The will of a single pony.

by EmeraldBlaze

Below Hell

Below Hell

Shout out to Stereo_Sub for tips on my story, trust me, in my opinion, it's much better now!

It is the year...the year unknown. Calendars aren't needed. Especially when there's nopony who has the time to even keep track of time. The last recorded date was July Third, 2021. That was the day the Krovozhadnye came to Equestria. They came out of nowhere. They came without warning. They came, without mercy. Everypony was caught in their path of destruction. Any resistance was crushed by an iron fist of those hulking bi-pedal monsters. Anything. Including them crushing dragons as easily as ants, despite them being one-fourth the height of a fully grown-dragon. Anything that wasn't trying to fight back was enslaved, and put into one of the sectors in Angrovox, the only survivable place in all of this world. There are no fillies or colts.

Heaven stands the highest, Land and the material world in the middle, Hell under, and under Hell, is Angrovox.

Angrovox was a production base for the Krovozhadnye, through the haze of dust and smoke, in the light of the sun, which appeared blood red, all you would find are factories. Within each factory would be a large quantity of around fifty ponies. On the flank of each pony was a number that was branded on. The ponies show no emotion to what goes around them, no thoughts on what they are doing, because, they always go for the ones that will scream. Among the ponies was an ash-grey pony. His number was Two-Zero-Seven. He was only a young colt when the Krovozhadnye came. Him, as well as everypony else, only knew the cycle of eating and working. His bags under his eyes visible from lack of sleep. Sleep was a rare thing, and treasured more then anything you could buy. In the older days anyway. Two-Zero-Seven had blacksmith duty, and finished making an axe for the Krovozhadnye executioner. He chiseled out a small [207] on the side and put it into the depository bin. Most ponies would have had a thought in their mind such as 'Hot damn, I just made a huge axe to cut off somepony's head. What kind of pony am I...' but these ponies don't think. They only work.

One guillotine land scalpel later...

A whistle went off in the distance. The signal for a meal. Ponies lined up side by side, as a trough of food was put in front of them. Nopony hesitated to eat, even though most knew that their food was made up of grass, dust, and even other executed ponies, but they get fed once every two days. Two-Zero-Seven finished his share and waited for others to finish. Then, everypony in Angrovox was force out of the factories and into the execution circle.

For the Krovozhadnye, executions were not for 'misdemeanors and crimes' but for 'fun.' The concept was not understood my most ponies, but the Krovozhadnye did. The numbers sole purpose were for the executions, if your number was picked, then your screwed. The ash-grey pony sat at a seat with the numbers [207] and waited, every day, three ponies were executed, or murdered, however the Krovozhadnye want, by quick beheaded or by the torturer, you would never know. The executioner came into the middle, and with a sick grin forming, it spoke the first victim.
"One Seventy Nine."
In response, a red coated stallion rose from the crowd. Silent, and accepting.
"Very good... It seems you accept your fate... I shall reward you..." The executioner hissed.
The stallion looked up confused, but as he did, he head was dropped back down to the ground, not attached to anything.
"Did you see it's look?!" It bellowed to it's fellow comrades.
"Well then...Zero-Four-Two..." It continued.
Nopony rose.
"Zero....Four....Two..."
Still no response
"Zero.Four.Two."
Just as it finished, an arrow flew from an undetectable assassin and hit a pink mare in her head.
"HOLY SWEET CELESTIA!!" One colt yelled as blood splattered on to him, while other ponies hit by the glistering red liquid remained unmoving.
The executioner's sick smile grew wider. "You..." it said, grinning.
"What!? NO! PLEASE!" The colt struggled as it was brought to the middle.
"I have a gift for you..." the executioner made way as the torturer came to the colt with it's scalpel.
The colt's eyes widened. "NONONONONONONONONONONO!!!"
It was the most horrid sight that anypony could witness.

After...

Two-Zero-Seven was called to the circle afterwards, as the other ponies left. Which was unusual. The executioner spoke to him.
"Fine works of art." it complemented the pony, who nodded.
"For this I shall reward you... If you do something for me.." The pony nodded again.
"Use our technology and make me a... automatic power saw..." Once again, nodding from the pony.
"Good. So, For seven days you shall have an hour in the resting rooms."
The pony nodded and departed, straight to the rooms.
He arrived, nothing there, not to his surprise. He went into a bed, closing his eyes.
The young colt's screams following him into slumber.

Comments

[ishmar]

Awesome story, it has a nineteen eighty four-ish feeling. one problem, you need a nickname for the Krovozhadnyes, "the krows" is a good suggestion