Blood Moon

by The_Darker_Fonts

Chapter 27: The Slaughter

Hemorrhage moved silently, cutting through the dark landscape with speed that was ungodly by all standards. The wind roared in his ears, a contrast to the way his sleek form cut through the air without a whisper. He kept his heartbeat steady and slow, breathing in a controlled matter to prevent himself from panting loudly. His body was warming up quickly because of it, but there was no better alternative to keeping himself fast and silent. He barely felt the grass of the hill and wet drizzle of the storm that had rolled in, blotting out the moonlight slightly. He didn’t need the light to see, his eyes keeping the landscape bright and clear, every detail laid out sharply.

Ailade and Argon had split off in different directions to allow their attacks to pincer into his and Leper’s, cutting off a small group of soldiers to massacre and retreat into the darkness again. Ahead of him, a light blazed like the sun, a squad of soldiers scouting around the base of the hill. Within seconds he fell upon them, a swirl of blackened fury that cut through them in one fell swipe. Only one of them even realized what was happening before his throat was torn out by Hemorrhage’s claws, blood splattering the loudest sound to come from the engagement. Leper stepped on the torch, extinguishing the light and allowing them to continue, unimpeded.

They finished their race around the base of the hill after only a minute more, their unprecedented speed allowing them to clear a mile long obstacle in a fourth the time it would take a normal pony. The terrifying speed abated as they slowed slightly, coming face to face with the Oppotimare Valley. These hills were the rough border to the entrance of the valley, a strip of land that dipped into the ground a bit, bordered by mountains on one side and raised forests on the other. In it, the army camped, lit by hundreds of fires and spotted with thousands of tents. To his side, a low growl escaped Leper.

“Silence,” he hushed so quietly that only the lycan’s enhanced ears could pick up the instruction. He knew it was difficult for the lycan to remain in control of his bloodlust and rage, but it was in moments like this that he required strict, harsh commands to ensure he wouldn’t go over the edge. The lycan snapped his mouth closed, giving Hemorrhage the slightest nod, confirming that Argon was still in control. Pressing his lips in a firm line, he began to creep forward, keeping his sleek figure low and light, barely allowing himself to have any tangible mass. Slicing through the wet night, he darted forward again on padded feet, claws prepared and teeth silently beared. It was hard for even him to maintain control when allowing his bloodlust to flare. However, by preventing himself from going into a frenzy before combat, he would be able to sneak up on his foes.

As they descended into the valley, only his heightened eyesight allowed him to catch the shadowed movement of Argon to his far left and Ailade to the far right. It was a swift, almost impossible movement to even his eyes, the other two nocturnals also well versed in slinking through the shadows with their hundreds of years. The four descended on camp swiftly, Ailade dispatching a pair of lookouts silently as they went. While about a quarter mile apart, he could still well see as she ripped through them with relentless fury. In only a few minutes, they were close enough to the first fire that he could identify each pony individually.

There were five unicorns and four earth ponies in their midst, presumably because this unit had been part of the southern recruitment. There was very little to no pegasi that lived south of Canterlot, perhaps maybe a few hundred farmers in the Oppotimare itself. That would mean that any pegasi in the Crystal Empires new, treacherous army, would be traitors and murderers of their kin, destroyers of their home. The enragement of the thought brought another surge of adrenaline pumped blood through him, boosting his speed that much more. Without a noise, he made his way into the blazing light of the campfire, allowing shocked yells and curses to escape his foe before engaging.

Leper had left him alone to deal with these nine while he took on another group huddled next to a nearby fire. That meant he had nine ponies to dispatch in as short a time as possible. Not a real problem as they were all unarmed and unprepared for what they were about to face, but still doubling his work. He leapt into the air, soaring over the heads of the ponies closest to him and right over the fire as well, landing squarely on those behind it. Their bones snapped beneath his claws, two ponies killed as their spines were crushed. He whipped around, swiping a massive claw out at the pony to his right, practically removing his head. Meanwhile, he kicked backwards with one foot, the appendage sinking into the chest of the pony in his blindspot. He kept his foot deep in the dying pony, using it to swing the corpse forward and flinging it through the fire.

It hit one of the ponies he had leapt over, crunching bones and a pained scream informing Hemorrhage that his aim was true. He dove at a pony that was trying to run from the fight, using one claw to pin him to the ground. Clenching it, he tore out the stallion’s backside and tossed it aside, already moving on to the seventh and eighth ponies. The two unicorns fired blasts of magic at him, both missing as he swiftly moved aside and fired one of his own blasts. It struck one directly, a flare of fire spouting out of its face and chest while smoke puffed from the burning. The other unicorn shrieked as his leg was burned off completely, caught too close to the blast to avoid damage. Hemorrhage dashed past the wounded unicorn, using his body to throw the hapless stallion into the still blazing campfire as he continued on to the final pony. The mare had barely managed to shout a desperate call for help before his jaws came down on her, tearing her in half.

This and the brutal killings did manage to catch the attention of nearby soldiers, who began to spread word of the attackers as others went for weapons. Thankfully, the camp was rather tightly packed, meaning that in one leap he was among another group of soldiers, throwing one of them into the ground while grabbing another with his free claw. Holding the pony by the throat, Hemorrhage used him as a makeshift weapon as he swung the stallion as his allies. There were crunches and screams as the fighting renewed, two ponies felled by their comrade. Realizing the stallion in his grasp was also dead, he threw him with all the strength he had into an approaching soldier with a sword in her mouth. The mare was crushed by the force of her tossed ally, but that went unnoted as Hemorrhage charged headfirst into the final five ponies, crushing the middle one beneath his front paws.

He pivoted on his paws, and slick with blood and rain, he slammed his body into the right two, sending them rolling across the ground. With only two ponies left at this campfire, he didn’t waste the time attacking them directly, levitating them into the air and smashing them against each other once and tossing them into the roaring blaze. With some mild satisfaction, he realized that his blast from earlier had also set some tents aflame, and with only the small drizzle, it was beginning to spread. Turning to the next group, he almost smiled. Some forty soldiers were approaching him with a mix of spears and swords, and while the line seemed like a confident move to attack the nocturnal, he saw the horror in their eyes. Licking the blood from his lips, he let the feeling of equine serum burning in his stomach fuel him, the frenzy beginning to blaze like the fires that roared around them.

Hemorrhage felt his muscles grow more, his wings unconsciously spreading as they practically forced themselves out of his back, the pain forgotten completely in the afterglow of bloodshed. He charged the line, eliciting cries of confusion and warning as he avoided outstretched spears and swinging swords, his movements enhanced by blood and darkness. In milliseconds, he was pushing his claws through two ponies, ripping them in half while his right wing slammed into the neck of a nearby sword, crushing it instantly. He used the momentum to cut through the throats of two more ponies before bringing his left claw into the face of a spear-wielder. Flapping his wings powerfully, the gust of wind causing any attackers to lose their balance, he slid back on the muddy ground several paces, the struggling pony in his grasp. With a glare, he crushed his head, letting the soldiers stare in shock as their comrade was broken like chaff.

It had the intended effect. Several lowered their weapons out of sheer shock, the weakness allowing Hemorrhage to re-engage without fear. He felled a trio of unprepared earth ponies with a flurry of swipes, tossing one of them from his claws and into the faces of half a dozen other soldiers. The time he bought with that maneuver allowed him to dive deeper into the soldiers’ frail line, cutting down a duo of swords while throwing a spear-wielder into the air. As she crunched on the ground, he reached through another completely and crushed the throat of a third enemy. Feeling the stings of blades cutting into his skin from behind. He flared his wings, throwing an unseen number aside before flapping directly in front of him, the gust throwing him into the ground behind him. Rolling through the muddy, blood, and ponies that lie there, he came up and snapped a claw out, beheading a unicorn. No less than five ponies had been crushed by his rolled, and several more were wounded or attempting to stand. With half of his enemies felled, he had time to focus his magic on the fallen weapons, lifting them into the air and launching them into the force of a dozen centralized soldiers. There were screams and cries of distress as all twelve were cut down mercilessly by their fallen allies’ weapons. The remaining scattered eight, injured or attempting to flee, were already being reinforced, however.

Another group of determined soldiers were approaching, this time wearing armor and in an organized formation of thirty spears in front and at least two dozen swords behind them. His gaze hardening, he reached out and grabbed an injured mare whose legs he had crushed at some point, tossing her at a retreating stallion with a limp forehoof. The unsuspecting stallion screamed in tandem with the mare, the two becoming a mangled pile of bone, fur, and blood. Fueled by viscera, Hemorrhage stood tall and stared down the new force of enemies, mildly surprised by how many remained firm in staring back, raising their weapons.

He let out a growl, blood spraying from his mouth as he charged up a powerful fireball. He launched it with relentless vigor, but this time several unicorns were prepared to block the attack as the fireball exploded on a magical shield. As smoke and flares of magic blinded his foe, he veered far to the right, the formation’s vision obtruded by the attack. There were a few cries of surprise as he dug into the side of the swords behind the spears, not even bothering to slice them down with his claws, simply tossing them aside. There were screams and crunching bones as he ravaged the unprepared side of the formation, causing ponies to scatter in an attempt to avoid his carnage.

In a matter of seconds, he had killed four ponies beneath his claws, another half dozen scattered by his thrashing, grievously wounded or unconscious. He unintentionally stepped through one’s chest as he took a step back, stabilizing himself as he slashed down another sword. His claws glanced off the armor of a spear that charged him, allowing the stallion's weapon to jab into his shoulder slightly. At least ten other blades also began slicing into him, the disorganized soldiers simply attacking him instead of trying to reform their lines. Roaring in anger, Hemorrhage wheeled around, catching the soldiers behind him by surprise. Instead of slashing at them, he used his claws to crush four ponies into each other, spear still sticking out of his shoulder. Armor and bones alike broke as dying wheezes escaped the four soldiers sandwiched between his mighty claws.

Lifting the four dying soldiers into the air, he brought them down on two horrified swords that had attempted to cut his legs out. Turning from the gruesome mash of bone, metal, and fur, he noted how the soldiers were hesitant to attack him now, seeing that he had easily ignored their attacks while still killing so many of them. Only half of their swords were left, though many of their spears were unharmed and still prepared to bear down on him. Struck with a sudden thought that wasn’t simply attack, Hemorrhage turned his back to the spears, save for the one whose weapon was still in his shoulder. He attempted to pull it out, but his powerful claws only crushed the wooden handle instead of grabbing it. Annoyed, he reached out and caught the stallion as he tried to run, one claw digging deep into his back and grinding him to a painful stop.

He cried out in pain as he was suddenly thrown at his allies, though thanks to Hemorrhage's faulty grip on him, he missed and only managed to smash the stallion against the ground. In spite of this, it made the scattered swords separate even more, allowing the mordigan to isolate five swords from the rest and strike at them. They stood no chance, especially with how they clustered together in a vain attempt to dissuade him. He completely removed the head of one while grasping the other in his crushing grip, slamming him into his allies with brutal fervor. The stallion went limp as Hemorrhage was left with only a cowering unicorn to deal with. Not wasting the time to properly finish her, he turned and kicked a leg back, crushing her ribs through her armor as he sized up the remnants of the group.

As expected, the spears had formed up and were preparing to charge him with the swords desperately retreating to behind them. The spears charged as soon as he had turned towards them, attempting to catch him off guard and outnumbered. Unfortunately for them, they had no way of knowing how well this played into his favor. In spite of his appearance, bleeding from dozens of wounds, he was unfazed from the minimal damage he had received and how many enemies he faced. They had no clue the millennia old horror that they now challenged, the hundreds of slain that they would soon join without dignity.

He brushed aside the spears directed at him, leaning down and biting off the head of the foremost stallion. Spitting out the disembodied head, he slashed through the armor of a spear and stamped out the life of another. Without slowing down, he continued through the line, throwing aside those that stood in his way unceremoniously and slicing through any that attacked him. Tearing through the lines, he emerged covered in blood, both his own and the soldiers’. A dozen spears lay dead and dying, another few fleeing completely from the field in light of the complete massacre they faced.

Hemorrhage turned yet again, a blast of magic prepared and fired as the largest group of spears as they too turned to face him again. Caught unprepared, the flare of magic consumed half of the largest group, the unchecked power of the magic incinerating eleven ponies in a flash of light. The air turned to steam and the mud hardened, baked by the blast as several other ponies wailed in agony, losing limbs or lighting on fire. Charging the wounded, he tore apart the two ponies that desperately attempted to protect their fallen comrades, Hemorrhage ripped into the wailing soldiers. He knew he didn’t need to slaughter the seven mutilated ponies on the ground, but the effect it would have on his enemies was devastating.

Stepping forward, letting the viscera of a split pony slowly slide from his limbs, he glared down at the twenty enemies that dared continue to stand before him. He knew what they saw before them, the bloody, snarling monster lit by his own magic’s fire. The world seemed to burn, the rain having stopped completely, allowing the fire to spread from tent to tent. They were surrounded by flickering fires, embers blowing softly in the wet night wind. Slowly, Hemorrhage began taking a step forward, moving intentionally lethargic to draw out as much panic as possible. He could feel it in their terrified gaze, the way their eyes were pinpricks in the light. He heard their heartbeats picking up and smelled the delectable scent of fear emanating from them. Darkness, it had been hundreds of moons since he had felt like he could conquer the world.

Lunging forwards, he dismissed the stings of blades cutting his skin, barely registering the pain as he used his entire body to attack. His claws crushed a pony each while his wings smashed them into the earth. His tail whipped the faces of those too close for comfort and his hind legs jabbed into whatever enemies were foolish enough to try and encircle him. His jaws clamped down on one pony before throwing it into its comrade, his fast, ungodly movements culling ponies in seconds. Before the minute had passed, he had cleaved his way through the remainder of this force, twenty ponies shredded and broken in the wake of his enraged, unholy destruction.

By now, half the camp seemed to be moving about, and before he could size them up, another force of ponies attacked. He swept their swords with ease, dragging his claws through five of them in one long, gruesome swipe. Ignoring the growing pain from his hundreds of wounds, he bit a stallion in half while storming forward, crushing the head of one stallion and snapping the spine of another mare. Spreading his wings, he blasted upwards into the air, taking two ponies with him and firing a blast of magic at the nearest group of enemies. They went up in flames, not a unicorn among them to defend against the arcanic attack, six soldiers turned to ash in seconds.

He let go of the ponies once he was high enough in the air to not feel the heat of the growing fires, sending them plunging into their comrades with terrified screams. They crashed into magical barriers put out by unicorns in the mix, breaking against their own allies’ magic in horrific fashion. The gruesome distraction bought Hemorrhage time to land several paces behind their mass, disemboweling a retreating soldier to leave him alone with the force, the camp to his back. They were surrounded by out-of-control blazes, tents, campfires, and even bodies lighting up the night and burning his mordigan eyes. Only the path behind him led away from the fire, and now some fifty soldiers were trapped in a very precarious position. They realized only too late, though, still attempting to form a feasible defense.

Roaring with effort, Hemorrhage summoned all of his magical prowess to harness the flames around them and the embers that floated in the sky. They swirled swiftly as they subjected to his will, growing in both size and heat as he enhanced them for his vile purpose. Sweat dripping from him, threatening his concentration, he pulsed his magic, surging the flames towards his enemies, squeezing his eyes shut as he drained his reserves with the task. The roar of the fire and screams of ponies confirmed to him that his plan had worked, dozens of enemies eliminated in a swift swirl of burning death.

Panting, he relinquished his control of the flames, opening his eyes to witness the destruction he had wrought. Flames licked at the bones of those that had once stood before him, their armor charred and glistening with firelight. The ground itself smoked and dozens of small flames flickered across the ground. Not a single pony had been spared, including those who were strewn about wounded. The maneuver had been effective beyond Hemorrhage’s expectations, but it had also drained him magically and physically. Only his enhanced hearing allowed him to know there were still enemies attempting to face him.

This time, instead of a few dozen brazen ponies, perhaps hundreds of well armored and armed soldiers were approaching, their determined faces resilient in spite of the blaze. They were supported by archers as well and the unicorns preemptively protected their front line from any magical or projectile attacks with a magical shield. The heads of spears poked out a few inches from the barrier, discouraging any attempt to attack the shield itself. This formation was much more professional and formidable than anything the army had previously thrown at him, and beyond this formation, thousands of other soldiers were arming themselves. In only a few more minutes, he may be facing the entire army.

Looking around, he realized that Ailade, Leper, and Argon had all retreated. It was probably in his best interest to fall back as well. He had done his task, brutally killing hundreds of soldiers alone, destroying a good chunk of the camp in the process. He had suffered hundreds of wounds, and while those were minor right now, as soon as he returned to being a stallion, they would become life-threatening. Already he was pushing the bounds of what his equine body would be able to handle, the give and take of transformation. If he pushed any further and received more damage, it was guaranteed that he would die as soon as he returned to being a stallion, no matter what Ailade attempted to heal him with.

But his mordigan self told him to stay. It had been centuries since he had feasted on anypony, their sweet, strong blood giving him power unlike any magic possessed by a unicorn. He hadn’t even been able to enjoy it yet, simply killing relentlessly instead of feasting like he yearned to do. Now his bloodthirsty brain begged him to plunge into the enemy without hesitation, to rip, tear, and kill every pony he now stared at. Realistically, he could do it, ignoring their weapons and only focusing on the kill. He would be able to devour hundreds of them before finally dying, the unholy strength of his nocturnal body fueled by pony blood allowing him to do the unimaginable.

He wanted to, desired to, but Hemorrhage forced himself to think of something more painful that the wounds he would suffer, something more enjoyable than any blood he would ever taste. He thought of Joint, her beautiful, young face smiling as she pulled away from him, the taste of her kiss heavy on his tongue. What good would dying here do? He had to keep protecting her after tonight, her and Amethyst. Killing hundreds of soldiers would not protect her from the greatest threat of them all. If he died tonight, Sombra would find her and take her again, to subject her to the heinous torture of being his once again. No desire was stronger than that to protect Joint and her daughter from the Bastard King.

He couldn’t just retreat, though. He would be pursued, hunted, and found eventually. There needed to be some sort of threat that would scar the army, to prevent them from desiring to follow the monster into the woods. And Hemorrhage knew exactly how to satisfy both his hunger and open an avenue for retreat.

The army had slowed their approach, strategically hesitating to react correctly to whatever move the mordigan made. He was trapped in a ring of fire with the army blocking his only escape on land and the archers prepared to shoot him down if he took to the sky. However, in spite of their preparation for his retreat, they were completely negligent of his defense. Reaching out with his exhausted magic, he wrenched three of the strongest looking stallions from the line. The move was so unexpected that there was no counter grasp to save them, the three soldiers being dragged out from the shield and through the air towards him.

He let one be torn across the ground as he was pulled, slowing his approach and allowing Hemorrhage to focus on the other two. One was flung right into his left wing, the wind knocked out of the stallion as he crashed into the mordigan’s thick appendage. The other was impaled on Hemorrhage’s claws, gasping in pain. There was no time for a scream as the mordigan plunged his other claw in right alongside the original. This killed the stallion, which was lucky for him as he wouldn’t feel what came next. Feeling the surge of violence boil through his veins, he spread his claws and ripped them outwards, tearing the pony’s body into dozens of pieces and letting his innards be scattered. The army before him halted completely, their eyes wide in horror at how their fellow soldier had been mutilated unceremoniously, his body and sustenance wasted.

Hemorrhage wasn’t done, however.

Beheading the stallion on the ground haphazardly, he took the soldier in his wing by the throat and threw him into the nearby. The stallion instantly began screaming as his fur and flesh burned, stumbling to his hooves and attempting to retreat from the blaze. As he emerged from the fire, Hemorrhage sunk a singular claw into the stallion’s flank, dragging the burning soldier back towards him. The mordigan couldn’t tell if his victim wailed from the fire that was consuming him or the claw that dug through him. Regardless, his screams continued for several long seconds as he writhed on the floor, desperately trying to drag himself to his fellow soldiers. Screaming, it was only when he reached out a hoof towards them, begging for their rescue, that he slammed a claw mercifully through the stallion’s chest, ending his agony.

Finally, without looking up at the army, he reached down and lifted the disembodied head of the stallion to his bloody muzzle. He ate it in one bite, chewing blood, bone, and brain alike. Swallowing, he lifted the body and began messily devouring the rest of the body indiscriminately. This final sight was enough to make many of the ponies retch, unable to continue stomaching what they were seeing. Slowly as Hemorrhage’s meal progressed, the army began silently backing up, horrified eyes watching the mordigan’s first equine feast in over six hundred years. When he finished, the entire body devoured to the last drop of blood, he looked up darkly at the watching soldiers, a terrible warning.

Standing up, the monster turned and walked through the flames, unopposed.

Author's Note:

Yeah, this chapter probably garners an M rating. Definitely the most gore and straight brutality I've ever written, but man was it fun to write. Anyways, comments, questions, and concerns welcome and wanted!

Edit: I didn't realize but this chapter makes Blood Moon my second story over 100k words!

Comments

[TheVirtuousOne]

This fight scene just makes me think of a Lycan Doom marine the way you made that play out! Real cool to read though.

I can't imagine the mental fortitude the Hemorrhage has to control his bloodlust to such a degree and devouring a pony in front of them really sends the message doesn't it?

[The_Darker_Fonts]

11600247
Oh yeah. I don't know what a Lycan Doom marine is, but Hemorrhage is an absolute eldritch horror.