YOUNG GOD

I don't know what I am doing. My senses aren't working properly. My memory is hazy. I have no consciousness at this moment. I stand alone inside an unlit void. My body is numb. My mind is only a passenger inside it. My limbs control me. They move me closer to the mass hiding in the darkness. The air is thick and warm. I take a deep breath. The smell is unmistakeable. It is fresh. I start shivering. Looking down, I notice the contents of the table before me. The blank expression on the bulging, green eyes. The gaping mouth full of broken teeth. The lines along which the orange colored hide has peeled away from the flesh. Thick, red blood pooling around the pile of organs that have erupted from the torso.

My mouth begins to water. I dig my hooves into the pulverized heap of flesh. The wet noises this motion creates makes my ears twitch. I tear out chunks of it, staring at the mangled tissue as it breaks apart from the slowly building tension. It fascinates me. It excites me to no end. I lift up the dripping hoofful of gore, taking in its sight for a moment. My eyes roll back into my head as I rub it against my face, spilling the fluids inside all over my hide. My tongue laps at it during each pass over my mouth. The flavor begins to overwhelm me. I let it hang out, tasting the flesh that is now my own.

I give a long moan, twisting my head around in a rhythmic motion as the warm substance caresses my face. My mouth hangs open, drooling. I stuff it with my flesh. I pick up more of it to stuff and cover myself. I brush the mane and tail against my skin, enjoying the tingling feeling this creates. I pull out the intestines, sucking in their heavenly scent. My entire upper half is drenched in blood. I lose myself in this embrace, letting out a gurgling sound as my mouth is overflowing with flesh. I feel light. Ecstatic. My head floats away into a different plane of reality. I am in a wonderful dream. My body dissolves into a sea of warmth. It fuses together with the flesh surrounding it. My blood is replenished by the fluids that I absorb. For but a brief moment, divine power flows through me.

I am whole once again.

My blissful state does not last. The warmth inside the flesh begins to fade. My heart is pounding. I'm hyperventilating. The life is fading from my flesh. I panic, hugging the intestines against my belly, cradling them as if they were my own. They are my own. I need them. The offal within smears onto my fur. For a moment I am relieved. They are still functioning. Then these tubes of digestion go cold as well. I cast them off my body. I shake my head, rubbing my hooves against it furiously. There is dead tissue all over my body. I struggle to get it off. The smell is mind-numbing. I taste blood in my mouth and spit it out. It no longer feels right.

I look at the butchered figure before me again. A feeling of disgust wells up inside me. The rest of it is no longer of any use to me. It is no longer my flesh. It never was. I move to dispose of it, but then stop myself. There may still be some use for it. I grab the sheet at the edge of the table and unfold it over the remains. Blood begins to soak into the material as it settles over the motionless heap. My hooves begin to tremble again. My heart feels like it's sinking into my guts. I grab the edge of the table for support, shaking my head as I try to regain my composure.

I couldn't wait any longer. The pressure was too strong. I couldn't hold back.

All I can do is kill.

She looks up at me with a pleading look in her eyes. There is blood flowing from her forehead. She hugs the pink bow against her chest while she whimpers my name. Her eyes light up when she sees me hesitating. I lick my lips.

All I can do is kill.

Her pupils become pinpricks when I produce the blood-stained hammer. She starts breathing rapidly. Her hooves scrape against the floor as she scrambles across it to the other side of the room. The back of her head bumps against the table, making her yelp. Something brushes against her ear. She turns her head to look, then lets out a high-pitched scream when she notices the arm dangling limply over the edge of the table. The hide on it had since faded from its original bright orange to a sickly, lifeless tan color. I slowly walk toward her.

All I can do is kill.

This is what I am. A big, strong, yet stoic and humble workhorse in the eyes of my peers. A dependable pony who works harder and better than any other in town, yet hardly ever speaks, let alone boasts about it. They see that as another virtue. An ideal.

But none of that is true. I am weak. A failure in every sense of the word. A slave to my craving for the soft flesh in their bodies.

All I can do is kill.

My struggles were all in vain. I was but an infant when they left us. She was all the family we had. I couldn't save her when that stroke took her away as well. I couldn't stop the decay of the soil as it destroyed our livelihood. Everything that I've ever tried to do to occupy my mind and body has failed.

All I can do is kill.

I tower over her. She is still squealing, calling my name. I raise the hammer.

All I can do is kill.

Author's Note

Sweet Apple Massacre sucks... so I tried to make it better...