//------------------------------//
// Use Your Enviroment 
// Story: Welcome To The Masquerade 
// by Xhadow 
//------------------------------//

	Clara's screams of rage slowly drew me out of the extended nap, but amplified the pain in my head. 

"Wakey, wakey little guy," the target punched me, "my, my you could sleep through a hurricane."

"When I get out of this I'm going to kill you," I informed, pulling against the ropes. I was tied to one of the antique wooden chairs with Clara similarly bound in the chair across from me. 

Clara slowly shook her head and muttered something behind the dirty rag in her mouth. 

"That hurts, Rider," she feigned shock, "and here I thought we were friends." 

"I won't spare you again," I spat in her face, "rot in Oblivion you dirty whore." 

A grim smile spread over her face, "if you want to play hard to get, just remember two can play that game." She took a swing at Clara, nearly breaking her jaw. 

Clara slumped over the arm of her chair, groaning in pain as the target pounded on her mercilessly. 

I pulled desperately, fighting against my bindings to no avail. 

After what seemed like hours she stopped, flipping her mane out of her eyes with a bloody hoof. She turned to me with a cheery grin, "I thought you would see it my way." 

"If you want to live, run. Run away, because I am getting out of this chair and when I do Celestia herself won't be able to save you." I said, bracing myself for a beating. 

"Aw, the little assassin's going to cry," she said with a slap, "I'll give you something to cry about." 

She punched me again and again, like clockwork left, right and back again. 

I spat, clearing the blood from my mouth, "that all you've got?" 

She  gripped my head, turning my gaze to meet her sick, twisted smile. "I liked you already," she sighed, "with your costumes and crusade, you're just too cute to be one of them." 

Clara shouted behind her gag, thrashing violently against the ropes digging into her bleeding forelegs. 

She turned to face her other captive, "but, some mares are in the way." Slowly she marched over to the shouting Clara, "I just love a dedicated guy don't you?" 

Clara screamed in absolute rage, getting in her captor's face as much as she could. 

"I should reward you for your effort," the paladin licked her lips and started beating Clara again. 

I couldn't take it, the sight of my beloved mentor being reduced to a plaything for the enemies she had despised so much. 

I couldn't turn away and watched blow after blow draw blood. The paladin only stopped when Clara's chair tipped sideways onto the floor. 

She turned back to me, "you shouldn't say such things around the foal, dearie." Her smile grew as she slowly made her way towards me. 

I pulled against the ropes, desperate to escape. 

"After all, he's a good little boy, but prone to mischief." She stopped in front of me, her deceptively soft eyes grating against my soul. 

Her smile grew as she took a step back, pivoted, and kicked my leg. 

I braced my eyes closed and set my jaw, I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hurting me. 

"Aw, you're so sweet," she sighed resting a hoof on my shoulder, she leaned in and kissed my exposed cheek, "I'm going to finish her and then it's your turn love." 

She shoved me into the back of the chair and stormed off to beat on Clara again. 

clenching my jaw I lifted my broken leg to the rope, the exposed bone digging into the braded fibers. Icy pain, like the breath of death herself coursed through me with every attempt to cut the rope. 

"Maybe I'll allow you to see him again, you'd like that wouldn't you," the paladin rambled on between landing blows. 

I didn't pay any attention, I leaned back in the chair. The wooden relic tipped, creaking, dangerously close to tipping over. Mustering my determination I threw my weight forward, and then back again until I felt the chair tip over. 

I fell with a loud crash and the sound of snapping wood. 

"There's so much you could've taught him, it's so sweet that you tried though." The paladin grinned at her bleeding and broken victim, "maybe someday you'll finally learn..." 

I drove the jagged, broken stick into her throat as hard as I could, "...not to cross the Riders," I finished her sentence and threw her body to the floor. 

"Clara," I held her misshapen head in my hooves, hoping, praying that she would wake up again, "please..." 

Her blood stained my hooves and my robes, but I stayed with her for...the immortals only know how long, trying to get her to live again. 

This was it, Clara's favorite lesson in action: utilize your surroundings. 

Finally, I cried myself to sleep in that house of the dead.