Julienne settled her into a windowseat. The silhouette thing was still as opaque as ever. Coco Pommel had learned how to read certain people, just to survive. But people like Juilenne, something internal and locked within itself, had always puzzled her.

Beside her bed was her precarious companion, sharpening her knife on a whetstone. The stone itself seemed fairly pristine. Strange because it was a common Ponyville piece. And from what she could tell, they were on a train to Ponyville from Manehatten, not the other way around.

Supple rattling struck her ears every now and then. The noise of the tracks was a background static. Her priority went to watching Julienne. Coco didn't see the conductor or the trip to the station; she was unconscious by then. For all she knew, it was Julienne's ruse to gain her trust. When all her defenses fell, Juilenne would strike. Something foul struck the shallows of her mind. She wanted to cease her paranoia. But nothing, not even conversation, felt very organic to her

Unspoken quandries stormed her in swirling cacophony. It might've seemed wrong to deny her, to Juilenne, trust and ease. Coco Pommel shifted onto her side, veiling herself entirely between the legs. She stared outside, bogged down by half-corrupted clarity from the mist.

Though she never looked back... her mind was always on Julienne.

"I don't trust you... true. But I don't trust anyone I don't know personally. We just met, right? Why would I be comfortable with you right away?"

"That doesn't matter. I don't need you to be comfortable with me. I need you to understand that I love you. So I won't hurt you. And I won't take advantage of you. That's all you need to know." Julienne hushed, hunching forward to lean her chin on her knuckles.

They stayed sullen and noiseless, unaware of the rain that'd settled in. Coco Pommel hadn't noticed it before, but the ice, from all the frost, to the fog in her breath, was gone. Her new discovery widened her eyes. The coal locomotion whistled and shrieked in ominous warning. Their vessel, surely and patiently, would come to a stop. It's aged engine and worked whistle had lost their edge. The pull of it drew a waning cry. And that signalled their leave.

A curious drizzle struck her muzzle and forced Coco to absorb her surroundings. A ghostly breeze swept some nearby leaves apart, the remainder of the stricken falling just around her. She glanced back to see Julienne... idle at the benches. Their queer seating position, which was crossing the legs and hands, made her wince. Another pain cluster choked her heart away.

"You... you're not coming with? Why...?"

Julienne could only rest her eyes and hurt.

"Non. I would only get in the way. If I handle the monsters again, you might freeze to death. Manehatten was mostly empty, no? Ponyville, mais non. Everyone is there. Huddled in their homes with boards and booby traps. You have to do this alone."

She bit her lip and shoved her tears back.

"But... I-I can't fight. I can't do anything like that. What if they catch me? What if... I'm raped?"

"Ma cherie... I will only hurt you. You've seen that. When I'm in danger, the ice comes. You might not be able to take me. But you can take my love. Keep it close. And when they hurt you, make it sing."

Coco could barely stand. How could she fight. Someone who loved her wouldn't have sent her to do it alone, right. She didn't love Julienne. She didn't even want her around. Yet... everything felt colder. The world was cruel and fair; the sun would rise with or without them. Tomorrow would never sing for them. Instead, the birds would sing. And their sharp loon signals and mockingbird impressions would ring true despite the fog. Coco Pommel started to wobble. Even when Julienne handed her a weapon.

"Ma cherie... why do you tremble so much. What's wrong?" She soothed, holding her cheeks and swelling them with warmth.

For the first time in months, she really did feel safe. How could Coco have been so ignorant. The train ride. The apartment escape. Despite all their differences, something did blossom beneath her. It might've been less than love. But it was nowhere near disgust, or repulsion. It was inadequacy. Superficial tears had stricken her cheeks. They were all loose, porous and wild like crashing tides. If she could've spoken, she would've begged her to stay. Memories of Him had resurfaced with the dogs, and, in some way, the memory of him had taken her over. Coco's hooves were desparate to fly and all her anger had lied.

Julienne closed her eyes. There was blood there, against her chest, but it was clear and fluid. Julienne didn't know why, but Coco was bleeding from her eyes. She wiped it away with her butcher's apron, which shown brightly in the daylight... even beneath the rain gloom. So to was her gilded mane visible. And her thin, peach-colored frame, which boasted thick hips and starved ribs. Julienne took her in to comfort her. They pressed together and let the stars bloom.

"I-I c-ca-can't f-fight them-! I-I- D-don't l-l-leave me alone...! Do-o-on't..."

"If I come with... which I will, how will you keep from freezing, ma cherie. How will I stop myself from losing you all over again?"

Coco's muzzle pressed into her neck. They grazed flesh to flesh and coat to skin, never once devoid of sin. One fell to her knees and one rose to feel the ease, alone together in one moment of harmony caught by hooks and tennis rackets. They were on the same level, eye-level. And between them, the same look of exhaustion: a lowness of the eyes. Julienne had molten jade frozen within her; even the irises lacked shine, only milky in saturation and pigment. At once, there might've been a composite metropolis of sharp snowflakes within her pupils. But now, they were sunken ships and ruined lips, abused wonders taken for a ride and never loved.

"I... I d-d-don't care. You're a-a-all I have... y-you're all I need. Please. Please- stay with me-" Coco sobbed, hacking wildly from wheezing breaths and scratchy inhales.

They struck gold. It bled within them, to the pores of their cheeks, which they rubbed together, alone and one all at once, walking off to find their sun. Coco Pommel took lead. Julienne was just behind her, barely a step away from necessary maneuvering distance. All the while, she held her knife with an outstretched arm, her body sideways as it narrowed her. If any monster had met them, they'd strike her hips or shoulders first, rather than sternum and pelvis.

Ponyville, old, silent Ponyville, was an expired place. All the buildings, once vibrant and happy, had fallen to vandalism and cluttered barricades. Every house, no matter how rich, how elaborate, was always locked and boarded. To Coco's horror, some were open... and burned to a crisp. They walked for hours. An endless path tricked Coco to wander in circles. The mist, to her absolute chagrin, would never let her leave. For the eighth time coming, she shuffled over to a radiant streetlight and plopped down, wearied and worn.

There, the growls of a beast perked her up. Damn it. Her legs were already sore. And galloping more would tear them for sure. If only she hasn't been so reckless in the apartment. Julienne had cautioned her to stand back and find a makeshift weapon. Knives were only a last-resort for ponies. Blunt instruments were best. She instructed her to find a wooden object at best. And that's when Coco trotted away from the second growl. And then the third growl. And the fourth. And the fifth.

"Oh, Luna... Oh Luna... they're all around us."

Julienne took her in and whispered 'duck first and swerve around when you see them coming.'

They crept along to corner them, to encircle their prey. Coco's strength had eluded her. A crashing hollowness filled her gut. And the faces of those creatures were her sister: Glace à la Vanille. Where their stomachs were, an erect limb portruded violently. It pulsed and drooled with harsh muscle. The thing between their legs was barely equine. It was painful. It was agony.

Each one of them were scarred in some way... lips and jaws torn away, to missing eyes and throats flayed open by poor stitchwork. A majority of those devils were sliced right open down the middle, and their ribs were human fingers clutching away at whatever hung, even the worm clusters oozing out their wounds.

They beckoned her defenses down. Sultry, yearning words slipped their tongues and each one drew closer. Julienne kept her knife up, trembling herself. Her love was manipulated. She could tell, even from a moment's glance, that they were breaching her mind for scraps of hope. An amalgamation of identical voices infected their eardrums.

"Coco... I missed you so much."

"Coco, where were you?"

"J'taime, mon coupe de foudre..."

"Ne jamais me quitter. J'taime trop..."

Coco spouted her grief away and spat knives to the phantoms around her. And as she screamed, the world grew colder. Every word stabbed her chest and soon, a leak sprung forth to freeze her eyes open. She would never forget their bulging pupils and pale, sickly flesh, nor would she ever forget her sister... her real sister, and not the artifice she'd birthed to shove the pain away.

"Vous n'êtes pas elle! Vous n'êtes pas mon rayon de soleil, vous êtes seulement la douleur!"

At once, the illusion broke. And in her eyes, the image of her sister had barely survived. Instead, they were things with smooth faces, barely equine, more akin to blind denizens of unspoken cave systems. They lunged forward to take her, to target her.

So she pounced away, left and right, her sister in her hooves; football practice had never mattered so much in her life, as ballerina, or track. All those skills, she remembered, had come from Glace. Glace was in her hooves, keeping her free from the mimic monsters. There were three taking lashes and lunges right for her. And then, in her weakened state, she grit her teeth and slammed her hindlegs forward. One of the canine beasts slumped forward and collapsed.

Julienne leapt over it and straddled the back. She plunged her knife deep. A well-spaced cluster of overhead stabs managed to puncture the neck and scatter it's vertabrae. Red splendor caked her skin and she shivered, entranced in duty, entranced in her one and only purpose: to hurt. She dashed forward, toward Coco. One of the mimics had lurched forward to catch Coco unaware. It slammed forward and into her chef's knife. She scowled softly and kicked it forward, only to slash it's throat mid-collapse.

Four more had joined the encounter. She only frowned and dealt with them accordingly. Two had leapt opposites of either side. Julienne did nothing more but move backwards and slash downward to flay their necks open. And when they insisted on charging foreward, she threw a soccor kick into their wounds. Sanguine liquid coated her hiking shoes.

When the last mimics pounced forward to grab Coco, she spun about in perfect motion and caught them both with kicks. The first one, she struck down with a roundhouse. The second, with a mule kick and an axe kick to crush it's skull in. The rush of battle kept her irises thin and needled. In her stupor, she pressed her tongue against her teeth and blew air to the corpses.

"Is that all...? Aren't there more of you...?" She panicked, checking for vitals in nearby corpses.

She nearly stabbed something when Coco tackled her to the ground and kissed her. The shock, of all the feelings coursing through her, dissipated in one, sultry lick. She licked her lips and then Coco's. It brought her back. And Coco had red all over. In her hooves. In her hair. But, mostly, amassing over her cheeks, then her nose bridge.

"I love you t-too... I-I can't really see. And I-I'm- it hurts to talk. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter... i-if I m-miss her. You were h-he-here. Take me home, Julienne- t-take me...."

Coco collapsed. Every step Julienne took would thaw her out. And yet, she hung her head and grit her teeth. Coco Pommel, her bolt of lightning, was starting to grow motionless. Her once-frantic iambic pentameter was not waxing, but withering away. She did her best to not cry. And even though she did, sometimes, loss was inevitable. Sometimes, feelings were inevitable.

Julienne had fallen to her knees. So she sang her a lullaby.

She sang her a lullaby till she was nothing but a corpse. It was the only lullaby she knew in her lifetime. It was about Coco's mother. Their mother. Julienne held her sister till they'd wake up in her hospital bed. Till her murderer finally saw the truth.

Author's Note

https://youtu.be/x37JENBiDcY