//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 
// Story: Blood Curse Hunters 
// by Rarity Belle 
//------------------------------//

Trixie wandered through the dark corridors of the castle. She had heeded the words of her mistress. Rarity wants to get a cup of blood, she would have a cup of blood. Even though Rarity had said that she wouldn’t consume from Trixie herself, the thoughts of just setting the knife to her throat or wrist and cut herself open to feed the vampony continued to linger. The thoughts never came to reality as the mental link with Rarity prevented it from happening. Her mistress knew what she had planned all along. It angered Trixie perhaps more than it should have.

A sliver of darkness shrouded her vision from that moment. All of her reasonable thinking would have disappeared while her magic began to coat her horn. The aura created the light among the darkness while she began to descend from the stairs. Trixie would have gone down to the one place where she knew the prisoners resided. A place that hadn’t been sealed by either Shiva or Rarity. Matter of fact, Rarity was the one who had found the prison and filled it with prisoners that could serve as one of her meals.

Trixie growled a little bit prior her hoof touching the freezing stone. The deeper she came in the castle, the colder it always became. There was no source of light along the way, just her with her magic to shine through. And when alone in the dark, ponies were rather subjective to things that weren’t there. So among the dark, wandering in her own through the dark, Trixie thought to have heard something. She could have sworn that another set of hooves made its way behind her. With one quick turn did she face the other way.

The hum of her powers became only greater while the area of effect turned larger too. Her light shone further up the spiraling staircase and her ears twitched only a little bit. Trixie couldn’t decide what had happened. What had come to either get her, or to toy with her own sanity. Perhaps there was nothing else that dwelled in the castle’s staircases. Perhaps she should have been worried for her life. Though another growl would have left her throat. “Trixie doesn’t know who or what you are, nor does she care. But Trixie does warn you, if you ever even set one hoof on her, you will come to regret it,” she spoke to the darkness and whatever dwelled within.

A response didn’t come, not even after a full minute of waiting for it. The staircase remained as dead as ever. With that knowledge in mind, the area covered in light decreased again before Trixie continued on her way down. She had gone past the coldest part of the place and could feel the warmth of torches climbing up her body. It felt pleasant for her face, but her hooves were still frozen. A slight chuckle came from her before she shut all of her magic. Time and place had both arrived to scare the living daylight out of the prisoners. Her malice, her hatred and disappointment for not becoming Rarity’s meal, would be received by one of the poor souls in there.

A couple minutes later did her hooves touch the straight floor again. No longer would Trixie have been descending down the stairs and bounded with her head. Finally could she look straight ahead again and not have an issue with any or everything. In front of her stood an archway that was half covered in dark. Beyond it laid the prison and she heard some chains rattle. Trixie grinned like the devil before she entered the place. She would have done where she came for.

She stepped through and the familiar sight had returned for her. Amidst the light of the torches that kept them warm, each of them could be found. Prisoners that dared to either defy the previous vampony queen, or unlucky enough to have discovered the castle after the veil lifted. Vampony and pony alike were locked away, doomed to starve, rot and die in that place. None of it, in that particular order. Trixie’s eyes glanced to the walls and she saw how they were chained by their front legs and necks. Immobile to do anything else other than awaiting their fate.

There must have been dozens of them, because just a bit further came the cells. Cells that were made out of silver in order to keep the more dangerous beings locked away. Moans would have come from them all every now and then. Their coats ravaged by the filth of the place, combined with the red streams of their own, dried up blood. All of these ponies would have served to feed whomever lived within the castle’s walls, some would have only lived longer than others. Those that would have died, would be cleared at a later date.

Trixie made her way past the restrained ponies and over to one of the many cells of silver bars. She glanced through each of them, looking for the most suitable pony that could deliver what she wanted to serve her mistress. Potent, strong blood was required. The blood of a vampony would have only suffice, according to Trixie’s own logic. She came to the end of the cells and turned back around. She had seen every pony that was locked away. But there was only one door that she wanted to open. The door that was leading to a stallion that was potential enough.

Moments later would Trixie have done the job she was set out for. As she appeared before the silver bars, she tapped on them with her hoof, hoping to wake up whatever was asleep in there. With the key levitating in her magic and unlocking the door, the poor stallion woke up. His eyes glanced hazily over the situation moments prior to feeling a magical punch forcing him back down to the ground. Trixie had entered to come again and take his very blood. She was welcome to try, he wouldn’t scream.

He had never screamed when they took the blood from him, only hisses and glances of disgust would have come. Not to mention the fact that he never spoke to anypony else. Perhaps that was the reason as to why she had come again to him? The stallion wasn’t sure. Anything could have been the reason why she was there. From her ‘mistress’ commanding it to just the will of the hanghorse, there were too many possibilities to count.

Yet he could see her standing there, facing him with her tail between the silver bars. He was just a normal pegasus stallion, but his size and muscle had declared him to a danger for all other prisoners. He managed to work his way in a sitting position, just glancing at her in silence. But with every motion made, the scars of previous encounters return to him. Each scar that he had made him ache. She had stabbed him at numerous places already and it would have only been worse.

How long had it been since he last had felt the water of rain been showered down on him? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t even remember how long he had been in that place to begin with. Over time, he had almost forgotten the way his coat looked. The darkness of the place, combined with the red strains of blood over it, made it difficult to see. Perhaps it was better to have forgotten it altogether.

With the help of her arcane powers had Trixie summoned a knife. A knife that was made out of pure magical energy and could cut through hide and muscle like a hot knife through butter. She had also brought the cup in which Rarity’s drink would be served. But she, as a martyr, would first get some fun with the stallion before everything would have gone to hell.


~~~~


Raised on her hindlegs, Trixie allowed the knife to be held by her left forehoof and then made a step in the direction of the stallion. But with the step, her face became shrouded among the dark. Only the light of her magical aura could have revealed the sheer cruelty that was visible upon it. Any other pony would have succumbed to fright in that moment, but him for some reason. He remained as calm as he ever would have been. But he thought about breaking the one rule that he had. One rule that might have even surprised Trixie.

The eyes of the stallion glanced over to the mare with an expression of uncertainty. He hadn’t any idea as to what would have come next, or so he made her think. Because soon afterwards, the impossible happened. “So this, is how it is going to be played? For centuries to come, you will keep me your prisoner, only to have me fed to whatever beast you believe in?” Despite his tough build, the way he spoke the words revealed he used to be a scholar of some sort. Two things that never would have gone together well enough in the first place.

The words it did the trick he wanted. Because right after the words had been spoken, Trixie staggered back in disbelief. The step she made, had been taken back. In the light of the flames did the face of malice turn to a face of misunderstanding, of conflict even. Trixie was conflicted about whatever was going on. She had never heard him speak, but a secret desire was there to hear him speak. “I, I, Trixie doesn’t know what you mean,” she returned. A frown came forth. It was too late though, whatever act she would have made from there on out, he wouldn’t have believed it at all. The facade was already dropped, but how long until Trixie would have realized that?

“What more can you do to me?” he asked of her, plain and simple.

That was the moment in which Trixie had to get back in control. She felt that every single pony was watching the pair of them. Even though in reality it would have been only a couple. All the others were still too far gone or didn’t even dare to make a glance. “Trixie can make you suffer fates that are far worse than death. Yet you spoke, normally you are the most silent of them all. Which means that something has changed? Cold air around the back of the neck, perhaps? Perhaps, the discovery of fate not being kind to you, and you have embraced death?”

The stallion only scoffed at those words. Her attempt to get back in control was almost pathetic. “I’ve accepted death the day I was brought here, I had accepted a fate worse than death the moment that knife first sank into me. Yet I was allowed to live, to keep on living until I die of blood loss. Oh missy, there are so many things you could have done and I endured them all in silence. You hold no power of me. So I ask again, what more can you do, to a stallion who has already accepted a fate worse than death?”

That was the moment where everything snapped in Trixie’s mind. She was having enough of the entire situation and deemed the stallion to be too dangerous to be kept alive longer. Seconds would have ticked by before she let out a deep exhale. A step towards him was made and her face was once more shrouded in the dark. She would have given him answer on his question, in a way he had anticipated. “This,” was all that Trixie said before the hum of her powers increased.

With a fist of the arcane was the stallion raised from the ground and forced against the wall, forced to watch her approaching him. “And Trixie is going to enjoy, every slice she makes in you.” The wicked grin across her face hinted to unreasonable. Every step that she came closer, the arcane knife was raised higher. The stallion could have only prepared himself for the pain to come.


~~~~

 
A pain which came not much later. He felt the slicing stab going through his right wrist and had to muffle the screams of pain, resulting in only a grunt of discomfort. Trixie would have sliced the knife further to his hoof, opening the wound that would have filled with the cup. No magic was required to let the blood drip in it. Gravity, despite cursed and frowned, was helpful sometimes. Just, sometimes.

The cup would have been filled only moments later, but Trixie didn’t cease the bleeding. In any normal case would she have patched it up to let it heal again for the next round. But that time she didn’t. She didn’t do anything in fact. Her body remained standing there, only moving the cup to the back of the cell, letting it be warmed by the flames. Her eyes kept on gazing in those of the stallion. They both knew what would have happened next. They both had accepted what came soon.

Trixie took just one step back while the knife was taken from the wrist. The blood that squirted out would have fallen and dripped down to the floor. Cough of exhaustion were made by the stallion who felt the tip of the blade being set atop a lung. He gave Trixie one last glance of pure hatred, then the blade pierced through.

Not even a single scream filled the prison, not even a yell of victory or hatred. Just sheer silence business was conducted between the two of them. Trixie would have let time decide how long it would have taken before he saw death coming. The stallion was only glad that he finally could have left the prison.

One last sharp pain went through him though. A pain caused when the blade was retracted and Trixie dropped back to her hooves. In front of his eyes did the knife vanish and she took the cup again in her hold. Trixie turned away from the stallion altogether but held still firm against the wall. Only when she had left the cell would he have dropped down to the ground, aching in agony because of the wound. The puddle of blood underneath him would have gotten bigger as seconds passed. With the last bits of strength in his voice, he spoke, “G-Go ahead, r-run back to your, your mistress. Flame, will consume...you all!”

Those words caused Trixie to cease her walk. She turned back around and even returned to the cell with a raised eyebrow. This deep down in the depths of the castle, the grip that Rarity had over her had become lesser. Trixie could think more free while she was down there, Trixie could act more like herself, like the monster she had become. With a raised eyebrow she eyed the dying stallion. “What, did you say? Something about, flames?” Trixie was curious as to what he could have meant with it. But flame could never consume stone, and the entire castle was made of that stuff.

No, he must have meant something else with his words. Something that they still hadn’t seen up to that point. But what was it that he meant with them? Trixie could have only guessed. But the stallion tried his best to raise himself back up. With all of his might had he tried to get back on all four of his hooves. And even in the darkness of the cell, the puddle of blood underneath it was clearly visible. Trixie almost would have become scared by it, almost.

Though faster than that she had anticipated it, he managed to get a hold of her. He had gotten Trixie by the chest and brought her closer to the bars. Face to face, they could glance each other deep in the eyes. With his last bits of strength would the stallion have spoken his last words, his last warning for everypony present in the castle. “The fire, consumes all, sunlight, will be the death, of all of you!” Those were the last few and precious words that he managed to cram out before Trixie pushed herself away from him, causing him to stagger backwards and in the end losing his balance.

With just a single thud does the stallion fall down to the ground, knocking himself out while his blood continued to run out of the body. Trixie had just a single glance back to him, mumbling words under her breath. Then did she left the situation and made her way back to the surface. Trixie held no desire to stay any longer in the dungeon than that she would have and only wants to go back, back to her mistress.

While she made her escape from the prison, she heard the hoarse laughter that the dying stallion gave them. He is still conscious, but for how long would he have remained? It was a question Trixie didn’t have the answer on before she went through the archway. Leaving the moaning of the other victims behind her, leaving the bodies left to rot, leaving them for that wretched wolf to consume once the time was there. All that she wanted to do, was to get out of there and stay away for a long, long time to come.