Child of the (Beholder) Mare

by Dragonborne Fox

Rating: mature
Tags: Tragedy, Alternate Universe, Sad, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sex
Length: 3525

A young foal, born without parents and with the mistakes they made to create it...how will it fare in a cold world?

A young foal, born into a world that took both parents from it. How will it live, when the mistakes of those who made it exist affect it even after they are gone?

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Yep. A sequel. We're all going to die. A rather sad take on the installment, and is very likely to bring up controversial topics which gave it a mature rating, as well as sex and gore tags. Only mentions of clop and violence will be brought up, and in vivid detail. Viewer discretion is advised. Updates will be irregular.

Published 2014-08-21 20:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-28 11:37:26 UTC

I

Child of the (Beholder) Mare
Written by Dragonborne Fox

Dungeons lit in torches and moonlight hung in eerie silence, each individual cell housing scarred killers, demented rapists, and scheming con artists. All souls, save for that of a mare, were sound asleep. The mare, light grey coat and dark red mane disheveled in filth that was illuminated in the light of the moon that came from a terribly small window, looked towards the ceiling with tired eyes. Orange, rock-like structures protruded from her backside, and were lined in as many shackles as those adorning her hooves and neck.

A single, sharp spiral protruded from her forehead, and it too was bound in iron. Her azure eyes blinked but once, and she lowered her head as a sigh escaped her lips. She looked towards her engorged stomach, round and plump, and a tear fell from her eyes.

A pang of pain hit her chest, and she winced in response. Another tear fell from her eyes, hitting the cold stone floor without a sound.

An image flashed in her mind, one with three stallions. Two were pegasi, and one was an alicorn. The four had been drinking the night away, and had a bit of fun with poker. She recalled bringing the alicorn and letting him have his way with her, before it went hazy. She hadn’t known exactly what had happened after; all she knew was she had awoken in the dungeon the next morn, soaked in blood.

She looked towards the mirror above the sink that the dungeon provided, and in the light of the moon, she saw her reflection. A third eye sat under her horn, three pupils of brown and sclera of sickly yellow, that did not match the two azure orbs on her face. Still more appendages were bound to the wall by chains, splayed wide like twisted wings, and a darker, glossier red than her own mane.

She looked away, still shedding more tears. Every single time she looked in the mirror, she had gotten uglier, and it had caused her to wonder where exactly she had gone wrong. She looked to her side, eyes blurring from the tears, and she saw the base of the rock structures and twisted wings held firm by iron binds. The mare could barely see her cutie mark now, an orb of fire with three Z’s in it.

Hooves beating against the stone hit her ears, but the sound was faint. She turned to the door of her cell, wiping away the tears with her hoof. She didn’t know who made that sound, and her ears fell flat on her skull.

The sound of something hitting the iron doors encroached her ears, and her heart almost immediately stopped beating, though only for a second. The sound persisted a few times before pausing for a fleeting moment, each time after accompanied by brief beating of stone by hooves.

And then, the sound of something hitting the door resounded so close by the mare could practically feel her body quake. Her cell door bounced a bit as the sound occurred once more before a hoof clad in gold threw it wide open. Standing behind was a white pegasus stallion decked out in gold armor, piercing blue eyes staring right at the mare as if brimming with loathing.

“You should be asleep, Crimsonflame.” He said quickly, the frown on his face telling the mare he didn’t approve of her.

The mare didn’t respond. She stared at the stallion, her ears still flat on her skull.

“Florarena. Get in bed.” The stallion repeated, his mouth opening to reveal gritting teeth.

Florarena still didn’t respond. She may as well have been a statue.

The stallion growled, then grabbed the door with his hoof and closed it. “You shall not have your food tomorrow then.” He hissed before trotting away, pausing briefly to hit the other cell doors with something to ensure that the other prisoners were asleep. It was then the mare had moved, the appendages attached to her backside that had been splayed out suddenly writhing to life as though they had been snakes.

One by one, the shackles came off with terrific ease as the appendages coated them in an odd, clear secretion, dropping to the floor with a hollow metallic echo resounding afterwards. Then, the appendages grasped the chains on neck, hooves, rocks, and horn before pulling. The metal snapped in two pieces, and she rose onto all fours. The sound of hooves hitting the floor hit her ears again, and her door was flung open once more by the same stallion who had left but moments ago.

“Crimsonflame, put your chains back on at once!” He barked, flaring his wings wide with a scowl adorning his face. The mare took a step forward, her own appendages still writhing about in a serpentine manner. She didn’t flinch once.

“Crimsonflame! Either seat yourself at once or become subject to punishment by the guard!” The stallion yelled once more, only to watch as Florarena took another step forward, a scowl coming into fruition on her own face. All three of her eyes narrowed, and her horn was now glowing orange in color. She took another step, and another, until she was face to face with the stallion.

“You will contain me no more.” Florarena said, her voice having a demonic undertone as her appendages shot towards the stallion like rockets, grasping him by the neck, legs, and wings within seconds. His eyes widened, and he flailed about to no avail as his limbs were broken in a tightening grip. His scream aroused all the other prisoners, who had then began to beat on their cell doors as if a riot was about to unfold.

The appendages then twisted the neck of the stallion and she tossed his limp, broken body aside like a useless twig. The mare then closed her eyes and an orange aura bathed her entire body, and she vanished in a bright light.

A bright light flashed briefly in a moonlit forest clearing whose thick branches and gnarling shrubs that was perched next to a small town. When it vanished, Florarena had stood, and she looked around with wary eyes. Despite the beams of moonlight that shot through the clouds and the fact the area was open, the place was still very much dark.

The clouds receded, and the moon let its light hit the area full force. Then, the mare yelped in surprise as a horrendous pain assaulted her stomach and lower quarters. The feeling hit her again, and her hooves slipped from under her frame. She landed on her side clumsily, the grass providing an impromptu cushion to her fall.

The pain hit her once more, and she grit her teeth to keep another yelp at bay. Her twisted, serpentine appendages aided her as she forced herself to stand back up. She shot her gaze skyward, only to be greeted with a full moon and flying silhouettes overhead. Her eyes widened, and she silently cursed her luck as she turned to the thick undergrowth that surrounded her and remained in the cover of darkness.

She kicked her legs into gear, bounding past the shrubs and branches as if partaking in a stampede, her serpentine appendages flowing behind her like a long slick mane. Another couple of pangs of pain hit her, but she wasn’t deterred in the slightest as she kept running through the forest like her hooves were on fire.

But here, the darkness was against her. Florarena tripped over a branch she didn’t see, landing face-first in the dirt afterwards. She tried to get up again, and failed thanks to an even worse pang of pain that hit her right on the nerves.

“Dammit.” The mare groaned weakly, trying to rise once more. Her serpentine limbs supported her, and she continued onwards, albeit at a much slower pace. The forest was silent, save for her ragged breaths and crunching of leaves and twigs under hooves. She felt a warm liquid trickle down her hind legs, and her eyes narrowed briefly before widening and threatening to release tears.

The name of the stallion who had his way with her came to mind, and she murmured it as though unconscious.

“Genesis.”

Florarena scrunched her eyes shut and let her form fall to the ground, and she lay next to the darkened roots of a tree whose branches overshadowed her form. Another pang of pain hit her, and the tears began to fall from her face.

A few moments passed, and then hours. During this time, the mare grunted and shuddered in pain, a warm liquid that rapidly cooled pooling underneath and around her hind legs. The mare felt something unusually large part her inner walls inside-out, and she was certain that a portion of that something was already dangling outside of her hind quarters uselessly. Her serpentine limbs helped her to pull it out somewhat; she couldn’t push it out.

At last, more liquid flooded out her backside as the limbs finally pried the thing loose from her birth canal. They laid it on a dry part of the forest bed, and Florarena’s vision began to blur and fade, and her breathing more sparse, as shouting and hooves crunching leaves and twigs hit her ears. Her head fell to the makeshift pillow of tree roots, and tears fell from her eyes as she closed them.

Her last breath left her. She was now a curled up husk bathed in darkness. A soft light soon hit her body, but it didn’t belong to the moon. A unicorn stallion clad in gold armor looked at her, his horn aura moving aside the limbs attached to her midsection, revealing that she was now terribly bone-thin. She didn’t move once, eyes closed tight with fresh tears still on her face.

“The monster chose to die here than by execution?” He asked aloud, eyes narrowing at the sight of the husk. “But why?”

It was then he heard the unmistakable sound of an infant crying. He darted his head frantically, only to lay eyes upon a foal, still damp and with umbilical cord attached. The pelt was black, the mane red. A horn was on its forehead, and it opened its eyes to reveal that they were azure. The little one also had a third eye, as well as orange rocks and serpentine limbs similar to those of Florarena, albeit smaller, on its backside.

An aura grasped the foal, and lifted it to the stallion’s face. His eyes widened at the rather odd child. “So...that mishap of a spell affected you too?” He asked, arching a brow. He quickly produced a blanket and wrapped it around the foal and trotted away posthaste, but not before giving its deceased mother a final glance and short-lived scoff.

The mare remained still as ever. A crow soon flew to her body, cawing as it pecked at her lifeless form.

“A macabre end for a twisted murderess like she.” The stallion murmured as he trotted away into the night, carrying with him her child.

II

Seven or eight years had passed since that night, and during that time, the foal (who was confirmed a colt) had found itself placed in an orphanage. The other fillies and colts mocked him day by day, largely in part due to his odd colors and the fact he possessed limbs and structures the others didn’t. He was used to most of it by now, though something did pester him nonstop: how did he even attain his rocks and serpentine appendages in the first place?

He woke up, shifting in his bed and opening his three groggy, sleep-fogged eyes. Something seemed off about the place today, but his vision was blurred and he couldn’t put his hoof on what it was. He rubbed two of his eyes with a hoof, being careful to avoid the third, before he propped himself up with his front legs. He glanced around, seeing that the other fillies and colts were still sound asleep.

The black-pelted colt sighed, looking at his sides. The rocks held strong on his body, almost as if small mountains, and his serpentine, red limbs didn’t writhe at all. Rather, they folded against his body like impromptu wings. He soon let his head greet the pillow again, third eye blinking lazily as his two blue eyes closed.

“Get up, fillies and colts! Get up, I say!” Called the voice of an old mare. In an instant, everyone jumped out of bed and stood attentively in two rows of single file. The owner of the voice, a decrepit unicorn with greying yellow pelt and grey mane flowing past her shoulders, stood at the other end of the room. She sauntered between the rows, eying all the children intently.

Upon reaching the end of the rows, she turned around and eyed them again. The room was silent, save for her hooves as they touched the floor. She reached the end of the rows again, and turned to face them. “Quite a few of you are going to get adopted today. I’m not sure how many, but I can say this: behave. You understand?” She stated.

The fillies and colts nodded attentively. There were smiles lingering with hope on their faces, and their eyes widened in enthusiasm. The mare then stepped aside, and the foals trotted eagerly to the door with the odd colt going last. As soon as he was about trot past, though, the mare lit up her horn and grabbed him in a teal aura before pulling him back.

“You’re not going anywhere past this building. Not with those rocks and ugly tentacles sticking out of your back! Who’d want to adopt a cretin like you?” She hissed, a frown on her face.

The colt turned his head to look at her, eyes threatening to release tears. He shook at the remark, and his ears fell flat. “W-why?” He asked, tentacles suddenly writhing to life in erratic movements.

“I was told to keep you here until all the other normal foals got adopted. Then, ponies will show up here--ponies who will remove your hideous blemishes and unnatural black coat.” The mare answered, the frown turning into a scowl.

“B-but I like my rocks, coat and tentacles!” The colt protested, tears falling down his face and hitting the floor. His tentacles still writhed erratically, their movements turning more violent.

“Too bad, kid. They’ll be removed anyway.” The mare replied before releasing him, turning tail and sauntering out the door.

The colt fell on his rump, his tears still hitting the floor. He shook as he cried, murmuring “You don’t have rocks, a black coat, and tentacles like I do, you big meanie...besides, I think they’re cool.” His tentacles stopped their violent movements and folded neatly at his sides, almost as if embracing him in an odd way. His third eye twitched, then blinked.

He turned to the window opposite of the door, and his ears perked at the sound of hooves hitting wood. He turned around as the door swung open, revealing that mean old cranky mare once more. “Come downstairs and get your breakfast.” She said before turning around and closing the door again.

Instead, the colt got up and wiped his tears away with a hoof before going to the window. He raised up on his hind legs and peered outside, seeing many ponies trotting in the streets below. All of them had smiles on their faces as they went about their day, some buying things and others selling said things. Some even trotted alongside foals who were also smiling.

The colt moved away from the window, turning around to see the empty beds and the door mocking him. He heard the fillies and colts downstairs, though faintly. He took a glance around the room again before his tentacles splayed wide as an idea hit him. The colt opened the window, then took every single blanket and tied them from one end to the next, producing a long and thick rope of cloth. He tied one end to a bedpost, and used his tentacles and body to maneuver said bedpost next to the window. This took a few minutes, but he was able to pull through in the end.

He flung the rope out the window, checking to make sure the knot tied to the bedpost held firm with his tentacles. He climbed out, holding the rope with his hooves and tentacles, inching his way closer and closer to the ground. After the cautious effort, he found himself in an alleyway. Without a second thought, he began to ran as fast and as far as his legs could carry him, not caring about the ponies he passed who gawked at him as he escaped.

As a matter of fact, the colt barely watched where he was going. His stomach growled, wanting to be fed, but that would have to wait. He kept on going, past houses and ponies with jaws hanging open at his appearance, not even noticing he had entered a dense woodland until he found a clearing with a pond.

The colt fell down, gasping for breath as his lungs burned from his marathon. His legs ached so bad even the slightest twitch would coax tears from his eyes. His tentacles began to writhe to life once more, as if sensing his distress, and slowly hoisted him up like extra pairs of slick legs. They dragged him past the pond and deeper into the forest, past a few trees before they too gave out.

The odd little pony lay near a tree, trying to collect himself and hopefully manage to keep his tentacles and rocks. “Forget...what the meanies say…” He huffed, more tears leaking from his eyes as he sniveled. “I don’t wanna be like them…” A gust of wind ran past his ears, but it sounded like...

“You don’t have to be like them.” Rang a voice.

The colt languidly rose his head, thinking he was hearing things. As empty as his stomach was, and how much he ran today, that was very much possible. The voice, which sounded like that of a mare’s, spoke again.

“Why did you come here, though?”

The colt couldn’t answer, at least for the moment. The voice spoke for a third time.

“You said something about ‘the meanies.’ Who are these supposed ‘meanies?’”

“The other fillies and colts at the orphanage...and that mean mare who runs that place too…” The colt sniveled, letting his head greet the undergrowth once more. “They hate me...because of my rocks and tentacles and coat…so I wanted to get away...and here I am...”

“Well, screw them!” The voice seemed to protest, given its choice of words. It was hard to tell since it was disembodied, though. “Let them think whatever! It’s your body, you do what you want with it as long as you don’t hurt anypony else!”

“The mean old mare won’t let me get adopted...she said ponies would make me normal...I like the way I am…” The colt replied, more tears still leaking from his eyes.

“That’s worrying.” The voice stated, an audible sigh escaping from the invisible owner soon after that. Time froze for a second as the sound of leaves and twigs crunching under hooves resounded very close by. The tree roots the colt was next to suddenly sprang to life, quickly covering his form from the cruel world.

“Be quiet.” The voice said, and though he was internally panicking, the colt did as told. His ears perked, zeroing in on other voices that made themselves known in this forest.

“Little bugger wants nothin’ to do with being normal.” Hissed a masculine voice.

“Well, fuck what he wants!” Protested another, “He’s just a kid! When we find him, and make him like all the other ponies, he’ll thank us when he’s older!”

“I almost can’t believe he wants to grow up like his drunken, rapist, murdering-in-cold-blood mother! The sooner we find his sorry, scrawny ass, the better we’ll all be!” Hollered a third. The colt could barely make out at least three stallions decked out in armor beyond his hiding spot. He hadn’t known about either of his parents, but was what had just been said about his mom really true?

“What if he goes suicidal after we turn him to normal?” Asked a fourth armored pony, trotting away with the others.

“Then the whole nation of Equestria’s a happier place! The Crimsonflame bloodline’s full of nothing but bad ponies, and since he’s a part of it, the more the merrier!” Answered the third. As they walked away, their conversation got harder and harder to make out.

A few moments passed after that, and the tree roots parted ways, letting the colt crawl out into the forest again. He looked around, ears catching another sound.

The sound of something carving wood.

He turned around and found a single word being etched into the trunk of the tree he hid under by one of the roots.

“RUN.”