The End Of Slender-Mane

by Mr. Grimm


The End Of Slender-Mane

Twilight Sparkle knew something was following her. The mare had been trying to put off the eerie feeling of unseen eyes watching her all night, but she couldn’t deny it anymore. She looked back over her shoulder down the long, lonely dirt road, the only road that went through the Everfree Forest. It was empty. She turned her attention to the trees that lay on either side of her. They towered above her, reaching up into the cold autumn sky with gnarled branches as if trying to grasp the stars that shone above. Twilight could see nothing but dried out foliage; the remains of the summer growth between the tree trunks. But there was something else there, something that evaded the mare’s eyes.

Twilight shuddered as a faint breeze chilled her spine. The leaves rustled, and some blew out of the forest and crossed her path as if to send an omen of ill intent. The mare took a step back as their dried husks skittered along the grooves in the earth marking where so many carts and wagons had traveled before her. Twilight looked back up again, and thought she saw something step behind a tree in the distance. Her blood ran cold as she stared at where she thought she had seen movement, as if waiting for it to happen again. All she was met with was the same eerie silence that had been her company for the last few hours.

At last Twilight broke free of her mesmerized state and instead focused entirely on the road, not daring to glance into the darkness of the trees. But still, she felt it watching her. She had no idea what it was, but with each passing moment her heart beat faster. Once more she looked back down the road behind her. The mare stumbled over her hooves as she saw something just far enough away to be unclear to her eyes. It was tall, dark, and topped off by a pale head. Twilight gulped, her throat dry with fear. To her nervous eyes it appeared to be in the shape of a pony, and thus she rationalized it was merely another traveler. Twilight quickly turned around and started forward again.

She glanced back one more time to look at the strange pony. She gasped as she realized that it no longer stood where it had been only moments ago. Now she was certain that she had just seen whatever had been following her. It couldn’t have been a pony. The thing that was watching her didn’t feel like a pony. Twilight suddenly noticed that her quiet hoof-steps had become louder as she had broken into a trot without even realizing it. Sweat trickled down her brow as she felt the watcher move in closer. She sensed it was right behind her, but was too afraid to look back. Twilight didn’t hear any other hoof-steps but her own, but somehow she knew it was right behind her.

She suddenly doubled over as she was overcome with a horrible cough that came out of nowhere. Her lungs ached with each violent wheeze, feeling as though they were on fire. The coughing fit was brief, but was powerful enough to stop her in the middle of the road. The moment she stopped hacking, Twilight forced herself to start forward again, this time breaking off into a frantic gallop. The watcher was closer than ever, right on her tail. But again she was seized up with another coughing fit. The painful whoops felt as though they were being forced from her lungs by some outside force squeezing her ribs in monstrous claws. The agony became too much to bear, and Twilight fell over in a bunched heap against the cold, dry dirt road.

The unicorn found herself looking up into a monstrous shadow that towered above her, as tall as the surrounding trees. As she looked at its impossibly long legs, the image of a spider flashed in Twilight’s mind. The legs ran up to a thin body on which the unicorn spotted a blood-red necktie. It was only now that she realized that the creature was not dark in its coloring, but was clad in a black business suit. Its head, the color of pale flesh, was completely devoid of any facial features; a blank canvas of cadaverous skin. It stood over Twilight, as still and as silent as the grave. The unicorn was only able to stare in silent horror at the creature before her. Its appearance somehow seemed familiar to her, as if she had seen it in another life.

No. She had seen it once before in this life. Twilight was drawn back to a memory from a time so early that it should have been forgotten. But it had remained, locked away in the back of her head. Twilight recalled seeing the creature on the very first night she had slept in a real bed as opposed to a crib. It had stood just outside of her window leering at her, just as it was doing now. At the time she had thought it was a giant spider, and for many years afterward she suffered from arachnophobia. But now she knew that what she had seen was something far worse, something that had an otherworldly, alien presence.

The creature slowly cocked its head to one side as it peered at the purple mare. The slight movement allowed Twilight to see something moving on its back. At first she thought it was some kind of writhing snake. But it slowly grew longer, revealing itself as a kind of tentacle sprouting from the creature’s back. The appendage was oily and black, like a rope made of tar, and reflected the light of the moon as though it were expelling it from its surface. Twilight knew that the creature was a thing of darkness, something that was from some lightless void in another world.

More tentacles began to take shape on the creature’s back, now looking like the squirming branches of a monstrous tree. They wavered and grasped at the air as though looking for something to pull in, to devour, to kill. Twilight’s heart raced wildly as they slowly began to descend from the creature’s great height down to where she lay. As they drew closer she could feel their sinister powers leeching her own from her body. She felt them pulling not only her life force, but the things that made her up. She could feel the tentacles grasping at her dreams, trying to steal away her thoughts and memories. They wanted her life to feed the insatiable abyss that was the creature.

But as the horrible appendages wormed their way towards her, they suddenly paused. Twilight saw the creature’s blank slate of a face hesitate. She watched it turn to look down the way it had come, down the way it had followed her. The breeze began to pick up, and the unicorn saw the creature’s suit of shadows flutter in the wind. Twilight suddenly became aware of the loud noise that was slowly filling the air. At first it sounded like thunder, but as it grew near Twilight was able to tell that they were hoof-beats. Something was coming, and both she and the creature knew it. The unicorn was able to turn her head to gaze down the lonely road.

The thunderous gallop was suddenly joined by a long, screeching whinny. It sounded warped and distorted, as though it came into the world through a malformed mouth. Twilight’s eyes widened as she saw a shape appear in the distance. It was approaching at a speed far faster than Twilight could ever hope to travel. The purple mare saw the creature above her take a step back, as if in surprise. Twilight herself felt surprise, which turned into fear the moment the approaching figure came into full view.

He was enormous. Nowhere near as tall as the creature, but far larger than an average pony, standing on strong, sinewy legs. His coat was as black as midnight, darker than coal. A long tail whipped back and forth behind him, its glossy hair reflecting the light of the moon. On his back was a saddle from another time, its surface pitted and scarred. This was the saddle of a war horse, crafted in the distant land of Germaney, carried by the long-defunct Horssian army. The looming figure was dressed for battle, but that wasn’t what Twilight noticed. For the most obtrusive feature of this new pony was that he had no head.

The giant came to a halt a small distance from Twilight and the creature. It stood tall and powerful, and like the creature seemed to stare at them with eyes that weren’t there. Twilight glanced back up at the towering monster, which gazed back at the newcomer with some alien emotion. The headless pony pawed at the ground, as if issuing a challenge to the creature. The tentacles moved away from the unicorn and took a position surrounding the creature’s head, forming a protective forest of shadowy appendages. A long saber suddenly drew itself from the newcomer’s saddle, and hovered in place near the stallion’s bloodied stump, as though it were being carried by an invisible mouth.

The two beasts were focused on each other with fierce but silent aggression, but Twilight could sense that the creature was somehow unnerved by the newcomer in a way she was not. She was truly terrified of both beings, but there was something in the way the creature’s tentacles hovered about its neck that seemed to suggest that it was afraid. The dark appendages suddenly shot forward at the headless stallion at a breakneck speed. They were met by the stallion’s saber, and Twilight saw several writhing black ribbons fall off into the road. The creature drew back its tentacles as though shocked. The stallion let out a garbled whinny from its neck and charged forward to meet the enemy.

Twilight managed to roll out of the way as the stallion’s massive hoof came down only inches from her head, and managed to crawl off of the road and into the bushes. Tucking herself down amid the rustling leaves, she turned to watch the battle unseen. She saw the creature stumble as the headless stallion slashed at its forelegs with his saber, and at one point saw its right foreleg fall off entirely. The purple mare’s mouth fell open as she watched the towering figure topple over, landing in the road with a soundless crash. Almost immediately it was back on its hooves, the missing leg growing back.

The creature launched another attack with its tentacles and managed to ensnare the forelegs of the stallion. The headless beast thrashed about angrily, thrusting its sword into the mass of writhing eels as they shot forward. Each time one was severed the appendage recoiled to the creature’s back. The stallion began to attack the creature’s legs with a burning fury so powerful that it cleaved the forelegs in two with one blow. The creature fell once more, and struggled to back away as it regenerated. Before it could, the stallion attacked and shortened the forelegs one more. The creature’s tentacles lashed uncontrollably as it fell forward, and Twilight knew that it was afraid. The stallion’s saber suddenly flashed in the moonlight.

A white shape tumbled towards Twilight’s hiding place. The mare covered her mouth with her hooves to block out a scream as she realized what it was. She continued to stare at the creature’s severed head even as its body fell over, the tentacles now limp and unmoving. The unicorn glanced up as the stallion reared up on his hind-legs, letting out a victorious whinny. The earth shook as he dropped to all fours again. Twilight’s heart skipped a beat as the stallion cantered over to her brush. The mare suppressed another scream as he thrust his blade down, piercing the creature’s cranium. He picked it up and examined it, feeling it with his incredibly large hooves. They shrank back at the touch disgustedly, and the stallion threw it over Twilight’s head into the woods behind her. She glanced back just in time to see it impact an oak tree, where it splattered to bits as though it were a rotting pumpkin.

The Headless Horse turned away from the forest and began galloping back the way he came, letting out a frustrated whinny as he went. Twilight watched it leave, her heart still racing even after it was gone. Still looking down the lonely road, she began to crawl out of the bush. She spotted the lifeless body of the creature nearby. No longer driven by the dark energies that once powered it, it was rapidly decaying into a putrid slime. Though it lay on its side, Twilight was still amazed at how tall it had stood. It suddenly struck her why it had been so tall in the first place. The unicorn looked over her shoulder at the woods where its head lay in pieces. She knew why it had been so afraid of a stallion with no head.

Because its head was its only weakness.