On the other hoof

(Author's note: This will be where the little bloody part is. you have been warned.)

Octavic searched around the room like crazy. The water level continued to rise, slowly but deadly. At first Octavic was able to dig while standing up, but once the water level was high enough, he had to go up to take breaths and then dive to keep digging. Time was running out and Octavic didn't have any choice. He just had to keep digging, until he found Octavia.

And suddenly, he saw something grey underneath the pile of broken wooden frames. It was Octavia's hoof! He saw the light of hope and dug even faster. His hoof had started to bleed from all of the digging, but he didn't stop. He didn't even feel the pain since his mind was too busy worrying about Octavia.

After a few seconds, he finally managed to pull Octavia out of the wreckage. He pulled her out of the water and then sighed at the sight.

Octavia was unconscious, but she was still holding the cello box in her arms as if it was the most important thing ever.

He looked at the sea from the broken wooden frame. The storm had calmed down a little, and he was able to see tiny dots out in the ocean. Those must have been the lifeboats, and they were not too far away. If he could carry Octavia over there, they would be fine.

Although it would be much easier if he left the cello behind, Octavic put both Octavia and her cello on his back. If Octavia thought that the cello was more important than her life, then he would save it too, no matter how ridiculous that idea sounded.

He half walked, half swam through the corridors, and then climbed up the stairs. The dining hall was now completely empty, and Octavic could see that the water level was rising rapidly. The boat would completely sink in no more than five minutes, but that was enough for Octavic to get out of that living hell. He started to walk towards the door leading to the deck, but then suddenly there was another loud breaking sound, followed by a series of cracking sounds. The ceiling of the dining hall had begun to collapse as well, and the huge crystal light in the middle of the room fell down on Octavic. The last thing he remembered doing was lifting his back to make Octavia fall off, and pushing her away from him as far as he could. Then he heard a loud "bang", and the crystal chandelier landed on him. A rather large piece hit his head and his mind went fuzzy. Everything was spinning around him, his hearing becoming blurry, and he felt like throwing up. He could not think straight and suddenly his world went black. He laid there and passed out.

Suddenly, he felt that there was something freezing touching his legs. He fought with the severe headache and opened his eyes. Everything still appeared kind of blurry and unsteady, but at least he was able to see. He looked around him and saw the fallen chandelier right next to him. The freezing feeling was from the water, which had risen enough to cover his ankle. He quickly remembered everything: Octavia, her rejection, the deck, the rising and falling of the ocean, the storm. Breaking out of his daze, he turned his neck and saw Octavia on the far side of the room, away from the chandelier. She was still unconscious, but seemed uninjured, otherwise. Octavic looked at the water. They still had a few minutes before the boat completely sank... They still had a chance.

Octavic shook his head to make his thoughts clear. He couldn't carry both Octavia and her cello, so he needed to find some sort of wooden board to support the weight Luckily enough, they were surrounded by a lot of wreckage. He decided to get up and get to work. He put his back legs onto the tilted floor and put his right hoof on the ground as well, but then he realized that he couldn't move his left hoof. He tried again. It didn't move and he felt pain. He looked to the direction to where his left hoof was, and he couldn't believe what he saw.

The chandlier had luckily missed and had not killed him, but his left hoof was stuck under the pile of broken glass. Looking closer, he saw that his hoof was underneath a huge piece of metal, stuck between two bent metal bars.

He couldn't move.

Octavic quickly grabbed a metal bar and tried to bend it. It didn't work, and it also added to the pain. The skin on his hoof had been scraped off, and blood had started to run down his front arm.

"Help! Anypony here? HELP!" Octavic yelled in despair, hoping somepony would hear him and come to help. But inside his heart, he knew that it was hopeless. Nopony would risk their own life to come into a sinking boat to save another pony.

Well, nopony besides himself.

Octavic's mind raced. He thought of a millions plans, only rejecting them all in a few seconds. The water was rising fast, and it was almost at his chest now. He had to think of something quick.

Then he remembered that he still had his saddlebag. He opened it up with his mouth and poured everything inside of it onto the ground; his heart immediately went cold. There were only ropes, nails, and a dagger.

A sharp dagger.

A crazy idea crossed Octavic's mind. He shuddered at his own thoughts, murmuring, "There must be a better way, there MUST!"

But he still couldn't think of any. He looked again at the dagger; it was reflecting light from the lightning striking down nearby.

There was no choice. The water was already at his neck, and soon it would cover up both him and Octavia. Octavia was still unconscious, and she would drown soon.

He had no choice.

He picked up the dagger with his teeth. He aimed it at his wrist and did a little test. Then he bit down hard on the hoofle, and shut his eyes as tightly as possible.

Every nerve on his body was telling him to stop. His arms were shaking, his legs were shaking, and he knew there was no turning back. He would gain nothing from this, but he was determined. He had to do it, or he wouldn't be able to save Octavia or himself from their impending deaths.

He shoved the dagger into his wrist. The pain was beyond unbearable, even though he was expecting it, but he couldn't stop. He then turned his neck, and sliced the dagger across, breaking his wrist joint.

Streams of blood rushed down his arm. The pain was so enormous that his brain had gone numb. But he couldn't stop now. He held the dagger even tighter, and then with another slash, the blade cut through the flesh and skin. Octavic didn't give himself a break. He didn't have time for a break. Another swing, and he cut his hoof right off.

Blood sprang out from his forearm like a fountain. Octavic dropped the dagger, panting and sweating. He took the rope from the saddlebag and tied it tightly around his forearm to help stop the blood loss. Then he stood up on three legs, and slowly hobbled towards Octavia. With the severe loss of blood, he was unable to carry Octavia on his back any more, so he simply grabbed Octavia's tail with his teeth and dragged her towards the deck.

Octavic felt like fainting every second. His exposed wound was extremely painful, and he was becoming progressively more light headed from the blood loss. But he didn't stop. He kept moving forward, dragging himself and Octavia towards the sea. The storm had turned into a light rain, and the sea had calmed down a bit. Octavic walked towards an opening in the hoofle's on the deck's edge, and then he jumped off with Octavia.

The second his body touched the sea water, the pain in Octavic's forearm and exploded. The salt from the sea water had entered his forearm and other wounds, and it felt like his whole body was falling apart. He let go of Octavia's tail, and grabbed her by the bow tie to keep her muzzle above the water. He started swimming with his hooves, and each movement brought him more pain. He kept moving, barely conscious. The only thought in his brain was to get Octavia to safety; to make the other ponies notice him and Octavia. After a while, he couldn't even open his eyes, so he closed them and just kept on slowly swimming forward.

He could feel his life slowly drain away. He could feel his senses disappear. He didn't feel the pain or the cold. He couldn't feel his body. He heard a lot of voices, but he couldn't understand them. He just kept going forward, forward, forward. Everything around him was dark, but he was still going forward. He was determined to not stop, until they were saved.

Or until he died.

(Editor's Note: I read the word "dagger" and was really sad when my fears were confirmed as to what was going to happen.)