Author's Note
This is essentially a Hellraiser fix fic. With ponies. Because everything’s better with ponies.
I’ve cherry-picked what I consider the best stuff from the extremely internally inconsistent Hellraiser mythos — mainly the novella and the first film, but I also use material from the second film, the rapid-fire cenobite creation from the third film, and dialogue/material from the alternative fan ending of Bloodlines. Any Hellraiser film after Bloodlines is ignored, as is The Scarlet Gospels, though I do steal that cool-sounding name for something else.
Pony-wise, it’s set very shortly after the Season 4 Finale.
The Hellbound Hoof
“Hey, what’s up with this lame Rubik’s cube?”
“Spike, no!” Twilight telekinetically yanked the golden puzzle box out of Spike’s hand. Spike had gotten halfway through the first stage. Twilight slammed the puzzle box back to its initial configuration and put it on top of a singed bookcase.
“What?” Spike waved his stubby purple arms in frustration. “What did I do?”
Everyone else in the room had stopped what they were doing and was staring at Spike and Twilight. It had been a week or so since Tirek had destroyed the Golden Oak Library, and the fillies had gotten together to help Twilight move into her new palace.
“Are you quite all right, dear?” asked Rarity, who had been sorting out what was left of Twilight’s wardrobe and making notes on items she needed to lend her friend.
“If you need a nap or something, we’ve got this under control,” said Rainbow Dash, who was helping Fluttershy shelve the few books they’d been able to salvage from the wreckage of the library. Fluttershy nodded in agreement.
“Where do you want this mattress, anyway?” said Pinkie. She and Applejack were trying to wrestle it through the arched doorway of Twilight’s provisional bedroom. Applejack could be heard swearing and grunting in the hallway.
“No one should ever touch that box, ever,” Twilight insisted, casting around through the half-unpacked boxes, chests, and crates that littered the room for something to lock the puzzle box up in.
“How dangerous can one little box be?” asked Applejack, poking her head in between the mattress and the door frame. “And seriously where do you want this thing?”
Twilight levitated a cracked glass fishbowl over and appraised it critically. “Yes. That box is unbelievably dangerous. And over by the corner is fine, until my new bed arrives. ”
“Does the box have, like, really sharp corners, or what?” Pinkie’s rear hooves scrabbled on the floor as she tried to tug the mattress through.
“No, Pinkie, wait ’til I give the signal!” said Applejack.
Twilight set the fish bowl aside and picked up a curio case with a broken latch. “It’s what’s called a Lemarchand’s Box — one of a series of puzzle boxes that opens gateways to other realities.”
“Like the human world?” asked Spike.
“Nowhere nearly so nice. This particular box is known as the Lament Configuration. It summons a group of beings called the ‘Cenobites’ from a place called ‘Hell’.” She tossed the curio case back into the box and picked the fishbowl up again.
Rainbow looked up from flipping through a slightly singed copy of Mustang Magazine Playmates 1011–1026. “What the buck is a Cenobite?”
Pinkie waved a forehoof. “Oh, I know this! I know this! A cenobite is a member of a monastic community!” She bounced on her hooves. “I got bored and read the whole dictionary one day. I’m lexically omniscient now!”
“Pinkie, are you even pushing?” said Applejack.
Rainbow looked skeptical. “Monks don’t sound very scary.”
Twilight’s horn glowed softly as she fused the cracked glass together. “According to Ghosts, Goblins, and Ghoulish Figures, they were once group of spiritual seekers called the Order of the Gash, who were known for their practice of self-flagellation. Little by little, they set aside conventional morality to seek enlightenment by exploring outer limits of both pleasure and pain. Their practices include unfriendly magic, self-mutilation, sadomasochistic rituals, and the never-ending torture of anypony dumb enough to open that box.”
While Twilight was speaking Fluttershy had pulled an empty cardboard box over and crawled underneath it. Everyone else was staring at Twilight.
“Pinkie, pull!” said Applejack from outside the room.
“Why would anypony open it, then?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“If the Cenobites like you they’ll make you into one of them. They’ll mutilate you, cut all the friendliness out of your soul, and you get to be a monster forever.”
Rainbow shook her head. “Yeah, still not seeing the appeal.”
Rarity was aghast. “Twilight, why would you even have something like that?”
Twilight placed the repaired glass bowl up on the shelf over the box and locked it in place with a sealing spell. “To keep anypony else from getting their hooves on it. I’ve considered destroying it, but I can’t think of a way to do that that wouldn’t also technically count as opening the box. Cenobites are big on technicalities.”
Fluttershy’s voice came from under her box. “Y-you wouldn’t try to open it yourself, would you?”
“No! Of course not! I would never, ever even consider opening it. Not in a million years. I would never imagine that I could find a way to use its powers for good. That thought has literally never occurred to me.” Then she grinned. Her grin was suspiciously wide.
Applejack poked her head in through the doorframe again. “Hey, anypony wanna order a pizza?”
———
It was the next evening. Pinkie, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Spike were holed up in a back booth in Berry’s Bar.
Applejack shook her head. “I just can’t believe Twi would have something like that! She’s the friendliest pony I know!”
“Well, she sure has it. And sure she’s friendly. And brave. And smart. And the biggest bucking hero in the land. She went from grad student to number four authority in Equestria overnight. When has Twilight Sparkle ever failed? I don’t think she has any idea what her limits are.”
“So what are you thinking,” asked Pinkie, “an intervention? Like when I got addicted to snorting crushed rock candy and you all sat around in folding chairs and told me how disappointed you were by my life choices?” She sipped her mudslide and smiled at the others, who were looking at her in confusion.
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Um, Pinkie, I don’t remember that.”
Pinkie frowned. “Oh, wait. That only happened in my head. Never mind.”
Applejack tapped her chin. “Pinkie has a point, though. Should we do that? I don’t want her getting hurt.”
“Or ushering in some sort of horrifying global apocalypse and damning us all to eternal torment,” Pinkie added.
Applejack nodded, glancing at Pinkie. “That too.”
Rainbow Dash shook her head. “We can’t just scold her. She won’t listen. We have to take the box away. And I’m not gonna lay a hoof on that thing. I think we need to go over Twi’s head on this one.”
“And that shouldn’t be too hard,” said Pinkie. “You fly way better than she does.” She looked thoughtful. “Wait, how will that help?”
Applejack patted Pinkie on the shoulder. “I think she means the Princesses, Pinkie.” She turned to Rainbow. “You do mean the Princesses, right?”
Rainbow nodded. “Spike?”
Spike cracked his knuckles. “I brought paper and quills. Start dictating.”
———
When they came, Twilight was ready for them, if only because they’d chosen to teleport in and she’d felt the magical energy of their arrival. She lounged in her throne, watching as the Sun and the Moon walked across the floor of her palace. Inside, she was boiling with anger and frustration. Her friends had tattled. Betrayed her!
Why was Luna even here? If Celestia had come alone it would have been one thing. A meeting between mentor and protégé. A private discussion on a matter of importance. But Luna and Twilight had never been close. Her presence implied the full authority of the Principality, as well as the power to take the Lemarchand’s Box by force if diplomacy failed.
They were welcome to try.
“Oh my gosh! Celestia! Luna! I’m sorry everything is such a mess. I wasn’t expecting you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Little cucumber sandwiches? Maybe a glass of wine?”
“We require nothing, thank you for asking.” Luna was icy and reserved. Which was hardly news, but more so than usual.
“So, um, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Twilight smiled. She realized her smile was far too big, and toned it down a little. Celestia hadn’t spoken yet, but Twilight knew her well enough to recognize sadness, anger, and even fear hidden behind her serene features. She wanted to rush up and hug her and tell her everything about the little gold and silver box that she’d hidden for almost two years. But no. This was her business. They ought to trust her! They had made her a Princess, hadn’t they? What did that mean if she didn’t have authority over her own domain? She was Princess of Friendship and, as her research had proven, friendship was magic. And the Lament Configuration was definitely magical.
Luna frowned. “Your dreams have been closed to us, Twilight. Why is that?”
Twilight shrugged. “Oh, you know, just national security. We live in a world full of magical dangers. I was afraid that if your mind were ever to become compromised someone could use your power over dreams to get into my mind, too. So I set up some wards. Just in case. No big deal.”
Luna scowled. “We see. How cunning.”
Celestia spoke, her voice cracking. “Twilight. Oh, Twilight. We’ve heard that a Lemarchand’s Box has come into your possession. Please tell me it isn’t true.”
Twilight took a deep breath. “Yes. It is true. About a year and a half ago an agent of mine who I employ to locate and retrieve magical artifacts found the box at a bazaar in Saddle Arabia. I kept it safely hidden until Lord Tirek destroyed the library. Then it got mixed in with my other surviving possessions when I moved here, and Spike found it. So I told my friends what it was.” There had been no point in lying to them — Lemarchand’s Boxes tend to attract a disproportionate level of curiosity from those whose minds weren’t prepared, but fear did a fine job of canceling that out for all but the most greedy or stupid of ponies.
Luna narrowed her eyes. “And what is the identity of this agent?”
Twilight drew herself up stiffly. How dare Luna ask such a thing! “I don’t recall at the moment, Luna. I’m so sorry. Do you know the names of all of your Shadowbolts off the top of your head?”
Luna ruffled her wings, and took half a step back. “We have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. The Shadowbolts don’t exist. Right. My mistake. Please forgive me.” Twilight bristled. How dare Luna ask such a thing! Trixie’s acquisition of the Alicorn Amulet hadn’t been a fluke — that mare had just the right mix of magical knowledge, shady contacts, and unfailing instinct for self preservation to make her ideal for such inquiries. Twilight had learned how to create her own little black budget by overcharging the Principality for living expenses and disaster relief, and they had been in business. She was not going to do anything that might compromise Trixie’s effectiveness in the field.
Celestia sighed. “Twilight, I’m very proud of your initiative. You’ve done very well. But this box is too much for you to handle. You need to give it over to us so that we can make it safe.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “And how would you do that? I’ve done my homework on this. No one has ever succeeded in destroying one of these things. You can’t take it apart — that counts as opening it and the Cenobites come. You can’t melt it down or freeze it until it shatters, because it’s designed so that excessive heat or cold triggers the opening mechanism. Disintegration spells won’t work because they work by weakening atomic bonds, which also counts as opening the box. Ponies have tried these things. They’re dead now. If they’re lucky.”
Celestia hesitated. “We have the resources to store it safely in Canterlot.”
It would be safe in Canterlot, until some ignorant bureaucrat or curious grad student filled out the proper paperwork. And Faust help them all if Blueblood found out about it. But she wasn’t about to say that out loud. “Not as safely as I’ve stored it.”
“Last I heard you were keeping it under a fishbowl in your bedroom.”
Twilight winced, genuinely hurt. She thought Celestia knew her better than that. “That was a temporary measure, your Highness. I’ve moved it to a more secure location. If you’re able to locate it you’re welcome to take it with you.”
Celestia stepped forward and placed her cheek against Twilight’s. “Twilight. Please. I’m worried about you. So worried.”
Twilight rubbed her muzzle lovingly against her mentor’s. “I can handle this, Celestia. Please. Let me prove it to you.”
Celestia kissed Twilight on the cheek. “Why are you being like this?”
“Because I think I know how to destroy this thing. But I don’t want any of the ponies I love getting hurt. I have to do it by myself.”
Celestia moved back half a step or so. “Are you so proud that you can’t accept help, Twilight? I’d worried I might’ve raised you too soon.”
Twilight shook her head. “No.” The she hesitated, and sighed. “Well, I am, but there’s a reason, as well. The Cenobites are bound by certain rules. If they do get out, they can only take the ponies directly involved in summoning them. The fewer ponies I involve, the fewer can be affected. You two, especially, need to be well clear of Ponyville for me to do what I need to do.” Twilight looked up at Celestia. “Can you trust me, Princess? Please?”
Celestia leaned in to kiss Twilight on the nose. “I hope you know what you are doing.”
———
Twilight would’ve like more time. But she’d been delaying this day for two years, and events had finally outpaced her. Celestia, she trusted. Luna was probably already scouring the dream world looking for clues to where Twilight had hidden the box. Twilight had to act now.
Twilight landed on the tallest remaining turret of the keep of the Castle of the Two Sisters and followed the spiral staircase down inside to the room she had prepared. She had, of course, read much more about the Cenobites than what was written in a commonly available reference guide. She knew everything, and her plan to destroy the Cenobites was flawless. Summon them, trap them, kill them.
Everything was exactly as the books said it should be. She had washed the room from floor to ceiling and scattered flower petals around it. The altar, with its various offerings, had been set up against the west wall. Twilight had helped herself to a few of the bon bons – it was the least she deserved, considering what she was risking. The doves’ heads had been particularly distasteful to acquire, but she had found them easily enough at a Diamond Dog market just outside of Equestria’s borders. She had purchased them that morning, but had not bothered to put them on ice — apparently a certain amount of decay was preferred. She had prepared a jug of urine, as well. This last was meant for self-abasement on the part of the supplicant. Not bucking likely, but appearances had to be maintained.
Twilight’s final preparation would, she hoped, be less obvious.
Next was the puzzle box. Twilight opened the pocket dimension she had hidden it in. The tiny rectangular universe, a little more than a hoof on a side, was already beginning to warp and decay. Creating a stable universe would have taken enough energy that Luna would have been able to find it with ease. She dispersed the pocket dimension and set to work on the puzzle.
The box was reputed to be difficult to open, but Twilight didn’t find it so. She supposed it only needed to be hard enough to entice the simple-minded — to lead them to believe that there was something worth having within. Far too soon the scent of vanilla and putrescence began to fill the room. A bell began to sound as she clicked the last piece into place. The walls began to open.
Twilight would have liked to say that she was ready for the hooks. They jammed themselves into her flesh with a sickening thud and the chains attached to them tightened, lifting her into the air. The pain was hardly the worst she’d ever experienced — that would have been the day when Tirek took her magic. But as physical pain went, this was way up there.
The ponies were beautiful, in a way. Scarified white hide had been twisted into flowing vestments of black leather. Their bodies were accented with splashes of red where that hide had been carefully pulled away to reveal the raw muscle beneath it.
She recognized each of the four from her reading. There was the sexless, emaciated pegasus, with its lips pulled back by hideous dental hardware to leave its chattering teeth bare. There was the absurdly fat earth pony stallion, his swollen belly dragging on the ground ahead of his priapic, flayed, and pierced erection. And there was the unicorn mare, with her stony, angular face. An elaborate yoke framed her neck. Small chains attached to it held four triangular flaps of skin back to expose her larynx.
And the last, the Priest of Hell, his bald head marked with a grid of deep scars. At every vertex of that grid, a slender nail had been driven into his skull. Twilight found herself thinking of him as “Needle Noggin”.
“Twilight Sparkle,” growled the Priest.
“You… you know who I am?” she asked, genuinely surprised.
The Priest smiled. “We have followed your career with interest for some time, your Highness.” His voice was deep, resonant, and full of malice. “Our supplicants are usually of a much lower quality than yourself. The delights that we offer are so often misunderstood.”
The Mare chuckled. “Do you remember the Cotton family? There was a pack of winners. Flank Cotton thought we would bring him mares — beautiful mares. And then he had the unmitigated gall to be disappointed by me.” Her laughter had a chiming, metallic quality as though produced by a music box.
The Chatterer said something, but its words were lost in the hardware lining its mouth. The Mare clucked, and rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose.”
“But you,” the Priest continued, “you understand. You know why we do what we do. You have read of the knowledge we possess.”
Twilight swallowed. “Yes. I know. I know you know the secret of the Scarlet Gospels — the art of reshaping souls.”
“Oh, we know much more than that, your highness. We have lived for millennia, and seen so many worlds. We have learned secrets — so many dark, wonderful secrets. We have such sights to show you!”
“I don’t know,” said Twilight, “the tuition seems a little steep.” The weight of her body was pulling the hooks slowly through her flesh, sending lances of pain through her limbs. She was trying to be brave, but tears were wetting the fur of her cheeks. She had to keep them talking a little longer. Her trap needed more time to charge.
“You understanding is clouded by your mortality,” said the Priest. “True knowledge exists beyond the desires and needs of the flesh. Our pain has taught us that, and so much more.”
“I’ve read other interpretations. It’s widely believed that your mortifications have driven you mad. Or that you torture and mutilate others in a desperate attempt to validate your questionable life choices. Or that it’s all just a sex thing. I favor the last theory myself.”
“Hell is not mocked, Twilight Sparkle.” The Priest waved his hoof, and the chains tightened. The hooks dug deeper into her, threatening to rip bloody chunks from her muscles. She began to worry – she might be crippled or dead by the time her trap was ready. Time for Plan B.
“Join us, or we will tear your soul apart,” hissed the Priest.
“Thanks, Needle Noggin, but I think I’m going to take option three, actually.” Sparks flew from Twilight’s horn, and a vertical line of blue light flicked around her in a circle. Moxie’s Magical Mincer was a powerful last-ditch self defense spell, and it served quite well to sever the chains holding her. Twilight’s hooves hit the floor but the chains didn’t. They were Hell-forged steel, as hard and sharp as anything in either universe — the Cenobites had provided her with deadly weapons she could wield with simple telekinesis.
The battle began well.
The Chatterer dove towards her, razor-sharp horseshoes gleaming. She knocked it back with a hook across the face, and wrapped a second chain around its legs. It howled, blood pouring from its ruined muzzle, and spread its wings. Twilight lopped them off with a simultaneous double hook swing. She heard a gagging noise to her right. It was an attack she’d been prepared for. She spun a chain in a blindingly fast circle, creating a fan that blew the Butterball Cenobite’s stream of black vomit back into its face. It wailed, hooves reaching up to paw helplessly as the bile ate through flesh and bone.
Then the Mare entered the fray. Twilight was barely fast enough to bring up a magical heat shield to block the beam of fire that shot from the Mare’s horn. Close behind the fire, a half-dozen diamond-edged daggers flew through the air. Twilight ducked and rolled and swung a chain to block them. She didn’t get them all — one thudded into her haunch; another nearly severed her right ear. Twilight responded with a gravity spell that knocked the Mare back against the far wall.
Twilight tried to stand up but her injured legs failed her. She jerked herself up with telekinesis. The Priest had been still and silent through all of this. Twilight was puzzled — even though he had been born an earth pony his magical knowledge was legendary, and she would have expected him to have joined the battle by now. She hurled all three remaining hooks at him, just to be safe. Weapons were nothing but a distraction in a magical duel. By this time, the Mare had recovered. She launched a barrage of pure magical energy at Twilight. Twilight blocked and countered. The two circled each other, evenly matched for the moment. The air between them shone and crackled with magical energy. Every once in a while a spell would slip through Twilight’s defense, leaving a singed stripe across her coat. Twilight was landing shots as well, but they Mare seemed impervious to pain. Which shouldn’t have been a surprise, now that Twilight stopped to think about it.
Twilight certainly had the edge in raw power. She redoubled her efforts, pouring everything into a thunderous fusillade that drove the Mare back across the room. But the Mare was cunning. She feinted with a flashy barrage of weak shots, and then jammed a powerful bolt of electricity through Twilight’s shield, stunning her and knocking her to her knees.
Twilight felt a weight on her back. The Chatterer was on her, its sharpened horseshoes digging into her throat. His teeth were broken, twisted and bleeding — had it gnawed through its chains?
The Mare stood over her. A half-dozen new wounds marred her couture, and she was missing an eye, but she was smiling as though she’d won a grand victory. “Very impressive, little foal. I’ve not had a battle like that in five hundred years. You’ve ruined my looks, of course. But it’s all right. By the time I’m done with you…”
Twilight reached out with a barely noticeable flick of telekinesis. The jug of urine hit the mare in the back of the head and shattered, covering her with horse piss. She wailed in disgust — some things are just too much, even for a Cenobite.
“Time’s up,” Twilight said. With the Mare distracted, it was safe for her to teleport herself out of the room. A fraction of a second later it was filled with fire and light.
Twilight had learned a thing or two being the mistress of the sun for a day. The flames were teleported in directly from the sun. Only a double-strength magnetic shield and the extreme brevity of the spell kept it from immolating the entire Everfree. Half a second, and there should be nothing left — even of creatures so tough as the Cenobites.
Twilight stood on the roof of the tower, gasping. He fur was soaked with blood. Much of it — far too much — was her own. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and cauterized her wounds — they would scar horribly, but she couldn’t afford to pass out from blood loss.
Then she cast a heat shield spell and teleported back into the room. There was still work to do.
Everything was burned. Stone had melted, fusing the charred remains of the altar and the corpses of the Cenobites with the floor and walls. But the Lament Configuration was sitting exactly where she had left it, and Needle Noggin was still there, seemingly unharmed.
He grinned. “And here I’d thought you’d left us. Twilight Sparkle — so eager to play. So reluctant to admit it!” said the Priest.
Twilight readied a half-dozen spells and steeled herself for another fight, but then she noticed the melted chains fused with the wall behind him. Lead filled her belly as she cast an anti-illusion spell and the Priest disappeared. She had been tricked.
Twilight gritted her teeth, returned the puzzle box to its inert position, and slammed it into her saddlebag. Then, with a howl of despair, Twilight blasted a hole in the castle wall, and rocketed towards Ponyville.
The treetops of the Everfree Forest whipped past underneath Twilight. How long had she been talking to the illusory Priest? Had she ever been talking to the real one at all? There was no time to lose. She was sure he was headed to Ponyville, and she was sure horrible things would happen when he got there. But if Twilight hurried…
A massive golden tail rose up out of the forest and slammed into Twilight, knocking her out of the air. She instinctively brought up an impact shield as branches and leaves began to flash past. Trees shattered as she shot through them. The magical backlash fed back into her horn, making her feel like her head was about to split in half. She plummeted, slamming through stronger and stronger trees. The friction of her passage began to create sparks, then flames. Her shield slammed into the ground, driving itself ten hooves into the soil before it stopped. Twilight deactivated her shield. A clod of dirt fell on her head. She sighed, and crawled out of the hole.
A fire was raging in the Everfree. Rising above the fire was a massive, golden-scaled, and wingless dragon. It caught sight of her and opened its jaws, and a stream of green fire flashed towards her. Twilight effortlessly deflected the fire and flapped back into the air.
Wait. Green fire. “Oh no.”
Twilight dove and twisted, making herself harder to target, the way Rainbow Dash had taught her. A massive claw whipped past her, knocking feathers from her wings. She had to get close enough to see. To make sure.
Twilight zoomed by, her wingtip nearly brushing the dragon’s side. Close enough to see that the gold plates were riveted to green and purple scales. She began to climb. “Oh, Spike. What has he done to you?”
Flames flashed after her. She was very high now — high enough to see for miles. High enough that she had to struggle to maintain altitude in the thin air. Her horn glowed. Below, winds began to swirl around Spike.
“Hush now, quiet now…” The wind whipped through the broken branches around the dragon. Flames, both orange and green, flickered and died. The dragon lumbered around, searching, unsure what attack Twilight was preparing.
“…It’s time to lay your sleepy head…” The wind played a melody as it whipped through tree branches. Spike blinked. His eyelids were growing heavy. He yawned.
“…Hush now, quiet now…” Twilight let herself drift lower, spiraling down through the clouds. The dragon staggered, and swung his claws at her even though she was far, far out of reach.
“…It’s time to go to bed.” Spike fell, crashing down amongst the burned and broken trees around him.
Twilight landed on Spike’s nose. She could see blood under the gold plates on his face where Needle Noggin had nailed them into Spike’s skull. She kissed him on the eyelid, then put her face against the center of his forehead. Her horn glowed green for a few minutes.
“He’ll pay, Spike. I promise you, he will pay.” She kissed the dragon’s sleeping form again, and launched herself into the air.
———
Ponyville was burning with green flames. The roads were clogged with fleeing ponies. They pointed as Twilight flew overhead. The princess. Their heroine. Their salvation. And the cause of all of this, though they didn’t know it yet.
Needle Noggin was waiting for her when she landed on Ponyville common. He was standing in the midst of five t-shaped scaffolds. Her friends were crucified on them, held in place with barbed wire.
“What took you so long, your Highness?” said the Priest. “I got bored and started without you.”
Pinkie Pie’s mane fell straight and lank over one eye. The other eye glared at Twilight. “We’re having such a nice party, Twilight. I’m so glad you could make it.”
“It’s not so bad, Pinkie,” said Fluttershy. “I always knew something like this was going to happen to me.” Her eyes were red from crying. Twilight could see that there was vomit crusted in amongst the blood on her fur. “Now that it has, I know that nothing worse than this can happen to me, ever again. I don’t have to be afraid any more! It’s so wonderful!” And she smiled. Twilight could hear Fluttershy’s teeth grinding together.
“Oh, Fluttershy. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Twilight felt like she was going to be sick herself.
“Please, darling,” said Rarity, her voice trembling, “we all... we all make mistakes, don’t we.” Twilight looked at Rarity’s wounds, and knew that her pure white coat would show every scar from the barbed wire for the rest of her life.
Twilight hung her head. “I didn’t want to involve you, because I was afraid you might get hurt.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “And look how well that worked out.” A loop of barbed wire was dug in deep under her jaw, forcing her to hold her head up and to the side or risk tearing open a jugular.
“The important thing, though,” said Applejack, between clenched teeth, “is that we’re all together again.”
“Yes,” hissed Pinkie. “Dear Princess Celestia, today I unleashed the dammed to torment the virtuous. That was a big mistake. Everyone died screaming. Oops. But at least we died together. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.”
“If I could have a moment, ladies?” said Twilight.
“Oh, of course,” said Pinkie. She began humming to herself.
Twilight turned to the Priest. “You’re breaking your own rules. These ponies are innocent. They didn’t even know I planned to open the box.”
The Priest growled. “You broke the rules first. You attacked us, and murdered my companions. Now, we are thrown back on the oldest law. Lex talionis. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. You killed my friends. But one can always make new friends. Isn’t that right, Princess?”
Twilight didn’t answer.
“But I only need three of them. Which three, Princess. Should I let you choose?”
“Two. You already mutilated Spike.”
The Priest laughed. “That animal does not count.”
“It’s not important. I’m not going to play your game. We’re done here. I wanted to destroy you — not only because you are evil, but because I was afraid that in my lust for knowledge I would become like you. I wanted to face your darkness, because I hoped that in destroying your darkness, I could destroy my own.”
“Yeah, not to be harsh on you Twi, but it kind of had the opposite effect,” said Rainbow.
“You can say that again,” said Applejack.
Twilight nodded. “It’s true. I made a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake. But I’m not like you. Do you know why, Needle Noggin?”
“Do not call me that!”
Twilight lifted her head high. “Because I’m a pony. You left that behind a long time ago. And because when things were looking bad, you ran away from your friends. And I ran towards mine.”
“I’m sure your friends will be a great comfort to you when the maggots are eating your eyes from the inside!” said the Priest.
Applejack sighed. “Yeah. As I was saying: the important thing is that we’re all here together.”
“Seriously. You ready for me to kick this chump’s plot for you, Twi?” said Rainbow.
Twilight nodded. “I think it’s about that time.” Prismatic light lanced from her body to the bodies of her friends. The barbed wire fell away, and the five fillies were lifted off their crosses by clouds of radiance while the rainbow beams converged on Twilight.
“But your Elements! I have studied you! You are powerless without your Elements!” The Priest reared up on his hind legs and raised his hooves. Lighting crackled between them, but he was too late. Twilight seized him in a beam of light and lifted him in the air. His spell flickered out.
“Study isn’t everything, egghead,” said Rainbow, rubbing her neck.
“You simply have to keep abreast of current events, darling. We internalized our Elements a week and a half ago. Do try to keep up,” growled Rarity.
Twilight had the Priest at her mercy, but she hesitated. She could destroy the Priest easily, and she had no qualms about that. But the Lament Configuration had survived her attempt to destroy it. She had defeated the Order of the Gash, but Hell could replace them.
She turned to her friends. “I’m sorry, friends. There’s something else I have to do.”
Before they could try to stop her, she flicked her hoof at the Priest, yanking him towards her. “Come to Mommy.” A cross of brilliant blue light enveloped them, and folded itself into a box. And then with a flash, Twilight and the Priest were gone.
The five stared at the place where the two had been.
“Um, where’s Twilight?” asked Applejack.
Pinkie started to laugh.
———
Twilight and Needle Noggin sat in the box of white light, staring at each other. They were quiet for a long time.
At long last, Twilight spoke up. “All right. I surrender.”
“You... you surrender?” the Priest’s lower eyelid twitched.
“I surrender. I’m trapped in here with you. I’m exhausted from battle, and I’m separated from my friends. There’s no way I can beat you. You’ve won.”
“This is a trick. A filthy pony trick.”
“Well then,” said Twilight, “We’re going to be here a while. I’m glad I brought something to read.” She pulled a small paperback novel from her saddlebags, and instantly became absorbed in it.
The Priest howled with rage, and tore the tools of the great Engineer of Hell from his belt. They flew from his hooves, unfolding into bandsaws, scalpels, and clamps. Twilight screamed as icy steel sliced through her coat. In seconds, her wings were stripped away. Her skin was flayed from her sides, and ribs were twisted and broken. Purple hide was stretched across rib bone and bolted to her wing-shoulders, and iron bands were summoned and fastened to the torn muscles of her barrel to keep her heart and lungs inside. A crown appeared, heavy and iron black. Holes were drilled in her skull, and nails slammed through to anchor the crown home. Then the tools withdrew, folded themselves into neat little packets, and hovered in the air between them.
Twilight Sparkle stood shaking, dizzy with shock, her head bowed under the weight of her new crown. The Priest laughed. “Now do you understand, Your Highness? Do you see the secret of our power?”
Twilight nodded. “Yes. There is power in pain. Especially when combined with sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” the Priest spat. “A lie told to sheep! The will to power is supreme!”
Twilight’s eyes began to glow. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got a lot of that, too. Hey, look, now that I’m a Cenobite, I can use your tools.” The tools, enveloped in purple light, unfolded again. They turned towards the Priest. Twilight stepped towards him over her severed wings, a joyless grin splitting her face. “You hurt my friends. Now your suffering will be legendary. Even in Hell.”
It was hours before the Priest’s screams stopped.
———
Twilight stood on a ledge overlooking a labyrinth. Below her, catwalks, stairways, chambers and rows of arches tangled in grotesque confusion. She had traveled far in the tesseract she had created with the last of the rainbow power. All the way to Hell.
Some of her books had suggest that Hell might be a place like Tartarus, where the wicked were protected and cared for — kept where they could not harm others, or themselves. But she heard the countless screams echoing below her, and realized that this was only a place of suffering. There was no need for this. Not in any universe.
Twilight turned to the ashen plain behind her. She closed her eyes, and her horn flickered. Electricity crackled across her crown and her new, thestral-like wings. Her mind reached out across the Bulk, the void between universes, and found the beacon she had placed on Spike. She pulled him through.
“Twilight,” he rumbled. His eyes were clouded, but he was slowly regaining his senses. “It hurts.”
Twilight hugged his massive, gold-armored chest. “I know. I’m sorry.” She had hidden her soul in amongst her dreams — this sounded very poetic, but it was really an exacting and fairly painful procedure. It had been hidden, there, safe from Luna’s prying and from the Priest’s attempt to reshape it as he had her body. A few slices transferred to Spike had been enough to give him back his sanity, and his self control. “It’s my fault that this happened to you.”
Spike smiled. Teeth glistened. “You won, didn’t you?”
“Did you see the others? Are they all right?”
Spike nodded. “Rarity, AJ, and Rainbow are okay. Really sad, though. I’m worried about Pinkie and Fluttershy.” He pointed a claw at his huge head and moved it in a circling motion.
Twilight sighed. “We can’t help them. We’ve changed. There’s no place in Equestria for us any more.”
Spike nodded. “So now what?”
Twilight turned back to the horizon. Spike saw that the flayed head of the Priest was tied to her saddlebags. Its eyes turned to watch him as she walked to the edge of the ledge. In the distance a massive structure rotated — it looked like two pyramids fused together at the wide ends. Beams of darkness lanced from it, searching the maze below. It was Leviathan, the ruler of Hell. It emitted a strange pulsing hum. As Twilight listened to it, she realized it was a message in a telegraph code she recognized. Long-long-short. Long-long-long. Long-short-short. “God”. She snorted. She’d see about that.
“This place,” Twilight said, sweeping a hoof across the horizon. “It has to go.”
Spike cracked his knuckles.
The Princess and the dragon descended into Hell. And Hell howled.
