Bad Blood
By Craine
Sweetie Drops was an earth pony.
That defined many things about her: tough, persistent, stubborn, even masochistic when it came to dirt, grime, and other filth. Such merits should’ve made a trip to Tartarus exciting, if nothing else.
It didn’t.
Her eyes narrowed in focus, if only to distract her from the slick muk she walked on. Her nostrils flared with deep hissing breaths, as if that would make the pungent stench of decay more bearable.
It didn’t. Nothing helped. It never did, no matter how many times she walked those rotten pits. Still, Sweetie marched on, ascending the black stairs, her gaze hard and focused. She counted the minutes it took to reach the top, a habit she knew would never leave her.
She reached the top, and stopped before a massive cage.
Her cerulean eyes darted to every corner of the cage. Six locks, each with six different keyholes. Six chains, thicker than Sweetie herself, wrapped tightly around the cage. And six runic symbols on the cage door, glowing and humming with powerful magic.
Nice touch, Princess Twilight. Sweetie Drops thought with a smirk.
A deep grumble twitched Sweetie’s ear and her smirk vanished, her eyes narrowing at the cage and the darkness within.
“So…you’ve come to gloat, Special Agent?”
Sweetie’s chest rattled at the deep, gruff tone, but held her glare. “Hadn’t crossed my mind,” she said.
A deep buzz rung in the air. “Then dare I say you’ve actually grown up since last we met?”
“Orokos…” the earth pony sighed with closed eyes, “I’m not here to gloat. I’m here to warn you.”
“Oh?”
Sweetie’s eyes opened, her glare stronger. “Yeah. When somepony locks you away, stay locked away.”
A gritty laugh assaulted her ears. “You know, in my personal opinion, you’ve made far worse mistakes.
Sweetie stomped closer to the cage. “My faults are mine, but they have nothing to do with anypony else!”
“You should’ve thought of that before you put me away, Special Agent.”
“And you should have thought of that before you…” Her breath hitched.
She couldn’t see it, but she just knew there was a smile hidden in those shadows.
“There, there, little pony. If it’s any consolation, your father was immeasurably difficult to kill.”
Sweetie’s hooves burrowed into the ground, her lips tightening from a painful scowl. Then she smirked. “Yet, you didn’t learn from him. No wonder you’re so easy to defeat.”
Black claws jutted from between the bars, and a deep roar flicked her curly mane back. Her smirk remained. They stood in silence for a time, save for the inexorable howl of Tartarus. From the darkness emerged Orokos’ bear-like face. Narrow, beaded eyes blinked at Sweetie Drops.
Finally her smirk fell again.
“For years, you’ve eluded me, Special Agent. I swore on the Hive I’d find you.”
“Well, I’m standing right here, bug,” Sweetie prodded.
Orokos’ smiled, his fangs dripping with saliva. “Yes. Yes you are. Just as you were in Ponyville.”
Sweetie Drops’ eyes widened so much that it hurt. “How... how did you…?”
“Did you really think hiding in those crowds would suffice?”
Sweetie looked away with a squinted eye. “For a second there, I did.”
Orokos laughed. “The moment I arrived there, I knew I’d found you. Even when I thought your scent long-forgotten, it hit me so hard I nearly puked. But I found you. And your voice… I could hear that too.”
Sweetie said nothing, barely able to control her shaking.
Orokos’ smile dropped. “Yes… I found you. Tell me, Special Agent. Are those meddlesome mares who stood against me close to you?”
Sweetie said nothing.
“Come on, you can tell an old friend, can’t you?”
Again, Sweetie said nothing.
“If you tell me, I promise I’ll only kill the loudmouth. What was her name, again? Rapidash?”
Sweetie Drops turned her back on Orokos. Something she knew―for a scientific fact―was a red flag for carnivores. Knuckles crashed against old metal behind the cream-colored mare, a snarl ringing in her ears.
“I already warned you, Orokos. Stay. Locked. Away. Stay away from Ponyville, and stay away from me.”
She marched forward, and a low growl rumbled behind her. Then a quiet, deep laughter.
“What about Lyra?”
Sweetie’s hoof stopped just shy of the first stair.
“You didn't mention her in your list of restrictions. And here I was thinking you two were close.”
Sweetie started losing control of her shaking, her back hunching a bit.
“Such ‘best friends’ you two are. No secrets between you―not anymore. I envy that, you know.”
Sweetie’s hoof began burrowing at the black stone below. “You’re not going anywhere, bug.”
Orokos’ beady eyes shifted to the runic enchantments surrounding his cage. “Yes. Alas, you’re right, ‘Bon Bon.’” Orokos snorted and rolled his wrist. “These spells may indeed keep me here, but that’s fine. I can use the time to contemplate how she will die.”
Sweetie Drops spun her head aside, her eye wide trembling eye glaring missiles at the beast.
Orokos’ smile grew. “How do you think I should do it? Rend her apart, limb from limb? Crush her neck with my teeth? Wait! I know! How about poison?!”
Sweetie snorted, her teeth grating against each other.
“I’ve been waiting to sink my stinger into something. Where should I do it? The hind leg, so you can watch her wither and die from the bottom up? Or perhaps the neck, so she can choke on my venom as she screams for you to save her?”
A screeching whinny raised Orokos’ eyebrows. Cream-colored hooves crashed against his cage, and he smiled. He stared into Sweetie Drops’ huge, hateful eyes. And they stared right back.
Sweetie huffed, her breath hitting the grinning bear’s face. Her face softened and her teeth unclenched. She stumbled back from the cage, a cold sweat dotting her face. With a hoof to her forehead, the earth pony turned away.
Again, the bug bear growled.
“It’s over, Orokos.”
And with that, she marched down the stairs of black stone.
“Over?” Another clash of knuckle and steel. “We are not finished, Sweetie Drops! The Gates of Tartarus have never held me! I’m going to get out! And when I do, I’ll find you again!”
Sweetie marched on.
“How long?! How long before I come for you?! For her?! FOR THEM?! How long do think they’ll be safe?!”
Sweetie marched on, Orokos’ roars fading to echoes. Somehow, they seemed louder.
“Run along, little pony! Run from the shadow that looms forevermore! Run until the years brittle your bones! Run ‘till your last breath, and watch from these pits as I DEVOUR YOUR DESCENDANTS!”
Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs, and stepped into the grimy muk. She marched on and stared ahead. She didn’t know which reason stopped her from looking back; the fact she wanted to believe it was over, or the slightest possibility that Orokos would've seen her cry.
Author's Note
You know what the funny thing is? I haven't been able to crank out a oneshot in two years. I...I don't know how to feel about that.
Anyway, this popped in my head and stewed for, like, three hours, and I'm actually happy how it turned out. So there you have it, folks.
Craine...
