Sweet Goodbye

The ceiling was crimson. It had burned into her eyes.

She was laying on her back, the soft mattress beneath her.

She was scared. Desperate.

Yet she didn’t move an inch.

It was hopeless. She no longer protested. Pointless.

Her eyes were burning from the tears, which also covered her flaring cheeks.

Her silent, ragged sighs melted together with her weeping into a sound of despair.

She was laid out, her legs spread… Defenceless, vulnerable.

She felt tainted. Guilty.

His hooves pressed into her cutie mark as he lifted her.

He had stopped for a while now.

But he was still inside her. He still parted her lips, he still… Violated her.

Her whole body was in heat. It was all just raw instict that kept her ablaze, especially down there…

Yet she deliberately wished to get to the top.

So this nightmare could end.

The grip on her flank softened, the hooves slowly crawled up her side, and started stroking her.

Her skin was tingling beneath his touch.

It was lust, filled with disgust.

She was trembling beneath him.

They were raking through her.

They wormed on the lower part of her stomach.

As they touched the sensitive buds, she gasped, and her body tightened.

Then they creeped up, up her ribs, through her chest.

They were fondling her neck. On of them hesitatingly stopped, while the other went on to her face.

This made him lean forward. She took her eyes off the ceiling.

The lively blue irises clashed with the dark frame of long black mane.

She couldn’t recall the rest of his face.

She just didn’t want to see his expression.

However, she couldn’t forget his words. She tried to.

But couldn’t.

,,Have you ever thought about it, my darling?”

His voice was also tired. Is it over soon…?

,,There is nopony else here now, but me. Right now… Nopony else cares about you, but me. Nopony else is talking to you, but me. Nopony else can touch you, only me. And nopony can hear you scream, but me…. Right now… Only I know about you. You are mine. Only I can judge you. And only I can decide, what will happen to you next…”

The next sentence was scorched into her mind forever.

,,Now, I am your god.”

The vile hoof left her face, returning next to its brother.

They lined up on the opposite sides of her gullet.

,,So pray for your life!”

At first, she couldn’t comprehend what he meant, what was happening.

Then the pressure reached her mind. It was directed at her throat, blocking her breath…

Blocking her breath!

No matter how hard she tried to get another gasp from the sweaty, yet vital air, nothing got through.

She grabbed his front legs with hers, trying to pull them away, but it was useless.

Her hind legs kicked the air.

Her horn tried to cast sparks, but that damned ring on its stem absorbed any energy that tried to enter.

Her chest shook, as her diaphragm fought convulsively for the desired air… Regardless, they went limp hopelessly.

It wasn’t about just dignity, purity anymore.

Life…

She was going to die…

She was going to die

Panic didn’t improve her situation. She just thirsted for the room’s filthy air even more, from which the hooves parted her. She felt herself slipping away…

He couldn’t kill her… No, he couldn’t just do that!

Something… He said something, he wanted something!

Everything became more and more blurry, the world was spinning with her.

He ordered her to pray…

The hooves which tried to pry her god’s hooves off from her windpipe let go, to fulfill his wishes.

They let out a silent knock, as they pressed against each other.

They were shaking in fear, even together.

He flashed his teeth with a disgusting grin.

,,Good girl.”

He finally let go of her throat.

At first it only opened for a slit, and her first breath was drawn with a loud rattle, then it slowly cleaned and cleaned more.

His front hooves were now placed on her cheeks. They stroked her gently, wiping off the mixture of tears and makeup.

The wild switching between punishment and endearment drove her insane.

He pulled back, leaving her sight, and she glued her eyes back on the ceiling, staring at is emptily.

He grabbed her once again, then she felt him move.

He swung his hips and continued right where he left off.

Her breathing was once again filled with gasps and sighs, together with her almost muted crying.

But at least they were proceeding again. Slowly, surely, towards the end…

The pulsation in her stomach quickened, and suddenly ceased, together with his movements.

A new feeling followed. Hotness.

With each of his pushes, her womb was filled with the liquid warmth.

She couldn’t get those nauseating, satisfied moans out from her head.

He stopped again. He was gasping.

Then he left her. Even his touch ceased.

She could close again, and be alone.

By herself, broken, scared, unsure and tainted.

Her heart was still beating heavily. Her body, sparkling from sweat, begged for satisfaction yet she had not reached the end—she had been abandoned mercilessly.

In her mind, however, even if slightly, she was relieved.

It was over.

He wouldn’t stomp on her any further, she was already trampled. She wouldn’t break her any further, she was already broken.

There would be no fresh pain, only the thorns already inside her.

Or so she thought.

Something lit up in her left thigh.

It pierced, strained, cleaved at her flesh. It was as intense as unexpected.

She gagged on the breaths caught in her throat, but finally, after what seemed like minutes of torture, she found the strength to scream.

Then the blade left her flesh, a short, weak scream following, like the bow being yanked at the violin.

She once again felt dripping heat, this time on her skin, and from the pulsation, she knew exactly that it was her own blood.

She saw him bend over her again in the edge of his vision. She wouldn’t dare to turn towards him.

His hoof clashed against her chin, pushing her head back, then she felt the cold, wet metal being pointed at her throat.

The resurfacing fear of death and the pain in her thigh made her weep even louder and more desperately.

Her front legs lifted from the blanket, but she didn’t try to push him away.

He surely would cut her throat.

No, she didn’t want to die!

,,P-please, don’t…” she sobbed in a tormented voice, miserably. She was still young, her recently defiled, sorrowful life was to her like a piece of dry bread to a stray dog.

There was still more, there had to be. She didn’t know where, how, but there had to be…

,,I’ll call the ambulance, and you’ll get a lift from them,” he told her in a monotone voice. ,,But you won’t tell anything to them. Nor to anybody else, got it?”

She nodded.

,,You promise?”

,,I-I promise!”

,,Good. If your little mouth gets loose anyway, then I’m going to find you, sooner than the police would find me, and you can be damn sure you’re going to wish that I cut your throat here and now!”

While talking, he started pulling the knife down on her throat. He didn’t press it in, it didn’t pierce, but it was noticeably touching her. She couldn’t even dare to swallow.

,,Thank me!” he demanded.

,,Thank you…” she obeyed in a shaking tone. She despised it.

The weapon left her throat.

He kissed her on the mouth.

She didn’t even try to stop the invading tongue, even if it upset her stomach.

Then he broke every contact with her, stood up, turned around and in a mere second the door opened and closed, letting in some fresh, cold air.

She was still just sobbing silently. She looked down at her legs in fear.

When she saw her leg and the sheets stained with blood, it was as if the pain turned worse too.

She started crying aloud.

She unconsciously dropped onto the bathroom floor, laying against the tub. Never before had she experienced such a large rush of memories.

As he had promised, not much later she really had got help. They had collected her miserable, desecrated body from there and had given her immediate care. They all had known right away what happened, nevertheless she still defied them, and told them she couldn’t remember who had done it, and that she had been alright.

She had done exactly as he ordered.

She had barely kept in touch with her friends afterwards. She had been afraid of what would happen, if after a simple run in, a casual chat, they would figure it out? Or if he had thought she told somepony and killed her? Or not even only her? She couldn’t have dared to risk it.

Even though, if she had, it wouldn’t have come to this. In the following weeks, she had only blamed herself, that she let it happen, she acted in a way that… She had felt guilty, and was convinced she didn’t deserve forgiveness. Nopony could have told her the opposite…

It had only been the scar as a suppoter. She had to face it every single day. No matter how she had tried to hide it, ignore it, she couldn’t avoid feeling it sometimes. However, this had helped her to forge her guilt and fear into something else.

Hatred.

Towards the traitor, who had stolen her heart, crushed it, then poured the shards into her body.

She had slowly realised that the blame was not truly her own, and that all along she had been merely his puppet. He had said he was her god, and she accepted it, started fearing him, thinking that his almighty gaze reached everywhere, so she could never sin, or break his holy laws, because then only damnation and retaliation would await.

However, the wound had told her the truth.

He wasn’t a god, merely a tyrant. Mortal flesh and blood.

If she would end him, she would be free.

This was the reminder she needed.

Her bag was still heavy.

She stood up and left the bathroom.

He was sitting in the kitchen with his back against the wall. In front of him a small round wooden table, with a rectangular glass bottle on it, in which a bit of orange-ish liquid substance resided, most likely an alcoholic drink. Both on his side and the opposite was a rather generic, round glass, with some booze already poured into each.

His face once again lit up from indifferency as he saw the mare returning.

,,You’re not exactly reluctant to make me wait, are you?”

His joking was received without reaction. She silently sat down on the pillow on her side of the table.

,,I never had thought we’d meet again… Sadly only this tiny bit of whiskey was at home.”

He picked up his glass.

,,Bottoms up!”

He lifted it to his mouth and drank.

Fleur wrapped her magic around her dose hesitatingly.

It reminded her of the drink on that certain night.

It had seemed like harmless red wine.

Savory, just another little pleasure, a bit of narcotism.

Then everything had started to blur. She had felt weak.

He had offered that she may lie down a bit in his bathroom…

The black maned stallion was consuming his part, when he heard some strange noise.

When he placed his empty glass down, he noticed that his old friend is simply tilting her glass sideways, pouring its contents onto the wooden floor.

Then it went silent. Only a few drops fell below from its brim.

His face also darkened.

The mood tensed.

Complete silence followed.

The violet eyes were slowly, thoughtfully exploring the empty glass’ walls. They saw from their corners that the cold blue eyes glared straight at them, but she knew that as soon as she stared back, the dance would begin.

Another drop…

And another…