Escape from the Cannibal Fashionista
It was a wonderful party. The cider flowed by the gallon and the barbecued vegetables were consumed with great zeal. As the night grew darker your friends retreated to their tents or into the woods. Sometimes they stagger off in pairs, other times by themselves but soon you’re alone and giggling at the faces in the fire.
Suddenly it hits you, the growing realization that you’ve had entirely too much to drink and your bladder begins to protest loudly. You abandon the fire and walk into the darkness, away from its warmth and safety. You trudge deeper and deeper into the wilderness trying to find the perfect spot to relieve yourself and hopefully not disturb any of your friends’ nocturnal adventures.
Finally you see it, a large dead tree. You creep up behind it and take a long pee. As you urinate you lean your head against it, the relief is great and you sigh. Glancing skyward through the tree’s branches the moon rotates rapidly and a series of clouds begin to pass over it. The effects of the cider still have their clutches on you as you back away from the tree, you uneven gait matching the uneven smile that crosses your face as you wander through the forest.
You haven’t walked very far when you hear it, the snapping of twigs and the rustling of the underbrush. Startled, you turn quickly toward the sound but see nothing. The clouds now covering the moon, you gulp and call out for one of your friends. The only answer you receive is silence. You begin walking again, your pace now quicker than before.
Trotting through the darkness you stagger over the occasional stump or branch. Twice you bump into a tree. You begin feel like you didn’t walk that far before. In fact none of these trees looks familiar. Then you realize that you’re all turned around and in your drunken state you can’t tell where you’re headed. Frustration and paranoia grip you as your heart begins to pound harder and faster than it has before. Maybe it’s the alcohol but, somewhere in the darkness you can feel another pony’s eyes upon you.
After what seems like an hour the clouds finally clear and the moon’s pale glow fills the forest. Then you it hear it again, the rustling underbrush. You turn, yet again, in the direction of the sound only to see the large purple mane of a pony sticking out from behind one of the bushes. It swings back and forth through the thickets, like a sharks fin in the briny sea. It quickly becomes obvious who it is, Rarity.
At first you’re happily surprised, if puzzled, that the Element of Generosity would be out here and not safe at home making dresses. Yet, as she makes her way out of the thicket your pleasant surprise turns into fear. There’s a wicked gleam in her eye and a broad malevolent smile on her face. She’s forty yards away from you and she seems to be covered in something. You cautiously back away. She raises her right hoof up to the moonlight and it becomes clear that she has some sort of large metallic claw attached to it. She laughs a cruel chuckle. You run.
Fear flows through your veins as you run. The effects of the cider having been driven out as you plunge headlong through the woods, the white unicorn hot on your flank. You run faster and dodge to the left into the shadows and wait until you hear her run by. The sigh that escapes your lips is temporary as you glance about to see where you are. Quickly you notice that straight ahead is the faint orange glow of the campfire you’d abandoned before. Without thinking you bolt toward the camp and your friends. They have to be warned.
When you get there you want to scream but cannot. There’s blood everywhere. There’s blood in the tents and mounds of offal litter the area. A maniacal laugh rings out through the woods. Without thinking you dive into one of the empty cider barrels and gaze out of the tap hole. She’s there.
The white unicorn wanders around the campsite occasionally sticking her head in the tents and screaming incoherently. You can see that she’s covered in blood, their blood. She turns toward the cider barrels and your heart sinks. There’s death in her gaze and gore on her chin. It becomes clear that she stole their skins and ate your friends. Now, the fatal fashionista is hunting you.
Closing your eyes you hold your breath and pray that she won’t find you. It’s then the lonely bay of a timber wolf catches your ears. You open your eyes and see that Rarity’s ears have also perked up. She says something about firewood and runs off. Shaken and sighing you climb out of the barrel and make your way back into the wilderness.
Another hour passes as you wander through the dark woods, drenched in sweat, your nerves frazzled beyond comprehension. Each step is arduous and after all of the running your lungs burn with exhaustion. Every noise and shadow makes you jump. Finally, to the east you see a small light at the far end of the valley. Could it be? If you can make it to that small cabin you might be able to hide until morning with whoever lives down there.
Making your way down the steep embankment you do your best not to trip over anything or make a sound. The urge to be careful is more powerful than anything else until you reach the valley floor. Once there, being careful ceases to be your main focus and you bolt for the cabin as fast as you can. All of your trouncing though startles a flock of birds that fly up in your face and startle you. As you step backward in shock –wham- one of your rear legs gets stuck in a trap! Tears well up in your eyes but you stay as quiet as you can as you drag the trap into the moonlight.
It’s a dragon trap. Clearly whoever put this out was looking to capture something large. You wince breathing hard as you look at your now busted and bleeding back leg; the trap’s teeth have practically torn your hoof off below the knee. A million thoughts go through your mind as you look at the now lame appendage. The first thought however, is of the unicorn who forced you on this mad dash, Rarity. She’s still somewhere in the woods and if she finds you she’ll kill you. By this point in time you can no longer tell if it’s just to sate her blood lust, a need of materials, or if it would just be for sport. The one thing that is certain is that you have to get free of this trap.
Gritting your teeth you hold the trap steady and begin twisting your back leg. The traps teeth chew away at your flesh making a sickening sloshing sound until it reaches bone. Vomit rises in your mouth as you finally snap your now stump leg away from the trap. Shock begins to wash over you. In your daze you make your way to the cabin as you bleed along the earthen valley floor. You notice a machete buried in a log and think very little of it until you reach the cabin’s window and peer inside. You see her. Rarity.
Fear begins to wash over you but, soon the fear is replaced with rage as you watch her. She sits by the fire sharpening a pair of scissors next to several skins as something in the pot in the fireplace boils. You can guess just what is in the pot, if not who, and in that moment it occurs to you that she must be stopped.
You open the door quietly and hobble in behind her slowly. She’s humming to herself as she continues to sharpen the scissors. The world is still as you slowly drag your bleeding stump leg behind you, each step feeling like an eternity. Fortunately how it feels and how it is are different beasts and before long you’re directly behind the cannibalistic unicorn cabin dweller.
She gasps in shock as you wrap your forelegs around her throat and begin to choke her. Every muscle in your body is taught with the desire to kill this murderer, her eyes role back in her head as she gasps for air. On instinct she slams back into you causing you to topple over and lose your grip. She pants as she swats you in the nub that was your leg. You scream in pain as she pulls away from you her horn now glowing as various sharp knives and scissors float by her.
She licks her hoof, now covered in your blood and smiles as she begins to toss the various sharp scissors and knives in your direction. You dodge to the left and right as each would-be kill shot misses and is buried deep into the floor or wall of the cabin. While you are doing well at dodging her attacks your vision is growing hazy. If you don’t strike soon you will be dead.
In a move that shows just how agile you can be you jump in the air and grab one of the floating knives. You land with a thud and charge the surprised unicorn plunging the knife deep into her abdomen. She moans in pain and coughs as she pulls back and topples over into a heap. You stagger backward and watch her. After a few minutes you notice she’s not moving. You figure she’s dead.
Thinking quickly you bring your stump leg to the fire and jam it in to cauterize the wound. Your scream echoes throughout the cabin could probably be heard for miles but, you don’t really care. Pulling the now charred but, not bleeding stump from the fire you go the grab some of Rarity’s blue fabric and wrap the end of your leg in it to protect it. The fact that it makes it look admittedly fabulous is a side bonus.
Hobbling out of the cabin you make your way back into the dark valley when you hear a low whistle. You turn your head just in time to see a kitchen knife come flying past your face and the familiar, terrifying form of the white unicorn charging at you. Rarity wasn’t dead and now she’s got the taste of your blood in her mouth and rage in her eyes. She charges at you with almost every piece of sharp metal that she can find levitating next to her.
You manage to dodge most of her blades by ducking behind the trees for cover. Each time you dodge you close the distance between you and her. It’s then that your true strength kicks in and you recall that judo lesson you had from the drunken master himself Beer Barrel. Using both hooves you take hold of Rarity’s horn and flip her hard on to her back. She gasps for air but is soon up on her hooves and is chasing you as you race for the machete that was buried in the log near the cabin.
With as much speed as a three legged pony can manage you reach the blade and pull it out of the log and begin swinging it when she’s within range. Rarity dodges every blow as she growls angrily trying to land her own blows. Finally one of her levitating blades flies at your head causing you to crash into the dirt.
Without thinking you inhale a mouthful of the earth and spit it in her face stunning her. It’s all the distraction you need as you climb to your hooves and slash the Element of Generosity through the neck from left to right sending her head toppling to the ground. You stare at Rarity’s severed head for several moments waiting for the last bits of life to drain out of her now emotionless gaze.
Once you are certain she has passed you drop to your knees as a generous amount of mental, emotional and physical pain wash over you all at once. You sob quietly on the earthen floor wondering why any of this had to happen. Yet, as you slowly collect yourself you begin the difficult task of making your way back to civilization, safe in the knowledge that the cannibal fashionista would no longer hurt anypony.
