【★aNGeL❅mAIdEn❅ReSuRReCTioN★】
However I've written this is of none of your concern. Need you to know, my magic flames must still be linked to Canterlot's castle. Well, Princess Celestia's castle. If this is reached by any means, I want you all to know that I am happily miserable in my existence. If I ever have the chance to come back, I may, just as long as Rarity can come with me. I know not what I mean, as my delusion has left me disillusioned, and her magic has plagued my mind with eternal restlessness and that dreaded Canterlotian speech.
Anyway, Rarity told me I should attempt this for Hearts and Hooves Day, and I was surprised she still even knew how many days had passed since we came. I haven't slept at all, and neither has she. How she knows is again not known by me.
Attempt? I mean attempt to get this to any survivors who have found refuge in Celestia's castle... or at least, what was left of it after the attacks.
If you manage to get this, I want you to know I am alive and well, if you know my name and me in general.
Without further ado, I'll just jump right into my tale.
My name is Spike, and lately, my life since foolishly taking Equestria under my wing after the deaths of the alicorns has gone downhill drastically. Rebuilding was a pain, and the fact I eagerly took the position which I knew not how to handle ended up making me look even more like a jack ass in the end. I'll only lose it, everything else that is, in a short time anyways. After all, I've lost Twilight, and my other Ponyville friends, but... I still have her.
She is Rarity, the unicorn princess of Equestria, under me, Spike the Dragon... the king of the little smudge of Equestria we have left.
Rarity is the one who supported me after my first depression, and the one who helped me to initially care for the ponies still left after the war.
She developed a magic-enhanced drug that can induce illusions and even heal grievous wounds, but some ponies we tried to save had already been long dead, and the ones who we neglected to save trying to rescue the ones who weren't worth our time ended up dying horrible deaths from the ravaging beasts and hungry creatures of hell itself. I've never witnessed such wickedness at once... Never before have I wanted, have I yearned for destruction! Revenge against those damned beasts who killed Twilight and the other bearers of the Elements of Harmony, along with Princess Celestia, Luna, Cadance, Shining Armor... I just can't force myself to feel sorry for the dead anymore.
I only feel rage. I want to destroy them for what they've done.
What were we fighting, you ask?
What else? It was those damned changelings. They came from nowhere, and they drained us all of our love, turning us on one another so they could finish feeding after our deaths.
Those fuckers just did not know when to give up, and when we tried to fight back, we lost more than we could even try to attempt to get back. It was a battle of one against one million... we hadn't a chance in the world from the very start. It was a hopeless war.
But Rarity, my maiden... my angel... she tried to lift me up on multiple occasions through the years, and we salvaged all that we could. With our small village numbering at a mere five thousand... we are all that's left.
And even as we speak, the changelings try to get over the walls. We aren't fighting to survive anymore... We're only fighting to salvage whatever time we have left to at least try to form new counterattacks... even though they all have failed.
I give us about a week until they reach us. After that, we can kiss our asses goodbye.
The mare looks at me, as if I had done something wrong. I can’t look past her face, as if anything behind her does not exist. The floor is ours.
The castle is empty. It's only us. Me and Rarity.
"I take it you’re scared by now?" she asks me, smiling with her head titling lightly.
I smile in a masochistic manner. I am ready for what she has to throw at me. "Scared of dying? Or of you?"
"Both, my Spikey Wikey!" she exclaims like a bright fillyfooling fool.
She is beautiful. The way her sapphire blue eyes shines at every moment, especially when she wakes up in the morning, and her eyes open to the sun-light. Her beauty blinds me. I wonder if her luscious violet mane came from Aphrodite herself, she keeps it in a free fashion and it flows with the wind, just as she does. Her breasts are like large, soft pillows, that you can rest your head on for hours, and she will let you. She is gentle, and submissive, as my Princess, as a maid. She helps me whenever I need her, she is my Angel of Generosity.
"Are you scared of me, Master?" she questions me, and I nod in agreement with her.
She approaches me slowly, with a knife in one hand. The knife is sharpened, I can tell, as she takes her sleeve and lightly runs the knife across it, slicing it clean off. She stabs me in my stomach with the knife and drives me onto the ground. I can feel the intense pain as her hands grip the knife harder and drive it deeper into my abdomen. I cough and squirm, until getting a feel for the pain. I caress her hair and her cheek, then her breasts. She lowers her head down to mine and kisses me, she licks the tip of my nose, staring me right into my eyes with her oceanic blue eyes. They are emotionless, but intensified for her mission.
She helps me to stand up on my feet, then she kneels down and drops the knife. She brings her head to my waist, and begins to lap at the spilling blood from my abdomen. She lets out light moaning sounds, and uses her tongue to add pressure to the gash, tearing it deeper to let more blood pour out. Blood splashes on her cheek, she licks it off, leaving a light smudge of blood on her cheek. “I love it,” she says, making me sit down on a throne-like chair. “I will pleasure myself to please you, Master.”
She’s humiliating herself to please me, and it’s working. She is not hurting me, but rather herself; she is the slave, doing everything she can to please her Master. As if she is the Angel, and I am her god.
"What do you want me to do next?" she asks with a light smile. She stands up and twirls, to sit down on my lap. I feel my stomach wound close up, and the torn cloth sews itself back together. "Master? Do you hear me?"
I see her horn glowing, and I feel the effects of the drug hit me like a storm. My vision is blurred and my perception is slurred.
I reply quickly, “Yes, I do.” I think up ways to torture her, and for her to torture me, but I feel this craze of misused power inside of me that wants me to rip her to shreds and watch her rebuild herself so I can do it again. She’ll let me do something as sick as that to her, I know she will.
“You…” I say, pausing; I stand up, which causes her to fall face first onto the ground. I feel this sadistic feeling rising in me, and I reach over for my staff which she brandished just for me. A beautiful golden staff with a ruby rose and emerald rose thorns.
She looks at me, with her beautiful face. Still smiling, though, her nose it bleeding a little.
“Okay, you can hurt me now,” she purrs.
I respond rather quickly, and after this point, I no longer have no control of myself. I use my staff to break her leg, and it also tears her skin with the rose-thorns. She cries in pain, but she is enjoying it. I can tell.
I find myself only wanting to test out her resistance of this twisted torture more and more. She looks at me with tears in her eyes, but I see she’s crying tears of joy, as a sick smile of pleasure stretches across her perfect, soft rouge lips. “More, I know you want to,” she begs me. “I am your maid, you live to humiliate me, I am to be submissive to you and do whatever you say, because you are my Master. Order me, humiliate me, hurt me, even kill me…because…I love you.”
She loves me, but I don’t care. I hate her right now, I hate her, I hate her. So much that all I want to do is just finish her off. End her miserable existence. All the ails and pain she's endured. All those empty smiles and memories to haunt her of days that will never return. A fool dreaming to find that one thing she can cling onto...
But that would be too easy. I just want this to carry on.
I slam the staff onto her shoulder and into her arms. She falls on her side, and I watch her struggle to sit back up. I kick her mercilessly across the floor several times, and then with the staff, and I follow her.
"Get up, you slut," I demand of her.
She struggles to follow my order, but she can’t do it as her arms are too weak. Too bad, she won’t need them. I slam the staff into her right arm, breaking it completely, and then into her left. Her left arm is now almost completely severed off, as it is hanging by the bone.
"Master, please... get rid of it," she pleads, her voice shaking as if within her were an earthquake.
I sever her left arm off completely, and lightly stab her in the neck with one of the long rose-thorns. Then, I budge the tip of the staff into her stomach and twist it violently. She falls on her back, screaming and laughing at the same time, while violently squirming in response to her pain. I punch her in her stomach, causing her to vomit blood. She holds on to her joy in this act, but I don’t want to let her do that.
How twisted she is, it is truly putting me off. I don't understand why she's welcoming this so much. If anything, I'm sure she's setting me up.
"Are you still scared, Master?" she asks me.
"Yes," I reply, dropping the staff. Blood is decorating the room, until it all goes black. I see her soul emerge from her body, and I feel my own emerge from mine. The world transfroms into a dark torture ground with weapons of all types. All weapons exist in this realm. She picks up a mace and spins it.
"Master, this is it," she says calmly. "This is our eternal destiny. We will fight here, killing each other, only to endlessly regenerate so we can fight again. This dimension is our minds synced together, whether you feel, or I feel, we will feel together. If I kill you, I feel your pain, and vice versa. It will never end. Never." She runs toward me, and I realize it was all a set-up after all.
Was it just an illusion? Or was this a sick spell she conjured up to use on me after all these years of emotional torment and psychological deterioration? I don't fucking know anymore.
However fucked up Rarity was from all this shit was pretty obvious now. And as for me... I walked right into it like a dumb ass. Like I wanted this? From the beginning, since this whole ordeal unfolded, I've been stuck with her, and my love for her had really diminished like a hot iron sword being placed into cold water.
But... I felt it come back on me, and even though I hated her guts, I found myself channeling that hatred into love while I tortured her. Maybe the hate was my initial love, and I only needed somepony to kill.
Anyhow, she had planned it from the beginning. She wanted to get closer and closer to me so we would be linked together by love. I truly loved her, that’s why I killed her. She killed me, because she loved me.
And this is our eternal destiny, to relive what we lived in our last moments together. She loves me…I love her. I’d rather it be with her than anyone else. So what, if it were a set-up? I hated life anyways. Here, I don’t have life. I have love, with her. My Angel.
Rarity, The New Princess Angel of Love.
