Rainbow Dash stumbled; her hooves striking hard against the damp stone. She didn't feel her flesh scrapped away from her hooves as she struggled desperately to stand. She placed a steadying hoof against the moisture covered brick wall and blindly pushed onwards.
Her breath came out in ragged gasps, the heat of her exhalations hitting the cold air, gathering in small puffs of transparent white mist vanishing into the darkness.
She needed to get away; escape her pursuer before he caught up to her. Her vision wavered and she wasn't sure if it was because the tunnel was dimly lit, or if it was because her vision was actually beginning to failing her.
Using her right hoof, she placed it against the wall to guide her staggering movements; a heavy trail of crimson smeared across the earth-toned brick behind her like a macabre arrow, pointing the direction she had come and where she had gone.
Her other hoof was desperately clutching her throat in a valiant effort to try to stem the crimson tide that pumped up more and more of her precious life blood out of her body with every fluttering beat of her straining heart.
Pushing away from the wall, she staggered back the way she had come, doubling back slightly and taking a smaller, narrower passage, hoping that she would be able to conceal the direction she had gone, her pursuer following the bloody trail Rainbow had left on the wall to lead him the way from where she had gone.
Making her way slowly in the dark, she tried not to touch the walls as she waded through deep, stagnant water, hoping to keep her presence concealed.
The sewer floor suddenly vanished from beneath her hooves as she stepped out into nothingness; an endless black hole from which she would never return.
Falling forward she tumbled onto her side, sliding and rolling through mud and refuse slicked debris, before finally coming to rest at the bottom of some sort of embankment.
She may have lost consciousness for a moment, she wasn't sure, but her world had gone frighteningly dark, and when she opened her eyes, her world remained that way.
Trying to repress a cry of agony, a pathetic whimper managed to creep past her lips parched lips anyway.
Gathering herself she tried to move, tried to do anything but sit and wait to either die, or have her pursuer find her.
Move damn it, move! she screamed at herself inside her head as she forced her failing body to reach out with a shaking hoof and drag her broken body through the cold, slick mud and rancid filth she had fallen into.
She felt tears of bitter frustration sting her eyes as her wings spasmed, trying to claw her wings into the muck and drag herself forward a few feet more.
Biting back another cry of pain as every nerve ending she had in her body lit up in agony, she was able to pull herself forward a measly few inches. Ignoring the pain, she forced herself to again repeat the action, her wings scraping against what could only be a tunnel wall.
The space she occupied felt small and enclosed, as if she had fallen into some sort of collection point or unused water reservoir, and she couldn't get out.
She was trapped.
Closing her eyes in grim resignation, she rolled onto her side, her breath catching in her throat as agony blazed across her chest. She made another pathetic whimpering noise and hated herself for it.
She refused to go out like some sniveling, pitiful coward.
Using the wall for support she managed to drag herself up so that her carapace was leaning against the wall. A chocked sob escaped her bloodied lips; pain ripping tiny trails of blood red agony across her body. She took in a rattling gasp of air' vicious razors tearing into her delicate lungs causing her to choke and struggle for breath.
Is it supposed to be this hard to breathe? she wondered to herself in confusion.
Taking in another shuddering breath, she let out a cry of agony as stars exploded before her eyes as tears of frustration rolled down her cold cheeks.
She closed her eyes; the sound of her heart pounding in her chest filled the small space.
Is my heart slowing? Was the previous beat just that much slower than the last? she questioned herself furiously.
She pushed harder upon the laceration that had torn through the sensitive skin of her throat. She was no doctor but she was pretty sure more than just skin, muscle, and tendons have been cut.
Turning her attention from this, she realized that the blindness that engulfed her seemed to heighten all of her other senses; almost painfully so. She could hear the faint drip of water upon metal some distance away and the smooth roll of moisture running down stone walls. She could smell the scent of her own sweat, blood, and the stench of sewage; biting, and bitter. She could feel the rough texture of brick behind her wings and the slime encrusted floor, rife with unknown debris, waste and mud that had begun to leach a cold, clinging numbness across her coat and into her flesh. But beneath all of this, she could smell the salt from her own frustrated, unwanted tears, and feel the warm damp they produced down her cheeks.
Steel bands of pressure suddenly wrapped their unforgiving, painful grip across her body, making her breath catch in her throat, a gurgle of frothy blood trickling from between her lips as she chocked on it.
She tried to stifle the sound, its echo bouncing off of the curved walls, possibly alerting her pursuer to her location.
Listening, she thought she could detect the faint splash of a hoof striking water, the pace quickening, purposeful; almost frantic.
Are the hoofsteps getting closer? she silently asked herself as she strained to determine if the rapid sound of running through a series of water drenched tunnels was getting closer, or further away.
She strained her hearing to its limit, trying to quiet her breathing and ignore the gentle beating of her heart, the rhythm melodic; frighteningly so. The low cadence was soothing, almost hypnotizing; lulling her into a deep sleep from which she would never awaken.
Rainbow Dash finally only detected silence. She concluded that her mind was obviously playing tricks on her, making her believe that her pursuer was close, when in reality; she was alone; completely and utterly.
She opened her eyes, her vision managing to pierce the inky darkness enough to allow her to view her surrounding and confirm her impression of a small circular hole.
She leaned her head back against the cool, damp brick wall, clenching her jaw together and reaching out a shaking hoof, attempting to gain enough purchase to haul herself to her feet. She slowly pulled her back right leg against her chest, straining to accomplish what should have been such a simple task.
Using the wall as support she pushed up against it, forcing her protesting muscles to obey her desperate commands to move, to run, and to get further away. But her effort was to be in vain. Her hooves slid upon the muck that covered the ground, the slight progress she had made in lifting herself up off the ground, only increasing her pain filled agony as she crashed back to it.
The air was driven forcefully from her lungs and lights danced before her eyes. At that moment she came to the grim realization that she didn't have enough strength in her to try again.
She was going to die in a filthy hole, alone and in the dark. She smiled bitterly to herself, thinking that her death was somewhat fitting. She had lived almost all of her life, hidden, within and living in the dark, without anyone knowing or caring that she existed, and now, she would die there, almost no one wiser of her experience or her death. A brief life extinguished with brutal violence, which was the same way with which she had lived.
She managed to let out a mirthless chuckle, though it sounded more like a chocked cry of regret.
Closing her eyes, she listened to the pained wheezing of her struggling breaths, wondering how close her killer was to finding her, or if her killer had even bothered to pursue her.
The last thought intrigued her slightly.
Has her killer known she had already delivered the mortal blow, and had not bothered to pursue her fleeing victim? Or had she pursued, wanting to make sure she finished the job she had begun, and had managed to lose her within the winding twisting tunnels of the city's sewer system?
She listened to the sounds around her, her body becoming oddly numb, her thoughts more clouded, less clear and coherent.
Balling up her free hoof into a fist, she slammed it into the wall behind her, jarring her injuries. She drew in a sharp, painful intake of breath, and let out a quick hiss, followed by a curse. She tried to draw in another breath and found that her chest felt even tighter than it had before.
She forced herself to ignore the pain and take in a gasp of air. which didn't seem to help her breathlessness.
She snarled angrily. She didn't want to go out like this. If she was going to die, she wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, taking as many of her enemies with her as she went. She hadn't planned on dying, slumped up against a brick wall, covered in mud and waste; tears of despair rolling down her cold, numb cheeks.
But she hadn't stayed to fight. She hadn't fought back as hard as she should have. She hadn't gone in for the kill when the opportunity had presented itself. Instead, she had hesitated, and that hesitation, that lack of resolve, of conviction, had left her open and vulnerable.
Her killer had taken full advantage of Rainbow's split second indecision; that singular realization that if Rainbow Dash made that move, performed that brutal, deadly action, there would be no going back. It would be an action that could not be undone, and she could not allow herself to bear that kind of heavy burden.
Her killer had seen the opportunity, a weakness in her opponents defenses, and trained fighter that she was, did not hesitate; not for a single moment. She moved in for the kill, her movements sure, skillful and true.
When steel pierced weak, delicate flesh, Rainbow Dash had done the only thing she could, she ran.
She ran for several reasons, and not because she was a coward. She could face death head on and not bat an eye, was prepared for it; had always been prepared for that singular, final eventuality. But she had convinced herself that she had to run because she had believed she could escape her attacker, and if she managed to get away, she would be able to recover, heal, and fight another day. But deep down, Rainbow Dash knew that this was a lie. She knew the blow that had been struck was a mortal one, and that her time had become finite. She was dying, and by running, she was going to accomplish one last desperate act before she finally died; she was going to conceal her death.
She knew she was still too close to where she and her killer had fought, but it was the best she could do, trapped as she was within this filthy hole. She was going to leave her killer with the belief that Rainbow Dash had managed to escape, and that she was still alive, somewhere, out there. Whether plotting her revenge or just healing, her killer would believe that she was still alive.
And that was going to be her final act; her eloquent, poignant gesture.
Trying to move her head, she found that she could only move it very slightly, her limbs having long since gone numb, the cold creeping into her flesh, her bone and finally, into her very soul. She stared into the dimly lit darkness, realizing that her hoof had long since slipped away from her throat, lying limply at her side; her precious life slipping away by seconds. Each beat of her heart was like a tick of a timer, counting down the very last moments of her life.
She took in a slight, rattling whisper of breath, her limbs heavy, heart faint. The sounds of running hoofsteps through damp tunnels echoed around her, coming closer. A voice raised in hue and cry, the voice of her murder bouncing and sliding along the circular tunnel walls that had become her unwanted resting place.
Rainbow Dash felt her vision grow dark, the painful agony she had been enduring seeming to dim as her final breath exited her now still lungs.
A figure leapt in front of her, mud and waste slopping onto her legs, not that she could feel this, but she was dimly aware that this action had occurred.
Her heartbeat fluttered, giving one last, final, pitiful, desperate pump before growing still.
Her final act, not made out of hate or fear, but of love, ultimately in vain.
Rainbow's vision faded completely. The final image burned into her very soul, was the pegasus filly of her killer, her murderer...her sister.
Scootaloo.
Author's Note
Tissue, anyone?
