A Tale Told Around the Campfire

by Salted Pingas

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Horror, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 6861

Five friends go on a camping trip into the woods. How many will return?

When five friends take a camping trip into the woods, everything quickly spirals out of control when timber wolves decide to crash the party. Five friends entered the forest. How many will return?

Rated mature for: blood and gore, language

The first ever Timber Pony story.

Cover art by me.

Published 2013-10-31 16:50:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-31 16:50:03 UTC

The tale...

A small fire crackled and snapped as it slowly ate away at its meal of logs. Dancing shadows played across the ring of dense trees around a small and earthy clearing in the Everfree forest. The cold chill of a night, engulfed in stars, batted at the defiant flames as they cast flickering embers into the air. Crickets chirped in the brush just outside the ball of light, their simple music ignored by five campers laying around the fire, their gazes reflecting the bright and flickering flame.

Among them were two earth ponies, unicorns, and one pegasus. Both pairs of the same races were nestled next to each other with the lone pegasus laying alone.

After a short bout of silence, a unicorn with an extra sharp horn and blue coloration spoke up.

“Look, no offense, Quake, but this sucks. I’m cold, my hooves ache, and I’m laying on dirt,” Pokey Pierce gestured to the ground below him with his right hoof, the other occupied with holding the other unicorn close to him, “Normally that wouldn’t be a problem, but the nearest shower is miles away! Why couldn’t we have done this somewhere closer to Ponyville?”

“It wouldn’t have been a genuine camping trip,” Quake, Ponyville’s masculine masseuse mare, snorted with a mild and permanent scowl, “if you want to get cleaned up, just go find that stream we came across earlier and wash off there.”

“That sounds like fun!” Cold Front, the unicorn next to Pierce, spoke up, turning to him with her sky blue eyes. She ran a milky hoof through his silvery mane, tracing it down the back of his neck and to his rump, “maybe we could help each other clean off,” she added in a sultry voice, puckering her lips and leaning towards him shortly thereafter for a kiss.

Pierce obliged, meeting his lips with her own in a quick smooch before smiling cooly back at her as he opened his mouth to reply.

“Bleh! Get a room for the kissy smoochy stuff, will ya?” the pegasus interrupted him with an overly-grossed-out face, getting a glare from Pierce.

“And that’s why you’re never going to get laid, Skies,” Pierce said with a ticked tone.

“Hmph,” Blue Skies replied as he propped up his head with his forehooves, giving Pierce a copy of his own cool smile, “and who says I haven’t already?”

“Hm,” Pierce wondered aloud with sarcasm, tapping his free hoof as he looked off into the sky, “let me think...oh, how about every mare within a thousand mile radius of you!”

“Not again...” Creme Brulee, the earth pony next to Quake grumbled to himself in a deep voice

“Oh really?” Skies replied.

“Yeah, really, you stupid sack of-”

“Pokey, he’s just teasing you,” Cold Front interrupted, she gave him a teasing smile, “Plus, he’s not the only one-” she tapped him playfully on the nose, “-here who has yet to ‘get laid’ if memory serves.”

Pokey’s face turned beet red, and he gave an awkward smile as he lowered his head a bit in defeat.

“Now,” Cold Front began again, “Someone tell a scary story!” she looked around at the others with the fire reflected in her eyes, “anypony got a good one?”

“How about the tale…” Blue Skies began, getting up on all four legs and flaring out his wings, “of the headless horse!”

“Pff, c’mon. What are we? Eight? That story got old back when I was just a little school colt,” Pierce replied, the red spots over his cheeks faded away already.

“Only last year?” Skies asked, sticking out his tongue at the unicorn.

Pierce gave his flying friend a mischievous smile, igniting his horn. Too late, Skies realized his fault as the unicorn’s magic gripped his tongue.

“Aah!” Skies cried out, pulling back to no avail. He crossed his eyes to look down at the grabbed muscle, “Gib meh bah mah tongue, Pokeh!”

“What was that?” Pierce asked with mock misunderstanding, he swiveled his ears towards his friend, putting his right hoof up to one of them as if having trouble hearing, “I can’t understand you with your tongue sticking out like that!”

“Pokeh!” Skies whined.

“Let go of his tongue, Pokey,” Front requested with a roll of her eyes.

Pierce held out a moment longer before the glow of his horn died, the glow around Skies’ tongue following suit.

Skies flapped his tongue around a few times before closing his mouth with a weird face.

“Crap, that felt weird,” he said, giving a quick shudder that ruffled his feathers for a brief moment, “But anyways, how about the tale…” Blue Skies began again, standing and turning his back on the others as he lowered his head.

“Ugh, what this time?” Pierce grumbled, facehoofing with his free forehoof.

“Oh, shush,” Cold Front replied, waiting.

“Of…” Skies paused again before wheeling around and leaping forwards, the fire casting dark shadows across his wide-eyed face, “the Timber Pony!”

“The timber what-now?” Quake deadpanned from Brulee’s side.

“The Timber Pony!” Skies said, turning his head to Quake with the dark glee of someone telling an unknown scary story, “the monstrous machinations of timber wolf…” he turned his head to Pierce, “...and pony!”

Pierce wore a bored expression on his face, though Skies noted that he had Cold Front’s full, wide eyed attention.

“Many, many moons ago...back long before Ponyville was ever on any known map-” Skies began, lowering his voice and widening his smile as he began.

“So, what? Eighty years ago when the Apples first came here?” Pierce interrupted, so far unamused.

“Shut-up, I’m telling the story!” Skies complained before returning to his story-telling voice, “Anyways, long ago, in the rural town of Fillydelphia, there lived a woodsmith, his wife, and their young child. They were new in town, so the woodsmith built them a small home at the edge of the forest.

“The townsfolk had warned him...” Skies let his gaze slip between the four faces across the fire from him, his own face dead serious, “...warned him not to build so close to the forest, ‘there were timber wolves there’ they warned him! But he heeded not their warnings, the farther he was from the forest, the harder it would be for him to get wood, he reasoned.

“So in spite of their warnings, he built a good, one story home for his wife and child. Building it close to the forest let him get much more wood with much more haste, and soon he had a good business going, and grew a nice sum of bits to feed his family with.

“Of the timber wolves, he saw, nor heard, nor smelt a single one, though the townsfolk continued to warn him, ‘I’m telling you, there’s timber wolves in that forest, you shouldn’t build so close to it’ they continued to warn him! But still he didn’t believe them, ‘no timber wolves had attacked, there weren’t any there’ he reasoned,” again he paused to look at his four friend’s faces across the fire, the dancing blaze dancing wildly in his eyes, “he was wrong…

“One night, when the moon was highest in the sky and the clouds cloaked it in shades of grey, there was a scratching at the door. It roused the woodsmith from his sleep, but he ignored it and tried to go back to bed...only then the scratching moved to the kitchen window. The woodsmith ignored it again, it was surely just the wind knocking a branch into the glass, he’d cut it down in the morning...only then the scratching moved to his child’s bedroom window. This time he frowned, he knew for a fact that there weren’t any branches anywhere near-

“Crash!” Skies cried, leaping up to his hind hooves and flaring out his wings, making the other four startle. His tone grew more rapid, his eyes growing wide, “there was a sound of broken glass! The sound of his child’s scream!

“‘What was that!?’ asked his wife. He didn’t know, he replied as he rushed from bed and grabbed a candle. He pushed his way out the door and went into his child’s room…” Skies trailed off, now standing on all fours, when he spoke again, his voice was quiet, “A timber wolf stood before him, its jaws glistening red in the candlelight, glistening with the blood of his child, whose body lay ripped apart on the floor.

“The timber wolf snarled and leapt at him, biting him deeply in the foreleg. He bashed it over the nose with the candle, dropping it as he got away, slamming the door behind him as he rushed out. The timber wolf began to bash against the door, and there was another crash of shattered glass. This time his wife screamed. The timber wolves had finally decided to strike.

“The door to his child’s room bashed outwards, snarls of the monster behind it chilling the woodsmith to the bone. His wife’s screaming turned to a gurgle and fell silent.

“Afraid for his life, the woodsmith rushed from his home, screaming and crying into the town. Lights turned on all across the small town of Fillydelphia as the woodsmith collapsed into the middle of the town, sobbing and bleeding from his bite wound,” Blue Skies held up his own forelimb for emphasis. The fire continued to crackle before him. A log collapsed, sending up a shower of sparks.

“The townsfolk came out to see what was the ruckus, finding the injured woodsmith. But quickly, a far greater threat took their vision as the woodsmith’s house went up in flames brought upon by the candle he’d dropped in his child’s room.

“The woodsmith survived. Though a terrible fever and infection threatened to take his life, he survived. His house had burned to the ground and a quiet ceremony was held in honor of his family. The woodsmith did not attend, he was too wracked by sorrow.

“It was his fault and his fault alone that his family had perished. He had not heeded the warnings of the townsponies and now he had paid dearly for it. He did not remarry, turning into a recluse living in a horrid old shack at the edge of town. And so…” Skies turned his back on the group, looking at the ground sorrowfully, “...it all soon faded into the past like mist…”

“Well enthralling story and all, but how the hell does that have anything to do with Timber-” Pierce began.

“I wasn’t finished,” Skies replied, looking back over his shoulder annoyedly, “sheesh, way to kill the moment, Pokey.”

“Fine, finish,” Pierce gave a wave with his free hoof before stifling a yawn, “boring the shit outta me anyways so maybe I will get some sleep tonight after all.”

“But you see,” Skies began again, ignoring Pierce’s comment, “the peace after the storm didn’t last,” a creepy smile grabbed ahold of Skies face as he turned to face his audience again, “soon after, the next new moon to be exact, there was a killing! A pony was killed, their throat torn out in the streets overnight, their body shredded and partially eaten.

“The townsfolk, obviously, thought it was the timber wolves that had killed the woodsmith’s family. They had tasted the blood of the ponies, they reasoned, now there were striking again!”

“So the townsfolk entered the forests with torches and axes, finding and felling all the creatures that they could find. They taught the creatures a lesson, so they boasted over drinks at the local tavern.

“And so the killings stopped.

“At least until the next new moon.

“Another pony was felled, throat slashed out, blood spilled everywhere, the work of another timber wolf attack.

“So again the townsfolk went out to slay some timber wolves,” again Skies paused for effect, “but they found none. They combed the woods many times, but never once came across any timber wolves. They were certain that they’d killed the ones who’d tasted pony blood, but it seemed that in light of these new killings that wasn’t the case.

“So they came back to Fillydelphia empty-hooved, set up a neighborhood watch with torches to make sure no more killings occurred.

“And for a time it did...until the next new moon!

“Cries of fear were heard and the ponies on watch rushed towards them. As they got there, they spotted something far too small to be a timber wolf in the torch light. It fled from the shredded watchpony as the others approached with torches, the victim succumbed to his wounds shortly thereafter,” Skies paused for effect, looking over the faces of his listeners, “and when they looked to the ground for tracks, it wasn’t pawed prints that they found, but hoof prints of a pony leading out into the forest!

“Those on watch decided that they had the advantage, they had the culprit on the run! So they chased down the mysterious figure, if it was just a pony that they were after then their numbers would surely win the day!” Skies creepy smile returned, “They were wrong…

“More screams from the forest drew ponies from their homes, they rushed to the edge of the forest as, one by one, the cries of fear faded out. When the cries of only one more voice echoed throughout the night, a single survivor was able to flee the onslaught and rush back to town. She was covered in blood and fearfully spat out mad cries of a Timber Pony. ‘Its fur was covered with wood and its eyes glowed with a hellish light’ she cried. ‘It had killed her fellow guards, felling them in silence, one by one,’ and then she collapsed from exhaustion.

“They never discovered this elusive Timber Pony, and the killings forever ceased,” Skies continued, pausing once more, “But, when the townsponies realized that the woodsmith hadn’t been seen in town for more than a week, they went to search his shack, expecting the worst.

“And when they came to search, they found nothing but the worst...because the woodsmith wasn’t there, he had disappeared the same night as the final Timber Pony attack.”

Silence filled the clearing as Blue Skies’ voice faded away. He sat back down before the weakened fire, the others staring at him. For a time, the quiet crackling of the fire was the only sound around before Pierce spoke up.

“Well props for trying, but that really wasn’t all that scary,” Pierce said, giving Skies a bored look.

“I don’t see you doing any better,” Skies pointed out with a smirk.

“Yeah?” Pierce replied, tone growing aggressive again, “Fine, once upon a time there was an ugly pegasus named Blue Skies. He was so ugly that everyone died, the end.”

“Oh, you’re just jelly of these good looks,” Skies replied, standing and striking a magnificent pose.

“I thought it was pretty creepy,” Front said, giving a quick shiver.

“Hardly,” Pierce snorted, “if they’re anything like timber wolves you just need to make a lot of noise and scare them off.”

Skies turned his grin on Pierce, “Oh, you can’t scare them off that easily!” he said, “the only things that the Timber Pony fears are bright light and fire, and even those are never a sure way to keep a timber pony at bay.”

“Cliche,” Pierce dismissed with a wave of his hoof, “their only weaknesses are the things that let us see in the dark? You might as well just tell a story about vamponies and how the damn sun kills them.”

“Why do you keep bitching?” Skies said, a hint of annoyance finally finding its way into his voice, he gave a smile, “are you scared or something? Are the Timber Ponies scaring you? Pokey-Wokey?”

“Screw you, Skies. The problem is that it’s not scary,” Pierce replied with a scowl.

“I don’t hear you putting forth anything, Pokey,” Brulee added, getting an annoyed look in return, “At least Skies told a story.”

“Thank you, Brulee.”

The large pony gave a single nod to Skies. The story over, everyone’s eyes were drawn back to the fire, only to find that it had shrunk in size a bit. Pierce made a dismissive noise, yawning as he looked back into the fire.

“Pokey, Skies, you two mind grabbing a couple more big sticks for the fire? Just look around out there and grab what you can,” Quake asked.

“Sure thing,” Skies replied, turning and swooping off into the darkness with a mischievous smile.

“Why us?” Pokey asked, getting to his hooves nonetheless.

“Because the rest of us want some peace and quiet, and your guys bickering isn’t letting us get that,” Quake began, before indicating to the fire with a hoof, “Plus, fire’s dying, need more wood.”

“Ugh, fine,” Pierce grumbled, giving Front a kiss on the cheek before getting to his hooves and lighting his horn as he trotted off into the darkness around their clearing...

It had been some time since Quake had sent the two stallions out to get more firewood. Only Pierce had returned, feeding his sticks to the fire and laying down next to Cold Front once more.

“Okay, it’s officially been too long,” Quake started up quietly, bringing her eyes from the stars above and setting them on Pierce, “Pokey, go find him.”

“What?” Pierce asked, lifting his head from his hooves, half asleep.

“Shh,” Quake hissed, gesturing first to Creme Brulee and Cold Front, who were asleep.

“What?” Pierce asked again, quieter this time.

“Skies’ been gone too long, I’m afraid something’s wrong, go find him.”

“Why me? Look, y’know he’s just fucking around with us, right? He just told a ‘scary story,’” Pierce began, air quoting the two words, “and now he’s going to try and jump scare whichever one of us is dumb enough to go out there,” He finished crankily.

“He’s been gone too long. Even he’d have given up and come back by now,” Quake retorted, looking towards the darkness at the edge of their fire’s light, “Besides, you’re the one with the glow-in-the-dark skull protrusion,” She gestured with a hoof to his horn.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go look for him!” Pierce grumbled, “but if he jumps out at me I swear I’m going to knock his stupid block off,” Getting to his hooves, he paused for a moment in concentration, his horn soon lighting up with the light of a small torch. Cold Front mumbled something in her sleep, a frown creasing her face for a moment as Pierce turned to the darkened woods, “Skies!” he called out, taking a few steps away from the firelight.

“Quietly, Celestia damn you!” Quake growled with a scowl. Neither of the two sleeping figures awoke.

“Fine, sorry!” Pierce replied more quietly, moving out, grumbling, “Damn you and your stupid, fucking games, Skies!”

The group’s small campfire quickly faded to a dot behind him as he trotted onwards. He squinted through the trees for any sign of Skies as he went, expecting the pegasus to jump out at any moment to scare him.

He increased his magical draw, illuminating more of the area with the brighter light. A dark figure at the edge of the light’s touch leapt away as the light touched it, too fast for Pierce to get a good look at, but he knew the four legged shape well enough.

“I see you, Skies! Quit with this stupid hide and seek shit and come back, you’re starting to get annoying!”

There was no reply.

“Skies!” Pierce yelled again, looking around through the mass of trees.

There was still no reply.

Pierce grumbled and began after the figure, “I swear, Skies” he muttered to himself, “Sometimes-”

He was cut off by a flicker of movement in his peripherals. He swung right, squinting against the dark and searching for the elusive pegasus. He started forwards again, looking all around.

“Damnit Skies, I said…” Pierce froze mid step, eyes growing wide as they fell on a shape laying on the ground, “I-I s-s-said…” he took a few slow steps closer to the shape, his horn illuminating the whole of it now, “S-Skies?” he froze as something wet met his hooves. He slowly brought one of his shaking forelegs to his face, another flicker of movement in his peripherals ignored this time.

Dark red blood clung to his appendage, a pool formed around the thing before him. Pierce lowered his wide eyes to it…

Blue Skies’ body.

The pegasus’ dead, copper eyes stared lifelessly into the sky, wide to match the silent cry of fear that his gaping mouth was shaped into. A large chunk of his neck had been torn away, revealing a mass of red muscle under the skin.

Pierce’s eyes moved down the body, wide, his mouth open and unsure what to say.

A wing was bent at an odd angle under his body and his lower belly had been ripped open, blood coating his entire lower body from crotch to sternum. A mass of intestines had been ripped out of the body by vicious fangs, spilling out of the gaping hole and trailing onto the ground below, leaking foul smelling fluids into the pool of blood.

“Oh, gods!” Pierce exclaimed, holding a hoof to his mouth as he felt the contents of his stomach rise up into his throat. His hoof did nothing to stop the sudden flood of vomit as his stomach purged itself of all contents. He heaved and gagged, some of the warm liquid seeping out of his nose as he retched and emptied his stomach onto the ground, the action bringing tears to his eyes and leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

He turned away from the body, dry heaving as his eyes met the distant camp fire. He could see the flames illuminated in the distance. A silhouette ran between him and the far off source of light, and Pierce suddenly remembered spotting another four-legged figure in the night with growing dread.

“B-but if...” he trailed off, looking over at Skies’ body with a shudder, “...then who was...”

There was a snap of a twig and a low growl to his right. Pierce turned with a jerk, his horn’s light illuminating the snarling jaws and glowing eyes of a timber wolf. The creature’s jaw was coated with blood, sap-like drool dribbling from its maw.

“Timber wolf!” Pierce screamed, turning and charging away.

But not fast enough.

Pain shot up one of his hind legs and he let out a cry of pain as the timber wolf yanked back, bringing Pierce to the ground. Two strong paws landed on his back, keeping him down. Putrid breath lashed against the back of his neck as he struggled to free himself, knowing that any second now the timber wolf would close its jaws around his neck, snapping his spine and-

There was a solid whack and a yelp from above, the paws on his back left.

“Move!” Quake yelled, dragging Pierce to his hooves. He stumbled forwards, cry out once more and collapsing as he put weight on his injured hind leg, “Shit!” spat Quake, noting the wound in Pierce’s horn light.

“I can’t-” Pierce began, only for a low growl off to his rear to cut him off. He bolted away with another fearful cry, adrenaline numbing the pain and Quake on his tail. The rumbling sound of growling and the crunch of leaves and twigs underpaw chased the two ponies all the way to the campfire, where they halted, hoping that the timber wolf would-

The wolf gave a yip as it got near the fire, hopping away and disappearing into the dark of the night.

“Oh, fuck!” Pierce cried out, wide eyes scanning through the darkness as he tried to spot the predator.

“Whu…” Front mumbled, slowly waking from her sleep. Her eyes quickly found Pierce and she was instantly wide awake, “oh my god, Pokey! What happened to your leg!”

“Timber wolf,” Quake spat, “It bit Pierce on the leg before we got away, bitch’s probably still out there, waiting for us to leave the fire.”

“It...it got...it got…” Pierce stammered, fear and shock making him unable to finish.

“What’s all the ruckus-” Brulee began.

“Blue Skies?” Quake interrupted, taking charge as she strode up to Pierce.

He met her eyes with his own, the golden orbs filled with tears, “It got him.”

Quake’s face fell, her eyes cast towards the ground. Brulee remained silent and Front gave a fearful cry.

“Oh, god! What do we do!?”

“We...we can wait until morning,” Brulee reasoned.

“That’s not going to work, Creme,” Quake replied, looking over at him, “the fire’s going to die long before that, and it’s the only thing keeping the timber wolf away.”

“Well we can just get more wood to feed the fire!” Brulee countered.

“How?” Quake replied, jabbing a hoof out towards the darkness, “the second we step out there to get some more wood, that timber wolf is going to be on us!”

“Oh, god! Pokey, your leg!” Front cried out, hopping over to Pierce as the wound on his leg wept tears of blood. She looked to his face with worried eyes, “are you okay?”

“Well...I...how do we know that?” Brulee asked Quake.

Pierce waved his marefriend off with shaky hooves, “It...it’s nothing...I...I’ll be fine.”

“No it’s not,” Quake snapped to Pierce, trotting over to her saddlebags before speaking to Brulee, “we don’t, but we can’t take that chance,” she produced a large bandage and tossing it to the unicorn, “here, get this over that wound.”

“So we just make a lot of noise and scare it off!” Brulee suggested, eyes flicking back and forth as he huddled closer to the flames of the fire.

“That won’t work if we’re in its territory, only if we’re in a place where it isn’t comfortable. Outside of the forest for example. If we’re in it then nothing short of an open fire’s going to keep it away,” Quake gave the flames a glance, “even that’s uncertain,” she turned to Pierce, “how many did you see?”

“I...I don’t know, two...maybe three...I don’t know,” Pierce replied, using his magic to place the bandage against his injury, Front’s face twisted into one of horror.

“Damnit!” Brulee grumbled, fearful eyes moving back to the darkness, “so...so what do we do?”

Quake turned her sad gaze to the darkness outside their small ball of light, “I don’t know,” she replied.

“We’re all going to die!” Front cried out, fear filling her very being as she trotted quickly in place, trying to look in every direction at once. Quake turned to the unicorn with her signature scowl.

“That is the one thing that I know we aren’t going to do. We’re all going to make it out of this alive!” Quake asserted, “We just need to keep calm and find a solution.”

“Well...can we move the fire?” Brulee suggested, “If that’s the only thing keeping them away, if we can bring it along with us then the wolves won’t bother us…” he looked to the others among the group, uncertain, “r-right?”

“We might be able to, but Pokey’s going to slow us down with his leg the way it is. If just one of us went for help they’d be able to get there faster,” Quake said, trotting over to her backpack and digging through it.

“But...but who’s going to go?” Front asked shakily.

“I am,” Quake volunteered, producing a linen blanket. She pulled a large stick from the fire, ripping a long length off of the blanket and wrapping it around the stick multiple times and tying it off. She stuck the contraption into the fire until it lit up, effectively making a torch.

“Are you sure?” Pierce asked, wincing as he placed some weight on his injured leg.

“Yes,” Quake replied, “I should be back within two or so hours with help. Keep the fire going and stay close to it, okay?” she placed the torch in her mouth and began to gallop off. The friends flinched at the sound of growls emanating around the fire, the sound of twigs and leaves being crush underfoot rushing after Quake.

Cold Front latched onto Pierce, eyeing the surrounding area in fear, “J-just how many are th-there out there?”

“I don’t know,” was all Pierce could say.

Quake didn’t pause for a second, breathing heavily as she galloped full tilt towards where she was certain Ponyville was. She dodged back and forth as trees and bushes appeared before her in the torch’s light, springing out of the darkness like monsters.

All the while she silently cursed herself. She’d checked in with everyone in the know around town! There weren’t supposed to be any timber wolves in the area she’d chosen! But now all that had been wrong and Blue Skies had paid with his-

A root, huddled in the darkness of the night, lashed out at one of her hooves, sending her sprawling with a cry of pain. The torch went skidding across the ground, coming to rest a ways away.

“Shit!” Quake spat, scrambling forwards to get it. Her hoof landed on the wooden shaft and she brought it around, rolling onto her back and holding it out before her like a weapon.

Silence.

Quake panted, the cool night feeling soothing against her hot body. She was about to get up when a twig snapped off to her right. Her eyes snapped towards it, her ears following suit.

Silence.

There was a sound of rustling leaves to her left and closer to Quake. With a startled gasp, she turned in that direction, eyes searching and ears listening for any further signs.

Silence.

Quake placed the torch back in her mouth and rolled over, the sound of quick steps racing to her rear. She hopped to her hooves and whirled around, waving the torch before her.

“I know you damn mutts are out there!” she mumbled through the torch as she began to slowly back away.

More running steps behind her, a quick, raspy breath as it passed.

Quake whirled around, dropping the torch to a hoof and swinging it like a weapon. The torch only bit into the air.

She turned a full circle, eyeing the darkness before she continued once more, ignoring her throbbing limb as she ran with a limp once more.

“Bastard,” she growled between heavy breaths, voice muffled by the torch in her mouth, “gotta make it to Pony-”

Hungry jaws snapped onto her tail, jerking her to a halt. Pain shot through her rump as she was jerked to a halt, a cry of pain sending the torch skidding across the ground before her.

“Oh, no! No! No! No!” Quake cried out, trying to scramble forwards. The jaws, however, jerked her back with a growl.

She lashed out with a hind hoof, hearing a yelp as she connected with something.

“How do you like that, you mangy, wooden, bitch!” Quake growled, hopping to her hooves and slowly making her way backwards towards the torch.

Three pairs of glowing eyes greeted her from the darkness.

Quake froze in fear.

A distant scream pierced the night, making everypony present jump as they stared sullenly into the fire.

“Quake!” Brulee cried out, hopping to his feet and rushing to the edge of the fire. He could swear that he heard rustling in the dry underbrush as he did so. His pinprick-sized eyes searched the darkness, “Quake!” he yelled once more.

Neither of the unicorns said anything, turning their sad faces back to the fire, unsure of what to say.

“We’ve got to go after her!” Brulee asserted, worry and fear clashing with his tone.

“N-no!” Front exclaimed with fright at the mere idea, “I’m not going! Qu-Quake said for us to stay here...by the fire.”

“Yes but…” Pierce hesitated, running a hoof calmingly through Front’s mane, he stared into the fire for a moment, thinking, “...that was...only with the prospect of her getting to Ponyville to get help. With her...well,” he cringed at the thought, his stomach threatening to rise up again as a memory of Blue Skies’ body flashed across his vision, “Maybe...maybe trying to get out of here isn’t such a bad idea after all…”

“But-what!?” Front sputtered, turning her wide eyes to him. Brulee collapsed onto the ground weeping quietly into the soil, “you can’t be serious! W-why would we go out there!” she gestured with a hoof to the shadows outside the fire’s light, “when we’re perfectly safe here!”

“Like Quake said, we won’t be safe here forever,” Pierce continued to stare into the fire, “This fire isn’t going to last forever! Eventually we’re going to have to leave and...well...maybe the sooner the better.”

“You’ve got to be out of your mind if you think it’s okay to just go out there!” Front again jabbed her hoof at the darkness, her voice high pitched and hysterical, “we can’t see out there! They can! What’re we gonna do?”

“We could…” Pierce’s eyes drifted over the fire for an answer, he found one laying within, “take torches!” He pulled a burning stick from the fire, looking over to where Quake had torn up some cloth to extend the life of the one she’d taken. He grabbed some with his magic, creating his own torch in no time.

“That didn’t work for...for Quake!” Front practically cried.

“So what’re we supposed to do!” Pierce yelled, turning back to the other unicorn.

“Oh, god, Quake!” Brulee mumbled into the dirt.

“We can’t wait here! The longer we do the more fucked we are! Even if the fire could last forever, keep them at bay forever; we’re going to run out of supplies if we stay here!” Pierce continued, sudden anger in his eyes, “If you want to stay here, then fine! But I’m going!”

The unicorn began to trot off, limping due to his wound, horn aglow with magical light as he carried his torch over his head, flames dancing at the end of the wood-and-linen construct. He marched past Front, but a caramel hoof crossed his chest, stopping him in place.

Pierce turned, finding Brulee staring back at him, eyes red from crying, lip still trembling a bit.

“Make another one of those torches, will you? I’m coming.”

“What!?” Front cried out, “Y-you can’t be serious! You c-can’t just leave me h-here!”

“Come with us,” Pierce replied, “It’s the only chance we’ve got.”

The three friends, each now holding a torch, had started off into the forest, the same direction Quake had gone. Each kept wary eyes peeled to the darkness, each keeping their heads and torches on a swivel.

A soft wind whispered through the trees above, pulling their branches about to produce creaks and groans. No crickets chirped and no birds sang. No bullfrogs belched and nopony said a word, their fear silencing them.

An occasional flicker of movement just outside their torch’s light painted a bad picture of what would happen to them should their torches go out, occasional glowing eyes glaring with lust and anger towards them.

“H-how many ar-are th-there?” Front asked, ears folded back and tail tucked, her head held low.

“Don’t worry about that, we need to worry about getting out of here,” Pierce replied, eyes searching non-stop, “We’ve still got a long ways to go so-” he was cut off as, in the distance, a spark of light appeared through the invisible trees around them, freezing Pierce in place.

“What? What i-is it?” Front asked as the procession froze to a halt.

“I...I see some light over there!” Pierce exclaimed, “Maybe somepony else is out here!” he raised his torch higher with magic, waving it back and forth in the air above him, “Hello!” he called out.

Silence, the light in the distance didn’t move.

The other two moved up next to Pierce in the ensuing silence.

“I see it too,” Brulee commented.

“W-why aren’t they a-answering?” Front whimpered.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to go check it out,” Pierce asserted, limping forwards.

As they neared the odd light, it continued to stay still, lowering a feeling of unease across the group. Their steps became shorter, quieter, their breaths coming out silently as if it would help them remain undetected.

It was a torch, laying on the ground.

“What?” Pierce inquired.

The torch lay in a patch of dirt, a few blackened leaves laying around it, all smoldering and dead.

“But...what...who…” Front wondered, shaking as she looked around.

“Qu-Quake…” Brulee’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

“What?” Pierce asked, turning to look at his large friend. Both he and Cold Front froze.

Brulee collapsed back on his rump, his torch resting at his hooves.

Quake’s body lay in the light of his torch, it had been torn apart. Her throat had been ripped out, a good half of it nothing more than a massive red mess of muscle. Her dead eyes stared up at the black canopy above, a trail of blood giving her a gasglow-like smile as it flowed from the corners of her mouth.

Her chest cavity had been caved in by some massive force, one of her forelegs missing. Everything below her rib cage was gone, half-eaten organs sliding partway out of what remained of her carcass.

The lower half of her body had been dragged a ways away, a bloody trail leading to it. Pierce’s heartbeat tripled as he noted a timber wolf tearing at the meat of one loose leg. Its gleaming eyes aimed right at them with caution, Front gave a shriek of fear that quickly turned to a gagging sound. More glowing eyes showed in the dark beyond the creature, slanted and glaring.

“W-w-we need to move,” Pierce asserted, Front’s gagging turned into a sickening noise as she began unleashing her stomach’s contents on the ground, her forelegs spread wide to stay clear of the mess and wobbling weakly. Her torch lay off to the side of her, flames licking at the dry ground beneath it.

“Quake...” Brulee mumbled to himself, body shaking with sobs as tears wetted his face, “w-we should-should’ve gone w-with her!”

“I know, but we need to keep going,” Pierce said, feeling his stomach wobble in his gut at the sight of the second dead pony that night, “those things aren’t going to wait much longer and our torches aren’t going to last forever!”

Front’s puking fit ended with a series of spits and dry heaves, tears streaking her face and gunk running from her nose.

“I-I can’t!” she sobbed.

“Yes you can,” Pierce replied, walking a short distance away and turning around to face her, “I know how you feel. I’m the one that discovered…” Pierce grew silent, struggling with something for a moment before he opened his mouth again.

A timber wolf leapt from the darkness, knocking into Pierce’s side and sending his torch flying from the force of the blow. He let out a sharp cry as the creature’s teeth tore into his neck, the cry becoming a gurgle as his wide eyes filled with fear.

Two more leapt onto Brulee, dragging him down as he cried out, their fangs ripping into him and spilling his life-blood onto the ground.

Front screamed, dropping her torch in panic and making a break for it into the darkness as she felt something warm trickling down one hind leg. She galloped blindly, fear numbing pain as branches and brambles tore at her coat as she passed by their invisible forms. She kept up the fearful cries, tears only further blinding her in the dark as she ran smack-dab into a tree, bouncing off and laying still as stars blasted across her vision, leaving her stunned.

Front lay in the dirt for some time, staring up at a few stars as they sparkled through the black canopy above. Fear further lit into her as the adrenaline fueling her blind dash faded, only now did she realize that she’d left her torch behind.

A twig snapped and she cried out into a hoof, muffling the noise. She tried to roll over and get to her hooves, but fear cemented her in place, her pounding heart like an encore of raging drums.

Her eyes snapped from one dark area to the next, finding purchase on nothing but infinite blackness. A bowling ball of pressure was restricting her breathing to silent gasps, her limbs locked so she couldn’t make the slightest sound.

Things began to move in the darkness, shadows against shadows that slipped this way and that before juking back. Front’s brain told her that these were timber wolves, convinced her that if she didn’t move, didn’t make a sound that they would move right past her.

In spite of the simple fact that the smell of their rotten breath was berating her nose.

And it was getting more pungent by the second.

Author's Note

My first time writing a horror/gorefic. Was it good? Bad? I wrote it in a couple of weeks with little editing so it's probably bad.