//------------------------------// // Scars of the Mind // Story: Scarred // by TheGentlecoltAlex //------------------------------// Blood. There was so much blood everywhere. Staining the muddy battlefield a horrid rust color, and filling the air with an acrid odor that would have made Big Macintosh vomit at any other moment. But not in these seconds. Around the red soldier time has moved to a standstill. The sounds of countless ponies, zebras, griffins, and dragons screaming in pain and rage dulled in his ears. All he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, heavy and echoing in his chest. Right now, all that mattered was the stallion that he was holding in his arms. Braeburn was looking up at him with sheer panic in his light green eyes. His lips were moving, but all that came out was more blood that dripped from his mouth down his once vibrantly orange coat. More of the crimson liquid was pulsing out from beneath his hoof as he tried to keep it from spilling from his cousin’s throat. But there was no stopping it, and Macintosh could feel his windpipe convulsing for air every second. Big Macintosh found himself mute in those moments. Trying to say anything to comfort one of his best friends in all Equestria. Trying to tell him to hang on. To hang on for the little colt that he’d left in Appleoosa. To hang on because he couldn’t bear to lose him in these dark times. But words failed him as he watched the life steadily drain from Braeburn’s eyes, until finally he felt the body beneath him give one last shudder, and then fall still. Tears fell from Macintosh’s eyes onto the still-warm body beneath him. He didn’t care how dangerous it was to stay there. He refused to let go of Braeburn’s limp body. He didn’t care that his cousin’s blood stained against him, causing his fur to become matted and sticky. He reached up to forever close those familiar eyes. Braeburn’s hoof shot up to grab his own, and Macintosh started. The eyes he’d known to be filled with kindness and joy were now burning fiery orange, with vertically slit pupils that glared at him with such malice he felt like it was burning a hold into him. Then the blood stained mouth opened, and a raspy voice shouted at him. “Dout enel tepohaic slain udoka shio!!” Suddenly those spiteful red eyes were replaced with kind blue ones. Sapphire eyes that he could recognize anywhere. Mac’s senses had returned to him in a flash, and he relished in the feeling. The sound of the dying was replaced with her quiet breathing and a creaking mattress. The feeling of a limp body in his arms was replaced by her tightly pressed against him. The smell of blood replaced by her sweet perfume. Big Macintosh knew where he was. He remembered this night with vivid clarity. This was the night of their honeymoon. A five-starred hotel in Haywaii. The sounds of the ocean crashing just beyond their window. This was just before he had left her behind for fifteen of the longest years of his life. And they were in the middle of their first night together. Not just as husband and wife, but as lovers. “Mac.” her comforting voice pulled him from his panic, “Mac, it’s okay.” Her front hooves wrapped around his neck. “You don’t have to worry. I trust you.” Macintosh felt his mouth pull into a tight smirk, and his tongue ran against his front teeth. “That was your mistake.” Unable to control himself, Big Macintosh lurched down and latched onto his wife’s neck with his razor sharp metal fangs. He could hear her begin to scream from pain for only an instant, before it was replaced with a wet gargle, as he ripped his head back, taking a large chunk of her flesh with him. He could only bear witness as he looked down on his dying wife. He watched as the blood squirted from the raw, gaping wound he had left her with. He saw the abject terror in her eyes as tears formed in them. Her hooves reached up to paw vainly at where her throat had once been. Her life blood staining her beautiful yellow coat. Big Macintosh wanted to retch. To try and save his beloved, like he had tried to save his cousin. To answer the unending question of “Why?!” that seemed to be screaming from her eyes. But all he did was swallow the bloody mass of pegasus in his mouth and smile. He heard himself laughing, and mocking the look of betrayal and unmeasured sadness on her face. Macintosh watched her eyes grow dull and then he leaned down to lap greedily on the still streaming tears from her dead eyes. Again he was removed from the situation in the blink of an eye. He was in the back of a hall, crowded with other ponies trying to avoid bumping into one another. He was facing a stage, and standing on it was his youngest sister, Apple Bloom. She was dressed in a long black gown, and smiled excitedly as she was handed a rolled parchment by Mayor Mare. Mac knew what was going on. It was a moment he wished he had been there for. His baby sister was graduating. Apple Bloom moved up to the podium and began to speak into the microphone, “Ah wanna thank the graduatin’ class of 1502 for awarding me valedictorian…” The excited yellow mare launched into a speech, but Macintosh couldn’t concentrate on her as he watched his hand move up. A crossbow with a deadly bolt tucked snuggly onto it was aiming straight at his sister. Nopony seemed to notice. Big Macintosh was shouting as loudly as he could to stop in his head, but it was a fruitless endeavor as he felt himself pull on the trigger, and the recoil as he launched the arrow. He wanted to scream as he saw his sister’s head lurch backwards, the long shaft of the bolt protruding from her forehead. The geyser of crimson that shot into the air as she landed on the stage with a resounding thud. His own evil laughter echoed around the room. Everypony applauded. He was on top of the barn now. His bruised and bloodied sister laying at his feet. Her hooved tied tightly together. A gag wrapped firmly in her mouth. She was looking up at him through her swollen eyes, he could see she was trying to find out who this monster that stood over her was, because it sure as shit wasn’t her brother. He chuckled and rubbed his hooves together and grabbed the thick rope that lay at his feet. He pushed the loop at the end around Applejack’s neck and tightened it. He watched her eyes try to widen in fear and her pupil dilate and twitch left and right. Her legs pushed desperately against her bonds, but he knew it was to no avail. He’d taught her everything she knew about ropes, after-all. He picked her up by the scruff of her neck and walked to the edge of the roof and held her over the two story drop. He could see three other bodies swinging just below them, one of them was even still twitching. Big Macintosh gave one last look into his little sister’s eyes. They were begging for him not to do this. Pleading for him to stop this rampage pf death he was wrecking on his family. He leaned forwards until their noses were almost touching. “No.” Big Macintosh could only watch in disgusted horror as his little sister’s body dropped from his hoof and fell towards the earth beneath them. For a moment he thought that she was going to hit the ground. Maybe she could still run away and escape from him. But his hopes were quickly squashed as her body came to a jerking stop. She bounced slight, and he could see her wiggling, desperately trying to break free. He cackled and kicked her rope, causing her body to swing to the left and crash into her smaller sibling. Macintosh watched with a smug smile stretched evilly across his face until the body of his dear sister stopped moving, and hung still. Macintosh didn’t know where he was now. He was standing on top of a pile of branches. He could feel the branches poking against his legs as he stood in the very center of the heap of dry, dead wood. He stood stock still as he saw a tall, gray body march slowly towards him. He recognized who it was in an instant. His captor. “You seek to defy me, servant?” He hissed coldly, “You think that you can serve me, and still defy me?” The bright orange eyes stared intensely into Mac’s soul, and the haze surrounding the dragon form seemed to deepen. “You have been slain, survived, and given new life by your master, and you think you can betray me?!” It was in that moment that Mac became very aware of how hard it was to breathe. In that moment the scent of pure oil surrounded him. In that moment, he became more terrified than he had even been before in his life. “I shall show you what happens to those who do not obey their master!” Malsvir roared, and his maw opened to release a large jet of pure orange fire that slammed into the heap of wood Mac stood upon. The oil soaked branches burst into flame instantly, rapidly spreading towards the gray Clydesdale. Big Macintosh couldn’t move as the fire roared around him, licking greedily at his legs and catching upon his fetlocks quickly. He had found his voice though, as he screamed in unimaginable agony. The flames seared his flesh quickly and he watched as it blistered and blackened its way up his legs, onto his chest, and up his neck. He let out a scream that no pony should have been able to produce. And all the while Malsvir laughed. *** Big Macintosh woke up screaming. His throat was raw from the long hours of yelling and begging he had put it through. Sweat drenched his brow and dripped down into his eyes, where it caused them to sting. He gasped for air and coughed as the air that he breathed in rubbed against his tender vocal cords. He tried to lift an arm to wipe some of the sweat from his brow but couldn’t. It was still clamped down tightly against the metal chair he had been left in. He could feel his muscles ache for movement and he tried to stretch as best he could. He heard the jangle of metal keys and the turning of a rusty lock. Panicking, the farmer dropped his head and closed his eyes; hoping that the monster that was imprisoning him would think he was asleep and leave him alone. He heard the door creak open, and the sound of sharp talons clacking against the wooden floor coming near him. He fought to control his breathing, as his heart rate quickened in terror. The noise stopped in front of him and he could feel the dark presence studying him closely. He prayed that it would think he was dead and leave him to rot wherever they were. A clawed hand came to slap him across the face and he cried out in pain as the sharp claws burrowed deep lines into his cheek. The hand grabbed him by the throat and he found himself struggling to breathe once more. “Do not think that you can fool me into discarding such a useful tool. I assure you that even if you were to die, I could drag your miserable body from the wretched void, and your ordeals would begin anew.” Malsvir let go of Mac’s throat with a shove and the former apple farmer groaned with pain. “I see that you are still aware of your surroundings after your lesson. Any weaker pony and their mind would have shattered from the stress and left them a drooling mess on the floor. This is good. It means I have chosen the proper servant.” Mac felt his restraints release his hooves and he collapsed onto the floor, afraid to look up at the shadowy figure towering over him. He listened as Malsvir moved back to the entrance of his prison cell. Something clattered onto the floor in front of him and he peeked an eye up to cautiously look. Two loaves of bread, and two plastic bottles of water lay on the dirty floor before him. Scrambling, he grabbed the food and water and brought it close to his chest. The dark dragon laughed at the pitiful display. “Enjoy your meal while you can, filthy slave. Two days have passed, and there shall be another five sunsets before the Lesson of Endurance has come to an end.” He slammed the cell door shut behind him and Mac listened as the door locked. He brought one of the loaves to his mouth and bit into it. It was stale, and almost as hard as a rock, but his new metal fangs bit into the bread and he swallowed heavily, chasing the bread with a long gulp of water. He did everything in his power to not remember the horrid visions he had been subject to for the past two day and focused on trying to get a taste from the stale bread. Once he has finished his meal he trudged over to a far corner of the room and curled up into a miserable ball. He closed his eyes tightly and imagined himself back in his room at the farm. He ignored the biting taste of metal in his mouth, and imagined lying next to his lovely Fluttershy. Fought to feel her tucked under his arm. He struggled to remove the images of her drenched in her own blood. He fell asleep with small tears crawling down his face from the corners of his eyes. It was going to be a long five days.