“Please..”.
She woke up
So did you.
You see your jeans-covered legs lying before you, with a pair of shabby sneakers on the end of them. A horrible taste is tormenting your tongue. If you didn’t know better, you would think that it was hanging inside your stomach for hours.
“Where did you go?”
It’s dark. Not good. You don’t know what’s waiting for you in the other end of the room. You don’t even know where you are. Darkness is unknown, and the unknown is deadly. You put your arms on the old plank floor, and then pull your feet under you. You straighten up really slowly, so the wood won’t creak. Your eyes are already searching for the light switch.
“Please, come back!”
There’s a small ray of sunlight sneaking through a hole on the ceiling, providing just enough light for you to find the small white box on the wall. You take your first step towards it, but almost fall over. Your knees are weak, terribly weak. You are so tired...
“Please, don’t leave me...”
A quiet click and the pour of yellow forces you to squint your eyes. It’s not strong enough to fully blind you. The light bulb hanging from the ceiling is running its last, flickering, blinking. Fortunately, it’s enough to pull the black veil from your surroundings.
“Come out... Please!”
You are in the same place where you fell asleep at four in the dawn. The loft with the ash-gray floor, coal colored walls and livid wooden beams running above you. It’s not overly furnished, there are a few boxes in the corner farthest from you, an old desk on your right, a cabinet next to it, and...
“I’m scared... I beg you, don’t do this to me!”
...the door.
The disgusting, blue plastic door. To your relief, the plank you nailed on it in haste two days ago is still there, keeping the otherwise fragile door sealed.
Two days... If you ever knew you’re going to spend so much time here, you would have prepared better. Your back still aches from the rough sleep on the floor, and even though the fresh awakening soothes it, you know your stomach will soon be in horrible pain again.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
You should go out there... Not. Don’t even think about it. You won’t open that door ever again, that’s for granted. It’s good as it is now: locked, blocked, with no way in... Or out. You’ll rather starve to death, than to see... her.
“Please! Help!”
Her voice is so sweet. So timid. So desperate. It’s calling you. But there’s that unholy curse on it, it makes it so... strange. Why is it so loud? She’s out there-
You turn around in terror, expecting the worst, but only find the ramshackle wall behind you. She’s outside, and you’re inside. She’s outside, you’re inside. In safety. This is the best for you, even if this room becomes your coffin. You couldn’t look her into the eyes. Not after what you’ve done to her.
“I know you’re here. Please, talk to me... I’m scared. It can’t... It can’t be you left me here. You love me, don’t you?”
Last time you were trying to catch some rest; a horrible question took form in your mind...
Who is the real monster? It’s her, since you’re hiding from her. Or are you? What if you’re here so you won’t damage her any further?
The borders are slowly ceasing. Who is hiding from whom? Who needs to be protected? What are you afraid from more, losing your life, or her?
“I miss you...”
...do you even have a life anymore? What if this is hell itself? It’s a suffering worthy for Tartarus. She needs you, and you can’t answer her pleas for help.
You always gladly lent her support. She was so weak alone... A frail little flower. Ever since you knew her, ever since you loved her, you always wished to protect her, to watch over her, and all you asked for in turn was her smile, her love. Such a beautiful bond...
“Please!”
Where did you turn on such a grim path? You never noticed it. Perhaps because the way there didn’t seem so sinister, so dangerous. The worst was hiding on the end of it, low, not showing itself until it could sunk its teeth into both of your throats.
Scream. A lifeless one. Not from her, but you didn’t move either. It’s the stairs’.
She’s coming.
Another scream. Still not hers, she’s not that desperate yet. She’s still hoping, she won’t yell... Not like back then.
Her crying was bitterer; her pleading was tearing into your heart, your nerves. She was screeching your name again and again, like it would soothe her suffering. It was hard enough to listen to it, you were too afraid to watch it. Not even a glimpse. You simply collapsed on the kitchen floor, bellowing along with her. You must have said sorry at least a thousand times.
But you were sure she didn’t forgive you... No, there’s nothing you could do to make it right. You knew it right away, when you finally faced her. When you faced with what they’ve done to her... What she had become. And when you saw her fate, you just fled again. You ran away, she was chasing you. You didn’t know what her intent was. You still don’t. But it can’t be anything nice... Not with those claws.
“Are you in here?”
The door handle is moving. She’s out there. Right in front of the room.
You locked it, and the plank is still holding. She can’t come in. And you won’t go out.
“Please, answer me! Come back, I beg you!”
Even if you want to. To simply open the door, embrace her once again, and whisper into her ear soothingly that “It’s alright.” That there’s “No problem.” To lie to her, spinelessly, cruelly.
“I can’t take it anymore alone! I’m so scared... Please, please come back to me! It hurts so much!”
Hurts.
She’s in pain.
You can’t let her suffer.
You wanted to protect her from pain.
You swore to her, that you’ll shelter her from agony. You promised!
This cannot go on. You hid for too long. You betrayed her for too long, you stabbed her in the back. You ignored her weeping enough.
It’s time to end it.
You don’t care about moving silently anymore, as you step to the old mahogany desk. You pull the only drawer out, and then turn it over the table, pouring out its contents. Your old revolver is among them.
“Is that you I hear? You... You came back! You came for me!”
You wished that you’d never need to use it.
You check if the chambers are full, but your vision suddenly becomes blurry. You rub your eyes with the side of your index finger, so the tears can escape onto your cheeks. You take a sniff into the air. Your nose is getting clogged...
“Please, open the door! I want to see you! Please!”
You turn the weapon in your hand, and start whacking the old rusty nail heads down with its handle. After they broke off, you grab the wooden plank, strain your leg against the door and start pulling. You drop it to the ground, and slowly back up to the desk.
As you pull the hammer back, your blood is slowly becoming cold, your hands start shaking. Your throat is tight with fear. The door slowly opens...
Oh dear god...
There are metal rods framing her whole body. They are running along her limbs, and at the joints, they simply... cut into her flesh. They must be merged to her bones. Judging from how she’s standing on her rear hooves, there are a few pulling her spine. Her front hooves are removed, and are replaced by sharp and grotesque blades. There’s a cartwheel attached to her neck, its spokes are probably meeting around her gullet. Her eyes... those once soft, lovely teal eyes are pitch black now. Under them, dried blood is staining her face.
And the wounds... The gashes didn’t have any point, except for deepening the pain. On her flank, on her legs...
As you study her face horrified, you can only guess how hard she is suffering. But to your surprise, you find a faint smile on her lips... She’s happy for you...
“At last... At last, you’re here... I missed you so much... I love you...”
She takes a step, and her whole body winces from it as the metal frame gives out a loud grating noise. Her face almost twists into a painful grimace, but she’s trying to keep it cheerful.
No.
This won’t continue.
You take your aim... On her heart. At least, you think that her heart is there. If you hit it, then it will be all over quickly. You are going to save her.
You just need to pull the trigger... You must pull it. Pull the trigger. Come on, what is taking so long? Pull that damn trigger!
She takes another step... Her mouth stretches open, tears start flowing onto her dark red face. Before she can make any noise, you are the one who starts screaming.
Scorching heat is starting to swallow your body, your mind, your limbs; you are boiling from the wrath. Your roar loses all of its humanity; you degrade into a feral animal, as you jam your finger.
The sound of the blast cuts your voice short; the kickback pushes the Magnum up in vertical position, covering your victim from your eyes. Your ears are ringing, so you can’t hear her body hitting the ground. But she is dead, that’s for sure. She must have...
“No...”
You lower the .45. She’s sitting. Her front legs are over the hole the bullet made. Blood is pouring from behind them, and a horrible river of pain is running over her face. Even that little happiness died from her expression, she’s pulling her eyebrows together in agony.
“Why... Why did you do this to me? I... love you... Why are you hurting me?”
The shaking is too intense to hold the killing weapon any longer. You simply drop it, as you lower your arms beside you. Only whimpering is coming from your throat, you want to say something.
“I’m sorry...” is all you can force out through the sobbing. That won’t do. She’s staring at you in horror from behind her pink mane, with crimson all over her.
She’s bleeding. If she’s bleeding, she’s still a pony, isn’t she? Then... Maybe there would have been a way to heal her. There was still hope! But you judged too fast. You killed her. You only thought about selfishly protecting her...
You embrace her. Her body is cold already. That goddamn metal collar is pressing against your head. You don’t care. You want to hold her. That’s the least you can do...
Suddenly she moves one of her legs. She removes it from her wound and places the blade on your chest. Before you can say anything, she reaches through you...
White. White hot pain. It’s so powerful, you go blind for a minute, and a metallic taste fills your mouth, causing horrible tingling in your jaw. You can’t even scream. Your whole torso is burning. She embraces you, with one of her front hooves going through your lungs.
“Hush now... It’s alright. It will be all over soon. We can be together... Forever.”
You have to cough, your diaphragm muscles are desperately trying to get the red water out of your windpipe. You are slowly getting sleepier and sleepier...
You are tired.
The last thing you see is the beloved teal in the bottom of the black, empty void.
The last thing you feel is her lips touching yours.
It’s over.
