She ran because she wanted to get away from everything. The world was cruel. The world was unfair. The world was bleak. In order to escape, she’d have to kill, kill the ones who had created this wasteland. Although she had no soul, she could take the souls of others, and she had justification in her eyes.

The settlement, under the cover of night, was her target. One by one, she killed all the ponies within. Those with weapons, she took out first, leaving the unarmed helpless and without hope. This was her only escape. This was her only entertainment, and she couldn’t find anything else. The ponies had souls. Why didn’t she? It wasn’t fair!

Holding a limp corpse, the pony unrecognizable in the dark, she consumed until she was interrupted. It was only natural, of course. She was in the middle of the town, out in the open. She could have done anything else. She could have stayed away, but she couldn’t help herself.

Aiming a cold gun at her was the sheriff of the settlement. “Hoov-- er… claws up, mutant!” His horn gave little illumination to his face, but she could see his fear, and it gave her satisfaction. She dropped the corpse and rose to her feet, her hind legs easily making her taller than the quadruped.

“Hey! I said to put your claws up!” The sheriff repeated. He sounded serious, sure, but she knew. Like all the rest, he was just a little pony, playing a role that had no real meaning in a lawless world. He had false hope, and she’d fix that.

She lashed forward, her body closing the distance with a sound much like a cracking whip, her claws outstretched and taking ahold of the sheriff’s face. In surprise, he released a muffled cry in fear. For him, it was too soon to die. For her, he was already dead from the start. She released an unnatural scream and clenched her hand, claws digging into his head and making him twitch.

He was done for, he knew it. He shouldn’t have taken this job. It was only a matter of time until some raider or mutant killed him. He shouted frantically as the claws dug deeper, and it was scary to him, to know that this stalker would be his downfall, the worst of all creatures to ever encounter in the wasteland other than a hellhound.

As she was about to crush his skull, a buzzing noise rang out and she screamed, pain pulsing through her right leg. She dropped him, and he took his chance, running off, never to encounter her again. She looked down at her leg, the familiar red ooze dripping down it. It was funny to her. She loved seeing blood, but never her own.

“Patience, you really need to stop,” said a calm, familiar male’s voice.

The stalker looked up and saw… another stalker. His furless skin was blotched with red, a reminder that he had gone through more than she ever could. The female named Patience flicked out her tongue momentarily before withdrawing it back in. “Never… I want them gone! They did this to us! It’s not fair! I want a soul! I have no purpose!”

“Shut the fuck up,” the male replied. “It doesn’t work like that. Consuming souls doesn’t give you one. You have to find your own. Only then can you move on.”

“How can I find what doesn’t exist?” Patience asked. “It’s hopeless… They laugh at us, I know they do! They fucked up the world, and they get to keep their souls?! We did nothing to deserve this! It’s their fault!”

“Your name certainly doesn’t fit your personality,” the male remarked. This enraged her. Her anger was overwhelming, and even he could feel it. She rushed at him in a flash, stabbing her claws into his chest. She began ripping into him without any hesitation. As she did this, she laughed. She laughed at the joys of cutting into flesh, the joys of killing, and ending a pitiful life.

Then, without a trace, he just vanished, Patience’s claws swiping the air. Where was he? She needed to justify her wants! Come back! And there he was, behind her. Her tongue could briefly detect his presence, his heat signature just barely there. She turned around, swiping in his direction, missing him. It was as if he were a ghost, her claws passing through the heat she had sensed.

“Where are you?! Let me kill you! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!” Patience screamed, now scraping at the ground and pounding onto it as if she were an angry gorilla. She then… broke down, crying. Tears leaked from her empty eye sockets, shedding for the life that had once been.

He had been in her mind, because she had killed him decades ago, and he haunted her. A ghost, or a memory, she didn’t know. All she knew was that it was all her fault. She’d never find love again. A mere argument was all it took for her to snap and throw away everything, and she could never get it back.

But then… a noise lightly touched her eardrum. There was still life here, and it was outside of the settlement. She extended her tongue, the organ feeling for heat. It was getting closer. She hid inside of an abandoned shack, staring out the window, her body completely motionless. She could see someone, and he was with two others. She became focused only on him.

In order to get over her past love, she would have to embrace the other. This was a sign to her. This person would be hers. She would have him, and he would love her, hold her, tell her she had purpose.

As she was just starting to move, she stiffened again, feeling something beneath her feet. It was… an old tape recorder. Yes, that’s it. She’d make it a diary. She’d keep a record of this momentous event. She would record down her efforts to make him all hers.

“Dear diary, today I found my new flame…”

Author's Note

Be sure to read the chapter before this if you haven't already for a big surprise.~

Happy Halloween, little ponies.