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            Catbird Cataclysm: Equestria's End             
                       -by Skorpion-                       
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         Part One: The Annihilation of Cloudsdale          
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Part One: The Annihilation of Cloudsdale
Something smelled fishy in the gym, and not just in a metaphorical sense. Thunderlane's nose curled from the moment he stepped through the doors of the Cloudsdale Muscle Farm, his eyes growing watery from the intense stink. It smelled like old gym socks mixed with peanut butter protein powder farts, not an unusual smell for the gym, but amplified to a level that made the hairs on the back of his neck curl. Even more worryingly, the reception room was empty, with only a discarded cellphone and a knocked-over chair to indicate that someone was recently here. The place was usually crowded, the air ringing with a cacophony of clanking exercise machinery and grunting weightlifters; Now, the place was absolutely silent.
There were two doors, one to the locker rooms, and the other to the gym proper, the latter of which was hanging open just a crack. As he drew closer, a deep, baritone blast roared across the room, and a new wave of stench washed over the stallion, causing him to gag. As the staccato noise died down, a faint voice could be heard, so quiet that it was almost a whisper. He couldn't tell what was said, but the voice seemed desperate, pleading for their life. A moment later, a bout of harsh laughter echoed in the gym, and Thunderlane huddled behind the door, not daring to peek around the corner.
"Mercy?” The gravelly, vaguely-feminine voice snorted, “You're the dweeb who said I smell like a locker room. Well, guess what? Your corpse is gonna smell a lot worse!"
There was a sharp smack, followed by a cry and a thud as the first speaker fell to the floor. He recognized the voice - Gilda, the megabitch griffon who practically lived in the gym. Everypony hated her – She hogged the free weights, insulting anyone using the machines as being somehow beneath her. It was true that she smelled like a locker room, but that was on good days, when she actually bothered to shower. He wasn't sure she had a membership here. Hell, he didn't think she even had a job – On any given day, you'd find her sitting by the free weights, or doing squats and farting loudly on the apex of every crouch.
The gym staff wouldn't do anything about her. They wouldn't even go near her – When Gilda walked into the room, the personal trainers disappeared, as did anybody who had any sense. Sometimes, new members who didn't know about her would get in her way, and she'd stuff their faces in her pits until they went limp. Nobody could help, or do anything other than watch and wait till she was finished, then call an ambulance. Sometimes, they even survived the ordeal.
For these reasons and many more, Thunderlane was hesitant to open the door. He could hear the griffoness in there, and it sounded like she had a victim. But nopony else seemed to be around – They probably fled. Hopefully, they fled. He was just one stallion... But he was a Wonderbolts recruit, dammit! It was his job to help people! Thunderlane swallowed hard, trying to choke down his fear, but only managed to fill his throat with that impenetrable stank. The door swung open easily, and an oppressive heat washed over the stallion, matched by the powerful stench of an unwashed bodybuilder.
Gilda stood in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the limp bodies of the usual gymgoers. Eight feet tall and built like a locomotive, the griffoness stood with one huge foot planted atop the chest of a prone stallion, showing off her thick, muscle-girded legs. She was stark naked, leaving every inch of her furred body exposed. Her muscles were glazed with sweat, covering her head-sized biceps, her bulging shoulders and those cobra lats, slicking her fur down and outlining every little crack and cranny in her muscular physique.
Her cock stood mighty and erect, a full two feet of throbbing cat dick, matched by a pair of volleyball-sized nuts hanging low between her legs, where a normal female would have a vagina. Instead, all that lurked behind those orbs was a swampy taint, and beyond that, her ass. Squats were one of her favorite exercises, and it showed on her huge ass, the flesh as round as beachballs and just as tight. A dark stain surrounded the canyon of her crack, from which billowed clouds of noxious gas so thick that it was almost tangible, filling the air with an unholy miasma.
Her paw was the size of the stallion's entire torso, each head-sized toe tipped with a shining claw. That was the only shiny part – A couple of her toes had rings, but they were so tarnished from sweat and grime that they blended in with the stiff, bristly fur of her feet. Her claws were caked in the worst toejam Thunderlane had ever seen; It wasn't a dryish clump of dead skin and dirt, but a thick, viscous fluid oozing between her toes, leaving splotches of molasses-like ooze across the floor behind her.
There was a weight in her hand – Thunderlane hadn't noticed that even now, Gilda was still exercising, hefting a barbell with one hand even as she finished off the last of the gymgoers. He wasn't sure how much it weighed, but those looked like some of the biggest plates at the gym, and she was hefting it up and down with ease, her biceps barely flexing with each repetition. Every time the weight reached the apex, she shifted her weight forward, and the stallion beneath her grunted in pain.
It took a moment for Thunderlane to recognize the bruised and bloodied stallion as Soarin. The leading Wonderbolt was battered and broken, with one wing hanging at a sickeningly unnatural angle. Both of his eyes were swollen shut, and his nose seemed swollen too, both nostrils stretched big enough that he could've rolled marbles into the pegasus's lungs.
Laying on his stomach with both legs spread, a pool of cum and blood mingled around his backside. His asshole gaped wider than any he'd seen – Not that he'd seen many stallion's holes, but he was pretty sure they weren't supposed to be wide enough to shove a baseball bat through, or a dumbbell, for that matter – The blue foam tip of a dumbbell protruded from the stallion's hole, the numbers marking the weight obscured with a thick, off-white fluid that could only be semen.
He wasn't the only victim. There were more than a dozen of them, bodybuilders and new recruits, all laying atop one another in a heap of motionless flesh. Every one of them had a faintly greenish tint to their fur, as if they'd been bathing in some kind of toxic... Greenish-brown mist flowed from Gilda's ass as she let out a low, casual fart.
“W-what happened here, Gilda?”
“Fuck you,” The griffoness didn't bother answering his question, or even turning fully; Casting him no more than a sidelong glance, Gilda placed a hand on one of her cheeks, her fingers not even sinking into the rock-hard surface as she spread it, revealing her twitching, oily pucker. Before Thunderlane could react, a deep BRAAAAAFFFT resounded across the gym, and the pegasus staggered back as a cloud of brownish smog flooded over him. He tried to reach the door, but the force of the blast was enough to slam it shut, nearly bowling him over in the process and trapping him with the bitch.
Thunderlane clutched his head, blood streaming from his nostrils. The coppery smell almost overwhelmed the stench from Gilda's toxic gas, but not quite enough. He had to get out of here before... Before... It was impossible to think with that stench still swirling around in his head. His head ached, his brain pulsing with white hot agony, burning just behind his eyes. He could actually feel the neurons dying, cells burning out en masse as Gilda's fart hung around them. No amount of exhalation could save him, his insides were too thoroughly inundated with the filth for him to do anything but moan and plead in an increasingly raspy voice.
“N-no, no,” His words grew inarticulate as entire sections of his brain went dark, dissolving into foul, useless mush, “N-n-nurgh.”
The mush of his brain oozed from his nose and ears, while bloody tears slipped from his eyes. His jaw went slack, drool leaking out, while he weakly grappled to maintain some semblance of control over his body. It didn't take long before his hands fell limply at his sides, and as the last vestiges of intelligent thought faded away, his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. There was a low hiss as his bowels voided themselves into his gym shorts, and that was that.
Loomed over the braindead stallion's living corpse, Gilda chuckled and crouched down. Holding her cock in both hands, she pressed it against the bottoms of his feet, and with a wet slurping sound, the tip opened wide enough to admit one of the pegasus's tennis shoes. The moment her cum touched the rubber sole, black smoke began rising up, which Gilda banished with a raucous belch. Slowly but surely, her cock slurped up Thunderlane's body, bulging to a truly tremendous girth as his legs disappeared, his knees, his hips.
She groaned in pleasure as he slipped into her nuts, which stretched like a pair of overinflated yoga balls to accept their new meal. Digestion began almost immediately, as something akin to stomach acid began eating away at the stallion's flesh, warping and transforming his genetic structure into nothing more than rank futa griffoness cum.
Gilda trotted back over to Soarin', her balls swinging and quivering as Thunderlane's remains boiled away. The Wonderbolt, it seemed, had already died from blood loss or shock; A pity, since she was planning on filling him with another load as soon as Thunderlane's worthless soul turned into baby batter. Surveying the destruction of the gym, Gilda couldn't help but laugh – Some of them ran, but one or two of them actually tried to fight back, and they were the most fun. One of them even managed to hit her with a dumbbell – That would be the stallion slumped in the corner, his jaw missing and his stomach ripped open from the sheer amount of weight plates she'd stuffed down his throat.
Her hungry cock swallowed up Soarin's corpse, followed by the rest of the bodybuilders. She squirmed in pleasure as some of the larger ones stretched her urethra so tight that one could see every contour of their overy-muscled bodies, but none were nearly as big as the griffon bitch. It was a good start, but this was hardly a drop in the water. Her genocidal crusade began here; Equestria would burn, and ponykind would perish beneath her smegma-soaked paws.
Trotting out of the gym, Gilda gazed down across the streets of Cloudsdale, the fluffy white clouds reflecting the sunlight like spotlights along the sides of the towering buildings, all maintained in a classical pegasus style. It was a true triumph of architectural design, not to mention of pegasus work ethic, since the entire place had to be constantly maintained to keep the cloud buildings from drifting apart, sending the otherwise mundane objects to the ground a thousand feet below.
Ponies glided through the streets, carriages whizzing past; The gym was far enough away that nopony had heard or seen what was going on, and if she maintained a low profile, it would be hours before the massacre was discovered. She could make her escape, fly off into the mountains, and never be seen again... But that wasn't the plan. A cold grin spread across Gilda's face, and spreading her cheeks wide, her backside belched out a gale of gas.
The clouds on the building's facade turned a sickly shade of greenish-brown, then began to dissolve. Heads turned, drawn by the sudden noise, not to mention the noxious smell drifting through the streets, just in time to watch as the building collapsed, sending the equipment and bodies plummeting, leaving nothing but filthy, poisoned clouds in their wake.
A murmer spread through the sparse crowd; There were a good dozen or so ponies looking at her, and their horrified expressions filled Gilda's heart with rage. Flipping them off with one hand, she placed the at the base of her dick and spun it around, sending out a spiraling spray of precum. Ponies began backing away now, and one unlucky stallion got a full facial. Gilda's cum had the volume and consistency of wet cement, knocking him down and sticking to his face like glue. Writhing on the ground, he let out muffled screams, trying to wipe the mess off, but only getting his hooves stuck as he slowly suffocated.
Two ponies ran up to help him, a mare and a stallion, and both of them received shots from her incredibly potent seed. The blast hit the stallion in the leg, which buckled with a sharp snapping sound, and before he could limp away, he received another one to the windpipe, instantly crushing it and breaking his neck in the same second.
The mare suffered a similar fate a second later, her ribcage buckling beneath a rope of jizz with the force of a cannonball. Wherever her stray cum landed, a hole was punched through the cloud layer, giving the street the look of a hard-fought battlefield. Every step forward send the ponies a step back, and those who didn't found themselves rolling on the ground, trying to wipe the tarry fluid from their faces as their lungs started to burn.
“C'mon, little ponies!” Gilda taunted, flapping her albatross wings to blow the cumstink in their direction, “Come 'n get your filling!”
One mare actually managed to survive the initial blast, being lucky enough to only take a shot to the legs, breaking all four of them and immobilizing her. She had a unique opportunity to learn about the other effects of the griffoness's cum – That being, incredible acidity. It wasn't that her cum was acid, per se, but it was just so potent, so overwhelmingly, potently masculine, that cells buckled like wet tissue beneath its awesome power, bursting and warping the cells into a black, cancerous mass.
The mare was screaming hoarsely as her flesh boiled away, staining the cloudstreet red around her.
Those moans of pain were pretty sexy, but she knew what would be even better. Standing over her, she wrapped both hands around her ballsack, hefting it up - Then squatted over her, letting it loose. Her balls smashed into the mare's head with the force of a wrecking ball, her half-dissolved skull crunching loudly. Gilda smirked as she felt fragments of bone poking against her sack.
She didn't die, though; One half of her head was flat, but the other half pressed deep in the cloud, and enough of her brain was intact for her to let out a final, plaintive wail, before Gilda gave her another teabag, this time powerful enough to smash what remained of her brain into mush. With this sudden force, the weakened cloud layer gave way, sending her corpse all the way down to the ground.
Those few who were still unharmed turned and ran, and Gilda, in her infinite mercy, allowed them this brief moment of freedom. They wouldn't live much longer anyway, her next actions would make sure of it.
It was just a short walk to the center of the city, a vast plaza as wide as five city blocks. Along the way, Gilda made a point to demolish as much as possible, exterminating anypony who wasn't fast enough to run from her sniper-accurate cumshots, or was foolish enough to inhale after the griffoness let out one of her deadly belches. Chaos was already beginning to spread throughout the city as panicking pegasi flew this way and that, carriages zipping through the sky. Nopony knew what was going on – For all they knew, it could be a changeling raid, or some kind of new threat from Discord or Tirek. Gilda couldn't help but snort as a group of pegasus guards flew past, so focused on reaching their objective that they didn't even notice the ten foot tall griffoness.
When she reached the plaza, it was another story. The place was packed full, even moreso than usual; The city's police and guard units had set up some kind of strongpoint here, with heavy-duty barricades to protect on the ground, and a dome-shaped magical shield guarding against aerial attacks. The stallions behind the walls were hardened troops, but they were confused; All they knew was to protect the citizens of Cloudsdale from whatever new horror stalked the streets. Some of them wielded automatic crossbows, others, only spears. There were one or two ballistas, those massive crossbows capable of taking down a fully-armored minotaur berserker. Gilda couldn't help but snort; Did they honestly think those could stop her?
As she approached the barricade, one guard turned to her, a look of mixed confusion and disgust on his face. She was quite a sight, with a body as wide as a truck, girded in muscles bigger than any equine weightlifter, and a cock big enough to put dragons to shame. If only the wind would change and blow her intoxicatingly horrific stench over them... But alas, she'd have to deal with this the old fashioned way.
“Halt!” The guard shouted, cocking his crossbow and drawing the attention of other nearby guards. Before she'd taken another step forward, there were three of them standing before her, staring down the sights of their black polymer weapons. When her greasy footpaw hit the ground, one of the guards, no doubt confused and high-strung from the stress of the situation, loosed his bolt. Gilda grunted as it struck her bicep, and with a timely flex of her massive muscle, the bolt turned around and flew back to the one who shot it. Her aim was better than his, hitting him square in the groin. He collapsed to the ground, letting out an agonized, and slightly feminine, shriek, alerting the entire encampment of her arrival.
The other guards fired, but Gilda was through playing games. Wrapping both hands around the base of her cock, she gave it a firm stroke, almost like cocking a gun, and as a cruel grin spread across her face, she fired two wads, each one striking the two remaining stallions. One fell down, knocked unconscious from the force of the blast, while the other... His body seemed to waver, then crumple like wet cardboard where her heavy blast hit him, blowing a hole so deep into his chest that she could see his organs as they slowly dissolved in the acrid spray.
Gilda bolted straight into the center of the encampment, flapping her wings to propel herself at such a speed that nearby ponies were knocked down. Before any of them could get up, the griffoness's unwashed stench caught up with them, and those who were rising to their hooves collapsed once more, gagging and wheezing at the smell of a creature that hadn't known the touch of soap since her days at the Junior Speedsters Academy.
There was a crack as the ballista loosed a shot, but Gilda ducked the slow-moving projectile, and it slammed into the mass of ponies with a meaty thwack. The griffoness let out a callous snort as blood and severed limbs flew through the air, then turned toward the ballista, whose crew paused in their reloading as the beastly griffoness glared down at them.
“H-halt!” Cried a shaky voice, and out of the mass of terrified guards, a single stallion stepped forward.
Gilda had to hand it to him, he had balls, even if they were currently doing their best at retreating into his body. The stallion was holding a teargas grenade, his finger hooked in the pin. His jaw trembled as he beheld the beefy behemoth, and the cruel smile which spread across her face as she glared down at him. He didn't have time to move as she bit through his wrist, her beak cutting through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter.
The grenade detonated the moment it hit her stomach, causing the griffon to belch up a little cloud of blueish gas. The stallion, meanwhile, screamed as he stared down at the stump of his hand, blood spurting out in arcs as he flailed around. His comrades didn't take a step forward to help him, all keeping their distance from the deadly griffoness. It was almost too perfect.
The stallion's cry was cut off as Gilda kicked him over, her grime-coated footpaw leaving a sizeable dent in his armor, and before he could rise, she slammed her meaty ass down upon his head with a tremendous crash. There was a sickening crack, and for a moment, Gilda thought she'd broken his neck, but his flailing arms said otherwise. She probably only fractured his skull, or broke his jaw – Yes, that was definitely it, she could feel the broken bones and warm blood as she pressed her bloated anus against his mouth.
Her big, sweaty cheeks formed a complete seal around the stallion's head. It was clear that he could no longer breathe, as the palpitations of his chest grew faster and shorter. With a grunt, Gilda unleashed flatulent hell upon the poor stallion. All the toxic contents of the gas grenade now flowed directly onto his face and down his throat.
His hands rose up instantly, clawing at the griffoness's ass as if he honestly thought he could push her off. There was a low hiss as gallons of tear gas flowed from her donut pucker, and with nowhere else to go, pumped into the guard's lungs and stomach. His midsection swelled visibly under his armor, straining the steel plates, while a faint hiss rose from his backside as the toxic chemical forced its way out through the only route available. Tears of absolute agony leaked from his eyes, his hands wrapped around his belly, as if he could somehow halt the swelling.
It was futile, his fate was sealed. The stallion didn't just rupture – He exploded. One second, he was intact, his hands scrabbling to hold a nearly pregnant-looking stomach in, and then, those same hands were flying through the air, along with chunks of gore and twisted armor, propelled by the toxic gas. Some of the nearby guards went flying, knocked unconscious by the blast, while others, frozen in shock at the fate of their comrade, fell victim to the tear gas. Not one of them managed to pull out his gas mask before the gas reached them, burning their eyes, turning their mouths and throats red and raw as they gasped for air.
Gilda's nostrils flared as she sucked down the metallic stench, her cock throbbing in delight. The tip stretching open as it slurped up some of the teargas-tainted remains of that poor stallion.
Grabbing a nearby case of grenades, Gilda didn't waste time popping pins, simply biting the tops off and chugging the aerosolized contents like a fratcolt shotgunning beers. Her stomach groaned loudly as the toxic fumes filled it to the brim. Her gas was already deadly, but this was the equivalent of throwing gasoline on a fire. She could feel the pressure building up in her bowels, her guts distending as they churned out more liquid death.
The pressure grew with every passing moment, and pretty soon, her stomach began to bloat from the sheer amount of gas, her skin creaking as it swelled like a balloon. The griffoness looked almost pregnant, with the rounded dome of her stomach pressing out beneath her beachball breasts. Her fur thinned as the flesh stretched out, exposing deep red stretchmarks arcing across the surface.
Gilda grunted as her belly button popped into an outie, and then her stomach lurched forward, sending ripples across the surface. The gurgling sound was louder now, echoing across the plaza. Sher could feel the gas within her, the bubbles pressing against both ends, just begging to escape and pollute the nearby area, but Gilda refused to let them out. Pain rose up from her asshole as a massive fart threatened to force its way out, but she clenched her hole tighter to keep it in.
Running her claws over her drum-tight belly, she could feel the countless gallons of liquid death gurgling around in there, begging, pleading to escape. Her body was like a chemical weapons factory, filled up with enough toxic fumes to destroy an army, and she, Gilda Griffon, was a living bomb. At last, as her belly reached the size of a medicine ball, the pressure grew too much, and opening both mouth and anus, she let loose.
It started as a faint rumble, the sound of a distant engine rumbling through the city. Nopony noticed at first, those ponies hiding in their homes or at the various safepoints set up by the military.
The wave of gas blasted across the city like the shockwave of a nuclear bomb, reducing nearby buildings and ponies to dust – The crowd of panicking ponies and guards simply vanished, wiped away as if by a giant eraser, leaving no trace of their existence. The street they were running down likewise seemed to buckle, the pure white cloud turning green before dissipating, leaving behind nothing but a few puffs of poisoned cloudstuff.
More distant buildings buckled, the outer layer of cloud peeling off like an eggshell, exposing the interiors to the most toxic stench ever known to Equestria. Ponies choked and died, their lungs melting on contact with the stuff, their flesh turning green even as it melted, dripping from their bones in long, gooey strands.
Inside her office at the Wonderbolts Academy, Spitfire heard the noise, catching a faint whiff of the horrific stench. It smelled like somepony had taken a dump on a pile of rotten fish, then left it beneath a radiator for about a decade – In other words, a completely normal smell at a military facility. She was just about to return to her paperwork when something flew past her window, and she looked outside to watch Soarin' as he crashed into the runway. His entire body was engulfed in green flame, from his mane to his tail, and as the flames licked up from the crater, she could see that he was still alive. She didn't know what was going on – How could she?
Leaping from her seat, she threw the emergency alarm switch, sending the base into high alert... Just in time for the toxic cloud to wash over the place. It was almost instantaneous, one second, the sky was clear and sunny, the next, the air became thick and foggy, filled with dense fog the color and consistency of pea soup, blotting out the sun – Even blotting out the burning form of Soarin', who, despite the flames eating away at his flesh, had managed to crawl out of the crater left by his impact.
She didn't know what was going on, but even as her heart pounded in her chest, horrified at the fate of her friend and comrade, she didn't give in to panic. Instead, as the foul odor of Gilda's cataclysmic cloud leaked under the door, she made her way to the emergency supply cabinet in the corner of the room, grabbing a gas mask and spare filters. She put it on just in time, and for a moment, she breathed easily, smelling nothing but rubber and the faintest whiff of oxidation from the mask's charcoal filter.
Then, the filter cracked – Audibly, she could hear the sound of the little disk of compressed charcoal snapping apart, then crumbling to dust, giving the pegasus a lungful of the putrescent odor before she could stop herself. She tried to hold her breath, but it was too late. Her lungs erupted with a burning sensation as the poison took hold. Spitfire wheezed, involuntarily taking another breath of the toxic air, and doubled over, clutching at her throat.
Pain shot through her chest as the fabric of her lungs disintegrated, blood leaking from her mouth, then gushing, filling the gas mask and leaking out through the end of the broken filter. The pegasus took another breath, or tried to, at least, but by now, her lungs were nothing more than a few scraps of charred flesh within a torso that was swiftly burning away from the inside. Her eyes burst like ripe cherries, and everything went red, not black, for the dying mare, as her optic nerves sizzled in the putrid mix of blood and gas.
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Gilda flapped her massive wings, hovering amid the broken remains of the city. The entire place was filled with a greenish haze that was slowly dissipating, carried away by the wind, giving her a good view of the ruined city. The immediate area was nothing but a gigantic hole, like the eye of a storm, and she could look down to see the ground a thousand feet below. It used to be green, but now it was red with blood, dotted with the corpses of hundreds if not thousands of dead pegasi. There were even a few cloud structures whose levitating magic died with the inhabitants, sending them crashing down to the ground.
There were more buildings still floated, many of them, perhaps as much as half the city remained floating, but they were as ruined as those ones spread out across the ground below. Most of them leaned crazily, their cloudstuff colored a putrid greenish-brown, with many of the more detailed features burned away. The Cloudsdale Colosseum, that famous landmark of the city, was only half there, with the other half seemingly blown away by the sheer force of the griffoness's wind. All that remained of the once-proud edifice was a shapeless, leaning mass of cloud, only recognizable by its size as the largest still-standing structure in the city.
These poisoned clouds would dissipate over time, bringing shadows of death across Equestria, but the ruins of Cloudsdale would never fully disappear. This spot would remain in the sky, anchored by the same magic that once kept the city from blowing apart in the wind. No birds would fly here; Even as the air began to clear, the place would remain deadly for centuries to come. Even as she stood there, Gilda watched as a flock of geese flew overhead, only to break their strict V formation and crash to the ground as soon as they came into contact with the accursed place.
Gilda gazed out across the landscape, her heart swelling at the sight of Equestria's heartland laid out before her. Here was the vast expanse of the Everfree Forest, with the broken spire of the Castle of the Pony Sisters jutted up near the center, and over there, the Horseshoe Mountains. Canterlot stood in the distance, the immense white towers of Equestria's capital city standing like a thousand golden-tipped spears, glimmering in the sun even at this distance. She couldn't wait to watch the place burn to the ground.
Before that, however, she had some unfinished business. Nestled between the dense thicket of the Everfree and the loose scattering of trees that ponies called Whitetail Wood, was the small town of Ponyville, with that fucking crystal eyesore jutting up in the center of town. Gilda smirked, cracking her knuckles. The fun wasn't over yet.

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             Part Two: Despumatio Ex Equestria             
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Part Two: Despumatio Ex Equestria
It was a wonderful day in Ponyville. The sun was out, the birds were singing, and the only clouds in the sky were the white, fluffy cumulus clouds created by the local weather team. The Central Weather Control Council in Cloudsdale had forecast a few days of clear skies in Ponyville to make up for a recent rainstorm, and the citizens were out to enjoy this brief respite.
That's where they were, outside in their teeming hundreds, to watch the destruction of Cloudsdale. One moment, the city was there, and the next, an explosion ripped through the air, knocking ponies off their hooves all across town. By the time they looked back up, all that remained of the ancient capital of the pegasi was a vast green cloud, almost a crater in the sky. It was visible from Canterlot to Manehattan, and the smell was detected, however faintly, as far away as the Crystal Empire, where Shining Armor just groaned and wondered what jackass forgot to flush.
In Ponyville, however, the panic began. Ponies rushed home or to the Friendship Castle, banging on the door to be let in, for their local princess to save them as she had a thousand times in the past – Never realizing that Twilight Sparkle had reserved the whole day for some remedial studying on the history of picture frame design.
Sitting in her study, Twilight leaned over her desk, studying a half-burned scrap of paper which had so rudely interrupted her reading. Just another distraction in a day of distractions – Six hours of reading, and she'd barely made it two hundred pages into her eight hundred page book. First there was that weird booming sound earlier, then all that noise outside, and now this piece of paper...
“Send help...” She muttered under her breath, reading the chickenscratch writing, “Contact Celestia...”
It just showed up all of a sudden, appearing in a burst of green flame and scattering ashes all over the open pages of her book. Sighing, she swept them off, then held the book up and hit it against the table a couple of times to get the little bits out. Clearly, whoever sent this message was unused to communicating via dragonfire. This mode of communication required very careful calibrations of temperature and magical energy, and screwups like this weren't uncommon. At least Spike was an expert, having been taught by Celestia herself. He'd never make such a stupid mista-
A thud shook the room, rattling the crystal windows. It sounded almost like a bird had slammed into one – No, it'd take a pegasus to make a noise like that, capable of rattling the books on the shelves lining the room. Twilight looked around, feeling a growing sense of dread as she glanced back down at the paper. The words were hastily scratched, but if she squinted and tilted her head, they almost looked like Spike's handwriting.
There was a strange noise in the hallway, a kind of half-wheezing, half-sobbing, undercut by a loud gurgling noise. Something was out there, something heavy – Each footfall thudded against the floor, accompanied by sloshing as if someone were carelessly carrying a bucket of water. Twilight got to her hooves, steeling herself for just about anything.
Twilight's assistant was nearly spherical, more like a giant beachball than a dragon. His flesh was so overstretched that his scales spread apart, exposing the pale blue flesh beneath. Veins and stretchmarks throbbed across the surface with every beat of his overtaxed heart. His eyes were red and brimming with thick, white tears, which left streaks across his bloated cheeks. His spindly limbs stuck out like needles in a pincushion, his little legs barely able to support the immense weight of his body.
The dragon's backside... Twilight's eyes went wide with horror at the sight of Spike's prolapsed cloaca. The hole looked more like a pipe, five inches long and wide enough for Twilight's hoof to slide in comfortably... Not that she would try. He let out a fart, and white diarrhea flowed from his backside, mixed with just a hint of silvery dragonblood.
“Twilight,” Spike gargled, “Halb mrh...”
Twilight could feel the bile rising in her throat as horror and disgust took hold at the sight of her assistant's impossibly distended body. Her nose wrinkled as his backside belched forth another flood of cum, filling the air with an aura of masculine musk. The dragonling smelled like a locker room after an orgy – Not that she knew what that would smell like, of course, she was only guessing. Cum and sweat mingled on the dragonling's breath, grimy sweat oozing down his drum-tight body. His stomach gurgled and creaked, threatening to split open with every tiny movement.
“Wh-” She choked, her mouth suddenly feeling dry, “What happened?
Twilight took a step forward, reaching out to place a comforting hoof on her assistant's shoulder, but he pushed it away, groaning as the motion caused his overstretched flesh to creak ominously.
“N-no, d-don't touch-” He gurgled, cum flowing out with every labored breath, “G-gonna blow... Hurts... She's - She's coming.”
“Run.”
That was the dragon's last word before his eyes went wide, and his hands dropped to his belly. Twilight backed away, nearly paralyzed with horror as her assistant's belly throbbed, the blue flesh taking on a reddish hue. Spike's belly button twitched, then popped like the drain in a sink, sending out a spray of cum. Twilight scrambled back as cum flooded across the floor, a scream rising up in her throat. For his part, Spike didn't scream or cry as his body ruptured. The dragonling simply stared down as the hole in his belly widened, then split down the middle. A sigh escaped his lips, his face seeming to relax from the horror and pain that had twisted it, sinking into a placid expression. The relief on his face was palpable as the pressure and pain finally disappeared. He looked up at Twilight, and there was a light in his eyes, a glistening of tears – But they weren't tears, just stray drops of cum, and as his lifeless body dropped to the floor, so too did Twilight as grief overcame the alicorn.
“Suh-suh-Spike!” She stammered, hugging the dragon's head in her hooves, “W-what happened to you?!”
“Well, he didn't last long,” Gilda turned the corner, chuckling as she kicked away one of the dragon's broken femurs, “Too bad, too. He was an excellent cumdumpster.”
“Y-y-you did this!” Twilight's cry was more of a statement than an accusation. The alicorn stared up at the monster who had murdered her assistant. In that instant, all sadness was pushed aside, and rage flooded the alicorn's body, flowing from her horn to the tips of her quivering hooves. She felt cold, as if she'd suddenly stepped from her well-heated castle into an icebox, and all of that cold fury was directed at the beast before her. That it was unholy, she recognized instantly and impassively. No beast could attain such a powerful body without calling upon dark powers, not to mention that cock – She couldn't remember if Gilda had had one the first time they met, but she had one now, and Twilight intended to rip it off and bludgeon the murderous beast to death with it. Gilda's face remained smug even as Twilight's eyes began to glow, and an aura of purple magic flowed around her horn.
“I hope you're ready for what comes next.”
“Same,” Gilda shrugged, then reached out almost casually, and pinched the tip of Twilight's horn between her thumb and forefinger. A bolt of pain arced down into Twilight's brain, and the alicorn's spell broke off as she doubled over, screaming.
“W-what did you do?”
“You unicorns are all the same. Real flashy, but too damn easy to break.”
“I'm an alico-” Twilight's words were cut off as Gilda once again pinched her horn.
“You're a bitch,” The griffoness smirked, “And you're gonna die like one.”
While Twilight was temporarily incapacitated, Gilda moved swiftly and decisively, wrapping her hands around the base of the alicorn's wings and twisting sharply. There was a sickening crunch as her bones broke, and Twilight let out a jagged scream. Her horn started to ignite again, whether to defend herself or cast a healing spell, it was impossible to say, since another twist of her bones caused her to double over and puke all over Gilda's feet. There wasn't much difference in them, really, she just wiggled her toes, enjoying the creamy feeling between them.
Another crunch, and her wings came right off, sending out spurts of hot red blood across the crystal walls. Gilda looked at them before her and snorted; The two combined weren't as big as one of hers. With a sense of disgust, she tossed them away, then looked down at the agonized alicorn, whose stomach had once again voided from the overwhelming agony.
Before Twilight could compose herself, Gilda's claw wrapped around her horn and squeezed it hard. Twilight grunted, then a faint cracking noise rang out, which was quickly drowned out by the alicorn's screams. Pain blasted through her skull as the griffoness crushed her horn, her grip growing tighter by the minute. Cracks ran through the keratin as the microscopic crystalline structure shattered into fragments, forever damaging her ability to cast magic. The horn is a unicorn's conduit to access their mana, and without those millions of tiny runes etched into the very fabric of her DNA, a horn was nothing more than a pointy stick to hang your hat on.
That's what Twilight's was now, nothing more than dead matter. Sparks of errant magic flew out through the spiderweb of cracks, landing across the floor and burning tiny holes into the crystal. The same effect happened as the landed on Twilight, pitting her flesh with black, steaming holes and only adding to the utter agony the unicorn was going through. Gilda didn't notice the sparks splashing across her skin; Even this incredible power left no mark on her impenetrable flesh, not even singing her sweaty fur.
Finally, with a sickeningly meaty rending noise, Twilight's horn came off. Strands of bloody sinew snapped as Gilda ripped it free, leaving behind nothing but a jagged stump of keratin and throbbing, bleeding flesh. Twilight's scream grew louder and louder, reaching to a crescendo as her hooves slammed against the floor, so hard that the crystal cracked beneath the blow. Her eyes rolled up in her head, her pupils alternating between bright purple and blood red, and then, suddenly – The scream stopped, and the mutilated alicorn fell to the floor.
“N-nnno,” Twilight muttered, her voice dull and inarticulate as drool and blood mingled around her. She could barely think through the pain, and the words might've been mistaken for a random syllable uttered from a ruined brain, which hers surely was. The horror and grief of Spike's death, the sudden loss of her horn, that most sacred part of her from long before she was an alicorn – She could live without her wings, they were a convenience at most, and a hindrance when it came to fitting through small doors, but to live without her horn meant relearning how to walk, how to pick things up, how to interact with the world around her – Assuming she survived the ongoing shock, which not many unicorns did. She'd heard of them, but they were mostly idiots drooling away into cushions at mental institutions, practically mindless husks of their former selves. Some theorists supposed that a unicorn's soul was contained in their horn, and that breaking it caused part of their soul to dissipate into the ether, leaving behind only a semi-sentient husk. If Twilight were capable of conscious thought at this point, she would've taken first-hand notes to add to this body of research. As it was, she'd have to serve as a case study for the effects of such trauma on an alicorn.
Her bowels and bladder loosed their contents at the same time, but it didn't make much difference in the growing stench of the room. Sweat oozed in sickly streams down Gilda's body, while a constant stream of greasy yellow pre leaked from her cock. Twilight's agonized moans were like music to her ears, causing her erection to throb and belch up yet more of her noxious baby batter.
With a grunt, Gilda's fist crushed the alicorn's horn, grinding the chunks to dust between her fingers, and smeared the remaining blood across her tits, moaning to herself as the blood soaked into her fur.
Gilda grunted as a feeling like an electric shock ran up her arm, as Twilight's entire pool of magical energy flooded into her body. It wasn't unpleasant at all, more like the feeling after a long workout, a kind of warm tightness flowing through her muscles. The griffoness grit her teeth, feeling like she'd just stuck a fork in a toaster as every muscle in her body convulsed, involuntarily flexing to their maximum extent – Then growing further, expanding with every beat of her heart to new and unheard-of sizes.
“C-Celestia,” The griffoness uttered, speaking the name without the usual dripping malice, “I'm a Goddess!”
That's exactly what Twilight was afraid of. Even now, in her severely reduced state, she could just about comprehend what was going on. The thought of Gilda as a goddess, an actual, living being of immense power... It terrified her. Even now, nothing could stand in the griffoness's way – What could she do with Twilight's power? The alicorn had been capable of taking on monsters like Tirek, who was easily more powerful than the other three alicorns combined. By Celestia's mane, Equestria was doomed!
Bigger and bigger, tighter and fuller, her biceps swelled up larger than her head, her chest cracking and widening to hold a pair of exponentially larger pecs. Her chest no longer had real breasts, just little flaps of wobbling flesh hanging from rock-hard mounds of muscle, and her powerful body creaked and groaned with every new inch of flesh that piled onto her. Her cock throbbed, growing longer and thicker, her balls swelling to the size of beachballs, while her hips widened, allowing her to adopt a wide, masculine stance, with her package hanging down like a pendulum between her tree trunk thighs.
“I'm gonna destroy you,” She growled down at the ruined mare.
Lust flooded her brain, overwhelming her other senses, not that they wouldn't have led her to the same conclusion. Gripping Twilight's head in her claws, she slammed her cock through the alicorn's eye, listening to the bone crunch as her eye socket shattered. Even through the haze of agony, Twilight realized what was happening. She'd always wanted her final thoughts to be of Princess Celestia, the beautiful kindhearted goddess who had practically raised her from childhood – But the memory was gone, as Gilda's cock plowed through the part of her brain that managed such things. The only thing on her mind as she died was the griffon's massive, throbbing meatpole.
Her brain was still warm and pulsing slightly, even though the alicorn was for all intents and purposes braindead, and a moment later, the back of her skull exploded outwards, as a snake as long and terrible as Orm broke through, sending a shower of blood and gore across the crystalline floor.
Gilda huffed, then started working the dead alicorn's skull back and forth on her cock, her nuts churning, urethra bulging, until finally, the skull crumbled around her cock, worn away by her powerful grip on the thing. Disappointing – Pain shot through Gilda's nuts as they were left unfulfilled. A long time ago, she might've just jacked off to relieve the pressure, but she was far beyond such petty things. She was a fuckbeast, and she was on the prowl for some meat. Looking out the window of Twilight's study, she ripped a fart powerful enough to incinerate every last book in the room.
The castle library, several floors below, was mostly populated by common works of science and philosophy, fiction and literature such as one would see in any public library. Indeed, with the destruction of the town's library several years ago, Twilight had opened her own library to the purpose of feeding the town's literary hunger. In this study, however, Twilight kept her rarest and most valuable works, treatises on philosophy and magic by such luminaries as Starswirl the Bearded and Clover the Clever, unique, handwritten manuscripts detailing the intricacies of nearly-forgotten schools of magic, books of such unimaginable value that just acknowledging their existence would bring a swarm of thieves and prospective buyers clamoring at the gates of the castle. And, in one instant, every book in the room seemed to sag on their shelves, the covers rotting, the pages growing brittle as with incredible age, and one by one, these books which had weathered the ages now crumbled into dust in the wake of Gilda's toxin-riddled gas.
In the same moment, the corpses of Twilight and Spike were cremated, the bloodstains boiling, their bones turning to grayish-brown mulch, leaving behind so little that one might've wondered if they had ever really existed at all. Outside, just a few hundred yards away, she could see a carousal-shaped building, with a white unicorn standing by the entrance. The non-bestial part of her brain recognized this mare, and the bestial part suggested fucking her to death while her little sister watched.
The non-bestial part had a better idea. It was more fun, anyway, and that's what really mattered.
Rarity didn't know what hit her; One second, she was standing there, staring at the ruins of Cloudsdale along with the rest of the town, the next, she was on her back on the ground, with something incredibly heavy pressing down on her face. The force of the blow knocked the air out of her lungs, and she inhaled just in time to vomit in her mouth – Whatever was atop her, pressing her into the dirt, it stank to high heaven!
Gilda just laughed, grinding her filthy footpaw into Rarity's face. She never bathed them, and always made a point to walk through whatever disgusting filth happened to be before her, but mostly, the stench was just the natural result of her own dirty ways. So much sweat and toejam had built up between her digits that it left dark streaks in Rarity's fur, and the stench of rotting cheese filled the mare's lungs. Her scrawny unicorn muscles were nothing compared to the power of Gilda's tree-like thighs, and when she tried to scream, all she got was a mouthful of rank, acidic slime. Rarity couldn't stop herself from vomiting, sending chunks of half-digested alfalfa oozing between the griffoness's toes.
As the puke rolled back down her throat, Rarity tried to breathe in again, and only brought in another wave of toxic filth. Her mouth and burned like she'd just chugged a bottle of hot sauce, the filth soaking into every little pore, into her gums and cheeks and tongue. Her teeth, polished to a gleaming white through years of careful cleansing, turned yellow and cracked apart, as if she'd never touched a toothbrush in her life. Her gums became swollen and black, pus oozing through cracks in the skin and only adding to the sheer putrescence in her mouth. When she swallowed, trying to clear her mouth of the flood of filth, her vocal cords sizzled beneath the onslaught. As Gilda lifted her enormous paw from the mare's face, Rarity screamed, but the sound that came out was more like an elderly mare's moaning.
“Wh-wha dig gyu go?” Rarity moaned, her rotting tongue struggling to form words, even as her lips blackened and curled away from her ruined mouth, “G-Gilga-”
Before the unicorn could finish her sentence, Gilda grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and stuffed her face into one of the griffoness's armpits. To call it a rainforest would be understating the sheer wetness of that hairy canyon. A waterfall of sweat poured down, bringing with it the stench built up over years without bathing. Rarity's nose, so used to the scents of Prench perfume, simply couldn't handle it – The mare's eyes filled with tears as the stench hit her nose, pain blossoming in the space between her eyes. Her sinuses died like the rest, crackling as if burned by fire, while the soft flesh of her nose wrinkled in the wet pit.
The oppressive heat and dampness of Gilda's pit was enough to soften up the meat, allowing her acidic sweat to pour in. Rarity wasn't beyond fighting, but her flailing did nothing to halt the slow dissolving of her nose until nothing was left but a little hook of bone. The feeling of this rubbing against her flesh made Gilda let go, and mare fell to her knees, moaning from the pain which still flared across her ruined face.
Gilda's cock was still as hard as ever, covered in blood and brains from Twilight's ruined skull. Wrapping her hands around the base, the griffoness turned, then slammed her cock against Rarity's head like a baseball bat, sending her to the ground. There was a crack as her jaw broke, hanging loosely from one hinge, but the unicorn didn't just lay there and die – She was an element of harmony, and she couldn't be killed by regular torture. Even as Gilda jacked her cock, hosing the mare down in so much acidic jizz that her skin began smoking, the flesh peeling from her bones, her agonized howls never diminished, she never gave up the will to live.
She needed something advanced. While the unicorn struggled to crawl away, Gilda entered the boutique and came out with a little handheld mirror. Rarity rose shakily to her feet, and Gilda, ever the helpful friend, held the mirror out for the unicorn to see her face.
Her broken jaw hung open, revealing black gums and a tongue that was little more than a twitching nub. Here and there, blood oozed from holes that once held teeth, which were now nothing more than powder. Her nose was a great gaping hole, with nothing but bone and blood to show where flesh had once been. Her fur – in those places where it hadn't fallen out – was stained a putrid shade of brown. She looked like a corpse that'd been sitting in a swamp for weeks, and felt like it, too.
“What do you think, Rarity? Do you like your new makeover?”
The unicorn didn't respond. She seemed to shudder, then wavered in place for a moment and collapsed, blood streaming from the hole where her nostrils once sat. She couldn't stand it – The shock and horror at the loss of her beautiful face was enough to do what all of Gilda's attacks couldn't, and with the sudden stopping of her heart, Rarity's torment ended. Gilda looked down at the dead mare and snorted; Then, with an air of boredom, she stomped the dead mare's body into paste and slurped it up with her cock, grunting as chunks of bone and gore hooked themselves within her urethra, only to flow down with the rest into her constantly-churning nuts.
In Sugarcube Corner, Tootsie Frootsie's cute-ceañera was in full swing when death broke down the door. Ponies pranced across the floor, singing, dancing, playing games; Cranky Doodle was sitting in the corner, his backside sore after a particularly rambunctious filly decided to try playing pin the tail on the donkey. The hired band blasted their trumpets, almost drowning out the weird noises being heard outside. They didn't know what was going on, nor did they particularly care; For the partygoers, the whole world could wait.
Tootsie Frootsie, the filly of the hour, was walking around and showing off her brand-new cutie mark to everypony willing to look. It was a little wrapped-up bonbon, representing her skill at creating candies, as she discovered one day while helping Pinkie Pie with her baking. The pink mare following right behind her, a smile on her face as she rambled about the little filly's magnificent future in the world of candymaking.
It was a glorious future that would never come to pass. The partygoers paid no attention to the chaos outside; If they had, perhaps they would've been able to run. It wouldn't have saved them, but it would've prolonged their lives. As it was, unbeknownst to them, their time was already running out, as the bestial griffoness drew closer and closer to the front door. She didn't knock – A creature like her didn't need to worry about such things as politeness. Instead, she simply reared back a foot and kicked it down, knocking several ponies over with the splintered chunks of wood.
“Alright, where's the pink one?” A deep voice boomed across the small room, so loud that everypony's eardrums vibrated in their heads. The smell of cake and sweets was instantly drowned out, replaced by a stench almost too foul for words, like a mixture of rotting eggs and garbage, mixed with the odor of a decaying corpse at the height of summer. Globs of some foul yellow substance sprayed across the floor from a vast brown pipe, and that pipe was connected to a very large, very angry griffoness. A dozen ponies instantly stopped and stared, the joy of the party disappearing and being replaced by confusion, then horror as the true scope of the beast before them was realized.
Gilda was somehow even filthier than before, her footpaws caked in dirt, blood, and chunks of viscera. The first three feet of her six foot monster cock were stained with blood, and from the tip oozed a constant stream of viscous gel that could only generally be described as cum – It was more like an acidic goo, splattering across the floor and eating holes in the polished hardwood. Nopony dared utter a sound in her presence, much less move, even as she took a step forward, causing the entire room to shake. The cake – Or rather, one of the giant pink-frosted cakes that Pinkie and Tootsie had baked together, collapsed, sagging upon its foundations and turning into a rounded hill of moist mush.
“I-I'm pink,” Tootsie Frootsie stepped forward, nervously waving a hoof at the giant beast, “My name is-”
The little filly's innocent eyes were a stark contrast to the predatory yellow spheres burning within Gilda's head. The little pink filly, with her pigtails and her brand new cutie mark, represented everything the griffoness hated about Equestria. Taking a step forward, she placed a claw atop her cock and nudged it down, until the tip stood less than a foot away from the frightened filly's face.
“Give it a kiss,” The griffoness sneered, and the little filly raised a hoof, glancing nervously over toward the crowd, none of whom so much as moved a muscle to help her.
“Wait, don't!” Tootsie's mother charged forward, her plump frame jiggling violently as she rushed to save her child from a terrible fate. This display of parental affection had little effect on Gilda, who had grown up without parents upon the pitiless streets of Griffonstone, and turning, she just kicked at her, not harshly, almost a nudge – And the second her rancid paw came into contact with flesh, the mare's body just seemed to crumble, as if she'd been bucked in the chest by a dragon. Her chest buckled inward, bones snapping, her head rolling back as her neck shattered in a dozen places, and the old mare's body rolled to a stop just a few feet from her daughter.
Tootsie didn't have time to scream as her head disappeared within Gilda's cock; The tip of her cock flexed, and there was a crunch as the filly's headless body flopped to the floor. A gasp passed over the crowd, along with more than a few choked sobs, mostly from the filly's friends and family; Gilda counted at least three ponies whose coats and manes bore similar colors to the dead filly. Making eye contact with one of them, she winked, causing him to vomit.
“Who's ready for even more presents!” Pinkie's arrival was heralded by the explosion of a party cannon, streamers and confetti blasting through the air. Everypony turned to stare, including the griffoness, whose cock still dripped with the filly's blood. There was a long beat as Pinkie stared, her eyes wide, a stack of freshly-wrapped boxes falling from her hooves and scattering across the floor. Then, something changed, like an invisible switch had been flipped. Pinkie's expression changed from one of surprise to rage as she caught sight of the filly's corpse, her mane deflating like a balloon, falling around her head in boughs of straight hair. Her lip twitched slightly, revealing gritted teeth.
Pinkie leapt at Gilda, shrieking an incoherent cry of rage, and Gilda swatted her out of the air as casually as one swats a fly, sending the pink mare to the ground. Before she could get up, Gilda planted one of her massive footpaws atop her back, listening with satisfaction as the mare's spine popped, vertibrae snapping apart beneath her sheer weight. Pinkie's screams were like music to her ears.
“You-you-you-you absolute meanie!” Pinkie screamed, tears of rage and grief pouring from her eyes. Gilda had never seen the pink mare in such a state. It amused her enough not to kill her right away. “You killed her! On her cute-ceañera! She was innocent! She had her whole life ahead of her, and your big dumb dick gobbled up her head!”
Even now, trapped and crippled by the monster, she didn't stop squirming and trying to fight, her forelegs shuffling weakly against the floor, which her useless hindlegs just sat there, as if heedless of the mare's plight.
“Yeah,” Gilda rolled her eyes, her smirk growing wider with Pinkie's every word, “And you know what? It tasted fucking foul, like the rest of your treats.”
“My – My treats?” Pinkie paused, taken somewhat aback by the sudden change in topic, “What do my treats have to do with you murdering a little filly?”
“She was a treat to me, you see? Some ponies, the ones I really fucking hate, I'll eat. It takes a lot of energy to fuel this murder machine, you know?”
“Then... Why not just eat the cakes and candies instead of ponies?”
“Because I like eating things alive, Pinkie.”
“Then... Eat them! Please, in the name of Celestia, eat them instead of me! I don't want to be part of you!”
Tapping her chin, Gilda appeared to be deep in thought. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders.
“Nah, I prefer live meat.” With that, Gilda clenched her fists and raised a leg, letting out a roaring fart so powerful that nopony in the crowd of partygoers had time to react; They had barely even started to choke when their flesh began to sizzle, their eyeballs popping, organs bloating and rupturing within their bodies, before one by one, they burst like the bloodbags they were. Gilda didn't even look at them, instead savoring the horrified expression on Pinkie Pie's face as a dozen innocent ponies died in agony, their bellies bursting, their hearts swelling in their chests, crushing their lungs and breaking their ribs before finally shredding themselves into a fine paste of viscera.
“Get it over with, then,” Pinkie groaned, the sound of defeat heavy in her voice. The poor mare, for all her mood swings, was sinking into despair, and Gilda loved every second of it. She wasn't just going to bite the mare's head off and be done with it, however – There was another body part of hers that wasn't yet satisfied. She moved her foot off of the mare's back, her snapped spine making escape impossible, and spent a few minutes watching as she struggled toward the door.
Gilda's claws sunk deep into her assmeat, her cheeks squishing like a pair of beanbags as she spread them apart, sending out a wave of hot, rancid stink. Her butthole wasn't just a donut, but a spare tire, thick and bloated from her calorie-laden diet, and stained nearly black by the sheer volume of farts she constantly pumped out. Spreading her cheeks caused her donut to stretch out, letting a pocket of trapped wind hiss forth, causing Pinkie to gag. A constant stream of brownish grease oozed forth from the hole, like a broken sewage pipe leaking its foul contents; It was pure fartjuice, so densely concentrated that it turned from vapor to liquid, growing ever more rancid in its new state.
“It's hungry,” The griffoness taunted. Sliding her claws down, she plunged them into that bloated ring and stretched it wide enough to admit a pony's head. Pinkie stared at the gaping abyss, the reddish walls of the griffoness's bowels almost glowing from their sheer pungence.
“Just kill me,” The earth pony muttered, sobs wracking her body as the true horror of her fate set in. Gilda could only laugh.
“How many times do I need to tell you?” Gilda chuckled, looming over Pinkie; She wiggled her hole, sending a few droplets of fartjuice across the mare's fur, forming permanent brown stains in her pink coat. “You're food, Pinkie. Act like it.”
“No, no, no,” Was all that came from Pinkie's mouth as she stared up into the gaping crevasse that would soon engulf her; Even as Gilda's butthole came lower and lower, the griffoness's legs flexing and seeming to swell with muscle, she denied her fate, shaking her head to get rid of the steady stream of greasy sweat that now poured down across it, staining her mane and burning her nostrils. This couldn't be it, her life couldn't end like this! She thought back to her childhood at the rock farm, to meeting her friends, all the adventures they'd shared – Was she, the element of laughter, going to die in this horrific situation? She was supposed to be happy, not sad! Not-not-
It was then that something snapped within Pinkie's mind. The sheer disgust and horror of the situation overwhelmed the pink party pony, and as Gilda's hole came within a few feet of her head, she began to laugh. It started as a chuckle, quickly blossoming into a manic cackle as the last of the mare's sanity dripped away, leaving only a shrieking lunatic to be eaten by the hungry beast. Heat radiated from Gilda's hole, and Pinkie's sweat soon mingled with the slime oozing from that disgusting donut; Her hair began to curl and blacken, sizzling as the temperature grew hotter and hotter, her insides showing their true nature as an oven.
Pinkie didn't even scream as her head was engulfed, didn't even stop laughing; The muffled sound of her laughter only stopped when her lungs ran out of oxygen, and the furnace-like environment of Gilda's rectum snuffed out her life. Limply, the rest of her body followed up the hole, Gilda's donut stretching to impossible proportions as she slurped the pony up, leaving behind nothing but a filthy smear on the floor. She could feel the dead mare sliding up through her intestines, her body slowly dissolving, and then, her belly surged out as the remains of the mare splashed into it, ready to be digested.
Gilda felt a pressure rising up her throat, and let out a belch so foul that the very walls of the building began to decay, creaking as their structural integrity weakened, nails rusting, boards rotting to mulch; The upper floor began to sway ominously, and Gilda took this as her time to leave. Walking away from the charnal house, patting her pony-filled gut, she didn't even glance back as Sugarcube Corner collapsed behind her.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                    An Ending To Things                    
//-------------------------------------------------------//
An Ending To Things
The 784th Apple Family reunion was off to a rocky start. It wasn't just because Uncle Zester was drunk – Though he was – And it wasn't thanks to Great-Aunt Fuji dressing up like a racist caricature of a zebra, despite knowing full well that Zecora had been invited. Rather, it was the impending apocalypse that put a damper on festivities before they had a chance to get off the ground.
The Apple Family, despite all rumors to the contrary, weren't stupid. They knew when to fight, when to hide, and most importantly, when the end of the world was coming about. All the signs were right, according to those family members who were old enough to remember such things; The distant explosions, the green clouds, the fact that the zap apple harvest had taken a whole 3.24 minutes longer to complete this year than last. It all came together under the auspices of prophecy, ancient tales handed through the generations warning of the ultimate destruction of Equestria, and the planet of Equus as a whole. The sinners – Read, those who weren't part of the Apple Family – Would be exterminated, and the world would be gifted unto those who deserved it. The most important part, as far as Applejack was concerned, was the utter annihilation of all inferior crops. No longer would land be wasted for things like carrots and turnips, oranges and pears; Only apples would survive the coming cleansing, and as the family manned their makeshift barricade, they were prepared to defend their god-given destiny.
The farm's fence was reinforced by everything from scrap metal to furniture, to parts of an unfinished secondary barn that had been repurposed for just such an occasion. Behind it stood a hundred ponies armed with crossbows, spears, slingshots, anything and everything capable of holding off any attackers. Nopony had attacked yet, but the road toward the farm was strewn with dead bodies – It was only natural that the citizens of Ponyville would flock here, to somewhere they knew would be well-defended, but they hadn't anticipated the welcome they received. Not one of them was worthy of weathering the apocalypse with the family, not even the foals of their closest friends – To allow just one sinner into the fold would be to forsake the Great Apple's blessing, and so to bring destruction down upon their heads.
Behind the defensive perimeter, sitting on the porch of the Sweet Apple Homestead, an ancient crone sat in a rocking chair, watching the destruction before her with an impassive expression.
“'Tis a shame, but such is th' lot o' th' world,” Granny Smith muttered, taking a long drag from a bottle of apple schnapps.
Applejack didn't respond at first, just tipping her hat down to keep the increasingly greenish glare of the sun out of her eyes.
“Ah jes' wish mah friends could be here,” Her voice was as deep and slow as molasses, cracking slightly at the thought of the other elements, and the fate of Equestria as a whole. She wasn't as interested in the old traditions as the rest of her family, making connections with those whom the ancient clan traditionally shunned. Granny Smith just shook her head in response, her sagging jowls wobbling as she downed the last of her bottle and tossed it aside, landing in the bushes at the base of the stairs.
“Land's sakes, gran,” The orange mare shook her head, hopping down the stairs to grab it. Drinking, littering, was that all the ancient clan was good for these days? Glancing over at the defenses, she watched as the motley group of redneck militia passed bottles of cider between one another, part of the libation for the now-canceled party. Some were even sitting around, chowing down on pies and fritters that had been left out when the chaos first began. A few were even drunk, and staggering around like idiots, some still carrying their weapons in their careless grips.
“'Questria's dyin' an' we're sittin' here slaughterin' our neighbors. T'ain't right.”
Granny Smith turned to her granddaughter with a strange look in her eye, a sort of half-mad gleam that Applejack had rarely ever seen outside of zap apple season. When the elderly mare opened her mouth, her voice seemed to lose the gravelly creaking of her advanced age, and spoke with the fervor and conviction of a mare twenty or fifty years younger.
“Applejack,” She began, fixing the orange mare in a fiery gaze, “This 'ere's our destiny. We was promised this from th' beginnin', when yer great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather first discovered zap apples an' communed wit' th' Gods o' th' Harvest. Only th' Great Apple can save us from destruction – How can y'all doubt that the end is nigh when th' very air turns greener'n yer face after seein' yer brother whackin' off?”
Applejack groaned, but before her grandmother could continue her devout rant, there was a strange noise, a rumbling that shook through the ground and caused the ponies of the defense to cry out in shock. Applejack turned, scampering down the stairs and straining her head to see what in Celestia's Green Equestria was frightening them, hardened mares and stallions all?
What she saw made her gasp.
Fluttershy didn't know which was more concerning – The green cloud floating where the city of Cloudsdale once was, or the twisted, half-melted spire of the Friendship Castle, smoke still pouring from a high window. In the end, she decided against going into town today. Shopping could wait, she still had plenty of food for herself and the animals, and anything else she might happen to need could easily be postponed until tomorrow, or the next day, or next week... However long it took until the damage was cleared away and everything rebuilt. If anypony needed her help, they'd come get her. After all, Twilight had Spike's dragonfire on her side. If he sent her a message, she'd rush right to it, but for now, she was content to huddle under her blanket, holding Angel's fuzzy little body close to her chest.
The bunny wasn't overly impressed with his owner's decision, wiggling and squirming in an attempt to escape, but it was useless against Fluttershy's fright-frozen muscles. If the sight of the burning town had frightened the mare, then the strange noises from just outside the cottage door absolutely terrified her. The animals were utterly silent, without so much as a tweeting bird or a snorting deer to break the unnatural quietude. The only audible sound, aside from the rapid pounding of her heart, was a low gurgling like boiling water in a covered pot.
“Fluttershy,” Came the voice from outside, “Come out and play with me.”
“N-n-no,” Was the stammering reply.
“Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down.”
Fluttershy huddled even deeper under the blanket, trembling at what the voice might mean; Gilda, meanwhile took another bite from her manticore drumstick, wiped the blood from her chin, and thrust her immense rod against the flimsy timber wall.
The griffoness's cock slammed into the wall with the force of a wrecking ball, sending splinters flying across the room. Fluttershy screamed as a hundred little knifepoints dug into her side, followed by the solid, painful thud of a broken beam against her midsection, but she managed to scramble under the bed before the whole thing caved in on her. The cottage didn't last long at all, crumbling to rumble in mere seconds. After the dust settled Fluttershy wriggled through the wreckage and clambered out, crawling through a hole in the collapsed roof , through which shone the green sunlight.
There was hardly a need to describe the beast before her, for indeed, her mind could barely comprehend it. Three legs, two arms, two wings – Make that third leg a penis, actually. Fluttershy was no stranger to ferocious beasts, living so close to the Everfree forest that she could watch the manticores trundling through the underbrush from her dining room window, but nothing could've prepared her for Gilda. The ground around the ruined cottage was strewn with the bodies of animals, dismembered manticores, birds plucked of their feathers, tiny bloodsplatters where small creatures had been crushed into the ground – And beyond, the Everfree itself was ablaze, plumes of smoke rising high in the sky.
Every last one of her animal friends was dead. Mr. Falcon's body lay at the base of a tree, while his severed wings hung in the upper branches. Mrs. Brisby and her little rodent family were nothing more than a smear of gore across the grass, with only a few shattered bones to indicate they ever existed at all. Even poor angel bunny...
But – What was that sound? Fluttershy's heart froze, then swelled as she turned her head to peer down a bunny burrow, so small that it was almost unnoticeable in the grass. Gilda hadn't noticed it before, being too preoccupied with massacring everything in sight to worry about a few tiny creatures escaping, but now, she stomped over to it, her massive feet leaving deep craters in the ground. Poking a clawed toe down the hole, she rooted around a little, eliciting terrified shrieks from the bunnies within, then flicked upward, breaking the roof and revealing a few dirty, terrified lapines. Fluttershy's eyes widened – She recognized these bunnies!
“Th-this is the only colony of Uisce Beatha bunnies in the world!” She shouted, as if she honestly thought she could deter the griffoness, “Don't h-hurt them, I beg you!”
Reaching into the burrow, there was a squeak as Gilda wrapped her claws around the head of one of the bunnies and pulled it out, chuckling as the little creature's feet flapped uselessly in the air. What was she about to do? Crush the poor thing? Bite it in half? The second one seemed likely, as she brought the creature up close to her beak. Fluttershy averted her eyes, unwilling to watch the death of such an innocent little creature, and in doing so, she noticed just how round and full Gilda's abdomen seemed – Instead of the usual washboard, the griffoness's midsection was bloated as if with octuplets, and as she pressed the bunny's mouth against her beak, her belly let out a gurgle – Then, she burped.
It barely took a second to inflate the little bunny to the breaking point, turning from a plump little creature to a near-perfect sphere the size of a beachball, covered in red stretch marks. It was clear from the way the bunny's bloated body gurgled and quivered that it wasn't long for this world, but instead of simply letting him pop, Gilda had a better idea. Gently placing the bunnyloon atop the entrance to the burrow, she pushed it down with the ball of her foot, and then, when it was as far down as possible, she slammed her heel down on its rounded back, causing the little creature to pop like an overly bloated zit and directing the explosion straight down. The little family didn't stand a chance against the noxious tide.
“They're extinct,” Gilda chuckled, letting out a smaller belch, “Emphasis on the stink.”
“You monster!” Fluttershy shrieked, her eyes burning with rage as she stared up at the foul beast. Gilda had to admit, she was impressed at how the yellow cunt stood up to her. She expected her to be a pushover, hell, she was pretty sure that a single drop of cum would be enough to melt her pathetic soul from the very face of Equestria, and yet, somehow, the pegasus had mustered up the courage to defy her.
It was cute, just like a chicken clucking before being slaughtered.
There was a power in that gaze, Gilda could feel it, a tingling sensation as if her eye sockets were itching, flowing back into her brain, seeping into her very soul... A sense like ice, all her thoughts grinding to a halt, as her body froze as solid as a statue. However, even Fluttershy's powerful Stare was unable to fully incapacitate the griffoness, and she quickly realized what was happening – A few more seconds, and she'd be utterly under the pegasus's control, forced to submit not only to a mere pony, but the weakest one of all!
It barely took a twitch to shatter the mare's mental chains, sending the pegasus reeling back with a pained cry. Broken veins crisscrossed her eyes, blood oozing from a tear duct... Who would've suspected mere thoughts could hurt so much?
Her memories... She clutched her head, screaming in agony as Gilda's glare pierced through to the very core of her being, burning away everything that was, everything that could've been. Her childhood began to twist and melt, memories of her parents fading, of flight camp – Oh, she remembered flight camp, but through the perspective of a horny young griffoness, whose massive cock tore the coach's asshole open so badly that he needed stitches! But it wasn't right, and she knew it. Just thinking about it caused the mare to weep in agony, struggling to keep hold of herself beneath the unstoppable assault. Pain of a wholly different sort pulsed in her mind, the bursting of synapses, thoughts melting into nothing more than vapor.
The Stare might cause one's body and mind to separate, at least momentarily, but Gilda's steely glare was enough to split them apart forever, leaving the mare trapped within her own mind. Her bowels felt hot and heavy, and she loosed them without meaning to, followed by her bladder, and into this fetid puddle she collapsed, muscles twitching, eyes fluttering like one in the throes of an epileptic fit.
Fluttershy was in Tartarus, that was the only way to describe it. Her thoughts and those belonging to Gilda clashed together, her kindness against the infinite cruelty of one who could only be described as a Goddess of Death; All that came out of the pegasus's mouth was a stream of foalish babble, gurgling through a mouthful of drool. Fluttershy existed – The mare's personality was still there, trapped within her own mind, while an impression of the griffoness's mind toyed with it, dragging it through the deaths of every one of her friends. Fluttershy felt Twilight's skull give way beneath the force of her cock, and listened to Pinkie Pie's last choking sobs.
Horror pulsed through her mind's eye at the speed of thought. Every second in this nightmare seemed to stretch on and on, dragging out for centuries, millennia – Her body just lay there, breathing so shallowly that Gilda honestly thought she was dead, while her mind remained locked in a cycle of torment stretching through eternity. After a few minutes – Hundreds of years, in Fluttershy's warped perception – Gilda took flight, her immense wings fanning the burning forest into ever-greater pillars of flame.
Sweet Apple Acres burned. Huddling in the ruins of her family home, Applejack dared not peek out through the broken windows at the carnage beyond; The sound alone was enough. Her head was pounding, her heart racing, her mouth as dry as the dust of Appleoosa, and behind her, on the opposite side of a thin plankboard wall, her family was dying.
It had come so suddenly, the death that swept down upon them, so swiftly and fatally that some of the so-called defenders died with their bottles of whiskey and cider still clutched in their hooves. A brown mountain, ten feet tall and wider than five ponies combined, rushed down the hill with the speed and force of an avalanche, sweeping aside all in its way. Killing frightened ponies was easy for the defenders, but against this monster, a beast spawned in the very lowest depths of Tartarus, they didn't stand a chance, didn't even have a chance to break and run; The wind of death blew across the farm, and the beast smashed through the barricade; Applejack dived into the house at the very moment the nearby barn collapsed, knocking into the house and sending it toppling over like a domino; It was only the luck of the draw that left Applejack safe, and moreover, completely unharmed, huddled in a corner of the kitchen that somehow avoided the fate of the rest of the house. Applebloom had been upstairs, told to wait until the chaos ended and the adults came for her; Her weak cries had died down a while ago, as the twisted beams of the ruined house slowly squeezed the life out of the filly.
Out of the ruins Applejack climbed, weak and exhausted, maybe even dying – Every last inch of her body pounded with pain as she stumbled across the ground, past broken bodies on her way toward... Where, exactly? The horizon was orange with flame, contrasting against the sickly green sky. Eventually, she stumbled and fell sidelong, and didn't get up again. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend that she was already dead.
Blood lubricated her dry throat, giving every breath a gurgling quality. She didn't know how long she'd lain there, or how much time had passed since she first regained consciousness; Every once in a while she'd pass out, only to be woken up by the pain spiraling up and down her spine. Gilda was off doing something – She didn't know what, exactly. When the griffoness returned, it was with the feline leg of a manticore clutched in a claw, which she quickly stripped of flesh and tossed the bones aside, added to the pile of her family's remains.
She was still hungry – By Celestia's mane, Gilda was still hungry. Applejack's pain-crazed brain could barely conceive of anything other than this simple, terrible fact.
“Still alive?” The words were spoken too quietly for the mare to hear, but the tired chuckle that ensued made her wince in fear. Gilda wasn't exhausted, no, a creature like her had an unlimited store of energy, even after all the horrors she'd perpetrated since waking up this morning. The exhaustion was simply one of creativity, trying to figure out what end to give to this mare, this paragon of honesty, of family, of truth... She'd already taken away her family, and so thoroughly broken her that honesty was off the table. Really, the only thing left would be to take away those big legs of hers. Now there was a fine backside – It was a shame to let her die without reaming it at least once, but Gilda had an appointment to keep with an old friend, and so granted the mare this small modicum of mercy.
When Applejack came to, her hooves were already in the griffoness's mouth – The rest of her was laying on the ground. It was the sudden burst of pain as Gilda's beak sliced through her ankles that brought her back to reality, thrashing and screaming. Her damaged hearing turned the sound of her own scream into a mere whisper, yet she could still hear the bones crunching in the griffon's mouth as she turned her prized applebuckers into paste.
Gripping a leg in each hand, Gilda slowly pulled them apart, listening to the gristle tearing as the joints popped out of their sockets. Tendons snapped like high tension wire, blood vessels bursting and spraying their contents across the ground, adding to the sanguine-colored earth around her. With a final, sickening crack, the mare's hipbone snapped in two and her body dropped to the ground, leaving Gilda with a pair of severed legs to munch on. Pressing the drumsticks against her backside, she let out a dense fart, powerful enough to burn the fur from the legs and sear the flesh to a charcoal brown. Gilda hadn't eaten cooked meat in a long time, and frankly, the taste was disappointing.
Applejack's heart hadn't quite stopped beating yet, so, grabbing the dying mare by the scruff of the neck, she hefted her up over her head, letting the blood pour from her shattered pelvis all across the griffoness's head and shoulders. It was better than the showers back at the gym, that was for sure. Eventually, the mare's twitching subsided, as did the flow of blood, and Gilda dropped Applejack into her mouth. With a single gulp, the last survivor of the Apple family disappeared down the griffoness's gullet, never to be seen again.
Gilda let out a belch as the mare splashed down in her stomach, but held in the fart that was stirred up by her motion. Much as she hated letting it go to waste, she needed to save some gas for later.
The blue streak came blazing in from Canterlot at the tip of a supersonic rainbow. Honestly, Gilda was disappointed. She expected Rainbow Dash to confront her much earlier. Though, it was fitting that she'd be the last one of her friends to die. All those years of friendship, from their meeting on the first day of flight school, all the way to their ultimate falling out... She was the only pony – No, the only living being who ever earned Gilda's esteem, let alone her friendship. They had all that, and the blue bitch threw it all away for some pathetic ponies.
The mare was going too fast to stop, streaking past Gilda and disappearing into the distance, bleeding velocity with every passing second. At last, she spun around and returned to the burning ruins of Ponyville, and over to the farm. Rainbow Dash was dressed in the armor of a Canterlot guard, no doubt hastily outfitted for a scouting mission to Ponyville. Her expression, to the degree that Gilda could see it through her gas mask, was a mix of rage and horror, and when she got close enough to speak, her voice burned with fury.
“G-Gilda, how could you- You-”
“How could I what?” The griffoness chuckled, crushing a skull beneath her sludge-caked footpaw, “Murder your friends? Destroy that godsforsaken eyesore you ponies call Cloudsdale?”
“Yes! I always knew you were a bitch, but we were friends! I- I never thought you could be capable of something like this!”
“You were always dense, Dash. You know you're gonna die, right?”
“I-I'll die if it means saving the rest of Equestria from you! Get ready, 'cause the entire Equestrian army is about to bring the thunder!”
“I'll bring the thunder on them,” Gilda smirked, revealing a set of blood-stained teeth, “And I'll crush the throat of that bitch you call a princess.”
Before Dash could open her mouth to respond, the griffoness continued, “Tell you what, Dash, I'll offer you a bargain. Nothing satisfies me anymore – I'm too big, too powerful to be sated by normal pleasures. I can fuck a mare to death without thinking about it, and go through a dozen before I even cum. If you can fuck me – I mean, really, truly, fuck me, then I'll consider sparing your pathetic species. How does that sound?”
It didn't sound good at all. Rainbow wasn't exactly a nymphomaniac, and Gilda's cock was almost as wide as her entire body. What choice did she have? If she didn't do this, Equestria would die just like Cloudsdale and Ponyville had died. If she, Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, was given a chance, just a chance, to spare the lives of her entire species, she had to take it, even if it meant dying on Gilda's massive rod.
With a stiff nod, Rainbow Dash agreed to the deal, and before she could so much as move, Gilda's claws were on her, ripping off her shirt and tearing her compression shorts to shreds. Being a lifelong athlete, her ass was flat and frankly, rather uninteresting. Gilda much preferred those of her friends – Even Rarity's flank was more appealing, and it was mostly melted at this point. But, alas, this was the last living piece of ass in Ponyville, and she'd be damned if she didn't give it a good reaming.
There was no way Rainbow's pussy could take the griffoness's beastly cock, but that was fine. Her powers transcended reality itself. The pegasus could only gasp as a wave of mutagenic magic rushed through her loins, causing her pelvis to crack and expand, her pussy bloating up between her legs, going from a mere slit of a pair of fat, drooping lips, oozing clear fluid across the ground. A tingling rose through her groin as her new pussy revved up into breeding mode, the flabby lips twitching at the thought of such a magnificent cock penetrating them. Running a finger through Rainbow's slit, Gilda tasted her vaginal fluid and hummed in enjoyment, while Rainbow could only groan in unwelcome pleasure.
Her cock slid in easily, just as Gilda knew it would. The head was the size of a medicine ball, but Rainbow's pussy accepted it easily, along with the first few feet of her shaft. It didn't stop at her uterus, no, reality itself had turned against poor Rainbow, and her organs pushed aside to give the monstrous rapist more space to penetrate. In her regular state, Gilda's rod would've quite literally split her in half, but now, every inch brought a mixture of pleasure and pain, her insides burning with the fires of love and hate. She felt like a fleshlight, her hooves and wings wiggling uselessly as four solid feet of flesh filled her insides, prodding at the back of her throat. All she could taste was cum, so thick and salty that her tongue curled up and gums blackened from the desiccating power.
Her stomach creaked and gurgled as it began to expand, untold gallons of rank jizz pouring in; Lesser ponies died from such things, but the Element of Loyalty could survive just about anything, even being forcibly transformed into a cum-filled cocksock. Squeezing her eyes shut, Rainbow tried to ignore the beast's rhythmic thrusting, filling her mind with something, anything else – Twenty percent cooler, she was twenty percent cooler. The words repeated like a mantra, and she could almost ignore the painful swelling of her belly as a sudden burst of pre flowed into it.
Rainbow's belly was the size of a beachball, the flesh turning a deep, angry red as stretchmarks streaked across the surface. Cum oozed through her grit teeth, from her tearducts and nose, mingling with blood. She was in absolute agony, but by Celestia's teats, she was actually doing it! Her body creaked and groaned, threatening to splatter apart with every passing second. It felt like there was a small st
“That's the end of the pre,” Gilda chuckled, and Rainbow's heart twisted in her chest. Now began the real fucking – Gone was the steady thrusting, now, Gilda slammed the mare's head into the ground with such force that her forehead cracked open, sending a burst of pain through Rainbow's skull. Her overstretched pussy could take the griffon's rod when she was being relatively gentle, but her loose flaps were growing increasingly raw with every thrust, until blood began running down the griffoness's cock in thick streams. Pain was beginning to overshadow the pleasure, dragging Rainbow back into reality. Escape was impossible – She was going to die on Gilda's cock. The only thing that kept her from giving up completely was the thought that maybe, just maybe, Equestria would be spared by her sacrifice.
Her belly was more like a waterbed than anything, with her blue fur spread out across the surface so that the color of her coat was almost invisible against the bright red flesh. Gilda's immense weight bore down upon her, shoving the mare into her own belly as if being shoved into a mattress; It was so tight, every thrust sent ominous creaks throughout the surface. The agony was unbelievable, and Rainbow couldn't stop from screaming herself hoarse, her voice cracking as new agonies ran through her; Her pussy finally began to tear beneath Gilda's rough lovemaking, while cum began burbling through her nostrils, down her tearducts, even from her burst eardrums. She didn't feel like a pony anymore; Was she even a pony, or just a condom? Perhaps her entire life, from childhood through flight school, everything she accomplished, everything she was – Was all just a dream, and she was nothing more than a pony-shaped condom for the destroyer of the species.
“Darn, Dashie, I figured you'd have burst a while ago! You're one of the biggest blimps I've ever seen!” Gilda's claws dug into Rainbow's flanks, splitting the flesh and eliciting streams of blood, “Maybe I'll let you go and spend the rest of your life like this, just a big, useless blimp, watching your world burn.”
“Actually, nah, I think I'll just kill you and slaughter Equestria.”
Gilda's words cut through her condom's mental haze, and for just a moment, a semblance of intelligent returned to Rainbow Dash's eyes as she realized how badly she had failed. Then, because it was the total of what remained, she gave in to it, went along with it as her belly erupted outward like a rupturing water balloon. Her belly button lurched, then exploded, sending forth a spray of blood and cum, mixing into a pink paste that covered the ground and choked the life out of the few remaining tufts of grass. The hole expanded across her belly, splitting it into two parts and letting the entire contents of her body – Cum, blood, bones, organs – Flow forth across the ground.
In a way, she was lucky – The mare's life left almost as soon as her body burst open, with her final sight being the first drops of cum flowing from her ruptured torso, unlike some, whose torments stretched on forever. The farmyard, already drenched in blood, was flooded under another deluge as Rainbow's very life poured out across it, soaking into the ground and spreading untold pollution throughout the soil. Nothing would ever grow here again, not in a century, nor a thousand centuries. In a final twist of cosmic irony, the resting place of the Apple family would always remain barren.
Gilda was soaked from head to foot in her own cum. Her tongue slipped from her mouth and licked a circle around her beak, smacking her beak in satisfaction at the powerful, salty flavor. She took a step back to survey the damage. Nothing remained of Rainbow Dash but a few cum-soaked scraps of flesh, which swiftly disappeared amid the sea of boiling sperm. A fitting end to the bitch, as far as she was concerned.
She looked around at the blasted landscape, the ruined town, the burning forest. The sight of such destruction brought a tear to her eye, and white one to her cock. It was incredible that one creature could cause so much destruction, but then again, that creature just happened to be the only truly awesome thing to ever come out of Griffonstone. Pony dweebs didn't stand a chance.
There was still one thing left to do, however. Grunting, Gilda clenched her fists, working up her bowels into a steady roar. The pressure grew within her belly, churning it up into a ball of flaming gas, stretching, creaking, until she couldn't possibly contain it anymore, and then, with a single flex of her mighty asshole, the earth shook.
The gas flowed across Equestria like a cleansing wind, disintegrating everything in its path, from Canterlot to the sands of Saddle Arabia. Celestia, working from a bunker since the beginning of the crisis, never knew what hit her as the very mountain she dwelt within turned into so much stardust; The legions of troops mustering to fight back against the beast were no mater, dying in parade formation and blowing across the barren plain left behind by Gilda's stench. Even the spiraling towers of the Crystal Empire dissolved into nothing more than mist, replaced by green air and cracked brown soil.
Families died together, those who were aware of the events in Ponyville and those in the dark, from highest society to the lowliest peasant. Homeless ponies died alongside the wealthy. All Prince Blueblood's gold couldn't stop his very soul from being blasted from existence, nor the barn wherein Braeburn and Soarin' were enjoying a tryst. Being so close to the outhouse, they didn't think anything of the smell until their eyes were melting and their flesh fusing together from the extreme heat. Even after the barn itself fell to dust, a lump of blackened carbon stood on the prairie like a statue of Siamese twins.
The buffalo went extinct in the first minute of the blast, the yaks in the first hour; Prince Rutherford staggered through his palace, cloaked in flame as his fabulous hair ignited. Even in the dragonlands, where the inhabitants were used to extreme temperatures, death had arrived. It came slowly at first, a dense smog creeping over the volcanic landscape, engulfing all those who failed to run. Relaxing in a magma pool, Garble didn't realize what was happening until his scales began to curl, and suddenly, that near-invulnerability of his draconic body became a curse. It took him minutes, rather than seconds to die.
The longest to live, by far, was Ember, whose staff managed to protect her from the smog, but not from the heat. While her subjects suffocated and melted around her, she remained alive. The temperature seemed pleasant at first, a mere tingle above the usual oppressive heat, but it quickly grew unbearable even for her. That brilliant blue coat slowly turned brown as she was baked alive in her scales. Her screams echoed across the dead kingdom for hours, before at last, in the utmost extreme of agony, her claws faltered, and the staff dropped from her grasp.
The Everfree Forest had become a desolate wasteland, the Whitetail Wood, a desert. Even near Appleoosa, where the desert was already as dry as a bone, death crept into the cracks, vaporizing springs and turning cacti into shriveled twigs, which collapsed atop the carbonized remains of scorpions. Not a single tree survived; Even the Tree of Harmony, hidden safely within its grotto, began to crack and twist as the griffoness's gas reached it. Boughs broke off, spreading shards of crystal across the ground, and then, at last, the entire thing came crashing down, putting a permanent end to that which the ponies of Equestria had fought for for millennia.
Soon, even Griffonstone was erased from the face of the planet, leaving Gilda as the last survivor of the species. Death itself engulfed the world, blotting out the sun and turning the atmosphere into a greenish-black miasma, spreading deeper and deeper into space with every passing second, until the moon dissolved and the sun itself began to flicker.
The sound was that of a lightbulb burning out, and the dead world was cast in eternal darkness. At last, Gilda, the last living thing on a barren rock formerly known as Equestria, was free. No more dweebs telling her what to do, no more losers refusing to take her cock up their ass; She could enjoy her own company for the rest of eternity. Taking one last long drag of fartgas, Gilda sighed, then parked her ass atop some rubble and started jacking off.