King and I - 7

After having free reign on the palace for your entire stay so far, having two guards drag you to the throne room to meet with the King is startling. The gloves are off now and Sombra isn’t taking any chances. They stand close on both sides, making sure you don’t have any room to maneuver or run.

The corridors are empty again, the ponies having been relegated to their respective quarters for the foreseeable future. You don’t like the silence. You can almost hear the whispers of the workers, gossiping or worrying over the sudden quarantine, news of the earlier bloodbath must have made its rounds already.

The guards don’t seem nervous, not like the others who’d fall head over hoof to help you. They stare ahead, unwilling to pay you any mind. It’s nice to not be treated as the center of attention for once. The throne room doors are as imposing as ever, to other ponies, the masterfully crafted carvings demonstrating another faucet of Sombra’s power. It almost makes you yawn. They lose their effect the third time round. Seeing Sombra stumble earlier has injected you with a sudden boost of confidence.

They follow you all the way down. Sombra sits on his gaudy throne. His full attention is on you. The guards split away and stand at the steps. It’s probably for the bets that you don’t get any closer. He stares at you, you stare back.

He chuckles waving a hoof towards the door, his horn glowing, a large crash echoes throughout the room like a pair of cymbals. You look back and see another row of guards entering the room; behind them, a row of chained pegasi, each with a vibrant coat of colour. They aren’t crystal like all the other ponies. There are seven in total, each following on from the other in a chain gang.

The guards glare menacingly at them. They occasionally throw a punch or kick into the group to keep them in line. Yelps and cries of pain following the discipline. Magic wraps around the shackles, snapping them away from one another and attaching them to a far row of metal rings embedded in the ground. Your earlier thoughts were correct. The rings are used to hold slaves.

You recognize them now; these are the ones who came in through the garden. Sombra claps his hooves and the guards leave, slamming the door behind them. Some of the prisoners flinch and whimper in response.

He descends the steps and comes to stand to your left. “It’s so nice of you gentlecolts to join us tonight. I’m sure you just couldn’t ignore a royal summons?”

With a measured gait he trots to them. He makes eye contact with them, going down the line and staring into their eyes for around five seconds each. Some of them stand firm and refuse to cower, a few begin to shake in a seizure like fashion, chest heaving in panic.
This continues until he reaches the final stallion. His light green fur is stained with blood and bruises, indicating some kind of scuffle. None of the other prisoners seem to be harmed. He has rough light blue hair and a spy glass for a cutie mark. He scowls at Sombra with contempt unlike anything you’ve seen before. “You will not faze me demon. I am righteous in my fury, and convicted in my honor.”

You raise an eyebrow at the almost religious rhetoric, while Sombra laughs with near childlike glee.

“You are a very special stallion.” He begins. In the blink of an eye he strikes, a powerful bolt of magic striking the prisoner at the knee joint, red eyes bellow green smoke as the pressure slowly increases, before snapping the limb like a twig. He screeches in agony as the leg is bent backwards. The loud snap echoes through the hall, some of the other soldiers are nearly hyperventilating.

“Your little goddesses can’t help you here. You are blind to your own ignorance, and shackled not just by me.” Sombra declares. He glares at the others, who avert their gaze to the ceiling or floor. Their resistance has been thoroughly shattered, leaving a group of scared and powerless colts. You don’t dare speak up for them, especially after the brutal display on the angry stallion’s leg.

Sombra turns back to him. He’s on the ground now, cradling the broken pieces of his forearm. His eyes water in agony as he bites back another scream. “I find you amusing; your bravado means little in the face of reality.” He doesn’t speak back, having curled into a furry ball on the ground. “Hide little pony.” Sombra growls. “You’ll all fall in line soon enough.”

Sombra turns to you, the green smoke from his eyes slowly dissipating into the air. “Come over here Rose.” He demands. You reluctantly fall in and stand next to the curled up stallion. He waves a hoof across the entire line of prisoners.

“These are the stallions that broke in through the garden, are they not?”

“I don’t know.” You honestly don’t, all of their coats were the same thanks to the armor.

“Of course you don’t.” He replies condescendingly. “But finding a group of pegasi such as this was an easy task. It’s very rare that their kind comes here, lest it be on the whim of their masters.” Your eyes widen in shock, he just picked out random pegasi for this?
“How do you know?” you contest. “They could be innocent!” You block his view. He’s much taller than you, diminishing the effect of your challenge. You only just reach up to his chest. It doesn’t scare you though. His size is the only real advantage he has. He knows what blood magic can do, even though you don’t. You hope he doesn’t call out your bluff.

“They admitted to it.” He boasts. “A bit of coercion and they were more than happy to fill me on the details of their little plan.” Your stomach plummets as he pushes you aside. “We aren’t here for a trial; we’re here for the punishment.”

“What are you going to do?” A strong magic grip wraps around your barrel, pulling you away from the line. Sombra walks along with you until you are several full paces away from them. For a moment relief spreads across the remaining ponies’ features. It quickly falls as Sombra turns back to them and begins to charge his horn. The green mist returns in force as he aims at the first in the line.

“Firstly.” Sombra declares.  A deep rumble comes from the bowels of the earth. The prisoners shift nervously as the ground shakes beneath them. A few look to each other for comfort but find none in the terrified gazes of one another. It strikes quickly, like a shark. A jet black column of crystal bursts though the floor. The stallion is ripped off his hooves by the force of it and slowly forced down by gravity. He screams, loud. Your ears rings as his body slowly slides further down the long black spike. He is soon drawn silent.

His blood is smeared across the ridged surface. His face is twisted into a horrible expression of anguish and pain. Dead empty eyes stare back at you.

The musky smell of urine fills the air. One of the stallions has pissed himself, his ears droop in embarrassment.  It does little to cover the metallic smell of freshly drawn blood. His comrades are occupied gawking at the slain body of their former comrade in arms. Your body locks up in fear, Sombra just executed somebody.

Sombra’s magic washes over you for an unspecified reason; before he continues on as if nothing is amiss. He sighs as he looks at the fresh corpse. “Throwing away life’s gift to attack innocent ponies. I like to think of this as karma.” He looks to the last stallion, still curled into a ball after his earlier injury. Magic wraps around him, his neck is jerked to face the grinning King. His breath is heavy and his eyes try to escape from the ghastly sight of the dead body.

“Where are your gods now? Do they truly watch over you like they say? Or do they send you to the pits of hell for their own gain?” He berates them. They struggle against the chains, trying desperately to pull them from the ground. He scowls. “Answer me!”
They remain silent.

“Very well.” You look away as another scream of agony bangs against your ear drums. Unlike before the wet sounds of ripping flesh nearly cause you to vomit. Sombra’s magic forces you to look as the second stallion in the line is killed in the same manner. “Who sent you?” He asks the third. Losing his patience he places a hoof under his chin and jerks him upwards. “I’ll ask you again. Who sent you?” He only closes his eyes and looks away.

Slice. Another scream. Bile rises and burns your throat.

Blood begins to pool around his hooves; Sombra looks back to you for a moment, seemingly searching for some kind of reaction. He doesn’t receive much for his efforts. “It’s amusing, these potentially innocent stallions, so resistant to answer my questions, but so afraid of death.”  He places an emphasis on the “potentially innocent”.

“I expected better.” Without even asking a question, another is impaled. You don’t even flinch this time. Your mind is a swirl of emotions, fear, anger, disgust. You can’t focus; you can’t do anything to help. You need to get angry, that’s how you did it before.
“S-stop!” You shout as he sizes up the next stallion. Sombra freezes in place and pivots to face you. He slowly paces up to you. He gets in very close to your face; you feel his warm breath pour over your muzzle.

“What are you going to do to stop me?” His magic snakes around your body once again. It’s a thinly veiled threat, a promise of things to come should you interrupt him. His magic grabs the collar, pulling it taught against the bruises around your neck. You clench your teeth in pain. “I can kill you, within the blink of an eye.” His eyes glow again. Another spike, another body. He didn’t even ask any questions this time. The only one remaining is the injured spy.

Something in your mind snaps.

Your body trembles as a rush of anger seizes your body, more powerful than anything else you’ve felt before. Not even the stallion from yesterday felt the brunt of your true feelings. Sombra sees your silence as a victory, and turns his attention to the only other living soul in the chamber.

Rational discourse slips from your grasp as he charges up his magic once again. You scream, not in pain like them, but in pure anger. Flashes of white blind your vision, your head pounds as an intense pressure builds through your horn. All you have to do, is release it.
With another scream, the protective bubble pops. A blast of red energy erupts from your horn like a volcano. Sombra is already a step ahead. Just before the beam manages to reach him he disappears into a cloud of black smoke, which deftly curves itself around the dangerous energy. The blast completely smashes the wall, revealing the blue sky outside.

Black spots fill your vision as the headache grows worse. You struggle to stay standing as your eyes begin to close, you can’t fall asleep, not now! The smoke gathers, wrapping around his invisible body like a glove, reforming into his physical form. The strength leaves you and you fall to the ground.

“I expected better of you. At least try to hit me.” He scoffs. Two guards enter the room to survey the carnage and fight off the intruders, they’re met by the sight of a blood stained floor and six impaled corpses. “Clean this mess up.” He orders. They quickly back out to retrieve help.

Sombra kneels next to you, cupping your cheeks with both hooves. “You are not in control Rose, I am. Never forget that.” He whispers intensely. You don’t have the power to answer back.

An extra squad of guards enters and quickly set to work removing the bodies, covering them with white sheets. It doesn’t work very well, the gaping chest wounds cause blood to seep through the thin material. You close your eyes as tears slowly begin the trickle down your face.

“Take the green one to the cells. I’m not done with him yet.” You want to scream at him, shout bloody murder, but your body has shut down and isn't waking up. You black out.