Crimson Prose

``` Hatter was hunkered down in a hastily dug trench which spread across the landscape like a scar. His horn was glowing, and his magic was wrapped around the wooden handles of to a pair of serrated trench knives. His heart was beating out of his chest, his breath was coming in rapid bursts. This was war.

He looked to the left, to a huge, scar matted lilac stallion. He was a titan, standing almost twice the height of Hatter with muscles that made his limbs look comparable to tree trunks. Each of his colossal limbs ended in blood caked steel horse shoes that had crushed dozens to death this night alone.

The name of this seemingly unstoppable warrior? Lavender the Barbarian. “Lav! They've got us pinned down here! We need to retreat to the other trench!” As if to illustrate his point, a white furred earth pony in gold armour leapt into the trench and tried to run the giant pony through with a spear. Lavender stepped to the side with a speed unbefitting his size.

He kicked the spear out of the ponies mouth like it was nothing more then a stick. Then he spun, his rear hoof smashing into the gorget of the stallion’s armour, caving in the metal and his throat with equal ease. He left the stallion choking to death on his own blood as he faced Hatter.

“We don’t need to retreat just yet. We need to give the others as much time to prepare as possible!” “That’s easy for you to say,” A third member of their group said, a light blue stallion with a spear wedged in his side, “You’re not the one with a big pointy-”

He was suddenly cut off by a scream as the fourth member of their group tore the spear from his side, quickly getting to work sewing and bandaging up the wound. Her name was Necrosis and she was a dark brown egasus pony, and ironically for her name, she was the medic of their group.

Hatter peaked up over the edge of the trench “Oh fuck. Oh FUCK! We’ve really got to go!” He suddenly yelled. Marching towards them was death on hoof, he assumed they looked the same as the normal guards, with white fur and a blue mane, but it was impossible to tell. Their helmets covered their whole head, apart from a pair of slits for eyeholes, and a dozen smaller holes to breath through.

They had huge gold riot shields with small rectangles cut out of them to see through. Hatter’s knives and Lavender’s hooves would not do anything against armour that thick, but that was far from their biggest problem. This was the elite sun guard, the best of the best, and where they went…

“Oh Luna! It’s her, It’s the sun goddess!” The blue stallion suddenly screamed, making Hatter snap his head to the sky, and their she was. She was flying high above them like the god she was, her mane was an inferno, her yellow eyes burned like a supernova.

She was the purest of whites, and wore the finest gold regalia. Yet she brought with her nothing but death. Hatter felt his heart sink in his chest at the same moment he saw her horn light up like the sun. Lavender barely gave the order to run when she finally weaved her spell. A huge column of fire shot from her horn and bisected the trench, running along it and incinerating everything in its path. It turned the water to steam, which cascaded towards him almost as quickly as the heat.

Hatter threw himself from the trench, galloping away before he fell onto his back, staring at the beam of pure white fire that was burning his friends and comrades with the same ease as the water. Lavender screamed as the steam hit him and begin to cook him alive. Thankfully Hatter did not see the beam hit him because of the thick layer of steam that was put out.

His whole body was numb as he watched, not even realising that his knives had clattered to the floor somewhere. He watched with horrified fascination as the steam slowly cleared. The earth had been baked hard and cracked like clay, his friends had been reduced to ash, and…

No, not all his friends had been reduced to ash, Rebound, the light blue stallion had been hit by the very edge of the beam, the heat had withered, blackened and warped his back legs, then had burnt and scared halfway up his back. He was still alive however, and he was screaming, slowly crawling towards him. His eyes were frantically begging for help, and Hatter could provide non.

He just stared at his friend, and his friend stared back with eyes that were filled with agony as he slowly did the only thing he could to make the pain stop.

And that was dying.

Hatter awoke in a cold sweat, his party healed wounds quickly bringing him back from the nightmarish reality of his dreams to the nightmarish reality of the waking world. He sat up on the soft cushion slowly, rubbing a hoof against the thick leather collar that was keeping him trapped here.

How long was he going to be trapped here in the hellscape before Crimson finally let death take him? Days, weeks, months… No, it was likely going to be years. He had made the mistake of entertaining her, and as a reward for that she was going to keep him as a pet. A pet that was going to be put through every hell on earth…

Well he was not going to play her game. His horn glowed to life and he grabbed the chain that kept him bound, then he begin to slowly wrap the cold metal around his collar, looping it over and over, pulling himself closer and closer to the wall with each loop. Finally he was at the hoop that held his chain in place, he looped it until his neck was pressed against this hoop, then he pulled the chain around once more, almost needing to stand on his hind hooves as it cut off the blood supply to his brain.

He could feel the chain through the gaps either end of his collar, like the cold hooves of death as they starved his brain of oxygen. He leaned against the wall and gave a smile, waiting for the end of his life like one would wait for a bus. Then the door swung open.

Hatter stared right into the eyes of Crimson Prose, and Crimson Prose stared right into the eyes of Hatter. “No! What are you doing!” She said, rushing over and spinning him around so that the chain loosened its grip around his neck. He coughed and spluttered, his traitorous body sucking in oxygen to keep itself alive.

His mistress pinned him down and stared him straight in the eyes. She did not look angry, she just looked kind of… Sad. He stared up at her as she held him down. “Why did you do this pet! I was just coming to tell you that I made you a wonderful breakfast and you’re trying to take yourself away from me!” She shook him softly, genuinely looking ready to cry.

He only managed to give a pathetic noise followed by a “Sorry.”

She dropped him back against the stone and sighed, kicking him softly in the gut before she undid his chain with a flash of her magic, then moved him over to the table and sat him at one of the cushions there. Then she moved off and just… left him there, feeling rather stupid with himself.

Hatter did not know he could go from hating somebody to feeling bad for hurting them so fast, and this mare had just done it to him again. He slowly looked up at the ceiling and sighed. All of a sudden he didn't want to die. This mare was fucking with his emotions. He hated it!

Then Crimson prose came back with two plates of pancakes held in her magic, and suddenly he was unable to hate her. She placed the plates down on the table and frowned at him. He looked down at the white porcelain plate, and at the fluffy disks placed on them. They were slathered in butter and syrup, and he could feel his mouth starting to water just from looking at them.

His limbs were still hurting like hell, but right now he was just focused on pancakes. She noticed him looking and gave a soft giggle that still managed to border on insanity. “You can eat them if you promise not to hurt yourself any more, only I get to hurt my pet!”

Her pet paused for a moment, thinking about it for a moment. “OK Mistress. Please can I have a fork?” He asked, putting on his politest voice. She paused for a moment, then floated over a fork from her plate for him, and a knife and a fork for herself.

Hatter took the fork in his magic and gingerly stabbed it into the plate of pancakes. He twisted it until a bit of pancake broke off, then floated the fork to his mouth, placing the buttery, syrupy treat in his mouth. He shuddered in bliss, working his tongue over the morsel before swallowing, feeling the sweet goodness slide down his gullet.

It was one of the most amazing things he had tasted in an age. He stabbed his fork into the pancakes again, tearing off another, larger chunk and stuffing it into his mouth. Crimson watched him eat with a slightly disturbing smile, seeming to enjoy the fact that he liked her food a bit too much.

“Did I put the right amount of butter and syrup on them?” She asked, to which Hatter gave a rapid nod, his mouth too full to respond with words. Her face seemed to light up even more at this, and she clapped her pristine white hooves together happily. “Good! I worked really hard making them, it took me aaaaallll morning.”

Hatter nodded rapidly at her words, greedily chewing down the pancake. He did not even comprehend them fully, he just wanted to be left alone to eat his delicious pancakes. His mouth was lighting up with the most amazing flavours ever, he wished he had a bigger mouth so that he could fit more of them in.

All too fast, he had eaten all the pancakes and was licking at the bottom of a very empty plate. She grinned softly at him as he finished the pancakes, before she suddenly moved over and wrapped her hooves tightly around his neck, nuzzling warmly into his neck. He let out a pleased noise, rubbing the fluff of his neck against her.

She then stepped back, keeping a hoof wrapped tightly around his horn before she slammed his head into the table. Hatter was caught totally off-guard by the attack, and only managed to stumble towards the wall in retaliation.

She pulled out her kitchen knife from somewhere, pinning him against the wall by his throat with a hoof as her expression turned dark. “I’m glad you enjoyed your pancakes pet, but you still hurt yourself, and for that you need to be punished!”

She held his head against the table, raising the kitchen knife with a mad glint in her eye. She was not using her magic, relying on the brute strength of her hooves. Hatter begin to struggle roughly, but he barely had time to do so before the knife came swinging down.

It came carving through the air, they carved straight through the base of his horn with equal ease. There was a tight bundle of nerves at the base of the horn that were destroyed by the knife, making it much harder for his horn to grow back.

That was the least of his worries however, because nerves were also used to send pain signals to the brain, and those pain nerves were currently firing off in a haywire fashion to warn him of the obvious fact that his horn had just been cut off. He screeched, eyes rolling back as his body begin to go haywire too.

His vision was white, everything he knew was pain. It was wrapped around his body like a blanket, trying to crush him alive. He struggled, feeling as if he was underwater. He scrambled and scraped at blanket mentally, trying to tear it away. But he couldn't, and it slowly pushed down on him, and he quickly fell into blackness.

He awoke a short while later, his head feeling like a dragon was going ten rounds with it. His mouth was dry and his limbs felt weak… But his chains! His chains were gone! He rubbed a hoof around the back of his neck just to check, and his chain was indeed gone!

He galloped around in a circle, just to test out his newfound freedom. He could run around the table, he could go to all four walls, he could even go to the door if he wanted.

Despite all this, he still did not feel quite free, and it was not until he begin vomiting all over one of the walls he realised why; His horn was gone. That bitch had dug the horn from his head while he had been passed out in a heap. No wonder he was having trouble thinking straight, an operation like that was sure to scramble a few things up.

He frowned, wiping the vomit from his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He was nothing but a dumb earth pony now. In the least, he still had his trench coat. He couldn't live without the warmth that it provided. The jacket provided that tiny bit of protection that stopped him going totally insane. Without his horn, his skills and weapon of choice were all but useless.

He was not a war veteran any more, nor was he a famous killer. In one fell swoop Hatter had lost everything. He was just another earth pony now. He slowly sat down next to the puddle of vomit, casting his gaze around the cold stone walls that made up his room. For the first time, his veil of insanity slowly lifted, and the full weight of the situation begin to sink into him.

He had been captured by a psychotic mare, and now he did not have his magic or his weapons. She would be able to do whatever she wanted to him, and now there was nothing he would be able to do to stop her. In this moment of brief clarity, Hatter felt afraid.

So he started to cry. He did not feel it at first, his vision just started to get blurry as the tears built up. It was not until he felt the cold drops of water starting to roll down his cheeks he realised what was happening. It had been years since he had last cried, and the feeling was strange to the broken stallion.

He dabbed at the tears with a hoof, then brought the hoof out so that he could look at it. Crying was not something he did, crying was something other people did when he cut them open. He tried to justify the tears to himself, to make sense of them. But he couldn't, and the tears just got worse and worse until they were cascading down his face in a ceaseless torrent.

Hatter did not know what to do, so he did the only thing he could, and gave into the strange feeling that was tearing into him. A heart wrenching sob burst forth from his mouth, sounding more like a frightened school filly rather then a grown stallion. He leaned back against the wall, the stone holding him up as he let all the sadness out of him.

He was not the kind of pony that understood emotion very well, which feelings linked to which words confused him. Something had broken inside the stallion long ago, and ever since it had only been rare moments of clarity in which he could act like a normal pony. This was one of those times, and the weight of the situation he was in had come crashing down upon him all at once, like a speeding train.

He had still been trained as a mercenary however, and that sort of training did not just go away. The stallion allowed himself this moment of weakness, he let the tears and the sadness flow out of him, dripping to the floor next to the puddle of vomit.

Afterwards, he felt a lot better for having done so. His head was still going to be funny over the next few days, he had just had a life altering operation after all. But now he was much better. In his moment of clarity he had realised that he was fucked, so he should just submit to this mare, and hopefully she would be nice to him. If not, at least she would get bored quickly and kill him.

The stallion let out a sigh, then slowly moved over to the door and politely begin to knock on it. He needed to get his “mistresses’” attention. The word felt weird even when he was thinking it, but he was sure that in time, it would become second nature to him. He waited a few minutes, and then decided that she had gone out. A sigh escaped his lips as he slowly stepped away from the door, and as far from the puddle of sick as he could get.

Strange as it was, he was not worried, nor frightened any more. The only thoughts going through his head at the moment were him wondering when dinner time was going to arrive, he was starting to get hungry after vomiting all those no-longer delicious pancakes across the floor. His mistress was the best cook in the world, and he couldn't wait for her to come back!

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