The Blood Runs Crazy

She cowered in the old kitchen. Before Big Macintosh and Applejack had remodeled it. The polka dots from years of Zap Apple Jam were faintly visible, like purple spots of mold. The light glared viciously at her, hateful and strange.

Her father towered over her. Yelling about something. Always it was about something. His mane scratched the ceiling as she lay at his hooves.

"I'm not about to take second place to a dog! She can stay out in the yard for all I care. This is my house. My family."

Blood danced swished across the floor. It cast a quick nod in her direction as it carried on its merry way.

Now she was in the woods. Running. Monsters were pursuing her. Snarling, growling, their claws and wretched breathing reaching out for her. Grabbing her fur and her hair. Her legs pushed through thick jelly, trying to push herself forward.

She fell. It mounted her. A timber wolf reared above her. It’s wooden jaws creaked open and its tongue spilled out. Long and fat, the tongue swayed before her face like a worm.

Slowly, it lowered toward her, the stiff wooden tongue prodding her cheek. It sought her mouth, pushing forward to claim her body. Drool slid down, thick and hot to cover her.