Wicked Bliss

Rainbow Dash lapsed out of it sooner this time, by the evening. For the first time the Master was bringing in furniture. He took in a pair of old wooden chairs and with a bit of effort a small, foldable oak table. He opened it up and propped the sides in place. Then he laid out the chairs, one on each side of it, and left the room for a moment, returning with a bouquet of yellow roses in a blue vase.

‘A candle?’ he said, stroking his chin. Without waiting for a response he left again and came back with a box of tea lights, took out a couple, and placed them on the ends, framing the flowers. He fiddled with his belt and emerged with a lighter, clicked it on, and lit the candles in a couple of tries. Then he left once more and returned with a box of chocolates and what looked like a bottle of fancy wine but was actually just sparkling juice. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked her.

‘OK,’ was the reply. Her voice had gone, so it came out as a whisper.

‘Good. No aches or pains?’

Rainbow Dash looked at the table and chairs. ‘I could stretch my legs,’ she murmured.

‘I was about to suggest the same thing. Here.’

He stepped over to her and undid the knots and belts. She landed on her hooves this time and keeled forward to catch herself on her forelegs. She wobbled when they hit the floor, but she managed to stand unaided. The Master nodded, mouth curling into his usual smile. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Sit down.’

He ushered her to the nearest chair and pulled it out for her. Rainbow Dash seemed more willing to stand, as though trying to remember how it felt, but after a moment she shuffled toward it and fell to sit rather gracelessly, blinking at the candles.

‘Let’s make the mood proper, shall we?’ said the Master happily. He flicked off the light. The room grew surprisingly dark, lit only by the small, flickering wicks. Rainbow Dash watched him pull out the chair opposite her with a look of illness on her face. The Master made as though to sit then sighed and shook his head. ‘The glasses,’ he said. ‘One moment.’

He swept to his hooves and swung open the door. As he cantered up the stairs, Rainbow Dash eyed the landing beyond. It was dingy and carpeted with the stopper on the floor and the start of a staircase beyond. She was glancing at the door with an odd expression on her face, simultaneously anxious and apprehensive, glancing at the trolley, also on the landing and still with its bits and pieces, as though she knew he was daring her, challenging her to make a move, waiting out of sight to punish her. She stayed put, and when he returned and saw that she hadn’t moved, his smile deepened as it so often did when he saw she was vulnerable. He set down a pair of tall, patterned glasses.

‘Now let’s have a drink together,’ he announced. ‘Here.’

He filled one glass with a heavy pour, nearly all the way up, and passed it to her. She accepted it mutely, placing it shakily in front of herself on the table. He poured a smaller portion for himself and raised it. ‘To your health,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘You’re looking better already.’

That was true. Her face, just about visible in the gloom, had just started to heal, scabs and scars replacing sores and wounds. The singeing to her fur didn’t seem as brutal as it had done when she’d first sustained it, but then perhaps that was due to the effects of the drug he’d administered, keeping the pain at bay, which she looked better for. Her hoof twitched, but she didn’t move to pick up the glass. He stared at her expectantly. She blinked then raised it to her lips.

‘I’ve got some chocolates.’ The Master whipped off the lid. It was a selection box. He offered her the tray, and she gulped her drink hastily and coughed. ‘Relax!’ he said, chuckling. ‘Take your time.’

She took one and bit into it without pleasure. He was watching her as though for a verdict. She gave him a blank look back, chewing as though she wasn’t aware of it. He sniggered but moved on, taking another sip of juice and hovering over the box himself. He read the lid, found a chocolate he liked the look of, wriggled it out of its spot in the tray, and popped it into his mouth. ‘Mm,’ he grunted, nodding appreciatively. ‘Good, aren’t they? Aren’t they?’

‘Yes,’ whispered Rainbow Dash.

‘You see? We can get along.’

She finished chewing, swallowed, then nodded. He smiled at that a little suspiciously. ‘So Rainbow Dash,’ he said, suddenly businesslike. ‘Tell me about yourself.’

She seemed to take an awful lot of time to ponder, excusing herself with rather exaggerated sips of juice. But the Master was in no rush, picking another couple of chocolates from the box and pouring himself a little more drink. ‘I like to fly,’ she breathed eventually. He waved this away impatiently.

‘Oh, come now,’ he said. ‘I’m not interested in those kinds of answers. I want some passion, some insight. I know you like flying. You’re a derby-winner for goodness’ sake.’ She looked surprised. He read it in her face and said, grinning, ‘Yes, there’s rather a lot of reading about you. They’re printing it, you see. Your little disappearance. “Search for missing Wonderbolt” and all that,’ he quoted. ‘“Princess Twilight Sparkle’s personal plea.” Now there’s a pony I’d like to meet. You couldn’t introduce me, could you?’ He chuckled. ‘Go on. Tell me something interesting.’

‘What’s “interesting?”’ she wheezed.

‘Well, I’ll give you an example. Here’s something interesting about me. Torture’s so much fun, I think, because it teaches you a lot about yourself, shows you who you truly are deep inside—like holding a mirror up to your soul. What have I learned, you might ask? That I’m a neurotic type at the end of the day. Everything has to be thorough, planned, anticipated. I can’t do things spontaneously, not really. They don’t bring me enough joy. But when you put into action a design, a collection of fleshed-out intentions, of predictions about the world … and if and when they come true … well … I can’t tell you how rewarding that is. It’s living the fantasy, and you’ve got to live it to appreciate it truly. To understand.’

Rainbow Dash listened deadpan to this monologue, no sign of a reaction at all, no sign that she’d heard or even understood it. ‘So,’ said the Master more loudly, ‘tell me something interesting about yourself.’

She set down her glass and turned her eyes on his. It was the first time she’d properly looked him in the eye since the cattle prod. He acknowledged the moment, his eyes, crinkled into a smile, against hers, dull and glazed. ‘I think … that ponies get what they deserve,’ she wheezed. The Master’s brow went up as though he was impressed. He snorted and nodded.

‘Well! I didn’t expect to hear that today! Very interesting. Elaborate. Why do you think that?’

‘I would have thought you’d know,’ she breathed, and it was just as well he misunderstood her because he laughed in his snickers.

‘Quite. But you don’t truly think I’d believe you just because you said so. I told you it was the way of the world, and you defied me. Now you agree after only a day and a day of rest, I might add. Why the change of heart?’ Rainbow Dash did not reply. The Master’s lip curled. ‘So you were wrong, you admit, when you told me I was scum?’ he prompted.

‘When?’

‘When I was taking the filly. You didn’t look as though you believed what you just said, hmm? Accosting me. Attacking me. Trash, you called me.’ He smirked, but his eyes were hard. ‘You weren’t happy allowing ponies to get what they deserve back then.’

Rainbow Dash frowned and looked at him as though to make sure he wasn’t messing with her. ‘I was doing the right thing,’ she breathed eventually.

‘No,’ he said with a satisfied smirk. ‘You were playing the hero. I think that’s you all over. How do I know? The evidence is in front of me. You’re here because you couldn’t keep your stupid snout out of other ponies’ business. Because it would have made things better for you to “help” a pony. Except it didn’t. It backfired, and that’s justice for you.’ He grinned at her, leaned forward in his chair so that he could catch her eye. ‘You’re a selfish shit. It’s OK. I am too. We all are. It just amuses me when ponies pretend to have a higher motive. It’s all a front for the real stuff. Greed, glory. All the usual things. I’ve never been fascinated by glory, me. No, I’ve always done things my own way. At heart I think that what I’ve always wanted,’ he went on, ‘is to be left in peace. But that wish was never granted. Why would it be? Why was I so arrogant to expect it ever could be? So instead here I am, being what I must be. Not what I wanted to be, no, but what I choose to be in light of everything. Life can be very strange. But might makes right, yes? The one rule, golden and true, that you can observe in everything. The tallest plant catches the sun. The earliest bird catches the worm.’ He snorted. ‘Depressing? Realistic? What do you think?’

Rainbow Dash was quiet until his silence prompted her answer. ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured.

‘No, neither do I,’ he said. ‘It’s a waste of time attempting to valence things. To try to put a morality on them. They are as they are. We do as we do.’

‘Can I go to the toilet?’ asked Rainbow Dash abruptly.

‘The bucket’s there.’

‘I mean … properly.’

The Master set down his glass. He seemed to consider for a while. Then he nodded.

For the first time she left the room. It took her a while, and crossing the threshold seemed to elicit a bout of wobbly legs. The stairs were hard too. She could only climb them with his help. He pulled her weight over his shoulders and eased her one step at a time all the way to the upper landing. She was sweating again, and winces of pain had come back. The effects of her temporary reprieve were wearing off.

He took her up a second flight. This one they managed better. The bathroom was small and rudimentary with a peeling wall, an old-fashioned hot-and-cold-tap sink, and a toilet with a broken seat. He helped her to sit. She cleared her throat, looked him in the eyes again, and breathed, ‘Could I have privacy?’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said graciously as though he would never have dreamed to inconvenience her. He stepped out of the tiny room and smiled as she leaned with a struggle to push more or less closed the door. He listened to the sound of her peeing with a small smile still etched on his face and snickered to himself as she washed in the sink. The door opened after a few minutes, and she emerged, a little shaky, a little sweaty-faced but otherwise OK and capable of standing on her own four hooves. He nodded.

‘I think we can dump the gag,’ he said. ‘And you can sleep on the couch from now on too.’ She blinked then nodded. He smiled. ‘Come. Let’s play a game.’ Her bearing changed rapidly at the word, and he laughed and shook his head and patted her affectionately on the flank. ‘No, no, I meant Scrabble, you see?’

He laughed again and helped her down the stairs. The sitting room had only two windows, both very small, in the style of an old cottage, each with a cross of metal in the centre. A large, old door, the main one, led straight into it without an entryway or corridor. Perhaps it was this particular feature that spurred Rainbow Dash into the attempt. She pulled away from him with far more force than she’d been letting on and stumbled toward it desperately, hooves reaching for the handle, but she missed the door by a mile. She crashed instead into the sofa by the smaller window with a breathy squawk. The Master had tripped her the second she’d tried. He was chuckling softly, shaking his head but still smiling his awful smile.

‘You’re so disappointingly predictable,’ he said quietly, watching her struggle to stand. He grabbed her with sudden force, grinding his teeth together, glaring at her as though ready to kill. He shook her hard again and again. She shrank into herself, jolting cries issuing from her body as she was whipped back and forth. ‘Your life as it was is over!’ he bellowed.

He threw her down, back onto the floor. He kicked her, and she coughed and spluttered, bloody drool falling onto the dusty carpet. ‘How many times do you have to be told?’ he thundered. ‘What more do I have to do to get it through your head? Are you a lost cause?’ he asked, raising his hooves. ‘Is that what you’re telling me? In which case shall I just tie you up and leave you to die? Do you want me to do that?’

‘N—n … n—no …’ She could barely form the word.

‘When I told you that I was done hurting you, I meant it. But still you insist on defying me.’ He sighed, full of self-pity. ‘When the subject defies the emperor,’ he continued, ‘she is punished. But I am merciful.’

He reached for his belt. The dose had already been prepared. He pulled Rainbow Dash up off the floor and laid her, sprawled, on the sofa. He bent over her and gave it to her. ‘Let it never be said that I don’t have a heart,’ he finished with an air of injured pride.

‘Th—thang y—you …’ she spluttered, eyes rolling back into heaven.