The Mystery of the Iron Bird Festival

In just fifteen minutes, the winged pony was able to convince Kramarenko, the one who had seen the old woman with the scythe, of his inoffensiveness. He wasn't going to believe it, but the fate of starving to death didn't appeal to him either.

Having risen from the ground, the pilot followed the flyer in a direction known only to her. And so two beings walked, dissimilar and not understanding each other, until an old, but not yet dilapidated, hut appeared.

Following the pegasus into the house, the pilot was surprised to look at the interior, if that's what you can call old carved furniture. The cracked boards creaked under his feet, forcing the man to tread more carefully. Hearing the flapping of wings, he went into another room, where the hostess was already laying out the table. Bread, vegetables and even wine were set for the foreign guest.

Turning at the footsteps, Pegasus with a slight smile took out a silk rug and carefully placed it in front of Kramarenko. Regarding this as a sign of an invitation to the table, the downed pilot sat down to eat. Once again awakened by the food, the stomach happily rumbled.

Even the fact that he was not understood did not stop him from thanking the pony:

"Thank you, hostess, for your so generous reception."

And after a moment of confusion, he tipped the wine into himself. And the wine was good, strong. Snacking on fresh bread and vegetable stew, the second cup of ruby wine went inside. After which, he no longer touched the newly filled cup. It became clear from the slightly faded smile of the pegasus that this upset her a little, but the man categorically refused to get drunk.

Soon, the plate was empty. And the pilot also gratefully stood up and bowed, saying kind words to the hostess.

Glancing at his wristwatch, he was going to go to a nearby town or village in the evening chill. Squatting down, the pilot tried to find out about the nearest settlement. To which the pegasus reared up and violently shook her head. Expressing his silent question with a look, Kramarenko once again pointed out the window, where a quiet and cool evening gives way to the sun. But the pony shakes his head even harder and mumbles something excitedly in response.

It can be seen that there are worse dangers here than simple predators. the man rightly decided.

Seeing that the pilot is no longer rushing out of the house, pegasus calms down. Gently tugging on the sleeve of her tunic, as if calling, pony resolutely led Kramarenko into one of the rooms.

The decoration of the room was solid, if not rich. A large bed, which in some places was bound with silver; a carved wardrobe and table; and even a gilded, with precious stones, mirror, almost full-length human. There were no windows here, but they were completely replaced by candlesticks, standing wherever possible.

Turning to the frozen pilot, pegasus patted the feather bed with her wing, inviting the traveler to rest. With the words "Why not", Kramarenko lay down in a soft bed without undressing. Smiling radiantly at last, the pony left the room, giving the person the opportunity to sleep. But before falling asleep, the pilot took out a pistol from his holster and put it under his pillow. Maybe there was no reason for this, but paranoid thoughts yes. It took a little time for the tired Kramarenko to fall asleep in warmth and comfort.

***

In the night field, with a full moon, a dozen unknown men in raincoats were sneaking around. Two large figures, walking ahead of the whole group, stood out in particular. Soon they came out to the guarded perimeter. There are five guards ahead, frankly idling. One wave of a hoof, and part of the squad pulls out air guns. The rest begin their rounds from both sides, slowly taking the lazy guards in their pincers.

It took only a few minutes for everything, and now the unknown in raincoats are ready to attack. The silence was broken by the whistling of darts, and then the sounds of scuffling. Now it remains to remove the faithful dogs of Twilight — the Harmony squad. There were strange devices in the hooves of the attackers. A few quick movements, and they begin to emit barely visible smoke.

Soon this gas reached the squad, most of whom were sleeping peacefully. Two patrollers sitting by a small fire were quietly whispering about something. Not noticing that they were surrounded by a small fog, the elite began to nod off, and then completely disconnected.

The path to the remains of the Iron Bird was clear! No longer afraid of being noticed, ponies in raincoats began to carefully collect the "bones" of the Bird.

When everything was collected, down to the last screw, they also disappeared into the yellow field before sunrise.

***

A thunderstorm rumbled somewhere, wheat ears rustled. From such a very strong smell of memories of childhood. My thoughts were confused and did not allow me to fall asleep again. I wanted to go out into the raging wind, spread my arms and feel the life running through my veins.

Throwing back the remnants of sleep, the man got up from the soft bed. After a little thought, I took the gun. Walking as quietly as possible on the creaking boards, Kramarenko moved towards the exit. Already towards the end of the journey, the pilot noticed a very strange, gurgling sound that did not fit into the overall picture. After listening a little, it became clear what was coming from the second room, the hostess's room.

You never know what she has there. It's better not to go anywhere once again. the man thought and then walked to the door.

All that remained was to pull the door handle, when suddenly sounds much more terrifying than a simple gurgling began to be heard in the pony's room. Kramarenko stopped and looked again at where the devils seemed to be raging. Taking out the TT, the downed pilot secretly looked into the room of a beautiful pegasus. Even before my eyes could focus, a strong smell of rot hit my nose. But even the eyes, when they saw, could not give an answer.

What used to be a beautiful pony, a sleeping dying fighter pilot, has become a piece of a half-rotted corpse. One wing was supported by blackened tendons, and the other was not there at all. There were pustules and black bumps on the body in places. The front legs seemed still intact, unlike the hind legs, whose skin was already gradually tearing, exposing the stinking flesh. From the stench and stench, the captain caught his breath, and a chill ran down his back.

Unexpectedly, a floorboard creaked at the wrong time under Kramarenko. Despite the fact that the sound was not loud, the monster abruptly turned its head towards the pilot. Something vaguely resembling the face of a pony was now looking at the man. The remnants of the wool, which had once been a mane, were tangled together and now resembled tangles, and sunken glass eyes looked indifferently at Kramarenko, frozen with horror.

A little away from what he saw, the pilot pointed the muzzle of a pistol at this half-dead pony. What was a pegasus took a step towards the man. To which Kramarenko squeezed the trigger. A shot rang out, and the bullet cracked the pony's skull. Another bullet finished off the wheezing creature. Now no one else will be able to see the beautiful pegasus.

A barely noticeable smoke was pouring out of the trunk. Somewhere outside the window, a dry thunderstorm rumbled, and Kramarenko was still standing on the half-rotted floor, waiting for anything and anyone. But apart from the creaking in the cracks and the howling wind, no one else broke the silence.