My Little Pony: Magic Ripped Away

The sounds of wet munching were all that could be heard. It was a dominating sound. A horrible dominating sound.

It moaned and groaned, its massive, slithering black body pulsating on the floor. It was terribly large, rolls of the disgusting black substance flowing over itself like slime. Its lips smacked together as it let out another one of its horrible groans, its massive body rocking side to side before it leaned down, one of its long, thick tentacles wrapping around something unseen.

A thick, slow ripping sound was heard before a slick pop filled the room followed by a loud thud, and she fell into view. A blue eye was missing, the vibrant sheen in them replaced by a haunting dullness, half her face was mangled, and her beautiful blue and pink mane was tangled and half-pulled out. Her left foreleg was nowhere to be seen, a torn, bloody stump all that remained, whitish-pink bone visible through the mangled red flesh.

Even with her hooves over her mouth, she couldn’t contain the muffled whimper, silently praying that the creature didn’t hear. Thankfully, it didn’t, and she remained unseen beneath the table, the sounds of its slobbering still continuing unfettered. It moved back slightly, more of her body being seen. She was gutted, disemboweled to the fullest, most brutal extent, with only slivers of her bowels remaining inside the dark, torn cavity of her stomach. Her once perfectly maintained and groomed beige coat was matted and covered with both crimson blood and a rancid vile black substance that mixed together. It smelled horrible.

A loud boom outside caught the creature’s attention, dropping what it was eating onto the floor, a clump of unidentifiable red and pink mush. With an almost lazy dull moan that sounded terrifyingly like a pony, it slowly slid out of the room, a loud clatter and shatter being heard as it slithered away. After it was gone, she let out a shaky sigh of relief mixed with the agonizing feeling in her head.

And there was the pain. It was unbearable. Her horn was gone, shattered into bloody shards, and her head pounded like a pony was driving a chisel into her skull. Her kind legs felt weak and shaky, almost unresponsive to her will to stand up, to run away, and her brain swam with confusing swaths of unidentifiable gibberish, the only understandable thing being the emotion behind them. The unmistakable burn and sting of pain, sadness, and grief, a grievous ache that filled her entire body from head to hoof.

She silently prayed that this was all a twisted nightmare, some fabrication, an illusion brought upon her by a bad point. She wanted it to be fake. She didn’t want to accept this reality. She once again looked up at the pony that lay in front of her, hardly recognizable with how mangled she was, but she knew her best, even in this tragedy. Even in this haunting scenario.

Her mouth fell open in a shaky spiel of shaky sobs and whimpers, all of them eventually coalescing into a single word that she could only say, fueling it with as much emotion she could, but it ended up being little more than a fragile whine. “B-B… B-Bon-n-ny…”

It had all happened so fast. There was a sound, a pause, and pain, and after all of that, it appeared and ripped her apart. Her Bonny, her drop of sweetness in this world of unacceptance. And though she wanted to scream as loud as she could, all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and let the tears flow out freely, her mind not obeying her, like a fragment of her being was unavailable, her hind legs remaining unresponsive as though she’d never had them.

Lyra stayed beneath the table, praying for something impossible that would never come.