• Published 8th Jun 2014
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Moonie shorts [Filly Nightmare Moon] - Eighth



A series of short stories about a filly Nightmare Moon, nicknamed Moonie, and her father figure/guardian Anonymous the human.

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24 Ore no Kouma

You lie there on the couch, staring up at the roof while wrapped up in a blanket and thinking warm thoughts as the winter's frozen grip continues to try and turn you into a human ice block. It's a shame there is no electricity in this world, or that you haven't got a thick winter's coat like these ponies. Beside you is Moonie, seemingly unaffected by the cold as she plays with her train set. The scene brings a smile to your face. Her playing so innocently, it's as if she's like any other kid.

"Oh no! Train 1's track got changed somehow so it's on a head on collision with train 2. Train 2 has slammed on its brakes but train 1's have failed. Nobody can stop this now," she gleefully exclaims

You lie there and as she uses her magic to push the trains toward each other until they collide, then she casts a spell that sets them alight.

"Mares, stallions, colts and fillies all scream in horror as they try to escape the inferno. For some it's already too late, the impact has ended a few lives and a few unfortunate souls were rendered unconscious. They lay there, unaware of the fiery doom closing in and the panic surrounding them as ponies leap over them in their hasty get away. Then, suddenly, a lone spark finds its way to the train's exposed fuel tanker, igniting the scene all at once."

She casts another spell, causing the fire to flare up.

"Not one pony survives the ordeal," she mutters in a very excited tone.

"You know, I'm beginning to see why you were banished."

"What? I'm just playing," she replies, defensively.

"Yeah sure. You know what, it's too cold."

Rather than press the issue, you take a seat by the fire, your blanket still draped around your shoulders. Its warm glow soothes your frozen face and Moonie climbs into your lap, curling up with a satisfied sigh. You stare at the fire, imagining the horror scene Moonie has painted in your mind of the little ponies fleeing from the fire. Then you look down at Moonie, she looks almost at peace as she tries to sleep there. Her face seems content as the orange glow heats the area and her hair flowing as if a gentle wind is blowing.

"My little devil can't be this cute," you whisper to yourself.

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