What We Become

Eerie moonlight cascaded across the dead city of Canterlot, revealing silhouettes amongst the fires far below the tower in which the unicorn stallion panted. The door was locked, thankfully, but the creatures he had found on his run up here resembled no ponies he knew. Shaking, he removed the package from his saddlebags and unwrapped it once more. In elegant flowing script he hadn't seen since those days, were the words "Ring me -Princess Celestia". So she ordered, so he did.

Grasping the bell in weak magic as exhaustion set in, he shook it. The first ding was almost silent, and the second in fact was, but on the third... Some sort of wave emanated from the bell. Unable to figure out what could possibly cause this, and unable to remain standing, he collapsed to the floor. The bell continued to ring as it dropped to the floor and bounced, though who or what could hear it was questionable.

The bell lay in dust as time began to pass and the stallion never woke. What the amount of time that passed was, that was completely unclear and unmeasurable. Every minute looked the same, every hour copied the minute, every day never changed. Stagnation and death blanketed the city of Canterlot, blood flowed through the streets, and an increasing pressure of desperation began to spread. As the stallion's body began to perish, the now rotting flesh bringing forth a stench that pushed that which stood out the door to attempt to break it's way in, the bell suddenly stopped ringing.

From a shimmering blue light in the ground rose a bipedal creature covered in oddly colored and styled clothes. They looked like nothing akin to those of the ponies who dwelled in the city. Dried blood coated a long dark and frayed cloak of some sort, and splashes of it adorned the dark clothing the creature wore. Affixed to it's waist seemed to be some sort of holster for the smaller object in it's left hand, while in it's right was a normal axe. Upon appearing, it looked around the room before noticing the bell on the ground.

It reached down and picked the bell up before attaching it to the same strap the holster was attached to. Upon noticing the rotting corpse of a horse it blinked, "The hells?" Moving over, it nudged the corpse over and found the now bloodied note beneath one of it's forelegs, where some of the coat was still visible. Under the light, it just looked like an unnaturally small horse to the creature. It picked up the note and stared at the words.

"A horse carrying a note?" it muttered again before shaking it's head, "Who am I kidding, I've already fought tentacle monsters, this is a walk in the pa-" it was stopped by a bird soaring into the room and pecking it's head. Attempting to swat it was unsuccessful, and finally the bird alighted upon the windowsill as the biped stared at it. "What's your problem?"

The bird was in fact, an owl, and looked remarkably intelligent. The sparkle in it's eyes hinted at that and a mischievous attitude. After a moment or two of a staring contest, it held out it's leg to reveal a key tied there. "Hoo! Hoo!" it called as the hunter frowned. "You want me, to take, the key?" The owl nodded in response and the hunter sighed. "Not the weirdest day by far, but still pretty weird."

With deft fingers, he quickly removed the string and took the key before slipping it into his pocket as the owl soared off into the sky. Easily, the hunter unlocked the door and left the dark and musky room before stepping into the hallway. There, stood two beasts with pale white bones jutting from their shoulders while raw and bright red flesh hung from their heads. Along their bodies were patches of pale white dirty fur next to cuts with yellow and green splotches which oozed dark, nearly black blood. At their rear and atop their heads were patches of stringy hair, and upon their legs were bent and broken pieces of armor. As he turned to fact them, the flesh hanging from their faces flipped to the sides to reveal jagged teeth and a large mouth.

The beasts screeched and lunged, only for the axe to slice cleanly through them as if they were made of butter. A sickening splash of blood sprayed the walls and the creatures dropped with a splatter and thump to ground, a pool of blood oozing from their bodies. The stench of metal filled the air and the hunter turned to look down the staircase, where a set of three of the creatures were descending.

Once again, with practiced ease, the creatures fell. This time, as they were cut apart, a maggot-like creature fell to the ground and screeched. As the bodies rolled down the stairs, leaving streaks of dark blood and a dark yellow substance upon the steps, a single larger creature dropped from the ceiling and charged. In the place of it's head was large bulbous mass, streaked with cuts oozing pus and fly like eyes. It's neck had exploded at the base and a flower like blossom of flesh surrounded the white mass that was now it's neck. Along it's sides were a similar feature to the other creatures, but added on were a set of almost invisible wings. Behind the bone appendages on it's shoulders were several more, each longer than the last, the final nearly double the first one's length.

The creature's cuts opened and an unearthly scream filled the air as it lunged, the axe embedding itself in the creature's side, only for the bone appendages to lash out. With quick hands, the hunter threw up his other weapon and a loud bang rang out as the creature's head exploded in a mass of white flesh and yellow liquid. A shower of pus and flesh rained down as the hunter yanked his axe from the monster's body.

Flicking his coat to get rid of some of the blood, he stared down the dark staircase. Despite the beams of moonlight that shone through the windows, the tower stairwell was a deep black and little was visible. The lights of the eyes of beasts shone back through the darkness, but just as easily there could be holes strewn throughout the area. The stone was cracked and crumbling in various places and what had once been wood was essentially sawdust. Pieces of glass were missing from the windows and shards were scattered across the floor. Whatever made the stairwell so dark was a mystery, as it seemed to stop shortly before the hunter's feet.

The tower itself was utterly silent as the hunter removed a lantern from the inner part of his coat and affixed it to his holster for the smaller weapon in his hand. The ominous darkness receded several steps, but remained thick beyond that. The musty scent of stale air and the stench of old blood permeated everything, the taste of the air as it entered the hunter's mouth was metallic and sharp. Whoever they were, the hunter seemed used to this atmosphere and proceeded with an experienced step. Parts of the stairs collapsed as he moved down, though never managing to catch him. In several places he was forced to slide along the wall.

The beasts skulked back from the dim light of the lantern, far more vibrant than the moonlight to which they had become so used to. Once close enough to the monstrosities, where they could not escape, the hunter pushed them through the holes in the stairwell with his axe, and slashed it cleaning through their heads, the fount of blood left behind trickling the steps and pouring through the holes in the floor, causing the stench of freshly split blood to join the staler scents of the air.

Along the stairwell, where the windows sat, the hunter could make out a broken story in the stained glass that remained in the windows. How long ago the story had taken place was a fact the hunter did not know, but, the story was far different from those he had had encountered in the past. It began at a castle, he assumed much like, if not this castle.

The story woven by these windows was strange, for it featured colorful horses. One of blue, one of white, and several others. The blue and white horses were considerably larger than the rest. The story began, it seemed, upon the tower of the castle where one could see far off into the horizon, the night sky visible and clear for as long as one wished to look. There upon the balcony sat the blue horse, an ornate symbol of the moon upon her flank. As she watched the moon set and the sunrise, her face distorted and changed. Whatever it had become was represented by naught by a hole in the window.

The sunlight peered down across the land, where smaller ponies played cheerfully in the sunlight. This repeated, the night was silent, the day was full of everything. Few creatures worked in the night as the blue horse did, and it seems she went mad watching this. She loved the night too much, the hunter thought, the night was for dreams and nightmares. The night had, where he had been, long since become the Hunt. The sight of the moon changed things, and it seemed here was no different.

The mare changed drastically, into a demon with a thirst for the daylight blood, and several windows were shattered beyond recognition after this. One of the last windows depicted a mare of brilliant white, which the hunter assumed was likely the sister of the other mare, imprisoning the now insane mare in the moon itself. Despite that, when the hunter looked out upon the night sky, there was no shadow of the mare upon it. "So, she escaped..." he muttered to himself.

The omnious light of the full moon shone down upon the hunter as he stared out into the silent night sky where far below the city blazed with fires and flickers of light moved from street to street far below. Throughout the city larger monster seemed to crawl as large shadows graced the buildings and gaping holes marred the roofs in a various scattering. The city, the hunter gathered, had been dead a very long time. As he turned and moved down the stairway, he saw dried blood and fresh blood meeting and mixing, a crisp crunch echoing from his feet as he walked upon the decayed flesh and bone of that which had come before him.

As he finally made it to the bottom of the tower and opened the wooden door with the owl's key, he was graced by the view of the ruined castle and large gaping holes in the walls. At the very center of what was now a large open space, though it likely hadn't been, sat a small lavender colored creature. Upon it's flank was a magenta marking, from what he could tell, and the utter silence carried it's frenzied and whispered words straight into his ears as he approached.

What had surely once been a lovely voice was now hoarse and wheezing, the giggles that came from it's deeply throat wet as some sort of liquid splattered upon the stone before it. "Oh the sun, the sun, my friends, the sun!" the creature laughed maniacally, "The sun will set us free! I just have to find it!" The creature suddenly froze and it's head twisted with the sickening sounds of bone snapping to face the hunter. As he stood there unmoving, the creature began to stand and crawl from it's spot. Two large wings several times the size of it's body and more bone than flesh dragged it forth. It's legs, though seemingly useless, wiggled around like snakes, and the creatures head lolled to each side. Whatever it had been, he thought as he watched it move and the various decrepit bloods and liquids rolled down it's already severely matted lavender fur, it sure as hell wasn't that anymore.

The hunter ignored the mystery of the beast's color and moved, shortly after it disappeared, to where it had been. In the place where it had sat, atop a small rock, sat an old and tattered notebook with yellow pages. On the first page, in elegant flowing script, it said;

Property Of: Twilight Sparkle

As the hunter stared at the page, a loud panting noise began to echo through the room and he felt droplets of liquid stream down his coat. When he turned around, the creature's head was stretched and bent at and unnatural angle right behind him and it let out the third most unearthly screech he had ever heard. Within moments, his axe was in his hand, ready for the fight.