Flutterlich

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Written by: Oneimare

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Death Is Only the Beginning

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You Die Only Once.

One might think experiencing petrification would imbue a chicken mind with a modicum of common sense. Unfortunately, the poultry brain had failed to retain such an important lesson—very unfortunately for Fluttershy.

And this time Elizabeak’s adventuresome mood lacked even a decent justification as the errant bird simply slipped out from the coop during the evening hours, compelling the poor pegasus to embark into the infamous woods on its behest, whilst the midnight lowered its sable veil upon the Everfree Forest, infusing that portentous place even with more malignant intent.

The gnarly and twisted branches reached for Fluttershy akin to the gout-ridden fingers of some eldritch fiend, giving her no choice but to battle with the insidious knotted roots that prevailed where their skyward brethren had failed—ceaselessly catching the pegasus’ hooves with mossbegrown loops of half-rotten wood. The lush canopy had snatched every glimmer of light, leaving only the disturbing phosphorescence of sickly fungus and lichen that gnawed mutely on the decaying trunks; yet, scant it might be, that glow nevertheless succeeded in conjuring countless shadows—and each of them appeared to be life-laden.

The fortuitous sojourn into the sinister weald anon had put an unbearable strain on Fluttershy’s psyche and together they conceived a notion of abandoning the searching effort altogether. However, whenever she attempted to subjugate to the fancy of a retreat and turned back, the insuperable stare of beady eyes met hers; those belonging to a white bunny dutifully clinging to the pegasus’ shoulders.

And so a horse and a rabbit abided the thicket in a seemingly vain endeavour as Elizabeak hadn’t bothered to leave any clue of her passage; the forest had effaced the marks left by the hen’s claws long ago. Trying to summon the eloper with calls equalled signing a death sentence for oneself; Fluttershy already dreaded her accidental whimpers and nickers had brought more than enough unwanted attention to the twain of the intruders. Still, the simultaneously stalwart and reluctant duo had encountered none of the deadly denizens of the forbidden woodland, save for its unwelcoming flora.

The oppressive atmosphere twisted her perception of time and space, so Fluttershy imagined hours had passed hitherto the intertwinement of tree tops let her witness the cold stars and pale Moon. Yet the sight of those wasn’t meant to disperse the pegasus’ ails as the unnatural joined nature—crumbling ancient ruins loomed over the nefandous verdure.

The memory of confronting Luna’s otherworldly corruption well-nigh sent Fluttershy screaming her head off back into the wilds, but a pair of tiny paws squeezed the yellow ears, thus bading the pony attached to them to approach the moat that miraculously survived the elements.

Stumbling, the pegasus sidled to the gargantuan ditch and, still goaded by Angel, crossed it with the aid of her wings—quickly, before her mind would realise what was happening. Yet, as her hooves touched the derelict stone leading thither the castle of old, she couldn’t help but wonder—what was she doing there, if Elizabeak was even a worse flyer than herself? Why would the chicken cross the moat?

The fate gave Fluttershy no chance to contemplate the perennial question as one of the numerous shadows inhabiting the moss-choked rubble moved far beyond the confines of its stony station. Although the dark mass glided at a lethargic pace over the scree, the sight of it turned the mare into a tree; Fluttershy took roots where she stood, completely ignorant to the bunny on her back trying to coax her into a hasty retreat.

The spectre abruptly stopped before the shaking pegasus and a voice rustled through the air, infusing it with the chill of a freshly dug grave. The shivering darkness also spoke in a language foreign to Equestria, yet it somehow ignited the spark of hope in Fluttershy’s heart.

“Oh… Um… Miss… Mister?” she addressed the coiling black wisps, blinking at them innocently.

Just because the Everfree forest had a reputation of a place bestowing death and injury via almost its every inhabitant and the herbage itself, she refused to treat that stranger with anything but earnest kindness till it proved futile.

Peering into the shifting dark form with an intent of discerning the sooth it concealed resulted in a spectacular failure as her curiosity was answered with headache proportional to her strenuousness. However, Fluttershy thought she did catch a glimpse of a body that belonged to a no known creature and its squalid condition—bones wrapped but in pale dry skin helped none to solve that riddle.

“I’m afraid, I don’t understand you,” the pegasus meekly added, dismissing Angel insistently tapping the back of her head; surely, asking the stranger about the missing hen right away would be rude—given their state, they might need help first.

If she bothered to spare her stolid leporine companion even the briefest of glances she would have witnessed him in the clutches of panic, uncharacteristic and sheer.

The living fragment of the night produced a subtle motion, not so dissimilar to waving a limb, and with a gust of icy wind, something changed in the tense atmosphere surrounding the trio. The voice, retaining its disturbing quality, whispered again and, finally to Fluttershy’s concern, right inside her head.

A horse talking? What kind of immature jest is that?

The echo of those contemptuous words still rang in her mind, sending it tumbling into a realm of confusion, as the shadow continued to rave.

The fools! They played themselves by banishing me into a realm ripe with magic… The smoky form swelled, its nebulous core crackling with unhealthy power and cackling with maniacal glee. This world shall bow to my will and thou are to become my first step on that path with the lifeblood of thine… Vaguely resembling a limb, a tendril of swirling obsidian vapour pointed at Fluttershy—what was she supposed to do? But then the shadow faltered with sudden uncertainty. Or would it be better to turn thee into my steed?

The pegasus could only blink at the garrulousness of the unexpected encounter that interrupted her quest for the lost fowl.

Bypassing Fluttershy’s coat and meagre muscle, the preternatural cold had seeped into her marrow, where it cooperated with the exhaustion of traversing the rugged topography, the toil that had already settled deep in her bones; the disrupted schedule that would elsewise have her sleeping soundly under a warm blanket in that insanely late hour readily added to the fog obscuring not just her vision but also her thoughts.

At this point, Angel had given up on trying to knock some sense into Fluttershy’s head through the nape of her neck. Yet, he, of course, daren’t leave his precious mare; so the terrified rabbit burrowed himself into the luscious pink mane, ready to bounce on the strange apparition, were it to do more than just threaten the pegasus.

However, to Fluttershy’s further puzzlement—and Angel’s relief—the smoky silhouette sagged as rapidly as it had waxed heretofore and a sombre whisper rustled the sered leaves peppering the stone that once had borne witness to the warring goddesses.

And what for, prithee tell? To build once again a prosperous empire from scratch only for another group of self-righteous ‘heroes’ to proclaim me a tyrant anew? Yet the alternative is self-exile, with only a plant and beast as a camaraderie of mine…

Fluttershy feebly raised her hoof, ready to comment on that lifestyle coming with lots of perks, but the shadow continued to lament before she had scrounged enough bravery to voice her opinion.

…All the years of study and craft, amounting to nothing but oblivion. The legacy of countless generations fated to end with me…

The inflexion of those words tugged on Fluttershy’s heartstrings—she knew too well that overwhelming sense of utter defeat. Fueling her determination with compassion instead of mettle, she durst to speak, if not reach for the seemingly immaterial entity physically.

“Um, mister?”

Something inside the boiling inky mist snapped at her and under that malevolent gaze Fluttershy regretted opening her mouth; or, maybe, it was just a force of wont.

What do you want, horse?

“My name is Fluttershy,” the pegasus demurely introduced herself, prompted by her politeness rather than being repeatedly addressed in such a deriding fashion. Immensely satisfied that she managed to do it without stuttering, the mare pressed on, “Maybe I could help you?”

Despite that one might think, no ulterior motive guided Fluttershy at that moment—she had completely forgotten her wayward feathered charge. She spoke driven by genuine worry for the creature sounding hauntingly familiar to an average stallion that had reached a certain critical age.

Lacking eyes—or anything resembling a face, for that matter—the volitant shade somehow stared at Fluttershy levelly.

What an absolutely pathetic creature.

“Well, I’m weak and pathetic, but that doesn’t prevent me from being a functional member of society,” the mare agreed with a smile, omitting the actual success rate of that achievement (not to mention—living outside an inhabited area and by the restricted area noticeably compromised the data sample if someone were to bother to further put that statement under scrutiny).

A chuckle, sensible for but a heartbeat, permeated the frigid air, rapidly growing into a crazed roar devoid of any mirth—full of disbelief and despair. However, the cachinnation quickly winded down and the pernicious fog roared into the night; Fluttershy futilely flattened her ears against the deafening proclamation.

Destiny is adamantine on erasing me from history, its steps always behind my back and, perhaps, the time to stop running is nigh. But I refuse to go without laughing last! Yes, that’s a perfect way to spit in the face of my cursed kismet!

With a scream of bitter triumph the shadow dissipated—or, perhaps that howl belonged to the whirlwind of mist and magic encircling the pegasus into the coils of soot sparkling with sinister energy.

The commotion ceased as abruptly as it arose, leaving behind only the flabbergasted mare and her no less befuddled rabbit friend. As Fluttershy looked around, seeking the stranger, she perceived no foreboding presence; needless to say, the churning charnel smoke vanished, too, without a trace.

The only evidence of that encounter—a pile of ash and tattered dark cloth—suddenly seemed dubious, as Fluttershy struggled to comprehend what had just happened. The fatigue both of mind and body could conjure any kind of delusions, those easily supplemented by the morbid environs; speaking of which—some dust and torn ancient cloth clearly belonged to the derelict castle much more than to some unbelievable thing.

She also hadn’t asked about Elizabeak.

Letting a deep resigned sigh, the weary mare faced the reality—lest she wished to go completely crazy or encounter much more tangible dangers of the Everfree, seeking out the chicken had to be given up on.

Salty sorrow dripped from her chin on the ashes being blown away, but Fluttershy quickly steeled herself—mourning the unplanned culling of her poultry would have to wait till return home.

Obviously, travelling through the almost impenetrably dark forest in the direction opposite to that of the prior journey failed to suddenly render it any more navigable, so Fluttershy and Angel promptly lost their way as soon as they egressed the ancient castle’s premises.

Exhausted she might be, Fluttershy nevertheless couldn’t ignore the dreadful quality of the woods, which not only refused to wane, but seemed to gain in strength as the night went on. Stumbling through the darkness, the beleaguered pegasus sorely regretted her lack of ability in the flying department that might have absolved her of trekking through the vehemently resisting thicket; not that she had enough energy left to carry Angel and herself back home.

Fluttershy’s eyes brimmed with tears when she stumbled from the maze of slick dark trunks into a moonlit glade. Partly, because the clear star-storwn sky should give her a chance to hover above the treetops for the merest moment but still enough to assess the gravity of her situation and find a direction to follow; her sordid state was the other reason for the moisture leaving trails on her mud-speckled cheeks—her matted fur bristled with all kinds of sylvan debris stuck to it, oft in quite a painful fashion.

However, her exultation wasn’t meant to last—the mare gasped and the water freely flowed down her face when her gaze fixed on the grim sight in the middle of the clearing.

There, on the bedding of trampled grass, a mangled body lay; blood glistened black under the icy leer of the Moon and stars, rendering once pristine feathers charcoal.

Against her better judgement, Fluttershy limped to the remains of the hen, sniffling and whimpering as the woe and reluctance stretched that relatively small distance into an arduous and eternal march.

Elizabeak had found her demise from the claw and tooth of feral wildlife; much to the pegasus’ sorrow, the poor bird bore no signs of being at least partially eaten—a truly unnecessary and meaningless death she failed to comprehend and accept.

For a heartbeat Fluttershy considered denying the prey to the disrespectful forest, but then her crimson-stained hooves let the cold frame slip back onto the wet earth. Although some cared none for the natural order of things, the body was still for nature to reclaim; she lingered by the carcass, however—Ponyville residents might not appreciate her recalcitrant support of the Everfree’s carnivorous fauna.

Angel softly patted her neck and just as vainly tried to smooth the mess of her mane.

Before any second thoughts could have formed in her mind, the pegasus abruptly turned and all but galloped away from her fallen friend.

A golden blade sliced into Fluttershy’s vision right through her eyelids.

The pegasus cringed away from the cruel Sun’s grace, but the deed couldn’t be undone and she blinked away the bleariness telling her that the lullaby of her tears had guided her into the Dream Realm.

By some miracle or, perhaps, because the unkind fate decided it tortured the miserable mare enough for the night, Fluttershy managed to get back to her cottage without excessive roaming of the perilous woods. Blindly passing by her sympathetic animal comrades, she crashed into the embrace of the bed sheets only to fail to find solace in their softness; the oblivion did take pity on the pegasus… eventually and not without taking a tithe of salt from her eyes.

Therefore, Fluttershy found herself in the nest of dirt-stained cloth and whatever splinters, leaves and the like she had gathered tearing through the Everfree. Needless to say, the sweat of both the exertion and nervousness only added to the filthy state of her bedding and herself.

Climbing from the bed with a groan as her muscles violently protested, she followed a matutinal ritual by heading for the shower, but instantly veered away, led by a much more pressing urge—the memory of the dreadful night pierced her heart with a loss that could never be recovered.

With a massive effort, Fluttershy descended the stairs so vertiginous that morning; stared in dismay at her reflection in the wall mirror as she plodded athwart the room—the grime had infused her mane so potently, a distinct jet streak now blemished her once roseal and frazzled hair.

In a similarly melancholic fashion, the somnolent pegasus made a bee-line to the coop with the singular intent—to be reassured that the savage night had robbed her of but a single compeer.

The number of chickens remained the same—the number she had the previous morning.

Fluttershy did a double take and counted her poultry once more, but the cosy twilight of the miniature house contained the population of dwellers it had had for quite a while, ignoring the events of the erstwhile hours.

The half-awaken state of her mind rendered the task of finding the hen that shouldn’t be there difficult but to Fluttershy’s sheer surprise no impostor had replaced Elizabeak; somewhat worse to wear, the errant bird skulked in the shadows on the furthest corner as if driven there by the guilt of putting her master through the execrable ordeal.

That surprise rapidly festered into qualms tinctured with seeds of disquiet.

Had the body in the forest belonged to some other chicken? Had Fluttershy imagined the corpse just like she had fancied meeting a disturbing stranger at the great ruins? Had Elizabeak actually survived?

“What’s going on?” she whispered, as if dreading to learn the answer.

Shaking from utter disbelief rather than relief, the pegasus jostled through the little army of the seemingly similarly uneasy fowl to bend over Elizabeak and examine her.

Instantly she recoiled—met both by the gruesome wounds the bird still carried and the look of empty lifeless eyes; granted, chicken eyes, in general, had a proclivity to shine with the merest sentience, but the preternaturally alive Elizabeak had an expression ascribed to something that had long passed its mortal coil.

Her mouth mutely opening and closing, Fluttershy affrightedly backpedalled away from the unblinking glassy stare that defied any common sense till her hooves carried her out from the coop and beyond; and they would have continued to do so, were not her rump to bump into something big, warm and that definitely shouldn’t be there.

Whipping around, the pallid mare found her muzzle full of coarse fur reeking of death; glacially slowly raising her gaze—because she had sorrowfully recognised the creature before her already—she met the nonplussed glower of a manticore. In those sharp eyes, bloodlust and hunger churned, maybe a bit of pleasant surprise—the predator had followed a blood trail of a meagre chicken but would break its fast with supple pony flesh.

The eye contact lasted for a heartbeat—the last Fluttershy had, as with a keening whistle the manticore’s stinger sheared the air to find purchase deep in the pegasus’ chest.

The golden blade sliced into Fluttershy’s vision right through her eyelids.

Wincing from the pain—the lurid agony that the Sun had no right to bestow upon the living, she rolled from her surprisingly uncomfortable bed; setting aside that it was reputed to be soft by definition, the reluctance with which her mind clung to the Dream Realm had to warrant her bedding even more hospitality.

Her eyes fluttered open, letting the incandescence flood her world; as the blinding effulgence abated, the pegasus discovered the reason for her discomfort—she awoke on no bed, but a patch of soil slick with sticky moisture. However, that knowledge was instantly ignored as a much more worrying detail of her environs demanded attention by the merit of its grandeur.

Just a pace away a manticore rested, sprawled on the grass.

However, the great beast rested perfectly still in an unmistakably charnel fashion—the astute observation barely stopped the pegasus from instantly fleeing the once islet of animal truce. Even realising herself the absolutely injudicious nature of her action and torn apart by primaeval fear, she, unable to resist the obstinate nature of her clement heart, stretched her hoof to touch the felled creature.

Yet to grow cold, the manticore well-nigh passed for a visitor of Luna’s domain, but it was obvious—it would never dream nor have nightmares; though, one might argue about an apex predator being able to suffer from such.

Whereas the body before Fluttershy radiated warmth, the yellow mare sensed hers turning into ice as a chilling sensation crept into her veins—singular happenings been plagued her life since the last sunset, with each next giving a more distinct impression of them being a concatenation. Death and life flickered around her in a way that contradicted any logic; not that she trusted her mind to comprehend reality as it clearly shewed lack of clarity.

That disturbing conclusion didn’t stop her gaze from wandering, seeking the answer to the question of what had bested the second to none deadly dweller of the Everfree (in the direct offence department, at least).

The mound of bristling fur, voluptuous mane, leathery wings and glistening chitin offered more than enough to witness, if not to quench her thirst for understanding, and Fluttershy almost missed the element that didn’t belong to the grand carcass—a sickly hen that despite its wretched state stood on the top of manticore in a resemblance of triumph, awkward at that.

And as Fluttershy stared at the sinister bird, her inchoate comprehension of what was going on crumbling into dust, the visitor from the Everfree denied Elizabeak her victory; the massive form shuddered, betraying no weakness—displaying the intent of finishing what it had come for.

Shrugging off Elizabeak, the manticore lubberly rose to its column-like paws to tower over the pegasus, staring her down with the piercing look in its malevolent eyes… though, the beast’s expression lacked the appalling fierceness it had had heretofore, allowing a considerably listless quality to overtake its austere features.

The sense of déjà vu splashed freezing water into Fluttershy’s face—she had already experienced such an event, when the manticore… killed her? That made zero sense and the looming inevitability of a single possible outcome from having a hungry predator in one’s vicinity further rendered the situation imponderable.

The time stretched on.

Quiescent like a statue, the manticore stood at ready, patiently waiting for something known only to its feral consciousness with muteness unfit for its nature. That motionless barely imbued Fluttershy with any calm—the continuous advent of her inescapable demise drove her further into a state of panic, rendering her mind incapable of complex and rational thought.

Despite the rarity of such a case, the senseless urge to avoid danger had waxed to a point of being actually productive—the mare, unheralded, bolted past the unmoving beast, shewing speed much greater than she thought of herself possessing. Nor did she fumble with the door upon reaching her cottage, slamming in behind herself merely a heartbeat later.

A few planks of wood didn’t stand a chance of preventing the manticore’s entrance, were it to invite itself into Fluttershy’s abode, but it bestowed upon the pegasus a few precious seconds to ensure her success of escaping a sure death.

Yet, she decided to use that invaluable moment to merely catch her breath.

The mare pressed her hoof to her chest and… it went somewhat deeper than it had any right to, returning stained with glistening crimson.

Though having no degree in veterinary, Fluttershy treated a fair share of animals passing by her dwelling—no thanks to the Everfree Forest—and so she had become acquainted with a vast variety of injuries, harbouring no illusion concerning limits of anatomy and what a body could endure.

The wound inflicted upon her should have been fatal—instantly fatal.

Author's Note

English isn't my native language; though I try my best and use various tools to aid myself, I'm aware that a result is far from perfect. That said, if you notice anything that you think should be fixed—please let me know.

I hope you've enjoyed reading this story so far.
Stay awesome.