashing penis to children playing in a park. That’s why souls are peculiar; unless you’ve messed with it, chances are, it’s all going to be the same; wispy, grayish white, and fog-like. Except for elves, they don’t have souls.
As it was, I was beginning to feel the soul trying to weakly penetrate itself into my hoof, trying its damndest to pierce my body and rape my half and a quarter souls. In response, I flared a small amount of Mana into the soul, keeping it stock still as I suffocated the thing with my magic, cowing it down like a husband would to his less-than-subservient wife.
There was a movement from the bed caught my eyes, and I reflexively pushed a burst of Mana into the soul, extinguishing it like a candle’s flame, erasing it from the existence, and into the depths of Oblivion.
I glanced up, and I was welcomed by the sleepy face of Carol. There was a moment of silence as we stared at each other as she tried to regain some sort of sense into her sleep-addled mind.
“You’re not asleep?” She finally asked, her tone tired as a yawn soon escaped her mouth.
I shook my head. “No, I’m keeping watch,” I gave her an amused look. “A guard can’t hardly rest, especially when I’m—“adopting a mask”—guarding a tired mare and four foals, while they’re asleep,”
She gave me a look that probably said, ‘Are you serious?’, before shaking her head in exasperation. “Please, I’m hardly a weak mare, and even though it hurts my heart, the foals aren’t that helpless themselves,”
I smirked, only a small tug that probably went unnoticed in the dark. “I didn’t say that you’re weak,” I nodded to the blunderbuss, placed right where her cushion used to be. “I don’t know what that is—”I definitely know what that is”—, but I’m sure that’s dangerous. I’m just saying that you’re tired, and the foals are sleeping.”
She let out a sigh after a moment, conceding to my point, before she suddenly snorted. “Well, you still need to rest,” she said, and before I could open my mouth, she beat me to it, “And beside, this is a safe place. There won’t be any need of ‘defending’ as long as we’re here.”
Of course then, like the bitch Fate was, a particularly large stomp, or something akin to a large stepping sound rang from outside, echoing and shaking the room slightly.
Immediately, the four foals jumped in surprise and completely awake as they stood alert on their bed, panic and fear on their faces, though curiously, they didn’t seem vocal about it. I let out a sigh, giving a look to a wide-eyed Carol; her jaws moved uselessly as no sound came out.
“That’s,” she finally said, her voice shook in trepidation. “That’s not possible...”
I snorted, shooting the mare an exasperated look as I stood up from my spot. “Well,” I said softly, working the kinks out of my legs as I stretched a bit. “Everything is quite possible when you like to think of it as not,” I gave a final sigh as I headed to the door.
“Wait!” Carol shouted behind me, and I stopped, just a few inches away from the door. I heard a clopping sound from behind that I guessed as her standing up from her bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I rolled my eyes at her stupid question, before I looked over my shoulder—or whatever it was called—, Carol was staring at me with disbelief, and not so hidden terror as another stomp came closer to us. “I’m doing my job.” I sighed in exasperation, shaking my head slightly. “I don’t think I need to explain why, do I? We’d be dead by then,”
“B-But you’re going to die out there!” she exclaimed, her face looking like a mid-wife in an Imperial-invaded village. “Do you know the things that came from here? You should know. You’ve seen your friends died, and are you really that suicidal? It’s better that we stay here, hope that whatever out there would leave us be.”
The foals, I noted, were fidgeting uncomfortably on their feet. Their eyes darting from us, and to the door, and suddenly widened as another stomp sounded once more and closer to where we were in.
I gave her a tired look, which was more pronounced by the small bags around my eyes. “Look Carol, if I don’t go out there, you and the foals are definitely going to die a painful death as either into some abomination’s sex toys, or food,”
She bit her lips, wincing slightly in disgust as I mentioned ‘sex toys’, before she hung her head. “We’re doomed either way, anyway,” she muttered, probably meant neither for me nor the foals to hear. Shaking her head, she looked up at me, new resolution in her eyes. “Then I’ll be—“
It didn’t need a smart to figure out what she was going to say, so naturally I cut her off, “No.” Besides I would rather fight monsters alone or at least with competent fighters. Not some civilian with Imperial’s dirty weapons. “You should stay here, keep the foals safe if I die,” which was as likely as my father to ever stopping to fuck his on-duty bodyguards, or like a sick child sodomizing a dead pigeon.
I could see the hesitation in Carol’s eyes as her eyes switched between me and the foals. It was a bit funny, in my own sick twisted amusement. To think that she would fight along a self-proclaimed guard in a life or death situation, than with her loved ones.
Finally, and thankfully, she sighed, “Oh, fine.” her horn lit up and the blunderbuss floated alongside her as she took a sit on the bed, quickly hugged by the terrified foals. She let out a tiny chuckle, nuzzling the foals, all the while keeping the point of her blunderbuss aimed to the door, and by proxy, me.
I sighed, popping my flexible neck as the creature outside made its existence known with a closing stomp. I made a small mental note to ask where she got the weapon as I twisted the doorknobs with my jaws, and swiftly passed through it, clicking it shut with a pull of my jaws.
Calmly, I turned to the left, to where I had thought the creature of the dark was coming from. Another closer stomp confirmed my suspicion, and I waited, my eyes already adapted by the darkness of the long, haunting corridor as they stared at the ink space.
There was another stomp, and I could feel the sound of movements coming from the dark. I took a deep breath, the mutilated scars of my legs glowed blue as I pushed mana into it, ready to manipulate the mana within into something else.
It was unfortunate—and quite shitty— that I was an equine, a body that, though I adapted well, I couldn’t still move normally as I would as a human. Still, I was going to make do with everything I had; like with the mini, if blunt, stabbing tool and weird biological catalyst—of which I didn’t dare using because strange magic is dangerous— on my forehead.
Another stomp sounded, and either it was close or strong enough, I felt the ground under me reverberate. It was apparently the former as the darkness within the deep end moved, squirmed and writhed as it separated itself from the endless shadow of the corridor until it came to sight.
Its elongated pure black body, reminded me of a worm, glistened in its own liquid. Its tail, a large black hand that looked like a gorillas’ fist slammed down on the ground as it stopped just before me. Trailing from its slick black skin, to its head was a white blank mask, three holes representing the eyes, and mouth. The thing’s meaty forked tongue rolled from its mouth-hole, swaying right and left like my drunken father.
All in all, the abomination freak before me looked like an experiment gone wrong, wherein it was the combination of a worm, snake, and a black gorilla.
Its empty black eyes gazed at me, as if looking for something. Suddenly, its mask rippled like a shook jar-filled cum, shaping itself unnaturally like a woman after being married, before it settled into something familiar.
To be specific, it was the smirking face of Jaime Redfield the Fool, with the added bonus of that swaying dick from its mouth.
I gave the ugly thing a snort. “If you’re intending to make me hesitate trying to kill you, you’re failing like that face’s sex life,”
Its head cocked to the side, the smug grin on the Fool’s face widened, and the tongue twirled around like the tongue of a whore. I had thought then, that standing there, facing the repugnant face of the Fool was the worst thing I’ll be seeing anytime soon. I was wrong.
“Well, Brother,” the thing spoke, its familiar, and out of place, smug voice grating into my ears like a vampire that just won’t die. “Is that how you treat your brother?”
I gave it a flat stare. “No. Usually I ignored him.” A small smirk crept onto my face. “Until recently, three years or so, I mutilated him, killed his familiar and left him alive; a cripple, a eunuch, and a failure for life.”
Though regardless of the state and reasons why I left the Fool alive, I still couldn’t help but to see it as a mistake. The Redfield’s entire reputation, burned to ashes by a broken shell of an incompetent Lord. That’s not counting the bounty hunters, or the mercenaries he kept on sending me like a lovesick teenager.
The thing moved—slithered— closer, disregarding my words as it lunged at me, the smug face of the fool was all I saw before I rolled to the side. Grunting as my side became the victim of the Wall. Quickly, I climbed to hooves, and turned around.
Only to receive the black open palm of the thing’s fist, slamming me back to the wall. I grunted once again, choking on my spit as it grabbed me and slammed me again to the wall, again, and then again. It was only because of the runes all over my robe that I only received a major bruise on my side, and probably a few broken ribs somewhere in there.
Gritting my teeth, I forced my head to the side, and chomped the hand’s thumb hard; disgusting, and bitter blood splattered into my mouth.
The thing yelped in pain, releasing me from its grip. Ignoring the pain, I stood to my hooves, and spat out the bad blood out of my mouth—black blood, definitely not a demon. Glaring at the thing, I relished for a moment at the snarl appearing on its face.
“What’s wrong? Baby wants a booboo?”
With a snarl, the thing’s tongue shot out at me. And before I knew it, it was already around my neck. I cursed, choking as the thing dragged me closer. An immediate plan formed into my mind as I let an icicle flew from my hoof, and through the meaty tongue.
It screamed as black blood spurted out of the hole. Dropping me unceremoniously to my ass, I quickly stood up, and bit down the tongue before it could return.
If I didn’t know it couldn’t scream before, I did now. Because it shrieked like a bitch, and better yet, it was using the fool’s voice. And despite the revolting taste of the blood, and the fact that it was pouring out of my mouth like a mind-rape’s victim, or the wriggling tongue inside my mouth, I couldn’t help but to relish on its pain as I tugged at the tongue.
The thing flailed harder as I bit down harder, yanking it away in hope I would release it. “No! No! Take it off, take it off!” it screamed, which honestly, was more like, “Ogh! Ogh! Hake ik hauf, hake ip auf!”
Of course, I didn’t do it. I raised my glowing hoof, pushing the mana out, transforming it into my favorite element: Ice. Blades of ice sprouted from the bottom of my hoof, its edge ready to cut the tongue off before suddenly a large hand found itself wrapped around my barrel.
I widened my eyes, but before the hand could pull me away, I bit down the tongue hard. It was tough, and I still couldn’t cut it with my teeth, but I wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon.
I could see the look of relief from its face vanished as it realized what I was going to do. But before he could say anything, the hand around my barrel pulled me up off the ground, and twirled me around, only to face another snake-worm-gorilla thingy.
This time, it was the face of Rebecca, or was it Betty? Whoever it was that used to be the fool’s obsessive girlfriend, before I sold her body to the Imperial.
There was a snapping sound as the tongue between my teeth went slack. I heard choking noise from behind me, and saw the widened eyes of Mandy. There was a pouring noise of something thick, before something dropped with a wet schlop behind me.
I spat the dead tongue out of my jaws, spitting away the black blood to Jenny’s face. It blinked, turning away from the blood scene behind, and back to me, its eyes glaring in anger.
It slammed with to the ground, and again, and again. In the midst of the pain, I pondered the definition of insanity. One particular slam, unfortunately, hit my horn to the ground; warm liquid poured out from orifices as I let out a choked groan. I was slammed once more, and I knew there were more than one internal bleeding happening inside of me as a gobble of blood forced its way out of me. Another slam, and a couple or ribs were shattered from its sternum, wrecking pain all over my face as I contemplated the amount of health potion I would need to drink.
It was only because of my overly-protected defensive robe that I was probably still alive, and shaped as a blood-bathed, bruised, wounded, and very much alive pony instead of becoming a red mush of flesh.
Then it stopped, raising my bent up body up to its face. It blinked in befuddlement as I opened my eyes, blood leaking from both of them as I glowered at its face, spitting blood over its face. I had no doubt it was utterly confused on how I was still alive.
“You’re alive...” the thing whispered in disbelief. “How...”
I spat a glob of blood to its face. I could still feel my hooves. That was good. I could still feel that mana beneath my hooves’ skins. That was better.
I cocked my free hoof backward, spear of ice jutted from its flat, and like a cheap elf whore, I gave the thing a one of a kind eyejob.
The thing screamed in pain, its hand chucking me to the ground like a broken toy, before it clutched its blackened face of Meredith; thick black sauce spurting uncontrollably from its right eye like a fountain. Not giving the thing the chance of reprieve—lest I found myself slammed again like a disgusting ginger candy—, I charged, more like limped, towards its belly.
The mini dagger of my head proved to be effective as a spear— no doubt coincidentally sharpened by its painful chipping— as it gored deep into its black as sin skin. The thing gasped in pain, before screaming once more as I swung the serrated part of my horn downwards.
Ink blood sprayed all over my body as I pulled the horn away, and stepped away from the rain of blood, grunting in pain as I put too much weight to my bent leg. The thing gurgled, ink blood pooling to the small crater caused by its bout of berserk, before it fell backwards with a loud thump. Its face crushed its own hand.
I heaved a sigh of relief, groaning in agony as pain coursed through my body, spitting another gobble of blood as I limped to the wall, letting my side to lean on them. I gazed at the dead creature for a moment. “Alas, Jennifer, I hardly knew ye.” I muttered, my bloodied and bruised hoof reaching inside my trusty bag, searching for the largest healing potion.
Then I remembered that I would need the bones to be mended first, before I could heal them. I shuddered; gods know if I didn’t mend them. Grunting, I leaned away from the wall, and stood on three hooves; my left hindleg rose slightly as not to aggravate it.
Carefully, as not to slip by the pools of blood, I limped my way to the door. Grunting for each step it took, before I finally reached my destination. Leaning down carefully, I twisted the knob with my mouth, and pushing it open.
There were collective gasps as I stumbled in, swinging the door shut, before I leaned backwards to it. Carol and the four foals were there, staring at me with their jaws agape in horror.
“Didn’t your parents tell you it’s rude to stare at people?” I rasped softly, raising an eyebrow.
Carol blinked her horn dying as she put the blunderbuss to the bed, before she rushed to my side. Concern apparent in her eyes as she eyed my entire body, before it finally settled to my dickhead. “What happened to you?” she gasped in horror.
I winced as her hoof touched my horn, immense pain coursing through my head as I gave her a glare. She pulled her hoof away, sheepish and guilty. “Slammed,” I hissed, clenching my eyes shut. Even my eyes were stinging like a salt over wound. “And not in a good way, either,”
The mare beside me stayed quiet, her hastening breathing reached over my newly-sensitive ears as she repeatedly muttered, “What do I do, what do I do?”
I miss Nero and her cute snark. I demurely thought, before I reached inside my bag, and pulled a roll of bandage. “Wrap it around my barrel and leg,” I said to her, handing the bandage to her. “And take the rest for Merry,” I added for an afterthought. Unlike my limited amount of potions, I still got a few rolls in my bag. I remembered buying a dozens of those two years ago, in some copper shop. The merchant was unreasonably stingy when I bargained the price down from five coppers per roll, into a measly one copper per roll.
Gently, and swiftly at the same time, I could feel the balanced bandage being taken away from my hoof, and to her magical grip. “Thank you,” I heard her mutter under her breath, before I was being mare-handled by her rather invasive show of telekinetic magic.
I had to hold back a curse as I leaned slightly forward, letting her to wrap the bandage all around my barrel. “Tighter,” I grunted, wincing in pain as she did so. I heard creaking from inside myself, and I noticed my makeshift medic had stopped working, a shocked squeaking sound coming from her. “Well, tie it up, then.” I gritted through my teeth.
“Sorry,” was her hastened reply as I felt the bandages around my barrel were tied, followed by a ripping sound. “It’s just that I’m not sure it’s supposed to be sounding like that,” she muttered shakily, her telekinetic aura covered my broken hoof before the grip stiffened. “Uh, what do I do with this?”
I hissed under my breath. “Just pull it until you could see the bone’s set straight, then roll the bandage around it, and make it secure. Got it?”
“Got it.” She quickly answered, and I had to shout in pain as I felt my broken leg being pulled. “Sorry!” she shouted, before suddenly she let out a loud squeak. “Oh Celestia, it’s bleeding!”
“What?” I croaked, cracking my eyes open to my broken leg, and there it was. A piece of my skin torn apart, where a broken off pearl white bones could be seen spurting out fresh red blood from its marrow. “You tore the skin.” I breathed, clenching my eyes tight in mild pain as it throbbed. “How the hell did you tore my skin?!”
“I don’t bucking know! I’m a teacher, not a nurse. I’m good with foals, not a sick stallion who is about to die, alright!?”
I forced a sigh out of my system. “Just realign the damn bone, and roll the bandage around it. Make sure it’s tight.”
I felt her aura wrapped around me once more time. “Get ready,” she said, a deep breath coming from her lips, before I heard a loud snap from my leg. A cry of pain shot through my throat as I felt my broken leg being ‘realigned’.
Ignoring my pain of cries, as she should be, Carol quickly rolled the bandage all over my broken leg until it was secure; letting out a pained gasp as she tightened the bandage, before followed by a rip from the bandage.
“Done.” The mare gasped, stepping away from me. “I’m never doing that again.” I heard her mutter under her breath.
“Shame,” I told her, opening my eyes as my hoof reached into my trusty bag, before it returned with a large bottle of red potion. Or at least, the largest I had. Brushing off Carol’s inquisitive look, I pulled the cork out with my teeth, and drank it all the way.
The effect was immediate as I felt the red, cherry-flavored, liquid burned through my throat and my body. For the uninitiated, one may think they were drinking the wrong kind of drink. They were wrong, and plenty of them ended up having more limbs than needed in unnecessary places for drinking too much of it, under the pretense that they thought they were drinking the correct potion.
I remembered the small lecture my old, and probably dead, Alchemy professor had told us about of Health Potion works. Contrary to popular and uneducated belief, Magical Health Potions do not heal you magically. It does, however, magically accelerates your metabolism, and by proxy, healing.
Which was why I had a sudden bout of hungriness; sluggishly, my fine, and slightly bruised, hoof reached into my trusty bag, and pulled out the batch of bounties I had liberated the days before. Carrots, apples, and such; unfortunately, I had no opposable thumbs so I forewent taking that can of beans.
It was only moments after setting the batch of foods out to the hardwood floor that I noticed the sudden silence enveloping the room. Looking up, I was greeted by the frozen, wide eyed faces of the room’s occupants, staring at the batch of various fruits and vegetables like they were foods provided by the self-entitled gods themselves.
Shrugging, I took some apples, carrots, and other vegetables into my lap, before I shoved the batch of foods to Carol with my good leg. “Here,” I offered, my throat burning from the potion, snapping out Carol and the other foals from their sick cibophilia daydreams.
“How...” She whispered as I took a bite out of the crunchy and sweet carrot, a look of confusion on her face. “That’s not possible. The bag’s too small for that...”
“Magic,” I drawled, resisting the urge to condescendingly wave my carrot at her as I took a large bite out of said carrot. “And learn your priorities, the foals are starving,” I chided her, ignoring her slight glare. Which they were, by the predatory looks—that would make every predator to bow in shame— they were giving at the pile of foods.
Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, before she glanced at the foals behind her, and clicked it shut. “Fine,” she sighed, floating the batch of foods with her magic. “We won’t probably need this much anyway,” she noted, dropping them on the bed, next to the foals. “Thank you anyways.”
I shrugged, munching on another carrot. “Welcome,” I said as they ate the foods without proper manner, just like the little horses they are. It made me smile, in a way. I heard feeding orphans always bring great tidings, if I remembered correctly from the Frontline’s training and indoctrination camp.
It brought fond memories from my mind. How Captain Corpus would give me and my fellow teammates on how to kill Imperials. Or the painful physical training we would be given for every morning. How they would pit us against each other. How our familiars would commute with each others, arguing who’s the best master. And let’s not forget the extreme indoctrinations that they would put us every 24/7 for a year.
Sighing fondly at the memory, I took a bit of my apple, feeling myself growing full as my wounds healed and the burns inside me fading ever so slowly. Gingerly, I pressed a hoof over my barrel. The pain was still there, probably still bruised, but it wasn’t broken anymore. Lifting my bandaged leg, I pushed it against the floor, feeling the shot of dull pain, but there wasn’t anything broken anymore.
I took that information with a sigh of relief. I had a doubt that it wasn’t going to work as I had hoped it would be. The bones protruding out to the wrong way, or deformed beyond belief by the not-so-perfect first aid.
Slowly, and ignoring the collective gasps from Carol and the foals, I climbed up to my four hooves.
“Wait, what they hay are you doing?!”
I ignored her, my breathings tightened slightly, and my previously broken hoof wouldn’t touch the ground without the occasional shock of pain. I let out a groan, hanging my head slightly. “Well, I suppose everything can’t be perfect.” I muttered.
“Wait,” I looked up to see Carol’s closing body, her eyes once more wide in disbelief. “You’re healed... but, how?”
I offered her a crooked smile. “Magic can do a lot of things Carol,” I told her condescendingly, wincing as my imperfect hoof touched the floor. “Well, obviously not perfect healing. But then, I suppose that’s something I’d risked.”
She glanced back at the foals, missing my tone. Merry in particular, was looking at me rather hopefully. Carol looked back at me. “Can you?” the message was clear by the look.
I shook my head as I limped around the floor, trying to get used to my new limp. “No. Unless you still have her eye, but even so—“I need it more”—it won’t work, anyway.” I answered, waving a hoof dismissively at Merry.
She hung her head down; ears flopped back as she stared at the bed sheet demurely. “Oh.”
There was a bout of awkward silence as I limped around the room, ignoring the depressed mood in the air like the oblivious little cunt I was as I focused on my little sojourn. In the background, I heard Carol slowly walked her way back to the bed, giving Merry a deep hug, turned into a group hug as the other foals wrapped their petite bodies around her. I could even hear them sob as I circled the room for the tenth times.
What is it about these ponies that make them so goddamn emotional? I made a small mental note to ask that to Celestia or Hay Due the moment I was done leaving this place.
It was about the thirtieth circling that I finally stopped doing it. I wasn’t going to be running perfectly, but at least I won’t be tripping over some stupid pebble. Still, there was an uncomfortable silence as I stood there in boredom, and I wasn’t talking about the huddling ponies on the bed.
There’s something that I was missing. It was important, I knew, but I can’t put a finger in it. It was like that dark dreary time when I and my teammate were captured during mission, that moment when I was forced to torture my teammate to see if I was an enemy or not. I licked my dry lips, and recapped in my mind the hours since my arrival in this weird limbo.
Then it came to me: Psyche. Ever since I was forcefully plunged deep into this limbo, the beautiful and egotistical goddess never made herself known to me. I didn’t even feel her presence in my head. I bit my lips. Not only that, what was the two abominations’ purpose? Obviously, Carol and the foals had been here for a long time, and they were never attacked by those abominations.
I glanced at the ponies on the bed, then at the door. A chilling feeling touched my spine, and that was the only warning I needed as I turned around to the ponies in bed. Only to feel the urge to curse the gods as Carol and the foals turned to a familiar black liquid.
It flowed smoothly through the satin sheet, just like a river of blood, dripping from the edge of the bed and to the hardwood floor, forming into a small puddle of black ink. The puddle trembled in place, somehow managing to cause a creaking sound on the floor, and just like a steaming kettle, it let out an ear-piercing shriek.
And that was all the warning I needed as the runes on my hoof crackled to life, throwing a ball of blazing fire to the bed, setting a fire upon the black puddle, before I turned around. Hearing it shriek in horrible pain as I exited, and slammed the door close.
I skidded to the left, ignoring that small fact that the hall was spotless of any blood. There were ear-piercing shrieks behind me as I ran into the darkness. There were sounds of familiar thumping, only if the last one I heard only one, this time I was sure there were more than two.
They were getting closer, I was sure. The limp on my leg made sure of that, and I narrowly missed something being thrown at my hooves, leaving a loud scream from the floor that made me hasten my pace, cursing my luck as I took a turn left at the end of the corridor.
There it was, the stairs where I met ‘Carol’, where ‘Carol’ threatened me to follow ‘her’. I grimaced as my limping leg accidently kicked the stairs as I carefully climbed down the stairs. Of course, halfway by, I noticed the lack of thumping.
And the next thing I knew, a large hand wrapped its fingers around my—thankfully healed—barrel and this time, the front hooves as well; lifting me off the ground, and turned me around.
The sweetest and innocent smiling face of ‘Carol’ greeted me. “Going away soon, Psyche?” She saccharinely asked, tilting its repulsive head in askance. “I thought you’re going to help us,” it then twisted its head backwards to the shadow. “Right kids?”
Out of the shadow, three familiar snakelike figures appeared, wearing the faces of a familiar three foals; all of them grinning like they were going to experience their first sex.
“Yes, Mrs. Carol,” the three things chorused, giggling excitedly in that bubbly and squeaky voices of theirs. “This is going to be our first time.”
I asked the first thing came to mind. “Wait, you’re married?” I asked, cocking my brows, because fuck priorities.
The thing before me blinked. “Well yes,” she answered with a hint of cruelty in her tone thing as her meaty tongue reached to my face. “Going to be, anyway. I’m going to make you mine.”
“I apologize,” I didn’t apologize at all. “But I’m a bachelor for life.” Without further ado, I swung my head down, biting on the fingers around me.
The thing shrieked in pain as I was sent careening downstairs. Bruises were collected and gathered as I fell on the stairs, bouncing and rolling up and down as I felt the world around me a blur. I felt immense pain as my horn hit one particular step, hearing it cracked as blood leaked once more from my orifices.
The world went a full stop as I hit the end of the stairs with my back on the floor. Tilting my head up, I found a furious ‘Carol’ glaring at me, and three ‘foals’ screaming as they rushed to the stairs.
Not to be beaten, I crawled up to four— three hooves, limping my way in pain to the door. The stairs behind me creaked as I heard the wail of the ‘foals’ got closer to me. I hastened my steps, completely ignoring the pain as I rushed to the door.
I opened the damn thing with my mouth, and quickly slammed it close as I exited the house, narrowly missing the ‘foals’ as I felt the door let out a loud budging noise, before it stopped. I let out a sigh of relief, groaning in pain as I leaned to the door.
Gingerly, I let my hoof traveled to my forehead, only to found the mini dagger gone, and instead there was a messy and spiky stump on there. I winced as pain coursed through my head, threatening my mind to explode into a messy stain of gore.
Quickly, I dropped my hoof to the ground; gritting my teeth in pain as I felt bruises all around me throbbing like a pen of tortured bitches that just won't shut up. My breathings were cut short as I tried to take a deep breath, coughing and spluttering blood all over my hoof.
“Looks like you won’t be using magic anytime soon,"
Ah.
Weakly, I raised my head up, looking straight up to the short sword pointed at under my neck. Trailing along the metallic blade, I saw a quite familiar blue filly, if not older, with an eyepatch over her left eye, and a scowl that looked like it was stuck on her face for far too long than it should be. I saw a small sliver of sympathy and pity as we stared at each other in silence, with me letting out occasional ragged breaths while she would occasionally let her eye travel across my beaten and bloodied equine body.
Never had I thought before this time, that I'd survive from dying from the pity of other.
But I did, anyway, and she hesistantly lowered her blade away from my neck. "Let's get you to safety," she muttered as she slipped into my personal space, and somehow lifted me up to her back. With a grunt, she turned around and walked me to who knows where--a slaughterhouse, maybe?--. "Kindness is a rarity in here."