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- >You are Fiddlesticks
- >And you SUCK at running.
- >Like, really really fucking suck at it.
- >You're legs are made of sticks, for Leagues sake!
- >Fortunately, you remember some form of spell to increase your speed.
- >You focus your inner magics, and a blue blast of light emanates from you, as you nearly quadruple your speed.
- >The effect wont last long, but any burst of speed is better than no burst of speed.
- >After a short while, you hear a scream in the distance.
- >You recognize the tone of something being terrorized.
- >You relish the moment, savor the sound as it hits your metaphysical ear drums, when you are jolted out of your stupor.
- >That voice sounded famili-
- >”Let me go! I know magi- AUUGH!”
- >Oh hell no.
- >Although the haste spell has worn, you continue running at the same pace, in order to “save” Twilight.
- >You had no real reason to save her, but hey, if you weren't allowed to kill her, why should someone else get to?
- >Besides, she might be able to get you back to the Halls.
- >You stop in a bush, your form hidden perfectly in its leafy foliage.
- >You peek out, and you see him.
- >Warwick.
- >Talk about a fearsome opponent on the Fields of Justice. This werewolf would destroy anything in its way.
- >You have fought him once before, and you were not eager to do it again.
- >Then you notice the significant size difference
- >This werewolf is much MUCH smaller than Warwick.
- >And its fur isn’t the sleek jet black color of your old foe.
- >No, this thing stood perhaps as tall as you when you slouched.
- >And its fur was gray.
- >”Your spells are nuthin against us” the gray dog spat at Twilight, who was being held high in the air by her horn.
- >A new, rather annoying voice, enters the fray.
- >”Yes! Your little magics aren’t gonna do hay against us dogs! We are protected by the gems!”
- >”Yeah, our gemsies will protect us!” a third voice quipped
- >Oh good lord.
- >You've killed geniuses, you've killed elite warriors. You have killed pillagers, and murderers, wraiths, golems, wizards, werewolves, and just about every other adjective you could think of.
- >But you would have never thought you were going to add “mentally retarded dog people” to that list
- >That was definitely a first
- >Today is a day full of firsts for you! Fortunately, there is one common denominator among that list.
- >You have had to kill them.
- >You are good at killing
- >But you are far better at causing fear.
- >And this is a perfect time to show them how good you are at your craft.
- >”You 2 stays heres, and make sure nuffin comes into the den.”
- >”Yes boss” the other 2 haphazardly slap to attention.
- >Oh good lord, this was going to be so easy.
- >Okay, lets evaluate the situation.
- >You want to go into a tiny den full of angry dog people, due to the fact the person who interrogated you will probably be killed by them.
- >And you want to prevent this, why?
- >Because, brain. If I am not allowed to kill her, I'm going to make sure no one else is allowed to either.
- >Oh, that makes sense.
- >I thought so.
- >After your brief internal monologue, you decide to come up with a better plan than just “kill everything that isn't purple”
- >You're new plan is “Kill everything that isn’t a purple pony.”
- >After all, there could be purple retarded dog people in there.
- >The very thought of that makes you laugh out loud.
- >Being the Personification of fear, your laugh is more of a terrifying cackle than a laugh.
- >”Who there?” One of the dogs begins shaking in his non-existent boots. The other lowers a spear toward the bush you are hiding in.
- >”You. Stay.” The spear holding dog barked (literally) at the other.
- >It runs towards your hiding-bush, brandishing the spear wildly.
- >You lay your scythe on the ground, blade up, and as the dog steps in, you tug on the spear.
- >Once he is close enough, you grab the scruff of his neck, and slam him downwards onto the scythe blade.
- >Within a second, your blade is sticking clean through its stomach, slicing through the dogs lower spine with ease.
- > The scythe is no longer a shined steel, but a shined crimson color, as you indulge on the fear emanating from the wounded lycanthrope.
- >You pick the dog back up, forcing him off your blade, and throw him out of the bush, towards the other guard.
- >The dying dog crawls towards its friend and whimpers loudly, its lower legs dragging uselessly behind it.
- >When the healthy dog is close to the dying one, you feel it.
- >The fear.
- >When the crippled dog looks up at its friend, you hear a gentle sob
- >You throw your scythe, impacting the bleeding dogs skull. After a brief twitch, it plays dead.
- >Except for the part where it isn’t acting.
- >You speak loudly from your hiding bush “You are pathetic.”
- >The other dog, holding his dead comrade in its hands, looks up towards the bush.
- >It grabs the sword from its scabbard, and swings blindly at the bush you were hiding in.
- >You had already rolled to a nearby bush, continuing your speech after it stops swinging.
- >”You let your friend die”
- >The dog yelps in delicious fear, as it turns towards the other bush, and begins swinging again.
- >And as before, you roll into another form of cover. “Do not despair though, mutt.”
- >It snarls, baring its rather long and yellow teeth. Apparently mutt was offensive to these things
- >”Your end will be quick and painful, I promise.”
- >The dog runs toward the tree with reckless abandon as you charge up a teleporting spell.
- >When the dog lunges to look behind the tree, you disappear in a cloud of black smoke, a few crows flying away from where you once stood..
- >The dog is utterly stunned, and absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, terrified beyond its simple canine mind.
- >It turns around slowly.
- >As it turns, your eyes meet his.
- >Before it can make a sound, you swing your scythe upwards with ease, slicing through its crotch and exiting through its skull.
- >With a sickening splash, the lycanthropes still beating heart fall upon the ground, resting on a pile of gore that's slick with blood.
- >Both halves of the body fall to the ground with a thud.
- >You know fear. So of course, you know you cant just leave these dismembered canines laying around. >You quickly slice off the head of the first dead dog, and grab a grounded half of the other
- >You approach the hole in the ground they called a den, and drop the head down it.
- >After about 3 seconds you hear a dulled crack as it hits the ground.
- >Wait for it...
- >Wait for it...
- >Ah, there it is. The terrified howls and yelps of many scared dogs.
- >That sound is music to your ears. Your own personal orchestra playing a symphony you have created yourself.
- >You are a damn good composer.
- >Thanks, brain.
- > You use the enchantment on the scythe to shrink it down to a one handed weapon.
- >You jump down the hole.
- >As you descend,, you slide your scythe blade into the wall.
- >When you land, dust flies all around you, and you use this new found concealment to hide in the shadows.
- >When the dust clears, you see at least 15 dogs standing at the entrance, wearing worn, tattered leather armor, and holding crude makeshift weapons
- >After what seemed like an eternity, you let out a loud maniacal laugh.
- >The dogs jump and shiver in fear, but continue to hold their ground.
- >You fall silent and willed your eyes to glow brighter.
- >They are all too terrified to move.
- >This must change. Immediately.
- >You lean forward into the light, smiling wide, exposing your dripping black teeth to them, and calmly inform them:
- >”Your end will be far worse than your friend's was.”
- >You toss the half of the body you dragged with you towards them.
- >With a schlop and a thud, the halved body rolls, its crimson interior displayed towards the dogs.
- >Half the dogs fled down the chamber, howling and yelping in fear.
- >The other half are clearly shaken, but were unmoved.
- >Perhaps its time for one of your famous ultimatums.
- >May they forever live in infamy.
- >”Slay each other, and whoever lives, will survive the nightmares to come” You cackle again, stepping back into the darkness, your eyes fade to black.
- >And you wait.
- >Within seconds, the dogs are fighting among themselves, teeth gnashing, claws slashing, and blood spilling
- >This was working far better than you expected.
- >Within a minute, only one stood, blood and dirt caked onto its fur, a tear running down its eyes, spear broken in half.
- >”I killed my brothers, gem-eyes. Please lets me lives. I'll do anythings!”
- >With grammar like that, you should kill him out of spite, but you said you would let the victor live.
- >You step forward, your form coming into the light fully for the first time.
- >The terrified dog steps backwards, dropping his half a weapon.
- >You approach him, bloody hand-scythe held low, and you are within an inch of his face.
- >You do not fear reaction from him. You control him now. You made him kill, you can surely make him do this next thing.
- >You hold your mouth close to his ear as you hiss.
- >”Run”
- >Damn it
- >Maybe you should have told him to walk briskly instead.
- >Dogs are damn fast, and you are not. Even casting haste on yourself barely helped.
- >The dog turns a corner, bursting through a thin curtain of wool, shouting unintelligibly about blood, murder, and scarecrows.
- >After a few seconds, you reach the end of the hall, and use your scythe to cut through the curtain.
- >Shit.
- >There are at least 25 dogs, if not more. They look far larger than the other dogs, and look well armored compared to the ones you encountered earlier.
- >And the whole group is looking at the stick man who cut their curtain-door hybrid down.
- >You stare at them, poker-face engaged. You are clearly outnumbered, but you have years of battle experience with your scythe.
- >It might take a while, but you can easily kill them all with your-
- >”Help.” a weak voice calls out.
- >Nah.
- >You need to kill fast, and scythe is too slow.
- >Is it that time, brain?
- >It sure is, Fiddle.
- >Murder time FUN TIME!
- >You expand your arms out, channeling some very dark and terrifying magics.
- >Your eyes begin to glow fiercely, bright green orbs floating around you.
- >”The end is near!” You shout.
- >Instantly, you are teleported to the center of the pack, a murderous flock of crows swirling around you.
- >You begin laughing, as you strike down any dogs who are close to you.
- >You form a black cloud around your hand, and throw it at a dog who is attempting to escape. In mid flight, it turns into a very large crow, a worm sticking out of its eye socket, its blackened heart exposed through its ribs.
- >The crow begins striking the dog, blinding it, before it moves onto other dogs.
- >It was over before it truly began.
- >The crows, now slick with gore, are resting on the bodies of the fallen canines, picking at their furred flesh, cawing intermittently.
- >You smile. It's been a while since you have fed the birds.
- >Oh, how you spoil them.
- >You hear the distinct sound of vomiting behind you.
- >You turn, raising your scythe, and striking down in one fluid movement.
- >The lock being severed from the cage, a heaving purple pony is now free.
- >”What... what did * blaaargh*” She cant finish her sentence.
- >You gently pick her up once the dry heaves stop.
- >At first, she is terrified, with good reason
- >You literally waltzed into a room, stared down 20+ dogs, then murdered everything in sight.
- >Well, everything except for the purple pony.
- >You did want to stick to your plan, after all.
- >After a brief second, she stops shivering in fear, and begins to sob.
- >Add this to your list of firsts.
- >What's that, brain?
- >Saving an innocent.
- >For the first time in a long time, you actually feel good about what you did.
- >Not that you regret anything you did in the past.
- >You make it out of the cave, either cutting down any resistance you meet, or manipulating their fear to such an extent that they refuse to leave the fetal position.
- >Twilight's eyes are pressed firm against your chest, blocking the terrible sights from gracing her pupils and thoughts.
- >You flash out of the hole you were in, and notice the sun begin to set.
- >You direct yourself towards the direction of the barn, and head off in that direction in a slow jog.
- >Don't want to jostle the now sleeping pony any more than you ha-
- >Your twig leg gets caught on a vine.
- >Face, meet ground
- >It does not like you.
- >* hrk*
- >You roll off the slightly injured, and now fully awake, unicorn.
- >”Ugh... what happe-Oh sweet Celestia!” She points a hoof at your chest.
- >You look down.
- >There's a huge gash across your chest, along with a small hole a bit higher.
- >Damn, Twilight's horn made that hole in your chest when you accidentally fell on her.
- >Wide slashes were easy to mend together.
- >Tiny holes are another story.
- >You shrug
- >”We need to get you home, fast!”
- >You shrug again, picking yourself up.
- >”How can you just shrug?! You should be dying right now! Bleeding at least!”
- >* stare*
- >”R...right... no blood. I don’t think I'll ever get used to that.” she nervously chuckles
- >“Well,” She evaluates the situation “We are in the middle of the Everfree forest, and its getting dark. This forest is a very dangerous when its dark.”
- >You tap your now 2 handed scythe reassuringly.
- >You begin to walk towards the barn
- >”Oh no you don’t. You aren't walking any further with that wound on your chest”
- >”Watch me” you whisper, as you pass by Twilight.
- >Suddenly, tackle-hug from behind.
- >You feel a sensation familiar to using a flash teleport spell.
- >With a crack, you find yourself in the barn next to Twilight.
- >Then you hear it.
- >A delicious sound, if you do say so yourself.
- >It takes a moment for the terrified screams to die down, but they do.
- >Apparently, a bloodied up scarecrow that is twice your size suddenly appearing in front of you with a large, gore slick scythe in its hand is terrifying.
- >Who would have guessed.
- >Both Kickface and Fluttershy back away from your form, a Twilight in front of you explaining to 2 screaming mares that you saved her life, and that if you were an evil being, you wouldn't have bothered.
- >Do you bother telling them the reason?
- >You may be a scarecrow, but you do have some form of a brain, contrary to a very popular song stating otherwise.
- >And that brain is shouting at you to not say a damn word to anybody.
- >”So, you saved mah friend?” AppleKick inquired
- >* nod*
- >”Well shoot, I think I may have misjudged yah then.”
- >* stare *
- >”Well... uh... you don’t need to stare at me like that...” she nervously looks at her 2 friends.
- >They shrug, and you kneel down, getting to her eye level.
- >She quivers as you do so, remembering what happened last time you did that.
- >”You kicked me in the head. Multiple times.” you whisper
- >”I...uh...ah....Ah'm...sorry” she looks down slightly, her hat covering her eyes from your view
- >You feel a flash of pain in your chest.
- >Was it the wound that caused that?
- >Wait, you don’t feel pain on the inside of your chest. What could it be?
- >You remember reading one of your dusty tomes about something called “guilt”.
- >Remembering the description of the word, you realize this situation could classify as one where it would be justified to feel “guilt”
- >”Ah'm sorry ah kicked ya. Ya just scared me so bad, that...”
- >You nod and lightly touch her shoulder.
- >You smile without teeth, in an effort to ease the tension
- >Damn your chronically terrifying expression.
- >She winces
- >”I am sorry for scaring you as I did in the past, and just now.” you try to chuckle in a non shit-your-pants-in-pure-horror way.
- >Add this to the list Brain. First time apologizing to something I terrified, and chuckling without killing something immediately after.
- >Noted.
- >”Well, I have to head home” Twilight announces to no one in particular.
- >”Oh no, you can't! You're bleeding so much! You wouldn't even make it off the farm!” an exacerbated yellow pegasus states.
- >”Flutters, don’t worry about me, I only have a a couple scratches. Most of this blood isn't even mine” She nervously laughed, cringing at the though of being covered in someone else's blood. “Beside, Fiddlesticks is wounded.”
- >Fluttershy turned her head, and gasped.
- >”Oh my goodness! We have to get you to a doctor! You're so badly hurt!”
- >* shrug *
- >”Uhm, Flutters, maybe taking him to a doc isn’t the best thang for him. Ah mean, look at him. He's covered in blood and carrying a scythe bigger than us.” She sizes up the scythe as she says this “He ain't exactly a living bleeding thing either, so Ah don't think the doctor'll be able to help.”
- >”Oh.. uhm...well... Mister Fiddlesticks?” Fluttershy looks at you with the most d'aww-tastic eyes you've ever seen.
- >* shrug * “I don’t need a healer for physical wounds. If you have thread and needle, I can sew myself back together. I've done it before.”
- >The yellow pony is taken aback by how casually you mention sewing yourself back together.
- >Applejack grins.
- >”Ah think I have just the place in mind to get you sewed up, Fiddle.”
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