Hell's Silencing: Forsaken Innocence

Flora looked at the landscape of the town. A wretched metal grating made the floor where the roads and sidewalks would be. The buildings were barbaric structures that looked like places of torture, judging from bodies dangling on their sides. About two stories up, the buildings taller than such were ripped clean and swirled in a vortex above the whole place. Who had built this contorted framework, and why?

The mare glanced at each of the buildings. Bloodied, rusted, dangling bodies.... She tightened her grip on the sword, a snarling expression forming on her muzzle because of it. She hadn't meant to look mean, but she had no choice given a weapon was in her mouth. And she needed to get the lantern off of her stomach, but how was she to do that with hooves to work with?

A soft static began ringing as she quickly glanced around once more. What was making that noise? She heard nothing else aside from the static and the hushed gale of the vortex above. The rain was still hammering the ground, but it was silent in such a way it felt like the rain and the darkness were one and the same.

She shook her head again, blinking harshly a few times.

The buildings, now like normal buildings except in disrepair and wooden planks covering windows and whatnot, had stayed in the same places. There were houses and stores and even a hotdog restaurant on her right. That fog had concealed almost everything, though. The static, still soft, began mocking her. She was still a...horse-thing, and she didn't like it one damn bit.

She sighed through her nostrils and began to trot toward the restaurant, but she couldn't help but notice something was awry as the static grew louder and more distorted. The door was shut with wooden planks, but inside the mare could hear...sobbing.

Feminine sobbing no less. It sounded...like a young girl, perhaps a teenager. A full-grown woman was a very different matter, and Flora wasn't full-grown by any stretch of the imagination. Nope, she was only 14 years of age.

The sobbing intensified as muffled feet seemingly dragging along the floor were heard. Was it getting closer, or passing the door on the other side?

Flora peered into a hole the planks didn't cover and found herself jumping backwards in the same instant--with good reason. A clawed hand scratched between the planks as if searching for flesh. It was as white as Flora's pelt, though it was hideously lacerated and covered in blood. A lone shackle adorned the wrist as the chain was whipped to and fro in the winds created by the owner of the struggling arm. The sobbing became frantic shrieks of pain and terror as the arm was retracted and forced through two whole overlapping planks, which broke and clattered noisily onto the road.

Again, the arm was withdrawn and--as if defying all logic and laws of physics--forced the door open in such a way said door flew and became impaled into a wall. This caught the mare entirely off-guard as the creature proceeded to give her a body slam onto the pavement. Searing pain shot though the mare's rear leg as it was hit hardest. The thing then picked her up and threw her into a dumpster.

Flora got up and shook her head, heaving at the pain and what she saw.

The creature had no left arm, and it stood on two legs--horse legs Flora herself currently had--bent hideously awry. It should never have been standing, and on two legs no less. It was deathly white, horribly lacerated as its only arm flailed about to and fro like a reverse metronome. It had a shredded gown on its body, white that was stained red like the rest of its body. Stitches made up its legs and what remained of its neck. It had a bare skull in the shape of a horse with canine teeth that were yellow, rotted, and somehow sharp. The skull itself was bloodied, and it looked as though what little flesh attached to it was obscured by the aforementioned blood. It let off another pained cry as it awkwardly ran toward its adversary, who ran around the creature and watched as it impaled its arm into the dumpster. Taking the opportunity, the mare galloped toward the abomination and jerked her head sideways before the blade of her weapon tore into its backside--right where the heart would be. The monster kicked profusely and flailed relentlessly as it cried in pain, causing Flora to shove the blade in deeper in order to spare herself a headache. Noticing her muzzle was to the sky, she tightened her jaw-grip and threw her head down sharply in such a way the blade itself turned as though it were an overgrown key.

The monster's shrieks slowly grew quieter as the flailing stopped at a hastening rate. Seeing no reason to keep the blade still any longer, the mare took it out and reverted to all fours as she noticed the blade slid out with ease. The monster slumped down onto the dumpster, all possible signs of life were but diminished. Why didn't she break down and cry right then and there despite the fact she just killed a something pounding at her morality? This just didn't add up.

What should I do now? Flora thought as she stood there trying to make sense of this mess, the static having fallen silent.

The fog was unwavering, almost as if refusing to answer, and more chills greeted the mare's body.