Why don’t fat ponies explode?
They stuff their faces with snack after snack, eating well beyond what they need to run their love ridden bodies, yet they don’t explode?
Why can’t they just BLOW UP and DIE!
I blink. Reality comes back like a whip piercing my shell. Heavy, bloated, it felt like my eyes were going to pop. Back in Canterlot. That love bubble was pure, potant love, so full that we couldn’t eat it fast enough. Our bodies could not stop the sheer force of love, and that love bacame a solid wall, pushing us into the sky.
You stuff the fat pony with food, then he gets fatter, but doesn’t explode. You fill me and my family with love, the same as food, and we grow as well. We expland like the fat ponies, but that expansion is impeded by our shell.
Out shell is what keeps our insides from going outside, and when that part of our body cracks or ruptures, we leak out.
I scream! Something inside my right eye moved.
I suddenly feel hot sand cooking my outside. My body made impact with the ground. We were in a desert, dry air filled my lungs as I took my last breath. The stench of love was cloying. And the sounds, like popcorn turning inside out, but with living beings. My children.
Their blood coated my body as they exploded from too much love.
I land into the five alarm fire sand, and a scream escapes my lips as the pressure changed, moving more toward my belly. I thought I would split open.
The pain under my eye became like a spider massaging my optic nerve with rusty sewing needles.
My brain had enough time to pursue its last thought as what riddled around her socket finally came through.
The assassin bug. The ultimate failsafe that made the shield of love look like a foal popping gum bubbles.
My father, the last patriarch. He had a secret science team roam the world, collecting weapons. He wasn’t the kind of changeling to toy with his food. He would have invaded the ponies weapons bared: swords, axes, winged spears, everything to kill. The ponies would have been easy prey. Their armor leaves vital areas like the stomach and legs clear for a brutal, bloody slash. The earth pony and pegasi ponies would be at their worst, because a mouth is nowhere near as dextrous as hands.
He would have killed them all, and sucked not love, but fear.
He never knew how loved filled more then fear. He never cared for anything but the sting of war, or, maybe that’s what I see of him. He never had any personal moments with me.
I guess this is the whole life flashes before your eyes kinda thing because right now I’m seeing myself tending to the garden and watching him go by. Never looking at me, never showing that he cared.
Every memory was one with my father. My father dominated my thoughts, my last thought.
The assassin bug skittered, and I began to feel its head poking out from its fleshy prison.
My final memory is my the passing of the torch.
Me sitting on the bed, hard and uncomfortable, in gray, mud and saliva walls, my father taking off his helmet.
I’d never seen his hair. His mane. Never had I seen the mane of a male, and instead of everyone's green, his was blue. Blue like the deep ocean. It sucked away all light, and all hope. I cringed, and looked away.
He grunted.
I looked back to see his left eye twitch. He fought the pain, and I didn’t react until I saw the blood.
“The ultimate weapon.” he groaned, “is now yours to carry…”
His words fell into a disjointed song of pain and agony. One I will sing shortly.
A little bug began crawling out from his eye ball. It was a bright red, blood red. I couldn’t tell if its color was red or my father’s blood turned it red. The bug got bigger, and even with my father scream curling my own blood, I noticed it was about the size of a cockroach
It was free and scurried down his body toward me.
“This bug is what will avenge the death of the new Queen, Queen Cryslice. My passing will now mark your ascension.
“You said this was my coronation!” I screamed, backing away from the chittering bug, snapping its mandibles.
“You know the passing of the assassin bug is the only way to truly become become the monarch!” He grabbed me. Forced me down. The bug came closer and I swear its eyes were red. Quickly I felt the bug grab my lower eyelid.
I could see every little dimple, every divot, every whisker; watching its buggy eyes move and never stop looking directly at me. That made me scream.
Then it dove head first, and my screams became wails from the abyss.
Far too long I squirmed, my tears only lubricating his penetration.
With a pop the assassin bug left my eye and began to do its dirty work.
It will now bring an end to the pony race.
It will dig into the flesh of a pony, and begin eating. Inside, as it ate, it would grow. Press against the innards of its host, and eat more. It would eat just to make room so the pressure didn’t make him pop inside.
The screams of pain alone would debilitate even one with strongest pony will, and the flesh tearing and blood splatter would send them running for the hills. But what will leave the ones curious enough to look back standing in a puddle of their own shame would be the pony sized assassin bug along with hundreds of babies, coming out of the open and tearing neck of its victim.
No one will survive.
Ponies are done.
The last still image of the world, a desert plain with a tiny, red, dot moving to the far off Crystal City.
Author's Note
I wrote this in an hour.
This was heavily influenced by the scariest horror movie i'd ever seen, Stung
I have thought of a second chapter, but I won't write it unless you guys want me to. So, do you want to see how the ponies of the Crystal Empire deal with the Assassin Bug? Not well, I assure you.