Author's Note

Ah, you've made to chapter eight of Fireflower's fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before, a Mature one no less on the grounds that this chapter will deal with another heavy subject matter proven to be unsuitable for those under eighteen, easily offended, and/or quickly nauseated; suffice to say, this will be by far a strong note for many readers all and therefore you're all given an option to skip ahead to this chapter: whether or not you take this offer, it'll only up to you to do so nothing more.

Aside from disclaimers long ago, I want to take the time to say thank you for never pulling out too early since we're now in the halfway region of the story's progress; somehow, the new year had provided us with a new hope to have and hold with tender loving care rather than yet a totally lost cause and the strength to continue onward in staying tuned for the future that is the now: I believe at this rate, everything will make sense soon enough.

However, let me just also say that, with many thanks aside, I hope you can be able to stomach this chapter now even more than the others before it and still have the strength to continue onward in staying tuned though the passing times; nevertheless, I hope to see you all again soon.

Deceleration

Apparently, it would seem that a waltz with death was now taking place here and there, populated by many soldiers marching onward to never be seen again. The skies above it all were colored in a bloody red as they were being occupied by the likes of smoky clouds immensely pouring inward at that moment in time. A raging firestorm was already taking place as its uniform contents had blackened and consumed anything unfortunate enough to be caught in its unbeaten path no less. Filling in the role of the gentle breeze were chorus of screams intermixed with the rapid percussion of explosions going off all throughout the very vicinity. The howling screeches of many an aircraft was heard overhead with the golden sun currently watching from afar while sitting upon the log horizon altogether.

In the wake of the chaos and disarray, one identity in particular sprang to dear life as a terse gasp lacerated the already wounded atmosphere. The individual’s amethyst orbs were bright but were cluttered with the small pebbles upon the visage as a wayward hand had removed them all. Donned upon the owner’s body was an orange shirt across the torso and a pair of denim shorts centimeters away from the frail kneecaps. Both forearms were bound all the way to the wrists by some white wrappings and the legs had some socks matching such color already. The solid earth below the individual was being assaulted by a series of tremors and explosions from a faraway place, sending the body up.

With the skies and the smoke drenching them all at once, the observer started to take a stand and check the surrounding at once. All that was around were various text adorned in many fonts: some were big but others small; either way, they’d said, “RUN”. Alongside such a word in question, pictures of people from all demographics were adorned in tracksuit in a sauntering motion.

With little warning whatsoever, the individual’s ears perked up to the sounds of a roaring flame nearby, forcing the legs to scurry off to a nearby exit. The great fires that were being witnessed had instantaneously started to spread as the observer felt the temperatures rise to insurmountable heights. From that perspective of course, it’d have seem to be a pleasure to burn everything in sight, especially for things eaten, blackened, and changed. Because of such dangers thereof, there was no time at all to just stand alone and be consumed as the observer evacuated from the burning complex. Every single part of the individual’s skin was currently secreting an excess of perspiration that soaked throughout the very fabric already being worn. Even so, the tender nostrils had instantaneously taken a whiff of it all and found the overall aroma to be lacking in taste in some form and fashion.

After vacating the premises, the observer’s identity was finalized as a female with short hair matching her now tensed amethyst irises. As she was panted heavily, her two eyes were now greeted by a window of opportunity to take sight of what she had been going through. With the fire now escalating into another part of the conflagration almost completely, the observer had no choice but to run away. While doing so, she couldn’t help but wonder in her very mind what had just went on that made such trying things go like this already. Aside from a lone beating heart, the pair of lungs as well were simultaneously going from being small to large in capacity and pressure. While the observer was happily relieved to feel the light wind upon her dark skin, the vast collection of sweat had still refused to leave.

“I gotta find Rainbow Dash…” she said, only to find that none of the words spoken in question had reached her ears at all.

The observer turned her weary sights onto what was in front; what had been seen was just the same: a scene of uncontrolled chaos descending on each and every corner of the area. A reign of fire and terror had poured down upon the location that she was already in like a set of raging rapids with some scenes of violent explosions and partial nudity to go around. The smoke clouds were already becoming so immense that they were starting to spread around to any and all neighboring boarders in a rather twisted form of osmosis here and there. Debris in every shape, size, and material imaginable littered the streets right up in front of the observer’s eyes as more of it began to join the fray with even the utmost abandonment. Anything else that hadn’t been eventually burned to a crisp was either all boarded up with wooden planks or had broken glass around the windows and doors nearby altogether. Considering the fact that there was no sign of flora native to the currently burning concrete jungle all around her, everything was clear to her that staying here wasn’t an option.

Looking upward, the observer had taken the little time whatsoever to see an airplane above her crash into a nearby building almost rather suddenly. The expulsion of heat and light were now convulsing into another cloud of smoke as a large hole was now formed deeply right into the tall structure. It wasn’t long until the floor of glass windows nearby had burst into shards as it rained down from where point of impact had taken place all at once. While the rest of the very building was left intact, parts of it that were affected by the explosion thereof had descended into the ground in due time.

Despite being far away, she chose to run off once more, already made aware of the very situation that was apparent. In spite of the destruction that was taking place, the observer had been considered fortunate to find a clear path. She could still smell the smoke and fire forming all around her current location while sauntering off anyway no less. Only the ever present threat of dying altogether had kept her legs moving faster with little to no signs of stopping. By simply moving forward, it was the observer’s sole responsibility to keep herself out of harm’s way completely. Even though that she had kept herself well off at once, her eyes had remained wary of the failing surroundings. Yet, the dangers inherent within were encroaching the timid observer anyway, disregarding her top running speed.

Of course, all that changed when she quickly found herself stumbling over something that sent her face down into the pavement: it was another person like her. Given the very size of it altogether, it would perhaps be safe to say that the other individual in question had possessed a larger frame than the observer herself. Like her, the person that she’d tripped over wore some spiky hair; however, rather than simply having purple tresses, the former had five other colors within. The individual’s attire was more elaborate than the observer present: a denim jacket, some black shorts, and a pair of white boots were upon the wearer’s body. One aspect that stood out the most however was a puddle of various liquids that formed between the subject’s legs; it alone had made her face cringe immediately.

The observer soon felt her own heart beating rhythmically against the ribcage underneath the skin, shaking about before suddenly trying to find the urge to call out but her words won’t come out.

On the other hand, she felt a hand landing on her foot; as a result, she turned to find that it had belonged to the person she had stumbled across earlier crying out to her, “Scootaloo… get away from here…!”

“Rainbow Dash…?” the eponymous observer called out in shock while recoiling about, “what’s going on…?”

“Get out of here while you still can…!” was all that the haggard individual replied as she showed Scootaloo her face: aside from the unkempt hair, the former had cuts and bruises upon her face, a blackened eye, and some blood around the lips.

Shocked by this harrowing discovery, the concerned observer exclaimed, "Rainbow, what happened to you?!"

"Never mind about me, just run; these monsters are near…!" the aforementioned woman warned, "just hurry…!"

“Rainbow, I–––” were all the words that Scootaloo could even muster up and say as she had suddenly been thrown to the ground without any warning whatsoever. The sudden impact had quickly left the observer into a temporary daze; in addition, she then heard the acute sounds of laughter echoing from all around her at once. Reluctantly, Scootaloo turned around to find that her body was rendered immobile on the account of one dark figure, both eyes leaking out with some lost silver.

A loud explosion had popped into her ears as laughter was heard once again before subsiding into some words, “you should’ve taken heed to the whore’s words when you had the chance, little girl.”

“What’s going on here; why can’t I move?!” Scootaloo exclaimed as she’d struggled to move around at once, “where are you, Rainbow?!”

“Rainbow can’t save you now…!” the laughter roared again despite the titular woman’s anguished retorts being nearby the observer.

Even though that Scootaloo was unable to see Rainbow’s body, let alone hear her out of all parties present in the very least, the former wanted out. Of course, the weight of the worldly substances were still too great for even the likes of her to fight off directly; nevertheless, she had kept on trying. Sure enough, Scootaloo’s body then became greatly tired and fatigued to contest to the predicament that she had already found herself recently.

Another lone shadow appeared right in front of her, prompting the latter to cry out, “somebody, stop them…!”

The shadow that was standing across from Scootaloo’s line of sight started to move, albeit slowly than what she’d initially anticipated. As a result of the abysmal progress, she’d started to struggle once more, only to be quickly greeted with a steel blade nearby her. The sight of its illustrious sheen nearby quickly made the purple irises constricted themselves around Scootaloo’s very own pupils.

“Ain’t nobody’s gonna stop us from what we’re going to do to you, especially not while I have some fun with Rainbow Dyke first…!” the voice from behind her had cackled but it didn’t come from the shadow that immobilized the latter, “besides, you two are gonna rather wish that you found shelter instead of us…”

“Leave Scootaloo out of this, dammit; she doesn’t need this kind of–––” the eponymous speaker’s demand became cut off by a loud slap.

Afterwards, Rainbow attempted to speak once more, only to be interrupted by the same voice from before her turn, “shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch; say another word and the twerp gets it…!”

“You bastards wouldn’t dare hurt any of us…!” the observer had instantaneously shouted back in response, “Rainbow’s gonna make you wish that you were dead if anything happens to me, motherf–––”

“Dead if anything happens to you; could she still go through with this after what I’m about to do you both…?” the first voice snickered as Scootaloo felt something cold and stationary licking her back.

The observer quickly came to find that the knife from earlier was no longer standing nearby her as a sudden hot stroke was felt upon the skin; before long, she’d started to shriek with terror, “AHHHHHH!”

“Not so tough now that you’re screaming like the little shrimp you are, ain’t ya?!” the voice sneered as some drops of blood emerged from Scootaloo’s skin, “alright, Master Ardor; start cutting…!”

“Hey, don’t you ––– AUGH!” was all that the poor woman could say before the knife above her started to make short work of her dark skin. Scootaloo couldn’t help but scream uncontrollably as the steel tip drew blood from there, the stinging sensation refusing to leave her side. Her amethyst eyes were stretched wide as she was treated to the sight of the lone bystander pointing it all out in regards to her discontent. Scootaloo had struggled to escaped her attacker’s grasp but to no avail on the account of her current predicament beset upon the former. Turning towards the pavement beneath her skin, her vision went narrow and became clouded with tears tugged upon by the gravity at once.

Scootaloo’s plight didn’t go unnoticed as she heard the bright skinned woman scream out, “YOU FUCKING BASTARDS ARE GONNA GET IT; I HOPE THAT YOU BURN IN DESPAIR FOR THIS, YOU–––”

“Maybe this will shut you up for the time being…!” the voice from behind the woman interrupted, stopping Rainbow’s tirade before continuing where the former had left off, “now then, where was I? Oh yeah… carve a huge fucking billboard into that scrawny shrimp’s back…!”

“But Ace, she’s too weak; we don’t have to do this…” another voice echoed into Scootaloo’s ears, but it was directly close by.

As the timid captive started to cry, the first voice that had laughed at her spoke to the captor, “forget about it; she won’t survive long…”

“I don’t know…” Ardor struggled to speak up all at once, “she’s bleeding pretty badly as we speak, not to mention–––”

“Say one more word and I swear, my brother Boone will make you wish you were fucking aborted; do I make myself clear?!” Ace snarled.

A brief moment of silence occurs between the two shadows as some explosions broke in the sky right above themselves. Scootaloo was still shedding tears but refused to say another word to either of her tormentors, let alone to the other woman. Knowledge of Rainbow’s current situation, although left ambiguous, was siphoning off whatever courage that had resided. Even the basic thought of attempting an escape by the observer’s own two feet would be wracked with such flaws. Differentiating from either of the two shadows, Ardor and Ace, made little to no difference from Scootaloo’s perspective.

Soon, the larger shadow resigned to its fate and returned to restraining the depressive observer reluctantly with a rueful reply, “understood, sir…”

“What are you waiting for, a pie in the sky to fall in your lap…?” the slimmer of the two captors demanded, “hack that twerp to bloody pieces…!”

“Please… don’t…” Scootaloo squeaked out, only to find her words falls on deaf ears as Ardor placed the edge of his knife upon her skin.

The searing sensation started to wreak havoc upon the poor victim’s body as it was followed by streaks of red from every cut currently being made. The pained shrieks that were being made in conjunction with the agonizing cries were like a refrain legato amongst the war–torn battle orchestra. The canvas which was Scootaloo’s back was adorned with numerous lines and curves, its integument subjected to controlled chaos and disarray. The possible explanations that would’ve been provided were like the presence of assisting the likes of these women in particular: none whatsoever.

As if feeling every stroke of the knife etching into Scootaloo here and there wasn’t exacerbating in the very least, she had felt her ears stand on endwise to the sounds of laughter echoing; however, rather than originating from Ace himself, it came from in front, sounding off like this: “look at that weepy little midget crying…!”

Struggling to concentrate on the new source of cruelty, she came to find that the shadow which had approached her earlier was now accompanied by others that were in many shapes and sizes. Scootaloo was now surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme about sticks and stones as if broken bones would hurt more than the names be calling, despite the knife’s carnage upon her. It wasn’t long until her skin became warm and loose with her own blood, the pained weeping that followed along was drowned out by a surrounding sea of spectators pointing and laughing. Scootaloo barely cared about the sudden appearance of the hecklers since she watched her vision becoming too blurry to pay attention to whatever details each of them would possess anyway. She couldn’t help but cough up a rising storm out from her very mouth, trying to find the strength to call out some words, only to be choked up by the blood regurgitating in the process.

“Take it, you little bitch; I hope you like that assplay here…!” a taunt was heard echoing, but it wasn’t directed towards the sad Scootaloo ironically; instead, it was that one particular shadow from before, “so, what’s with her now…?”

“I did what you ordered; can we please just leave her alone…?” Ardor answered, his breathing showing signs of staggering about along the way.

Whatever relief that the crying victim could feel was suddenly cut off by Ace’s laughter, the latter replying, “not yet, my friend: we still got one more thing to do before we just leave here now…”

“What does he mean by that…?” Scootaloo thought to herself silently, worried about what will happen to her next, “he doesn’t––– oh no…!”

“You’re not suggesting that, aren’t you: I’ve already followed your order; isn’t that enough for you?!” the bulky shadow exclaimed, confirming the listener’s trepidations almost instantaneously.

Ace sent a punch towards Ardor’s lower torso and replied, “I’m sorry, have you forgotten where you are?! I see then: you want her to be left alone; you want her to be left on the street bleeding out…! It was you that carved up so many men and women on the battlefield; it was you that broke their will to fight but you cannot accept it…! You think that this act of disobedience makes you above consequences; have you forgotten that you never had such feelings before then, Ardor, let alone why we’re fighting?!”

“I’m not saying that at all; this has gone on far enough already: haven’t you seen what’s going on already?!” the bulky shadow coughed up in retaliation, “the entire damned inhospitable remnant of this very city is collapsing into ruin and we’re supposed to be wasting time on torturing two defenseless women instead of helping them?!”

“That’s your crucial flaw as a soldier in this day and age: your quickness to help the innocent has been constantly interfering with seeing at the bigger picture; has it ever occurred to you that they might be spies working to bring down the Princess and the entire homeland she rules over, Ardor?!” Ace screeched at the aforementioned listener at once.

The battle–scarred woman felt her amethyst orbs shrink into the encroaching void that was the blackness itself as she thought about the conversation the two shadows were having, “spies; how in the world could any of us be spies?! That’s insane: Rainbow Dash is the most loyal of friends; she would never betray her kind, not even me…”

“Even if that’s the case, why couldn’t we simply capture them and take them to the base for interrogation?!” Ardor snapped as he'd looked upon Scootaloo’s bloodstained back and the disheveled bright skinned woman nearby, “at least we would’ve been able to gain some information as to why they’re here rather than risk killing them…!”

“They’re spies; do you think that they’d be willing to give up any information on their own free will…?!” the slimmer shadow barked back at his bulkier counterpart, snapping the latter out of his sympathetic gaze he gave to the prone Rainbow.

Ardor felt a lump in his throat grow as Ace glared at him, flashing a pair of red glints within the owner’s eyes while the former answered, “well, no, not at–––”

“Yeah, exactly…” the slim shadow interrupted before snatching the knife away, “which is why none of them should be able to return alive at all…”

“SCOOTALOO…!” the bright skinned woman cried out as the blade sank into the titular individual’s head with a faint squelch.

Now the dark skinned woman soon bled out from her very head as Ace pulled from the recent wound that he’d just made already. While that it was unlike the freshly made scars that Ardor had made before not too long ago, this particular attack was all the same. All the damaged that Scootaloo had sustained earlier was undermined by the suddenly quick brutality of the slim shadow’s act.

The bulky shadow couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of the poor victim’s bloodstained body, dishing out a restrained sigh, “are you satisfied now; should I go and put the other one out of her misery…?”

“No need to: at least this slut had learned a lesson in what we do to enemy spies in our homeland; besides, I’ve felt more alive than ever…!” the slimmer counterpart instantaneously replied with nothing more than a laugh at once, “come on, there’s so much enemy scum to deal with while the war rages on…!”

“I – yes, sir…” Ardor said as Ace left both Scootaloo and Rainbow behind in their wake, no longer bothering to deal with them in the very least.

Soon, the presence of dark shadows had decrease dramatically, reducing the otherwise populated husk of a dying conurbation back to a few, if any at all whatsoever, people. While the sights and sounds of battle continued onward without their presence, a deadening silence returned to comfort the two women who’d remained here anyway. All that remained were the remnant of what had used to be themselves at once: the bright skinned individual clean but dirtied, her darker counterpart dirty but clean. Presently and accounted for by the state of their predicament thereof, neither Rainbow nor Scootaloo ever regained the strength to move or even say anything at all.

Suddenly, a faint and pained cry was heard amongst themselves, lacking in strength but otherwise filled with nothing more than sheer desperation altogether, “sis…”