The Small, Gray Horse

The Small, Gray Horse

A man sat alone in front of his computer in the dark of his room late one night in early March, trolling around on image boards. This man was rather filthy, wearing a grease-stained white t-shirt and sweatpants that clearly hadn’t been washed in weeks. One could practically see the stench of months without a shower coming off of him, and the gruff beard dawning his misshapen face says he hasn’t shaved since then either.

The desk top surrounding his computer was covered in chip bags and empty cans of Red Bull. The rest of his room was in a similar state of filth with trash strewn across the floor, bed sheets disheveled, and thick cobwebs coving the tops of the walls and corners of the room. It was very apparent that only he had come in or out of the room for quite a long time.

The man stops to take a swig of a half-empty Red Bull, when a soft ping alerts him to a new email. The Red Bull was left forgotten when the man sees it is from a college of his with the topic title “THIS IS DISGUSTING AND SHOULD BE STOPED”. He opens it to find only a link attached. Opening the link he finds the following article.

“THE 413th ANNUAL FOREST GUARDIAN FESTIVAL: This year’s Forest Guardian was held last Saturday to honor the ever present Ditsy Doo, who…”

At that point, he had stopped reading and was instead staring at the picture attached to said article. It was of a statue of a horse, a small gray pegasus to be more precise. The pegasus’s mane and tail were a straw-like blond, but caught his attention the most was its amber, wall-eyed stare.

That stare made his blood boil and his face contort into a sneer. How dare that horse be different!  Doesn’t it know by being cross-eyed it will offend people with learning disabilities!?! He quickly replied to his college.

“Hans,

Thanks for bringing this abomination to my attention.

Notify the others that you are all to meet me at this forest in 3 days.

This will be our group’s biggest mission to date.

Infinitive Leader, Lonk Petchman”

Lonk leaned back in his chair, grinning maliciously. In his own sick, twisted mind, he was making a more tolerant place. He has never been more wrong about anything in his life