Til we close our eyes for good
Canterlot. The shining pinnacle of all things Equestria. Within its walls, the nobles and elites mill daily, discussing the latest politics and greasing the wheels of industry. Above it all, the Diarchy and their husbands watch vigilantly, the task of their realms protection diligently performed. But, there are places, things, ponies that fall beneath their notice. Corrupt and debauched souls who delight in the suffering of others, both of noble and common blood. And within their blood covered throng, a few manage to rise above the rest, carrying their depravity to new levels. At one time, I served these things. I was a mercenary. My loyalties lay with whoever paid me. I knew it was bad, but… my last job, the client screwed my out half my pay and I went there to get my due. In that horrid place, I met Swiftblade. In that place, I left my old self behind.
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A smiling pale blue unicorn stepped out onto the platform overlooking the pit where the entertainment was to be performed. In the shadows, various members of the upper crust watched expectantly, tongues wetting lips in anticipation of a promised event. Stamping his hoof, the unicorn lit his horn, send green sparks out. Fizzling out as they fell down into the blood stained stones of the pits floor, he said “Welcome, my dear patrons. Its wonderful to see you bright and cheerful faces. Now, we have a really big show for you tonight.”
A light female voice lilted, “Oh, my. Your such a tease.”
Chuckling, the stallion bowed his head.
“Of course milady. You pay for only the best. Now, for your safety and assurance of privacy, remember that during the show, you are all locked in. And of course, your silence is expected.”
Another voice, this time a cold rumble, said “This song and dance again? Get on with it.”
Giving a slight frown, the unicorn bowed slightly.
“Very well good sir. Now, let us introduce our special guest.”
A couple of burly earth ponies, both a light brown in leather harnesses, and both with the same cold looks, walked through a large alcove, behind them a cart. On it, a pony lay, legs chained, its body covered in rags aside from the lower part of the guests muzzle, showing it was clearly a female. Pausing in front of the pit, the twins looked up at their owner, and getting a nod, the left pony leaned down, pulling of the covering. All assembled gave acclamaides and light hoof stamps of appreciation at the gray Pegasus revealed. Numerous scars crisscrossed across the mares frame, but seemed to accentuate rather then take away from her beauty of her lithe and lightly muscled frame. But, what was best of all were her eyes. This one still had fight in her.
“Now, let’s tell you a bit above our lovely young mare. This is none other then the illustrious Swiftblade.”
Everyone assembled ooohed softly.
“Wherever did you find her?”
“Oh, the asylum. Our good friend, the head physician of our distributor, decided to grace us with our entertainment for the evening.”
Snorting, Swiftblade said evenly, “Yeah, after I gelded the fucker…”
The unicorn gave a cold chuckle.
“Ah, I see the good fellow deemed you worthy of being his beau?”
Eyes narrowing, Swiftblade snarled, “And he considered himself a rapist. Barely lasted twenty seconds. Trust me, he didn’t have any right to consider himself a male with that puny pecker of his.”
The unicorn tilted his head, and smiled almost fondly.
“Your going to be fun to break. Boys?”
Both stallions nodded, and unhitched themselves. Walking behind the cart, they nudged it forward, then putting their heads under, tilted it up. Swiftblade slid of the cart, wincing as splinters dug into her sides and legs, and clenched her eyes as she fell. With a strangled gasp, she fell, earning a few chuckles from the patrons. Wordlessly, the stallions rehitched, then walked out.
“Now, time for the show!” the unicorn master of ceremonies said.
Opening her eyes, then blinking to clear the haze, Swiftblade grimaced as she watched a iron gate lift on the other side of the arena. From the darkened room, odd shuffles and groans echoed, and suddenly, the pit was filled with a horrific stench. All assembled gave a gasp and a few wretched at what came forth. Slender limbs trembling, what used to be three earth ponies walked out, mange ravaged bodies trembling. Across their malnourished bodies, open sores and lesions oozed puss and maggots, the flesh under the patched of their coats beginning to darken with decay. From their muzzles, the three stallions tongues wagged and licked lips, exposing rotted teeth and long strands of drool and bile that hung down to drip onto the stone floor. The three horrors stumbled as they walked, their eye sockets oozing infection to leave green stained tracks down their cheeks.
“My boys found these three a couple of days ago. Surprisingly strong, and have an incredible sense of smell. As you can see…” he chuckled, and nodded, “That despite their condition, they can still appreciate a pretty mare.”
The largest of the wretches snarled, and the other two stepped back. Putting his nose into the air, he sniffed, a devilish grin across his muzzle. The unicorns comment about his catches appreciation became clearer as all watched in horrified glee but what hung under the wretches barrel. One of the rear stallions took a tentative sniff, the other a somewhat enthusiastic one, the pheromones of their alpha giving clear signals. The bolder of the two stepped forward, only to be sent back again with a hard nip, making the largest males point clear: me first.
Swiftblade grimaced as the male walked forward, head low and swaying slightly from side to side, nostrils working to get a bead on its target. As it drew closer, the mare gagged as its stench filled her nostrils. Hearing the sound, the other males stepped forward, both grinning. Soon, their alpha would make it scream. And then they’d make her scream. And scream, and scream, and…
Suddenly, a shout echoed out from the alcove overlooking the arena. One of the unicorns slaves was tossed back fall into the pit, head twisted at a odd angle. The alpha, a foot away from his prize, started, and took a step back… too late. All the weight off the stallion fell full force on the wretch, pining him easily. As it screeched and struggled, a human leaped down into the arena. Knees bending slightly as he landed, all assembled saw the upper half of its body was covered in a ragged and torn poncho, its head covered in a hood covering the humans face. For a split second, it regarded the scene, then bolting forward again, easily leapt over the newly killed earth pony and its current screeching captive. Both the other wretched whinneyed and pawed the ground nervously.
New scent…. Two legs… where, where was it? Fingers curling around the front of the larger of the two’s muzzle, Eli shoved the pony up and then back. Legs struggling to find purchase in mid air, the wretch screeched as it was launched back, then with a sickening crunch as the back of its head hit the wall, it fell silent. Fingers sinking in slightly, Eli yanked the pony back, then slammed it into the wall, the masonry becoming sodden with the blood, then with one last yank back, the human slammed the skull as hard as he could, bits of brain and gore splattering out over the stone walls. Letting the pony go, Eli turned to his partner. Yanking of the rags, and exposing the frame underneath, he cracked his knuckles. The other wretch whimpered, ears turning to the sound.
“Come here princess. Uncle Eli’s gotta present for you…” The wretch shrieked and began to run, and in a flash, the human was at its side. Fingers dug into the disgusting flesh, cutting off the scream to replace it with a gurgle, and that was become more strained as they dug in, rivulets of blood leaking down. Grasping its mane with the other hand, Eli yanked hard with his fingers dug deep, the stallion jerking as the newly made hole gushed out the creatures essence. As its struggles lessened, then stilled, Eli relaxed his grip. Arms and upper blood stained in crimson, the human slowly turned back to the assembled.
“Boo.”
Screams of horror echoed through the tunnels as the patrons bolted, some of them falling to be stampeded. A few escaped that day, to make the world a little darker, but most just fled blindly into the tunnels of Canterlot, their picked over bones the last testament of them ever being. The master of ceremonies of course had peeled out the second his slave was tossed into the ring. Now, the only ones living were the wretch, Swiftblade, and Eli.
Stepping over the postrated wretch, who uselessly tried to bite the human as he passed, Eli walked to the mare, and taking a key out of his pocket, undid her shackle. Loosening the leather binds around her wings, he stood up again to give the mare space. Cricking her neck and wings to work out the kinks, Swiftblade closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Opening them again, she regarded the wretch, and slowly walked over. Struggling anew, the wretch shook his head vehemently, screeching, “No, no no nononono…”
Over the din of its protest, a low voice was heard.
“Still want my soft touch, you piece of shit?”
Swiftblade raised a hoof over the stallions head….