The evil whistle of evil.
There was light at the end of the tunnel, slowly prying him out of the blackness. He turned to look behind him. Black. Dark. Nothing. This tunnel had no exit, and truthfully, he didn't want it to. He'd heard the stories and tales which the other wolves so commonly spoke of. To go towards the light was to tread forward unto death and release yourself of life, whilst to turn around and brave the darkness was to take up life once more.
Or so the stories told...
Peering into the darkness, he found that he couldn't see the tunnel's walls (if there were any, that is). All around him the world seemed to stretch on in an eternity of shadows, save for the single speck of light ahead of him. Somehow he knew that he could wander through that abyss of darkness for centuries on end, perhaps even millennia, and still find no light other than the one that loomed ahead, like a lone star in the dusk sky.
He stood still, his ears swivelling on his head in a vain attempt to find any kind of sound. There was nothing, not even the draw of his breath. He tested this silence with a quick bark. Nothing. As he worked his paws around the unseen floor, he found that he couldn't feel anything either. It was almost like a dream, only it was far too real.
He wasn't dead, this was far too dark to be the afterlife. He saw neither the dancing flames of Netherthran's hell nor the brilliant sun rays of Jarik's paradise. This was simply... was it 'limbo' they called it?
"Come." Whispered a ghostly voice ahead. "Come to me..."
The voice perplexed him. It was so familiar, yet unlike anything he'd ever heard. It sounded joyous and excited, yet at the same time heartbroken. He shivered as it spoke to him again.
"Come home, little one, come home..."
Calmly, he began to walk towards the light.
"Yes. Come, come to me, come home..."
He should have been scared, and scrambling back into the darkness to reclaim his life, but was there really a reason to? He had no home, no parents and no friends, nothing but himself. What reason did one have to live when life itself had become pointless?
"That's right... come here, come home..."
As he drew closer, the light became brighter, as if kindled by his presence. Waves of inexplicable scents washed over him, all emanating emanating from the light. He took them in, savouring their strange and wonderful smells.
"Stop." ordered the voice with such urgency that the pup stopped dead in his tracks. for an entire minute the voice did not speak, leaving him alone in the silent and overwhelming darkness. Finally, after a wait which seemed to last last for hours, it spoke.
"You're not ready!" it screamed so high that it deafened him. The light shrank back into the dark, quickly shrinking into an insignificant speck. The unseen speaker still called to him from the depths of the darkness.
"Not ready... not ready..."
"Wake up!" screeched another, more feminine voice from behind him. "You've got to wake up NOW!" He felt something... pressure on his chest, as if someone was pushing down on him, trying to crush him. Suddenly, he began to ache. The force pressed down on him again, and the ache grew stronger. His lungs stung stung and his stomach burned, but his heart caused him the most pain. With every strengthening beat it sent a torturous torturous spike of pain coursing through his body. He collapsed to the floor in agony, groaning silently to himself.
"I said wake up!"
An unseen force jerked him further back into the darkness. The small remnant .of the light ebbed away into nothingness The pressure on his chest began to rise and fall, as if some unseen phantom was beating his chest with its paw. The pain began to grow to an excruciating level, and tears began to slowly roll down his face. Was this the afterlife? Was he doomed to spend an eternity in this place enduring such vicious torture?
Was this hell?
"Please," whimpered the feminine voice "just open your eyes..."
I sat fidgeting in front of the two storey house which my captors lived in. A thick chain bound me to a nearby pole which that big-ass red stallion had shoved into the ground. Winona stood squatting on the porch (apparently it hurt to sit down) next to the withered green mare who sat snoring in her rocking chair. The former, needless to say, looks far from happy... In fact, that’s an understatement; let’s just say that if looks could kill, I'd probably be dead.
I suppose she wants me to apologise, although, truth be told, this was one hundred per cent her fault. Maybe if she wasn't so stuck up her own ass she could learn how to take a joke or two.
The door of the house swung open, and out came Applejack. From the cringe on her face, I take it that she can still taste my tail. If only she knew where that thing had been, the poor girl would never feel clean again. Her colossal brother followed in suit, the ground actually shaking with each step of his bulky hooves.
Applejack released an exasperated sigh. "I reckon it's about time somepony taught y'all a lesson or two." she nodded grimly to her brother, who marched forward to her side. "Winona, ya' best get back inside."
I don't know what worried me more; the weird little trinket that Applejack had in one of her hooves, or the smug, condescending smile that Winona was giving me. Winona did what she was told, walking back into the house with a giddy little bounce in her step. Why the hell is she so damned happy?
Big Mac looked towards his hooves shamefully. "A'hm mighty sorry about this, fella, ah really Am." he mumbled under his breath. Sorry? Oh bugger, something nasty is going to happen, isn’t it?
As if on cue, Applejack raised the small tube to her mouth, and an evil smile crossed her face as she popped it into her lips and blew.
Oh. Dear. Gods...
"THERE ARE KNIVES IN MY EARDRUMS! FUCKING KNIVES!"
The shrill shriek of harpies, forks against plates, hooves being dragged across chalkboards, they all sounded like music when compared to the relentless ear rape I was experiencing. I'd call it the sound from hell, but even demons aren't evil enough to omit this level of ear-fuckery. It was almost as if someone was driving a pair of white hot needles into my ears, although that was kind of an understatement. My head felt as if it was melting from the inside out. Any more of this and my brain would be dribbling out of my nostrils.
"Okay! I surrender! Just make it stop, for the love of the gods, MAKE IT STOP!"
“Now c’mon, sis, that’s enough!” yelled Big Mac, placing a hoof over his sister’s shoulder. She pushed him away savagely. He tumbled to the floor (damn, Applejack is tougher than she looks), and before he could get up, an orange hoof came down hard on his chest.
“Don’t you try anything, Big Mac,” growled Applejack. “You an’ I both know he had this comin’”
Bitch.
She clamped her lips around the whistle again, and blew.
Winona had propped herself up on her hind legs, using the windowsill to balance herself. Something was amiss. She'd been subjected to the dog whistle before, but only in short bursts. Whenever Applejack had used it on her, she would take extra care to make sure that it didn't hurt her too bad. After all, she only used the thing to make a point. But at the moment Applejack was doing a little more than making a point, she was torturing the poor thing!
'No! C'mon Winona, she ain't hurtin' him that bad... is she?'
The convulsing wolf slammed his head violently to the ground and dragged it through the dirt,and one of his hind legs begun to spasm wildly. A single tear rolled down Big Mac's cheek as Applejack blew harder. As her lips wrapped around the whistle again, the wolf's mouth opened in a soundless scream. His one foreleg groped at his skull weakly, as if he was trying to dig something out of it.
Winona had been punished with the whistle before, but this was far more than simply punishment. Big Mac pulled himself off of the floor and trudged over to his sister, acting cautious of her, as if she were some sort of vicious animal. He laid a hoof on her back again, only this time more gently. Applejack ignored it, keeping her eyes fixed on the squirming wolf. Big Mac leaned closer and muttered something quietly into her ear. She swatted him away with a foreleg, taking the whistle from her mouth to scream something at her brother. Big Mac shrank under her rage, taking a few uneasy steps backwards. She cast her brother one more hateful glare before returning to her torture. Winona had seen enough. Someone had to put an end to this his, and it looked like that someone needed to be her.
"Please man, stop her!" I sobbed pleadingly to Big Mac as his sister set the demonic little tool against her lips again. My head seared with an intense pain, one more terrible than any other I had felt before in my life. It was almost as if my brain had heated up to such an extreme temperature it was melting the skull around it. I gulped for air, my breath hoarse and ragged. Reaching out with my foreleg, I brushed my paw against the stallion’s hoof. “Big Mac...” I manage to choke out "help me out here, and I will suck your dick… I swear to the gods I will.”
... What? Don't look at me like that! You would've totally done the same thing.
Applejack inhaled once more, and I readied myself for another barrage of pain. The pain, however, never came.
Winona ploughed through the house door and onto the porch, growling ferociously. All eyes snapped to her as she put on her savage display. Damn, and I thought she was pissed when I bit her in the ass.
Applejack was the first to get over the shock of the moment. She stomped a hoof demandingly, a small snarl of her own on her face. "Winona, get back inside, now!" she snapped. Winona moved towards me, her eyes not leaving Applejack's for even a second. She came to a stop in front of me, lowering herself into a defensive stance. Just what the hell was she doing, didn't she want me to suffer?
"Get back inside!" hissed Applejack through clenched teeth. Her eyes still burnt with that passionate hatred that I thought she reserved only for me.
My furry knight in shining armour replied with nothing more than a throaty growl, inching closer to me as she did so. Applejack looked as if she might actually explode with rage. The pair stood their ground for at least a minute, neither breaking eye contact. Big Mac and me merely looked at them in anticipation, neither of us willing to do something as suicidal as interrupting their uber intense staring contest.
Finally, with a grumpy huff, Applejack turned her back to us and made towards the house. "Y'all wanna be that way? Fine!" she grunted. "But don't come cryin' ta me when he decides to take another bite outta ya!" She disappeared into the house, leaving us alone with Big Mac. The stallion sighed to himself, his posture deflating.
"A'hm awfully sorry, lil' fella," he said in his fatherly way, gently placing one of his hooves against the side of my head and stroking it affectionately. "mah sister... doesn't take too well to anypony who hurts her family, by accident or not..."
I give him a look which screamed 'no shit', and he pulled his hoof back in what I assume was shame. He was apologising for his sister, when as I recall, he was the one doing all the torturing. He looked away, unwilling to meet my venomous gaze.
Still, I suppose I can't pin all the blame on the poor stallion. He did happen to be the only colt in a house full of mares, after all. If I was raised in a place like this, I'd probably be a little bitch who couldn’t stand up to his sister either. I dragged myself off of the ground and propped my head against one of his legs, welcoming another one of his loving strokes. Gods, I hope nobody was watching. Crippled or not, I was still a timber wolf, which meant that I still had a reputation to uphold.
"Y'know," he said, a small smile appearing on his face. "up close, you're kinda cute."
Well, so much for reputation.
After caressing my hide and giving me a quick scratch behind the ears (oh gods yes!) he let left us be, following after his sister. For the first time I notice the warped scar on one of his forelegs, and a pang of guilt struck me right in the old ticker. Did he really deserve what I did to him? He'd only wanted to protect his sister, and I'd left him marked for life. To think, he was the one who was sorry, when I was the one who'd been causing all the pain (excluding the bloody nose he gave me when I met him, of course).
Waitwaitwaitwaitwait... I'm feeling sorry for a pony. Me, one of the most cynical cynical bastards out there who eats cute, cuddly animals for a living. Just what the hell is happening to me?
Winona interrupted my little reflection session with a nudge from her nose. "You alright there, fella?"
"Yeah... yeah I'm fine." I mumble.
She frowned to herself, looking me up and down pensively. "Y'know I never thought she'd take it so far, right?"
I began to fumble clumsily back to the barn. I needed peace, and some time alone. For all my life I had been the predator, the one at the top of the food chain. To have someone twist and break me the way Applejack just did was a rather new experience, and not exactly a nice one either. She stripped me of my power and confidence and forced me to grovel at her hooves. The sharp teeth and vicious claws I had once prided myself on now felt weak and obsolete, and all of my skill in hunting and killing seemed pathetically weak when compared to the brutality of Applejack.
So, this is what it feels like to be bumped down to the bottom of the food chain.
“Hey, c'mon, don't go bein' all grumpy about it!" barked Winona from behind me. She darted in front of me, blocking my path. "Don't you dare give me the silent treatment, mister! Ah jus' saved yer flank, so how about you suck up yer pride and talk with me for a second?"
She really isn't going to leave me alone, is she? Can't a guy wallow in his own sadness around here?
"Winona, please, at the moment I just want to rest, okay?"
She seemed taken aback by how sincere sincere I sounded, and admittedly, so was I. The torture had taken a lot a lot out of me, and I simply didn't have the energy to be a prick at the moment.
"Well then, we can talk on the way to yer bed!" said Winona, strongheaded as always. She moved to my side, and we both continued onwards to the barn. I was tired, just so damned tired. All I wanted was some peace and and quiet, but a certain dog was having none of it.
"Now there ain't no doubt that Applejack gone a step too far back there," said Winona. "but that doesn't mean ya didn't have it comin' to ya. Ah mean, you've been causin' all kinds of trouble since ya first got here!"
"Like?" I mumble with a yawn.
“Well let’s see, ya scarred Big Mac, spit on our hospitality, tried ta take a bite out of mah flank, and to top it off you're about the rudest thing I've ever had the displeasure of meetin'. Did I miss anything out?" Well there was that one time when I dragged Applebloom through the dirt so that I could break into a pony's house, throw their furniture about and then try to scoff their beloved pet, but she doesn't need to know about that.
"Nope, I think that's about it... unless you want to count my failed attempts at romancing your icy heart. I said sarcastically. Ha! And I thought I didn't have the energy to be a prick!
Winona gave me a cold glare. “Since when is sayin' ya wanna buck somebody considered romance?"
She uses the word 'buck', really? Is the Equestrian language really so damn intent on using puns that it swaps out it's swears for them? Shame on you Celestia, shame on you.
"Are you kidding me!" I hiss. "Asking someone to do the horizontal bop with you is about as romantic as you can get!"
She widened the gap between us, looking at me like I'm infected with the plague or something. "Uh, you mind givin' me a rough description of what your idea of ‘romance’ is?"
"Well, first of all the males of the pack sniff out the female via the pheromones she produces, then they face off with space each other to see who's strongest, and then the winner... bucks the female and produces offspring, simple.” and that, folks, is love and affection in a nutshell.
"That's it?"
"Yup."
"No gettin' to know her, askin' her out, meetin' her parents or, y'know, actually falling in love?"
"Winona, you're not making any sense!"
"Ah just forget it!"
The rest of the trip went by rather quietly. I think I actually might have freaked Winona out a bit with my A to Z description of love. She won't come within five feet of me and she keeps casting me these awkward glances. Hey, she asked to hear it! It's not my fault she doesn't know anything about the birds and the bees.
Finally, Winona broke the silence.
"you're weird, you know that?"
"You have no idea." I say with a smirk.
We came to a halt at the barns entrance, and it was a chore to simply keep myself standing. "Thanks for the help, Winona," I groaned, practically half asleep. “I won't forget it."
Winona stared contemplatively at the spot where the wolf had just been. He'd slipped off inside only a minute ago, and she guessed from the audaciously audaciously loud snoring she heard that he was already asleep. His last words to her still ran through her mind. He thanked her. Him, a wild beast who was only a few hours ago chewing on her backside. Slowly, a small smile crept onto her face. Maybe he wasn't such a flank hole after all.
The snoring subsided, and the wolf's voice boomed from within the barn. "Winona, I'm trying to sleep, and you standing there all spaced out is really putting me off. So how about you do me another favour and begone!"
Then again...
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NO! WE WOULDNT!
NO! WE WOULDNT!
NO! WE WOULDNT!
*all three of them back the hell out of the room like it was on fire*
i see a color tag not closed
1688240 Curses on you color tags! I'll get right on it.
I wish I could convey how happy this makes me.
. . . yes. . . yes we would. . .
1691928 I knew I wasn't the only one...
This is pretty good, I can't spot many errors.
Though I feel that the wolf got over the dog whistle thing a bit too quickly, For all the effort you put into emphasizing the torture, it seems that the wolf recovers and then forgives Big Mac a little too easily, though that might just be me.
1737933 You've got a point. I have a terrible habit of writing chapters without fully thinking them through (hence why there may be a few gaping plot holes here and there). But at the same time, I think that the wolf would have a certain amount of respect for Big Mac after he tried to reason with AJ.
1738441 True enough
But how did he hear Big Mac's attempts with the horrible whistle torturing his earholes?
1740623 He's secretly Spiderman, therefore has super hearing. I thought that was obvious?
1743365
It's so obvious now that i'm looking back 
how did I not see it before?
Says the mutant wolf living with ponies to the wild animal made of wood