Safe.
Over the twenty-five years of my self-destructive bachelor life, I had learned one sure thing in life from when I was six: There’s no such thing as safe. Friends and/or allies could betray you; contraception spells aren’t fully fool-proof, and even in places like home, things like accidents, or a male member of your family penetrating your vaginas or buttholes whilst you sleep could happen.
Safe, for lack of better words, is a very relative term for me.
I felt safe when I’m with Nero, I felt safe when I’m in control of my—sex—life, and I felt safe when fellow Frontline agents covered my back. Felt, however, does not mean safe. Nero won’t be by my side 24/7, gods and other figures could take control of my life at any moment, and a fellow Frontline agent could simply slit my throat because I had fucked up, will fuck up, or secretly fucked an elf.
Still, as I was lugged on top of Merry Hearth, staring in my half-consciousness at the depressingly dark and twisted street, I couldn’t help but to hope to reach this ‘safe’ place. Pain embedded itself into my body like the face of my sister to my mind, moments before I plunged my dagger into her brainstem and the lack of Nero’s presence didn’t help.
Suddenly, I could feel my makeshift transport stopped to take a breath, panting in a controlled manner as she leaned to a concrete wall. “Celestia, you’re heavy,” she complained quietly.
I shifted slightly on her back, stopping immediately as I felt pain’s ugly and rotten cock shoved into my nerve system. “Put me down,” I groaned out hoarsely.
“Hmm?” Merry turned her head to me. “You sure? You look like a hydra decided to make you its chew toy,” there wasn’t much concern in her voice, only mild curiosity and a sprinkle of indifference. It was somewhat comfortable for me, in a morbid way.
I grunted in affirmative; ignoring the slight headache it caused me. “I’ll lean to you. That’d make this easier,”
She did a little shrug, before she shrugged my body off her back; unceremoniously dropping my battered body to the ground. I let out a small groan of pain, wincing as my broken leg hit the ground. Slowly I climbed back up to my three hooves; two as I hooked my left front hoof to Merry’s neck, leaning against her small body. “Lead the way,” I said tiredly.
She flinched a bit as my hoof finished hooking around her neck, giving a grunt before we returned back on the road, with me slightly leaning against her as I limped beside her. I noted slightly that she actually slowed her steps for me. How nice of her.
For the first time, as Merry guided me somewhere, I took note of my surroundings. We were walking on a typical suspicious and empty street; unlit lantern-posts rowed to a line on the sides of the road, large decrepit and tall bricked—industrial looking— buildings stood by the sides, their broken windows staring at us like a priest’s face as he undid his belt. I found it slightly disconcerting that the street shouldn’t be here, or rather, couldn’t be here as its size is impossible to fit into the small town of Martrossa.
Before this, I had a guess of what happened to the town and the townies, but what I was seeing cemented the whole idea.
Still, I couldn’t help but to fully confirm it. “Where are we?” After all, I had been wrong before; just like how I had been wrong that trees weren’t supposed to be fuckable before I accidentally stumbled upon an elf passionately fucking—and kissing— a tree in an open forest all the while shoving in-and-out a polished wooden staff into his ass.
The filly did a light shrug. “I dunno,” she muttered, staring at the far horizon of the street. “It’s just suddenly here when it—”her eye did a small twitch“—happened, and I found it on accident. It’s safe as long as you’re quiet.”
I hummed quietly at her expected answer, and as if on cue, one of the decrepit buildings’ windows suddenly dimly flickered alive, before it quickly died off. I could just barely make out a shadow of a dark pony-like creature, before it vanished within the dark itself.
“Don’t stare at it too long,” My young guide warned quietly, her body shivering for a moment. “Or they’ll follow your back.”
I turned my eyes away from the windows, and to my guide’s. “Did they ever do that to you?” I asked quietly, more out of my tiredness than curiosity.
Perhaps it was my tired blue eyes, or maybe it was the question, but regardless of the reason, she immediately looked away from my eyes, and back to the road. “Not me...” I heard her mutter softly, before she shook her head after a moment. “Let’s just move on.”
The conversation died like a forgotten doll under a pile of new toys from thereon as the makeshift cane guided me to this ‘Safe’ place. The dry pattering of our hooves were the only companion of the unnatural silence accompanying us, keeping me away from the waves of tiredness and ache that tried to forcefully seduce me to submission into the sweet temptation of rest as I would occasionally nod my head off and on.
Once in a while, I would see through the corner of my eyes the glaring windows flickering on and off, followed with the usual animated shadow of some pony-like figure behind those windows. I found it slightly worrying that as the further we went on the dark and bleak street, the windows would shake and rattle violently, and within each of those shakes, Merry’s pace would increase.
Suddenly, Merry skidded to a halt, before quickly turning into one of the dark alley on the left of the street, almost throwing me off her side, before she hooked a leg over my neck and pulled me with her. She exhaled a tired pant as she unhooked leg, resting her side to the concrete wall of another old decrepit building. “We’re here,” she gasped, drinking gulps of air. “And you’re heavy.”
I let out a small snort. “You’re the one who’s too small,” I muttered as I tried not to distribute too much weight on her, ignoring the glare that was sent and letting my eyes travel inside the dark alley— an impossibly large alleyway.
The walls were covered with drawings and etchings of some sort; colorful ponies, stars and symbols of moons and suns cluttered the grey wall. Further along, I saw a small dirty shack in the corner of the alley, appearing like it was about to kill itself just with a nudge on the right place, what with the rotted-looking woods. On the door was a curious thing, a fading obscure symbol painted on it; a dried green circle with the moon and the sun standing side by side inside of it, and on the edge of the circle, was a foreign and unrecognizable sentences of runic words that made my blood thrumming with the hunger of knowledge.
I shook my head slightly. Not the time. And turned to my recovering guide. “That the safe place you’re talking about?”
She let out a grunt of confirmation, before she moved from the wall, pulling me to the shack. Faintly, in the dark, I could see a rather fond smile playing in her lips. “The one and only safe place in here,”
The hinges creaked like a wailing banshee as she pushed it open with a push of her muzzle. Just like the rest of the places I had visited in this goddamned place, the claustrophobic room was as dark and small as a slime’s nether region. My eyes, thankfully adjusted to this angst-designed plane, were only able to discern an extinguished oil lantern on the middle of the room, with scents of old wood and a worrying amount of musky sweat traveled into my nose.
Ignoring the stabbing scent, Merry carefully laid me down to the wooden floor. “Wait a sec,” she said, before walking to the center of the room, and lifted the lantern with her left wing. I squinted my eyes as her muzzle reached inside her saddlebag, pulling out a larger-than-normal matchbox, and with a dexterity I would never gain, she opened it and pulled out a larger-than-normal matchstick, and somehow managed to ignite it with a flick to her other wing, and lit up the lantern.
Dimly, the lantern’s fire gloomily illuminated the claustrophobic room. I could make out a small rolled up bed in the far side of the room, three balls of yarn beside it, and a collection of familiar—Tangerine, Festive Carol, and two other foals— pony dolls. There was also another strange symbol covered the whole ceiling, like the same one I had seen on the door.
I closed my eyes as I caught the mysterious runes. A part of me, the Mage part, forever hungry and seeking for knowledge and power, wanted to investigate it, learn it, dissect it, and find whether or not I could use it. Another part of me, however, knew that that would be stupid. There was a reason why the words, ‘Don’t play with unknown magic’, were enforced by the kingdom, after all. And even though Rune magic is within my mastery, I knew it wasn’t exactly the time.
In a rare bout of control, and with the help of Merry’s pulling my bruised and battered body to hooves, I chose the latter. “Let’s get you to rest,” she muttered, and I spotted the rolled bed already unrolled within the safe distance of the lantern.
I shook my head. “No.” I said to her.
She stopped suddenly from dragging me to the bed. “What?”
“You go sleep there,” I weakly pointed at the bed. “Just put me there next to the wall. I’ll rest there.”
She adorably furrowed her brows in confusion. “But you’re—“
“No buts.” I quickly cut her off. “Just put me there,” I pointed at the wall opposite of where she had placed her rolled bed.
By the look of her eye, she was about to argue. Which was slightly touching, really, if not for the gods know what had happened on the bed; especially when I could smell the thick musky scent emanating out from the damn bed. And from the dolls, I noted with dread as I took another sniff.
However, something changed in her eye, and a blush found its way to her cheeks as I saw her sniff the air. “Okay.” She squeaked, a stark change from her previous cold demeanor, the blush on her face doubled as she hurriedly rushed, and carefully leaned me to the wall I had pointed before.
There was an uncomfortable silence as she moved away from me, scuttling to the other side of the room—where the bed was placed. Fidgeting and squirming in place, she undid the straps and saddlebag over her back, clinking loudly as they hit the floor. Immediately, she took the sheathed sword away—she’s smart, at least— from the mess with her teeth and grabbed the dolls with her wing, before stepping onto the musky bed.
Putting the sword next to the thin bed, she made her own self comfortable on it, hugging the dolls like a wizard would to his staff, and positioning herself in such a way that her eye was staring at mine, and mine staring at hers as I tried to ignore the faint blush that formed on her cheeks as she sniffed at the air.
Thankfully, I was still the champion of staring contest as she closed her lone eye. “My name’s Merry Hearth,” she suddenly introduced herself. There was something in her voice that made me curious—and somewhat suspicious of something.
“Call me Psyche,” I responded, before wincing as a sudden shot of pain came from my forehead and to the corners of my body, like a horny snake-woman in mating season, but with less pleasure and with more pain. My vision blurred momentarily, and I pushed down the sudden urge to puke as I leaned the back of my head to the wall with a gentle thud and closed my eyes.
Whether Merry noticed my pain or not was up to the jury as she shot me another question, “You’re from the outside, right?” There was that certain giddiness in her voice that reminded me a lot of the fake Festive’s response after I told her I was sent from Celestia.
I was about to nod for her answer, before I paused, and reconsidered. Perhaps. I let out a small after a small pause ‘Hmm’ which could be translated into a ‘Yes’, and answered, “Princess Celestia sent me here to here.”
“What!?” There was a loud thud as I imagined Merry jumping to her hooves, followed by a closing rapid, yet as loud thuds, until I could feel her head inches away from mine, her short warm breaths reaching to my muzzle. “You’re one of the Royal Guard?”
Gingerly, I cracked an eye open, and I saw her face leveled at me, her blue eye, a thing filled with a new hope born out of the cage of despair, shone brightly upon me. Morbidly, I thought of how easy it would be to just kill her right then and there. Put my hoof under her chin, something that would probably look like a friendly gesture, and slid a spike of ice through her head.
I blinked, quickly burning that thought right away, and I realized in an internally mild panic, that I needed Nero right now. Except I couldn’t. Not with my current condition. Weakly, I nodded to Merry’s eager question, letting out a grunt of affirmation.
If I had thought—of which I hadn’t— that Merry couldn’t look more hopeful or happier, I would’ve been unsurprisingly surprised. Her grin quivered and stretched to a point that would make the Pink Devil of Ponyville nod in approval as she put her front legs on the wall beside my head, and her muzzle practically pressed against mine; there were also tears, I noticed, forming on the corner of her eyes.
Briefly, I pondered whether the Royal Guards were actually capable enough that they would deserve this much reputation and I was underestimating them, or that they’re automatically thought as so because they’re basically Celestia’s metaphorical hooves, regardless of whether they’re capable or not. Until I saw them in the field, I tend to opt for the latter possibility.
“T-then you know how to get out, r-right?” She stuttered, voice quivering in desperate hope.
I thought about that for a short moment. “I think.” I answered her truthfully.
“W-well then,” she exclaimed happily, pushing herself away from the wall and turning around to her equipments. “What are we waiting for?!”
I shot my head forward before she could move too far; biting onto her tail and forcefully pulled her back. She yelped and jumped in surprise, “Hey, what’s the big idea?!”
I spat her tail away, ignoring her scowl as she turned to me. “We rest first.” I growled out, spitting strands of hair out of my mouth.
“B-but we’re—“There was a loud growling sound from her stomach, cutting her words like a sharp blade. She froze for a moment, before stiffly looked down with a blush. “I was going to look for food before I found you.” I heard her grumble as her legs buckled to the floor.
I sighed, leaning my head back to the wall as I rummaged blindly through my bag. “You’re lucky I packed food,” I told her—forgoing the fact that I stole said food— and my savior’s ears perked up almost immediately.
I didn’t know how much foods I took from that empty market, but I pulled enough for the little mare. Two carrots and a green pear rolled on the wooden floor towards Merry, stopping as it hit her nose softly.
Looking up from the floor, I saw her eyes widened—and somehow glimmered— as it caught view of the foods. And just like an Orc after forty days of fasting, she devoured the food mercilessly—and messily—, more merciless than Festive’s and the foals’ reaction after I gave them the food.
In the back of my mind, I pondered if the group of shapeshifters would act their hungerness like that, then what about Merry?
I shook those thoughts away. Sympathy and empathy were more of Lily’s thing—and other normal people, I suppose.
It didn’t take long before the food were chomped and flushed into the deep bowels of Merry’s belly, where biology will take its course. The little mare herself—sitting on her haunches— looked happy with herself; closed eye and a satisfied grin, her face was the very definition of bliss as she let out a sigh of relief.
“Stuffed yourself enough?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She nodded. “Yup.”
I smiled—more like smirked— and nodded to myself. “Good. Now how about we get some rest?”
Almost immediately, all hints of bliss and satisfaction vanished from her face as she snapped her head to me, a scowl on her face as her good eye narrowed at me. “No. We’re going now!”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I could barely move myself.” I pointed out, waving my good hoof to my body.
“But I—“
“I also won’t tell you how to escape from this hellhole,” I cut her off, giving a smirk as she faltered immediately.
A stink eye was sent to me, softened as it coursed to my suck-ass equine body. “Fine.” She groaned, huffing as she turned back to her bed, making herself comfortable with her scented dolls. “But we’re getting out of here after I wake up, okay?”
I was about to point out that I would certainly not recover that fast. But what was the point? Time was the essence, after all. So I kept my mouth shut, and let the one-eyed mare slipped into her slumber, leaving me alone, able to do nasty stuffs to her little, soft and warm body.
I clenched my eyes shut, and burned that thought away like a mage on a stake. Letting out a silent huff as I reached into my bag once again, this time a medium-sized vial of red liquid was balanced on my hoof. How my hooves could do that, I wouldn’t know.
I hesitated as I stared at the rippling red liquid. I was quickly losing a lot of potions in the last few days I was in this godsdamned world; quicker than I would normally do. Letting out a sigh, and making a mental note to try to remember the recipe of making a health potion, I plucked the cork with my jaws, spat it out, and let the liquid flow down into my gullets.
Placing the vial on the floor, and leaned my head to the wall as the potion did its work. I took a quick glance at the small, breathing, and snoring body across of the room, before I closed my eyes, and let Lady Sleep pull me into her ample bosoms.
()_()_()
It was Merry’s loud whimpering that woke me up in my sleep. It wasn’t the nightmare involving me fucking the bleeding, screaming, struggling, and decaying corpse of Lily, forcing the dead-eyed Nagini into her throat and leaning down to cover her body with my saliva. Nor was it the changing scene of me laughing and laughing like a madman in a field of red, tearing the still, but alive, body of Nero with my bare hands. It was, instead, the whimpering of a child that pulled me out of that nightmare. And I was thankful for it.
I cracked my eyes open, briefly noting my fur matted in sweat. I could see her on the bed thanks to the still alight lantern oil. Her face screwed in pained and terrified expression as she tossed about, crying and whimpering from the nightmare haunting her mind, her small dolls strewn far away from the bed; a thick scent of her drenched fur wafted into my nose, and for a brief moment, I heard Lily’s fearful whimper from far ago, when I was still a teenager, and when she was still alive.
I shook my head, and Merry’s whimper took over Lily’s haunting whimper. Letting out a soft sigh, I pushed myself off the ground. The limp was still there, burning and flaring every time I pressed it the wrong way, but at least I didn’t feel like having two cocks jammed into my head.
I paused as I stood on three hooves, leaning my side against the wall as I gazed at the tossing filly. Perhaps it was because she reminded me so of little Lily, or perhaps I was still tired and wanted to sleep, but in the end, I slowly limped my way to her, careful as not to touch the floor with my limb, and stepped over the ball of straps, belts and saddlebag.
As I stood over her side, I could see the tears leaking from her eye, her ears splayed back as she settled on her back, her wings and legs twitched suddenly, as if they tried to move. I stood there for a moment, pondering on what I was going to do, before I carefully settled on my haunches.
My hoof settled on her head, and her limbs twitched collectively. I sighed, a lullaby long-unsung found its way into my throat as I hummed it along, my hoof brushing soothingly along her soft mane. I closed my eyes, and a smile flowed into my facade. There was something nostalgic and relaxing of doing this.
Soon enough, I could feel Merry calming, her whimper fading into silence and her heart pace slowed considerably. Opening my eyes, there was a smile on her face, something that looked so brittle for someone young as her. She shifted on her bed, and I almost jumped when I found her hooves curled around mine, using it as an improvised pillow.
I blinked, before snorting silently in amusement. Shaking my head, I let out a sigh, before continuing on humming that oh-so-nostalgic lullaby. I tilted my head upwards, and I blinked again. There was that mysterious runes. It was strange, something I had never seen before. It wasn’t blocky or smooth, like the normal runes I was taught, nor was it cursive like that ones from the east or choppy like the ancient runes. It was... something of a mix. I couldn’t even understand what that single, circular yet somehow blocky rune meant. Nor why the sun-like rune was there for.
I memorized the runes into my memory as detailed as my mind could do. Every curve, every stroke, every line, every shape, I memorized them. Were I had my hands, I would’ve probably simply draw it on a piece of paper, but as it was, something outside my power—a demon, to be precise— once again conspired against my hunger for knowledge.
Something warm and wet dropped onto my captured hoof. Looking down, I found drool leaking from the corner of Merry’s mouth, her smile widened slightly for whatever dream she had. I sighed in annoyance, pushing the urge to pinch my nose, since I would probably just hurt myself with my hoof.
And the night passed on like that. The silence, occasionally broken by Merry’s incomprehensible mumblings, was my only companion as I settled myself into a more comfortable position, gently laying my other hoof over Merry’s mane, brushing it just like the way I had used to with Lily’s. Somewhere in the night, I let my eyes close, and let myself return into Lady Sleep’s sweet embrace.
None of the nightmares welcomed me.
()_()_()
‘Morning’, as it was—a rather relative term in this Limbo—, came to me with the sudden jerking movement of something on my almost-dead and numb hoof. I opened my eyes, staring at the rotten looking ceiling; for some reason, I felt warm covering all over my body, and seeing to my right, I quickly knew why it was so.
Merry’s lone blue eye, wide as an Orc’s gaping asshole, stared at my undamaged eyes; face only inches away from mine. Her tiny legs, fore and hind, were all over my barrel, her warm and rapidly beating chest pressed against mine, effectively turning me into her personal living body pillow. A part of me, stuck in the past, briefly mused that my current predicament was quite similar on how Lily had cuddled me up like her doll.
Red flowed onto Merry’s cheeks, so much so in fact, I was worried she would burst her head off and sprayed me with her blood. Carefully, I leaned my neck away from her, for I knew the danger of a volatile teenager, especially when it’s female. I gave her an easy smile, my free hoof reaching to her nearest hoof—the one frozen on my side.
Upon the touch, her eyes snapped back to focus. She let out a loud, embarrassed squeak as she quickly disentangled herself from me, jumping away across the room with the help of her wings. “W-what did you do to me!?” She stammered angrily, her eye widened as she paused; it flickered to the blade left nearby the crumpled bed.
I looked at her dryly, the smile on my face slipping slightly now that I wasn’t in a close contact with a volatile, hormonal, female teenager. “I should be the one asking you,” I pointed out, before yawning as I shifted my hooves until I was sitting on my haunches, facing at the angry teenager. “And for your information, you were having a nightmare. I only did what was proper,”
She flared her nose angrily. “And that’s using my body as your body pillow?!”
I sighed; my hoof went up to pinch my nose, paused, and quickly put it down as I remembered I had hooves now. I didn’t want to inflict myself with injury without a good reason. Gods know I had more than enough.
“If I remember correctly, you were the one who used me as a body pillow.” I told her in a bemused manner. “And no, I didn’t use you as my body pillow. Perhaps if you’re older,”
She glared at me in an adorable pouty way that would melt people’s heart. And rape her in a dark alley until she’s dead for a certain group of people that should be killed over and over. Letting out a huff, Merry planted her rumps on the floor, and mumbled something incomprehensible.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said ‘thank you’,” she elaborated, barely passing a mumble, but it was heard. I raised an eyebrow, something that made her to seemingly sigh, “I didn’t wake up feeling horrible, covered in sweat. And last night, I didn’t feel a nightmare.” She paused.”Or at least, it wasn’t as long and horrible as it usually is. That’s why I want to thank you. And I’m also sorry for overreacting.” She added that last part as an afterthought.
I shrugged my shoulders at her answer. “It’s fine.” I stood up to my hooves, and limped to her side.
Her eye flickered to my limping leg. “Is your leg going to be fine?” There was a worried—and dare I say fearful— tone in her voice as she asked.
I pondered about that as I sat beside her. There was a possibility that I was going to have a limp, unless there’s a magic potion in Equestria that could magically mend bones, or a mage that could something similar. After all, there’s a chance that the potion I had drunk the last night had somehow became the cause of the limp, worsening it by fixing it the wrong way.
Of course, that was only considering that I wouldn’t be turned to human after I escaped this place—and killed the demon, along the way. Which I doubt it wouldn’t happen; I’d like to believe that the only reason why I was a pony was because of the place I was in, or the one running behind it. Then again, there’s a chance —a rather big one— that the limp would still be there even after I was turned back into a human. After all, I still had my scars on my white fur hidden under my robe.
I sighed; hoof rummaging into my bag, before I produced a few veggies and fruits for breakfast. “Hopefully,” I answered her after a pause, taking a bite of the still fresh apple.
She shot me a worried look, her wings fluttered nervously, before using her left one to pick up the carrot from the floor, and munched on it in that kind of silence, that was comfortable, yet at the same time, not. That kind of feeling when a person stumbled upon a woman being fucked by a group of men in a dark alley, but instead of helping or joining, that person decided to simply enjoy the view.
“So what are we going to do?” Merry decided to break the silence, glancing at me as I swallowed the apple’s core and took a carrot from the floor.
I took a bite of the carrot, chewing the crunchy carrot before swallowing it. “Do you know a filly named Red Field?”
Her face screwed. “Everpony in here knows, no,” she shook her head sadly, “knew about her. ‘The town’s broken foal’, I think she was called since... what happened to Ticking Clock.” She released a sigh, looking at me with something between guilt and anger—self anger, perhaps. “I don’t know much about her.”
Briefly, I mused at Red Field’s title, ‘Broken Foal’. It couldn’t be any more farther than the truth, and perhaps it’s a bit too much fitting for someone with a name like hers.
“Why are you asking about her, anyway?”
I shrugged. For a brief moment, I thought of simply giving her a look of Red Field’s tragic diary. For a brief moment, I thought of simply let the sleeping dogs die. No point to sully little Red Field’s name. Then I realized that I was too lazy to make up an excuse and pulled Red Field’s diary off my bag, before tossing it to Merry.
Her eye widened considerably as it fell to the book’s cover; the one with the ‘Red Field’s Diary!’ written on top of it.”Is this...” she picked up the dusty book, examining its cover, before opening it.
There were plenty of words that could be used to describe the myriads of emotions on her face as she flipped page after page. The same thing that had happened with Not-Carol when I let her read Red Field’s diary. First it was a small bitter smile, almost guilty-like, and then it turned upside-down into a smile, her face paled in aghast, and on some occasion, a silent gasp of horror would be elicited from her as she went further by the book.
She almost stopped reading the reading, closing her eyes, tears visible from the edge of her eye. She had looked at me, her mouth quivering as she mouthed a silent question. “Why?”
And she would’ve quitted if I didn’t nod my head to the book on her hooves. “Read it.” I had said, perhaps a bit sternly than I had supposed to mean.
Silently, she continued to read the diary. There was something different between her reaction and Not-Carol’s. Not the reaction itself, but the way they reacted. Not-Carol seemed to be more artificial now that I watched Merry’s face. I pondered, if only briefly, that I was getting rusty in studying people’s faces, and quickly dismissed that idea.
Then as Merry reached to the last page, all of that emotion vanished. That guilt, that fear, that sadness, and that sympathy. Gone. Her face was blank, the pale on her fur worsened, and I saw rage growing in her eye.
The book sailed to the other side of the room as the girl threw it, letting out a loud smacking sound as it slapped the wall. Her lips contorted to a snarl, and the tears, previously produced out of guilt, turned into spiteful anger as she slammed the floor with her hoof. “Why?!” She shouted angrily, her hoof slammed the floor again. “Why!?” she punched the floor again, “Why!?” again, “Why!?” and again, “Why!?” and again; each hit quicker and harder with her repetitions of ‘Why’s’.
And just like a woman peaking into her climax, she released a loud pained cry. “Why!?” Her hoof slammed down to the floor, already marred with cracks by Merry’s abusive hoof, and this time, her hoof stayed on the ground.
There was only silence as her rage bled away from her, accompanied only by her heavy breathing. All that changed as she sobbed, her boy shook as tears dropped from her eye, her teeth gritted in frustration. “Why?” She repeated pitifully.
I sighed, my hoof reaching over to her body and I pulled her into a hug. “It’s all right. Just cry it all out,” I said, making calming circular motions on her back. “It’s all right.”
“It-it’s just unfair,” came her muffled reply.”J-just because that happened to her, it doesn’t justify her wish!” Her sobs went louder as she pressed herself into my shoulder. “Why would she wish that?”
The answer was simpler than what she had probably cooked up in her mind. Red Field was a strong girl, stronger than what the people gave her credits. But in the end, she was still only a child facing something that any people shouldn’t. And a child is easier to break than most people.
My other hoof reached to her scalp, massaging and brushing her mane to calm her down. “Most of the times, Merry, when ponies are pushed to the corner, they’ll do irrational things to save themselves.” Even if, in the end, it didn’t save Red Field.
A hiccup escaped her, and the silence remained there to stay with Merry continuing to use my fur as her personal handkerchief.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, which probably was, Merry pulled her face away from my fur. Her eyes puffed up red, her cheeks wet from her own tears, and my shoulder wet from Merry’s snots and tears.
“You’re done?”
She looked up from my shoulder and up to me, a weak sheepish smile on her face. “Sorry,” she looked down to her thighs, her voice dry and cracking from all the shouting she did as she continued, “And thank you for that. I needed it.”
“No worries.” I assured her, climbing carefully up to my hooves. I sighed. “But now, since you don’t know where Red Field’s house is, do you have any idea how to get there?”
She chewed her lips as she gazed at Red Field’s diary. “Well, I think I have an idea,” she turned her eye to me. “Where did you find the diary?”
“In her house,” I answered immediately. “I think.” At her incredulous look, I simply shrugged. “I just found in it some random house near the town’s gate.” I paused for a moment, remembering the filly I saw afterwards, before I shook my head. “But now that I think about it, it’s not Red Field’s house, what with the filly—“’Melly”—I saw afterwards.”
She gave me an annoyed glare with her one eye. “You’re not very good at your job, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Better than those two dead guards,”
She flinched at the mention of the skeletonized guards, looking away from me and took a deep shuddering breath. “Anyway,” she said, standing up to her hooves, looking at me again. “Like I told you before, I don’t know much about Red Field, but I know about Clockwork. Everypony in this town do and almost everypony in this town worked for him. Even my dad.” She blinked, taking a deep breath, before continuing, “Point is,” she pointed at the diary, “the diary said that Red Field’s father worked for Clockwork as well,”
I nodded at her plan, a smile forming on my face, already understanding where her line of thought went. “So we could visit Clockwork’s Workshop, and look for the information about Red Field’s dad, which would definitely tell us Red Field’s home address.” Merry’s smile was bright as she nodded in agreement. “And you know where Clockwork’s workshop is, right?”
“I do,” she acknowledged. “It’s in the town’s famous clocktower.”
My mind did a sudden screeching halt as I froze in my spot. I inhaled a deep amount of air, and exhaled them slowly through my barred teeth. “It can’t possibly be any easier, now can it?”
Merry stepped beside me. “What’s wrong?” Her face showed worry as she asked.
Aside from going into what could possibly the most dangerous place in here? “Nothing.” I replied, shaking my head with slight resignation. “Just go gather your equipments first.”
She walked to her pile of equipments, giving a shrug as she did so, mounting her saddlebag over her bag, locking the leather-looking-straps over her, and her short sword secured on her side. She extinguished the oil lamp before she walked to me, already waiting for her by the door, since really, I only needed my bag.
I leaned forward, and with my jaws, swung the door open. I stepped to the side of the door, allowing Merry passage. “Guide the way,”
She gave me a weird look, and as realization dawned on her, she let out a weak embarrassed chuckle, passing door’s threshold. I stepped into outside, closing the door behind me, and followed Merry’s tail as she guided me into what could be my deathbed.
Wait.
I stopped suddenly, my head shot up at the dark bleak skies. Darker, I noted, than the last time I saw them. I heard Merry’s hooves stopping, a question from her as she approached me. I looked to the left, then to the right. The walls were still there, and we were still in the same dark alley.
Merry was in front of me, worried questions reflected by her lone eye. An unpleasant chill ran to my bone.
I stared back at her, my blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do you know where the clock tower from here?”
Merry took a step back, and I took step forward. Her eye, I noticed, were wide with terror. “What are you?” No, that was the wrong question. My mind was running a mile per second. Something was very wrong with Merry. Everything had been wrong since I had been forced into this Limbo of some sort. But the one that was very wrong to me was in front of me.
I looked back, and the shack I had used for last night was gone. Instead, there was only an empty spot of earth, and nothing else.
Then the question came suddenly to me, and my eyes widened in dread. I stared back at Merry’s terrified eye.
“Are you even real?”