GENERAL RAYFORD sat in his study, nursing a glass of hard cider as he read one of the many novels stocked amongst the shelves. A crackling fire in the room’s fireplace was his only company as he flicked through the pages with a talon.
There was a sudden loud banging, magically amplified so that it could be heard anywhere in the great mansion. The sound roused the General from the book, eyes darting up with curiosity. He made to call Cossack, but quickly remembered that the pony was dead. He frowned at that, swirling his glass thoughtfully as he gazed into it. Cossack had been of great help over the years, quiet and obedient and massive. It would be a trial in itself to get ahold of another specimen like him.
Rayford sighed and sipped at his drink. Burst Rate would have been an excellent choice, he was certain, had they only seen eye to eye. Perhaps he was not so large as Cossack, but he was only a unicorn and that in itself brought on its own perks.
But there was no point in crying over spilt blood, the General knew. Burst Rate had chosen death, he only hoped that the body might wash up somewhere. That pony’s head would be a fine piece...provided the crabs didn’t take too much of it beforehand.
Standing from the chair, he drew his thoughts to the present, wondering who might be at his door. He had sent out Fang to scan the coasts for any sign of Burst Rate; he had found nothing yesterday, but the General hoped that today would yield better results.
“Buddy, poluchit' dver',” he called, setting aside drink and book as he stood. It hardly mattered that Buddy was nowhere near, enchantments in the mansion would see to it the diamond dog heard.
The General’s claws clacked over the tile of the hallway as he stepped from his study, moving to greet whoever was at the door. It might be difficult to deal with any new prey with Cossack and two of his dogs dead, but he was sure he could handle it.
Buddy had only just reached the door by the time the General stepped into the final hallway leading to it. Favoring his casted foreleg, Buddy pulled the door open with his maw. Fang stood in the doorway, sopping wet with something across his back, orange and green in color. The General sped up his pace, grin splitting his beak.
“Fang, drop it,” the General ordered in Stalliyi.
Fang shrugged and deposited the orange and green body on the marble.
The General eyed the body over, wet and battered with a multitude of injuries, yet salvageable. He turned his eyes to the dogs, who awaited in silence. He would need his cutting implements and preservation tools, and quickly if he wanted to...
The body gave a single cough, startling the General into silence.
“General, the pony is still…” Fang began.
Burst Rate’s eyes fluttered and opened, “I win,” he rasped from the floor, weakly glaring up at the General.
General Rayford grinned…
~ ~ ~ ~ < \/ /\ \/ > ~ ~ ~ ~
...Time passed for Burst Rate at a fevered pace of frenetic sensations. The General hovered over him, grin as wide as a gorge. A massive paw wiped his feverish brow with a damp cloth. Warm broth spilled down his throat, filling his weak body with renewed vigor.
There were times he was cold despite the large fire and heavy blankets, others when he was hot beyond measure, others where sweat bathed him while he shivered and managed to keep nothing down, not even the bile.
It was all some wild dream, he swore, induced by the madness of some foul sickness that had taken him. Yet he could not awaken from it, could not control it, could do nothing but tag along for the ride.
“Soon, Mister Rate. Soon,” a hushed voice hissed in his ear…
~ ~ ~ ~ < \/ /\ \/ > ~ ~ ~ ~
...Burst Rate awoke with a gasp, jolting upright in a great, big bed large enough for two or more ponies to sleep comfortably and made of a fine, soft silk. His eyes gazed over the room: the barred window, a roaring fireplace, and his camera on the bedside nightstand.
It was no dream, he realized.
His body was sore despite the quality of the bed, aching and cramping as he flung off the sheets and rolled off. His forelegs nearly collapsed out from under him as he hit the floor, making him stumble awkwardly on the wooden tiles.
Trotting slowly to the bathroom, he looked over himself. Cuts and scratches adorned his body with thick, white bandages as his only clothing. Pushing through the bathroom door, he halted as he spotted himself in the mirror.
His eyes were wild with great purplish splotches telling of a lack of sleep. Bandages wrapped across the side of his face that the General had slashed, hiding what he assumed would be grievous scars. His mane was in a wild disarray, clean like the rest of him, but a mess of tangles and knots.
A keavy key turned in the lock on his door. Burst turned quickly, nearly slipping on the tiles as the door opened on silent hinges.
Fang stepped into the room, holding a silver platter in one massive forepaw. He halted, growling and sniffing as he noted the empty bed, then turned to the bathroom where Burst met his gaze.
For a moment there was a standstill, Pony and Diamond Dog glaring at each other with curled lips and bared teeth, but then Fang broke off. He moved to the bed, setting down the platter before turning to leave.
“Pony to eat,” Fang growled, turning as he passed through the door, “wait.”
The door slammed shut and was locked.
Trotting carefully towards the bed, keeping an eye on the door, Burst made his way back to the bed. A thick, steaming bowl of broth awaited him, the delightful aroma making Burst’s stomach gurgle.
He downed it quickly, stomach grumbling for something more solid. He didn’t have to wait long before again before Fang reappeared with his curled lip snarling.
Gesturing with a forepaw, he gave a simple command, “Pony to come. To General...”
~ ~ ~ ~ < \/ /\ \/ > ~ ~ ~ ~
…“Ah, my guest awakens!” General Rayford exclaimed merrily as Burst was escorted into the dining room by Fang. The dog slunk off to a corner, settling down to watch the pony, “I do apologize for having started without you,” the General apologized, gesturing to his half-finished plate of fancily prepared pancakes, “but I’d imagine you’d remain bedridden a few days more.”
Burst Rate’s only reply was a growl as he sat opposite the grinning griffon. As with before, a single dish and mug of coffee sat before him.
“I never did find out how you took your coffee, Mister Rate,” the General commented, eyes flicking to the steamy mug set before the pony.
“Black is fine,” Burst replied coldly. He eyed his silverware momentarily, “What happens now?”
The General finished chewing and set down his fork, “Now?” he inquired, dapping at his beak with a napkin.
“Do not bucking toy with me, General!” Burst rate snapped, slamming both hooves down on the table. Fang growled menacingly from the corner as Burst leaned towards the griffon, “I beat you! You don’t get to toy with me any longer!” his plate and silverware rattled as he smashed a hoof down on the table, “You will release me.”
The General’s cheer grew cold, a menacing air filling him as he slowly set the dirtied napkin aside. A chill filled Burst’s gut, but he refused to back down as the General let his eyes bore into the pony for a few, very long, seconds.
When the griffon spoke, the words left him at a slow pace, a quiet menace about them, “And what will you do when I release you?”
Burn this place to the ground, Burst didn’t say, letting his silence be the only answer.
“Now how can I let you go?” the General replied, sitting back comfortably. He let his eyes roll over the pony for a moment, gesturing leisurely with a claw, “Look at you. You are still a beast at bay, Mister Rate,” a grin split his beak, one that made Burst flinch back a bit as it seemed to cut him down a notch, “You’re so very much like me, now. Like Cossack, like my dogs.”
“You’re wrong, General,” Burst spat back, “I killed Cossack, I killed two of your dogs,” he glanced over at Fang, who let out a low growl, “beat the other two.”
“You did,” the General agreed with a curt nod, “and now you may rise to take their place. Rise to hunt at my side as Cossack did. You have been hunted and yet live! Now rise to join the hunters and thrive!”
“Never,” Burst Rate swore.
The General was, for once, silent. The two locked gazes for a few moments before the General turned back to his food as if nothing had happened. Burst glared on as the griffon quickly finished with a contented sigh. Then to turned to Fang, giving a quick order in Stalliyi.
“Da, General” Fang growled, glaring at Burst as he left the room. The door locked behind him.
“My dogs shall not intervene,” the General grinned, “not until we have a victor among us.”
Burst Rate stepped away from the table, watching as the General moved briskly to a far wall. A set of spears with differing lengths and points were mounted upon a rack, the General selected one and turned, grinning.
“I shall allow you a weapon, to help even the odds,” the General said. He cocked back his arm and threw with a cry of, “Catch!”
Burst flinched, throwing out his magic to grab the spear from the air, bringing it to him. Four metal prongs stuck from its head.
“A fitting replacement for the one you lost,” the General said, waiting, “Shall we begin?”
Burst’s lip curled back in a snarl as he brought the weapon to bear.
The General grinned.
With a flap of his wings, the General took to the air, rushing towards and to Burst’s side. Burst turned to meet him, jabbing out quickly. The General ducked and darted around the point, trying to get inside its reach. Burst hopped to the side, barely dodging a slash towards his ribs and swinging the butt end of the spear into the General’s gut.
The griffon darted away, laughing as he put some distance between them.
“Even wounded, he still may fight!” the General cheered, eyes wide with delight.
Burst rushed after the General, keeping his spear close so as not to lose it again.
The General swooped up, darting about midair and diving down towards Burst with talons outstretched. Burst leaped to one side, jabbing up with the spear. Yet hot pain blasted across his back as one of the griffon’s talons sliced across his back as the General predicted the move. Droplets of red splashed through the air as the General rushed off again.
“Yet, perhaps his tactics require some work?” the General wondered aloud. He eyed the bright, red blood on his claw. In an instant he was corkscrewing downwards for another attack.
How about, this, then, General!? Burst let loose a snarl, jabbing upwards with his spear, eyes darting for only a moment to the table. The General dodged again past the spear, but took Burst’s plate of pancakes to his face.
The porcelain shattered against the side of the General’s face, splattering him with uneaten food. A startled caw escaped him as he pulled a hasty retreat. Burst bloodied his spear with a quick jab to one of the General’s hind legs.
“And yet again he proves more than meager game!” the General’s grin faltered now as he took a moment to wipe at his face with a claw. Small specks of blood appeared where the porcelain shards had bitten him, “yet he is still no more than meat!”
The General came in low, swatting at Burst’s spear with one set of talons and slashing at his throat with another. Burst ducked under the attack, feeling his mane parting atop his head before headbutting upwards into the General’s gut, swinging his spear like an oversized baton.
His horn didn’t quite penetrate the griffon’s hide, but the haft of his spear connected solidly and the General smashed into Burst Rate’s chair. With a shout, he jabbed down toward’s the griffon’s chest, but the General caught the pronged tip with his wing.
The multi-pointed head easily penetrated the General’s wing, but a jerk of the appendage nearly tore it from Burst’s magical grasp. The General took the opening, slashing across Burst’s face.
Bandages tore loose as Burst turned his head to the side, old wounds reopening with new ones as the General’s talons met his flesh. He retreated rapidly, pulling the spear free as he blinked away blood.
The General’s talons slashed out again and Burst let loose a cry as flesh parted across his left knee, nearly dropping him to the ground. His spear skimmed the General’s shoulder, the griffon batting it away and striking again. Yet Burst’s magic brought his chair between them and the General’s talons only bit into wood.
“He’s failing!” the General cried out with glee.
“Buck you!” Burst spat back, smacking the General with the head of his spear. The General accepted the blow and caught the weapon, grinning. With a grunt, Burst blasted the chair at him, knocking him back.
The General wrenched the spear away as he was bowled over, sending it clattering away.
Wasting no time, Burst chased after the weapon, grabbing it in his magic and bringing it close as he turned...and took a chair upside the head, sending him sprawling. The spear clattered away once more.
Burst could only blink, stunned as the General tossed his impromptu weapon away, standing. His hooves scrabbled numbly as the General grabbed his tail and dragged him close, grinning all the way.
Fumbling with his magic, Burst grabbed the spear and threw it at the General, points first. The General only had to duck, letting it sail away and clatter harmlessly to the floor.
The General slashed across Burst’s chest and he screamed as talons scraped across bone. Blood poured quickly from the wound as the General’s talons clamped tight against his throat.
The world spun and pain exploded across Burst’s face as he was flung, headfirst into the wall. He slumped to the ground, trying to get his worthless hooves to work. He merely managed to roll himself over, coming face to face with General Rayford, spear points ready to jab into his throat.
Above him, the hissing Hydra’s head stared down at them from the wall. A frantic idea sprouted in Burst’s head. His horn ignited as he grabbed the head, tugging at it. It moved just enough that he was able to spot the knotted ropes tying it to the wall. His immediately grabbed at them with his magic, tearing at them.
“I wanted the most dangerous game, mister Rate,” the General laughed, relishing the moment as he stared down at the pony, “and you have not disappointed!”
Keep him talking, just a little more! Burst thought, gritting his teeth as he continued to work his magic on the straps, keeping up the hydra’s mounted head. Another two came undone, one left.
“Yet you never were a match for me. My dogs, Cossack, but never me, Mister Rate, never me!” he cocked back the spear, ready to thrust.
“You’re wrong about me, General,” Burst Rate said, the words coming unbidden from him, “I told you what I considered to be the most dangerous game! On the night we first met! Do you remember what I said?”
“Oh?” the General asked, grinning as if he considered some final jest, “No, mister Rate, I do not. Do tell. What do you think is the most dangerous game?!”
The final knot unraveled. Burst threw his magic around the massive head, shoving it away from the wall just enough. The General had only time to look up, his jaw dropping as the hydra head smashed down onto him with a crunch of bone.
“Hydras,” said Burst Rate, letting out a breath of relief.
Dark, black blood flowed out from under the mounted head, trickling outwards towards Burst Rate. He shifted slightly as the General’s blood met his own growing puddle, trying to stand. Yet pain flared and he was powerless against it, collapsing back down.
He tried yet again, but his head swam and he felt his hooves slip from under him, landing him once again on the ground. He lay there for a while, his wounds numbing. His teeth chattered, as a coldness began to ensnare him. Burst tried moving himself closer to the fireplace, but his hooves moved feebly about him and he quickly ceased. Besides, he was rather tired...deathly tired.
He would rest here awhile, he decided. The pool of blood growing about him was actually rather warm, almost like a soft blanket or a warm bath and all around him the world was growing dark and soundless.
He had never slept better, Burst Rate decided.