Fulfillment

by Amaranthine Thought

Chapter 6

I only met with Sweetie each time before the last two nights, and told her the final tactics Emptiness used in The Game.

Emptiness would start throwing things for distraction or injury; Sweetie had to get rid of any sharp or dangerous objects that Emptiness might use against her. She’d sometimes attempt to grab with her eyes closed, and Sweetie had to dodge instead of using a light against her. Emptiness would further her illusions and make fake versions of herself; Sweetie could tell because the illusions had no shadow and were somewhat see-through. Emptiness would also get faster, and Sweetie had to react faster in turn.

She just had two nights to go. Two nights to win, and then she’d win The Game, and Emptiness would finally lose, and Sweetie could tell everypony everything.

That first night, Emptiness did her best, or worst. But Sweetie had been very clever.

Her chosen place under the stairs gave her a lot of safety from thrown books, and forced Emptiness to have to grab at Sweetie from where Sweetie would see her, while being big enough to let Sweetie dodge a blind grab. The library itself was big and open, and Sweetie covered the floor with marbles and books, so Emptiness struggled to get anywhere.

She was angry when she came back, but she wasn’t enraged; she had her last night, and she’d never, ever lost the last night.

That’s because last night, Emptiness’ rules changed. She’d do all she could to reach her victim, and she’d do whatever she needed to do to make that easier for her.

Sweetie told me that if Emptiness was going to go all out, then so would she. And she did.

Sweetie told me that Twilight had realized that something had forced her to sleep the last night, but whatever worry or precautions she might have taken, Sweetie did it again, and she probably did it early too, considering her preparations.

Sweetie completely covered the floor in marbles, and then covered all that in paper, ripping up books to get enough. She took a bookshelf completely apart to then use those boards to reinforce her hiding spot under the stairs. She set lanterns to illuminate every dark corner she could find, making sure her own was the only dark spot left.

The last night was more of a battle than a game.

Emptiness would try to run at Sweetie across the floor, clearing it and tossing things at Sweetie. But Sweetie had a backup, and as Emptiness made clear paths, she threw screws in the way instead; and after a while, started throwing the books back at Emptiness.

Emptiness was really mad at that, but it didn’t hold her back for very long. Frustrated with Sweetie’s safe spot, she stopped to rip boards off of it to give her more space.

Which had Sweetie yank on something, and a nearby bookshelf dropped.

Emptiness dodged the first as it crashed to the floor.

She didn’t dodge the second.

The bookshelves, filled with books still, were very heavy; I can only guess how Sweetie got them to be traps themselves. For a moment, it was quiet, except for something banging in the upstairs closet; but then Emptiness threw the shelf off of herself, shrieking. Angrier than she’d ever been before, she went at Sweetie again, and that’s when Sweetie really surprised Emptiness.

Sweetie didn’t shine a light in her eyes, or try to dodge her.

Sweetie took out a knife and stabbed Emptiness’ reaching hoof with it.

Emptiness didn’t bleed, and she… she didn’t feel pain like anypony else does, but she did feel pain. She yanked back, and tore the knife free, screaming terrible threats against Sweetie as she did so. But Sweetie was ready, Sweetie had prepared, and Sweetie was now chasing after her, instead of Emptiness after Sweetie.

With a second, bigger, knife.

Emptiness was faster, and stronger, and she’d killed lots and lots of ponies before. Normally, Sweetie wouldn’t be any different than unicorns that had been much, much more dangerous than a filly with a knife.

But Emptiness had never had a foal chase after her before. And she’d never fought in a library filled with paper hiding marbles and hidden boards covered in nails. A library where Sweetie had made every shelf ready to come down at a moment’s notice, and they did, one after the other, shaking the whole building, making the area even more treacherous.

Emptiness still fought back though. Kicking hard to stun and hurt, but Sweetie was careful, and stayed only close enough to Emptiness to attempt slashing at her hooves. Too far to strike out at well, too close for Emptiness to recover, and most of the time, when she moved back, she’d be blocked by fallen shelves or slip on more marbles or step on more nails.

The stair’s banister broke when Emptiness tried to get on it, and Emptiness suffered the most, but she kicked Sweetie a number of times too. But no matter how often she hit Sweetie, Sweetie wouldn’t back off, wouldn’t stop slashing at her, wouldn’t ever be stupid enough to get close to Emptiness no matter how helpless or vulnerable she appeared to be. By the time the night was over, the library was a disaster of paper, marbles, broken wood and debris, most of which had slash marks on it.

As the light of the rising sun streamed in through broken window, Emptiness faded away, screaming in denial and rage. And then it was over.

Sweetie dropped her knife, and sat amidst the destruction, staring up at the shining light that filled the library. Waking birds chirped and sang outside, something was still thumping in the closet upstairs, and it must have seemed surreal.

She’d done it. She’d won all seven nights. And that last night, she hadn’t been afraid at all; she’d done what I and all the ghosts had wanted to, and went up against Emptiness despite everything. Refusing to fear her, refusing to let her win, refusing to give her even a chance to recover from the first shock of Sweetie actually stabbing her.

It was over, and she’d done it. She’d won The Game, and Emptiness had finally, after so, so long, finally lost. Sweetie took a deep breath, and finally relaxed.

That’s when Emptiness grabbed her.

---

“W, what!”

“We should have realized it. I mean, she even told all of us. The Game. The Game. It wasn’t real; The Game never mattered.”

“Emptiness didn’t care about sunlight or bright lights. She didn’t have any rules. She made the choice to play, but when the game ended, even if she had lost, she wasn’t about to just forget about what she really wanted.”

“And so The Game ended and Sweetie was the very first winner. But Emptiness wasn’t gone, and when Sweetie let her guard down, she grabbed her in the morning light.”

“She took a lot of pleasure in taking Sweetie’s horn. Enough that, even though there was another unicorn in the house, Emptiness left, leaving only the destruction of last night, her echoing, insane laughter, and a pool of blood. S, Sweetie’s blood.”

Gentle coughed again, and then a few more times. Then she wheezed, coughed, and choked, briefly feeling unable to breathe, but the sensation slowly faded.

She didn’t have the strength to really startle when Rarity lifted her up in her magic, and she looked only to just stare.

She didn’t see anger, or hate, or love, or sorrow.

She saw apathy.

“There’s a little more to this story, isn’t there?” Rarity asked, not a single hint of any consideration coming from her.

“…Y, yes.” Gentle wheezed, her throat hurting, the filly still staring.

“Well, I won’t hear the end of it with you like this. You’re going to get better, so you can finish. Do you understand?”

Rarity only saw Gentle blink, and didn’t see suspicion, or fear as the filly stared at her.

And Gentle did understand. Rarity wasn’t what she feared; she wasn’t like Emptiness. Even if she had seemed to be just the same as the horn hunter, Rarity was proving otherwise to her right then.

Emptiness had never controlled herself. She’d never held back any emotions, she’d never stop whatever she decided to do. But Rarity did.

Rarity had enough control that Gentle couldn’t see a single hint of sorrow or care for her. Not a single sign that Rarity even wanted her to get better, save for that she wanted to hear the last of what Gentle had to tell her. It had been so obvious before that Gentle couldn’t deny it; a control that overcame any emotion Rarity felt.

She was nothing like Emptiness.

Gentle slowly breathed as Rarity held her, her breath weak and a little pained. Then she finally decided, and lightly nodded in answer to Rarity, and looked at her again.

As Rarity made her way to the door, continuing to levitate Gentle, Gentle weakly asked, “R, Rarity…?” which had her pause.

“Yes?” she asked, stopping near her door to regard Gentle, still showing no sign of care.

“…Y, you can carry me.” Gentle told her, unsure, worried, but wanting to test.

Rarity watched her, didn’t respond at all. And then she gently laid Gentle on her back. Gentle made a little whimper of pain, as even that hurt, but Rarity didn’t respond. Gentle looked up to find that she hadn’t even looked back.

Gentle, for the first time she she’d knocked on Rarity’s door, relaxed.

Rarity left her home and nearly started, finding her friends there, Fluttershy having just been about to knock. Only Twilight was missing, and after hearing what had happened two weeks ago, Rarity understood why:

Twilight must be impossibly busy getting the library back together. That also helped explain why it had been Fluttershy, and not Twilight, who told her about Sweetie’s disappearance.

Earlier, Rarity had imagined that Twilight hadn’t told her because of their earlier argument; it had just sealed the numb hate she’d suffered from for so long.

“R, Rarity, we came to…” Fluttershy began, hesitating, leaning a little as she noticed Gentle.

“I’m afraid it will have to wait, darling.” Rarity sighed as the others noticed in turn, the unicorn gently pushing past them. “I have an unexpected patient for Dr. Light at Ponyville General.”

“W, wait isn’t that…?” Rainbow hesitantly asked.

Pinkie didn’t say anything, a little surprised; perhaps notably, she seemed much more controlled and calmer than her normal self.

“What, what’s going on Rarity?” Fluttershy asked, following her quickly.

“Who is she?” Applejack added. “Why’s she so hurt an why do ya seem so… uncarin? Ain’t ya worried fer her?”

“Honestly, Applejack, I don’t care. I don’t have a twinge of sympathy for her at all, in fact.” Her friends gaped at that, and Rarity finished, telling them confidently, “I’m just getting her to the hospital because she can’t herself. Once I drop her off, I’ll not do a single thing more for her, and spare her not a single extra thought.”

Her friends looked at one another in varying states of shock, and Rarity just continued on, calm and controlled.

And she felt Gentle gripping her a little more.