Feeling distressed, Violetta kept second guessing her decision to pull off a pillowcase and slip it over Sunset’s head to cover her eyes. She was certain that her captor would have something to say about it, but she didn’t know what else to do. The blindfold was filthy, disgusting even, and there was no way that Violetta was going to try to put it back on Sunset after all of the effort it took getting her clean. Of course, there was also the matter that Sunset looked a little silly with a pillowcase over her head. She figured that she would dismiss it as Sunset being too ugly to look at, and she hoped that if she said it, it wouldn’t hurt Sunset’s feelings too much.

Sunset seemed happy enough with the arrangement though, or at least she didn’t complain about it. She became frantic without something covering her face, and, truth be told, seeing Sunset’s eyeless sockets was downright traumatising for Violetta. When she had pulled off the nasty old blindfold, (using her teeth no less, yuck!) she had been hoping that perhaps, maybe, that Sunset being blinded was a ruse, a trick, a sham. But removing the blindfold had revealed the terrible truth. That motherfucker had taken her eyes.

It gave Violetta the resolve she needed. She was going to do something, somehow. She didn’t know what. She supposed it came down to willpower at just the right moment, whatever that moment might be. Perhaps the zebra might help her, might give her a chance—but then what? What came next? She figured that she was going to have to kill her captor. She was going to have to curb stomp him to death. She coped with her troubling thoughts by calling it a rescue, and she refused to think of it as planning a murder.

Then what?

She didn’t know.

There were a lot of troubled souls here.

Perhaps she could get them to safety. Find them some help. She liked helping. Helping was a cool thing to do and not enough people did it. Violetta volunteered for the school’s suicide hotline. It was a blind system that disguised the voices of the people on both ends, for total anonymity.

How many hours had passed? Violetta did not know. She and Sunset had slept, sharing the bed, and Violetta might have cuddled up against Sunset while sleeping. Maybe just a little. A little spooning wasn’t so bad, they had shared a bathtub together. Food had been brought twice, good food, excellent food, actually. Violetta really wanted a bacon double cheeseburger. Could little horses eat bacon double cheeseburgers? She didn’t know, but she wanted to find out. She was full, she was content, and she felt energised, which she figured was her captor’s goal.

He probably needed her to be ready for whatever he was planning.

The real trouble was passing the time. She wanted to talk with Sunset, to shoot the shit, but she maintained the silence. She had to keep her guard up, because she was certain that her captor was listening. So, she lay on the bed next to her roommate, who had a pillowcase slipped over her head, staring at the wall, looking up at the ceiling, and staring into the fire.

Violetta figured that the only real weakness her captor had was sunlight, if he was telling the truth that is. She didn’t know how to exploit that. There were no windows in this place that she had seen, and she didn’t even know what this place was. She suspected it was big, enormous even, but she didn’t know for certain.

Perhaps there was some way she could get her captor to laugh again, and keep laughing, and then, when he was wheezing and distracted, she could lay the smackdown upon him. As she lay on the bed, she thought of a thousand different scenarios, for the lack of anything better to do. She was just your everyday teenage girl, trapped in the body of a little blue horse, laying in bed with another teenage girl, also trapped in the body of a little horse, contemplating the murder of a centuries old cursed evil wizard that had an aversion to sunlight, who was also a horse, but somewhat mummified.

When the door rattled, Violetta was startled. She lifted her head and much to her own surprise, she let out a weird little whinny sound. She really was a horse, and she made startled horse noises. Much to her shock and dismay, she also farted like a horse, as the sudden movement caused a trumpeting blast to go shooting out of her other end.

The golem barged into the room, moving with speed and purpose. It lifted up Sunset from the bed, tucked her beneath its arm, and then stood there, waiting for Violetta. It was time to go. It was time to do the thing, whatever that thing was. As she slid off of the bed and onto the floor, she had one terrifying thought—what if she had to fight the golems? What if they went batshit insane and tried to kill her for harming their master?

If Violetta had pants, there would be a code brown right about now. With each passing moment, the plan seemed less and less likely to succeed. She made another fearful horse sound, she had no idea what sound she made, but it was a bellowing whine that resonated deep within her chest. Did horses have a chest? Or was it called something else? She didn’t know what her own body parts were called any more, and that distressed her more than she cared to admit.

Knowing about your own body was empowerment, or so she believed. She knew her body quite well and she stroked her kitty almost on a daily basis. She refused to live in shame of her own body, or at least tried to do so. Like anyone else, she had her moments of doubt.

Sunset squirmed a little, trying to get comfortable, while the golem stood there, impassive, unmoving, waiting for Violetta. Moving beside the golem, Violetta looked up at it, and it started to move. It had no eyes, yet it was able to see. It had no ears, but it seemed to be able to hear. It was a construct of magic, a miraculous thing. She thought of her disembodied self calling the fog and felt a shiver along her spine. Magic was power, and she couldn’t deny that she wanted to know more.

Maybe, perhaps… perhaps it might be a good idea to go along with her captor, at least for a time, so that she might learn a little of how to use her magic. Maybe, if she cooperated, if she gave him what he wanted, he might go a little easier on the others. She had a moment of lingering doubt, not sure of what to do.

The golem took off at a brisk pace, and Violetta followed, obedient.

This chamber was quite different. Large, round, and full of strange crystals that held a flickering glow to them. Quite a number of ponies were strapped into various positions. As before, the floor looked like a giant printed circuit board, with both metal and crystal conduits running from place to place. There was a smell in the air, something like a thunderstorm, the smell of electricity.

She watched as Sunset was strapped in by a golem. There wasn’t much she could do about it, or so it seemed. Violetta stood where she had been directed, upon a tall dias with a crystal base. The zebra was inside of a small cabinet that appeared to be made out of glass, perhaps it was a protective chamber of some sorts. He didn’t look like he was well, he kept his head ducked down and he stared at the floor.

There was no sign of the Master.

Looking around, she saw Sour Sweet. She didn’t know how she knew, but the little unicorn was familiar in an odd way. She looked drugged, dazed, her eyes were vacant and she was drooling, as were a number of the unicorns gathered. Violetta wondered what was up as she had herself a good look around.

Hearing hooves, Violetta turned her head, and that was when she saw him. He looked younger somehow, his coat was a little greener and his mane was a bit more yellow. His eyes didn’t quite look so sunken or filmy. He moved with a definite spring in his step. She saw him look her in the eye as he approached.

“Sorry for the delay… but I had to be ready… this is a momentous day.” The old pony smiled and a nauseating rictus appeared upon his face. “I had to consume many of the weaker ones to be ready for what we are about to do. Oh, I do feel so very spry. Not a day over two centuries. Why, I was even able to give one of the nicer looking fillies a good and proper sendoff before I devoured her essence. I feel marvellous.”

Shuddering, Violetta felt a powerful sense of revulsion at the very idea of her captor’s old, decrepit body in the throes of passion. She felt hot bile bubble in her throat. She was aware that old people, or, in this case, old ponies, fucked—but she didn’t want to think about it. Not at all. The thought rose unwanted in her mind of her captor hunched over some poor little pony’s back, grunting, huffing, and puffing as he tried to cram his old wrinkly, mummified dick into some hot, wet horse muff.

“Shall we begin?” he asked as he looked around the room.

Of course, there was no reply.

All around her, the strange machinery began to hum and vibrate. Violetta felt a peculiar sense of vertigo. One by one, the unicorns locked into place on the weird metal disks on the floor, their horns began to glow. Motes of light began to float around the room. The metal circuits on the floor began to glow and the crystal below Violetta began to throb like a beating heart.

It made her feel dizzy and lightheaded.

There was a sensation of euphoria for Violetta and her head felt like it was a balloon. Her body felt light, as if there was no longer any gravity. She felt as though she might float away at any moment. Things began to get a little bit weird. The lights around her dimmed and seemed far away.

Goodbye, a voice said between her ears, inside of her head. It was the zebra.

Goodbye? She felt her heartbeat slowing and Violetta began to realise that something was wrong. She turned to look at her captor, and she saw that he had a wicked smile. A terrible, horrible, awful wicked smile. He was looking right at her. She struggled, trying to form words, and she managed to gasp out one word.

“Why?”

Her captor let out a wheezy chuckle, then replied, “You stupid little cunt! Did you honestly think I would share my power with you?” The old pony closed his eyes for a moment and a near orgasmic expression crossed over his features. He opened his eyes again, looking younger, and he swayed from side to side as his body began to glow.

“You vapid little idiot! It is so much easier to drain a soul from a willing participant! You did nothing to resist me! Nothing to preserve yourself! You allowed yourself to be led along like a lamb to the slaughter! And the look on your face! Priceless! I watched you for years! Years! Of course I knew you were some weepy little bleeding heart and a so-called social rebel! I knew just how to pluck at your heart’s strings!”

It was at that moment that Violetta realised that she was a fool. As she grew weaker, he grew stronger. He seemed to be growing younger, his colours becoming more vibrant. Much to her horror, she appeared to be growing older and dimmer. She collapsed to the floor and it was a challenge to even keep holding her head up.

The maniacal sound of her captor’s laughter filled her ears and there was nothing Violetta could do. What was she thinking? She was a decade and a half old and for some reason, she had thought she could outwit somebody that was centuries older. She realised that old people sucked, and old perverts even moreso.

It felt as though gravity itself tugged down the corners of her mouth, causing her to frown as her face sagged and wrinkled. The full plumpness of her legs shriveled, her knees became knobby, and her legs became skeletal. With a painful plop, her head hit the platform she had collapsed upon.

“All of you are the same!” the old pony cried as he gloated. “All of you are so stupid! You think you know everything! You think you have the answers! You always think you can outsmart me, you think you are so clever, and it never stops being funny!” The stallion, now not so old, threw his head back and guffawed.

A single tear rolled down Violetta’s now leathery and withered face. No doubt, now she looked like a mummy. Everything hurt, everything ached. Her eyes felt like they were shriveling. She was a fool, and she knew that now. She was just another dumb girl that didn’t know anything, and her naiveté had cost her everything in the end.

With a gasp, Violetta Eventide breathed her last. She felt it go rattling out of her as she tried to hold it in. She wasn’t ready to let go yet. Not now, not like this. She felt a miserable feeling of failure, as she discovered in her heart that she really had wanted to save these ponies. Even with her doubt, even with her second guessing, even with her temptation, beneath it all, she had a desire to do the right thing.

And then, with one final twitch of her leathery, shriveled ear, Violetta died.

Author's Note

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