"Shh!"
A piercing whisper alarmed me, drawing my attention to Anthony, my partner in crime. I blankly stared at him, waiting for my eyes to adjust in the new environment,
"Is he even awake?"
My friend bent over, closely observing the sleeping host; Anthony giggled, "Hardly. Dude, this guy can sleep through World War 3."
I smirked, "Yeah, you're probably right," I waved my hand, carefully stepping over the unsuspecting victim,
"Come on, Ant, do you have the scissors?"
He nodded, pulling out a pair of gleaming white sewing scissors from his sleeping bag.
"Been cuddling them ever since we ate," he sniggered, spinning the utensil around his index finger like a western gunman.
The two of us wandered throughout the birthday-boy's house, eventually creeping our way to the spiraling staircase that would serve as a foyer to our host's bedroom. I glanced back at Anthony, who; hastily pushed me up the stairs, eager to unleash his greatest prank yet. I stopped, gazing down at the sixteen-year old boy,
"I know it's gonna be awesome, but… do we have to cut all of them?"
Anthony paused, looking down at the weapon he'd use to fundamentally maim his best friend's passion. He shrugged,
"Oh, please. You were there when he said it! I can't believe he watches that crap."
I laughed, "Heh, yeah. I-I guess you're right."
A beam of moonlight broke through the dark hallway's dense curtains as the wood floors greeted its trespassers, creaking with each new step. An archaic Victorian ceiling smiled down, carefully watching as the two troublemakers made their way to the last left-sided door. Silent pitters of the gazing critters scattered along the walls, hiding from the something more that created their shadows. The boys briefly glanced toward one another. Anthony placed one hand on Nathan's door, nodding to me for the moment before slowly opening it.
A frosty aura crawled beneath my skin as a swarm of silverfish dispersed under the open door. Flies circled around us, finding a way to escape from the putrid smells found within. Torn walls and shredded pillows mocked us as we entered uninvited; I gagged, protecting my nose from the ghastly odor. To my left was a small black table littered with rusted pens and small knives; I picked one up, staring blankly at the dulled edge. Anthony took a step forward, his foot sinking into the molded carpets; he reached for the light switch. A bright light flickered, flooding the room in its heavenly glow. Bleeding rags hung from the bedside, dripping black ooze to the floor, echoing its sound through corrupting minds of innocent children. Along the right wall was a large window, draping curtains of stained white sheets and shattered glass of an unknown source. Anthony's finger stood out, pointing toward a row of overstuffed plushies lined up on Nathan's bed. I slowly approached the smiling faces; I placed a hand on Anthony's shoulder.
"Is… that what you came for?"
I peered deep into his eyes, watching the horror unfold within him. He did not answer, but instead looked upon the works of a maniacal artist. The bed was worn and ragged; I steadily picked up one of the plushies. It was warm and moist, but most of all, aggressively happy. I squeezed its rust-yellow coat, watching as my fist molded the soft, putty flesh hastily stuffed inside it. A plastic heart-shaped toy lit up in the chest of the Fluttershy doll; I backed away, dropping it in the puddle of black tar. Looking down at his hands, Anthony coughed, watching them bathe in the reddened ale. He fell to his knees with a large bulge emerging from his backside. His gleaming silver scissors arose from his freshly wounded body. A crooked smile glowed in the dark hallway, followed by a sandy voice; it spoke,
"You've met my friends?"
The dolls' hearts illuminated with vibrant, rainbow colors; I staggered back, my left heel sinking into a pinch of liver-zest. Nathan bent down over Anthony's body, quickly tossing aside the pearly-white scissors to dig in with a pair of his own. His shaking hands fumbled about the black table; searching for the right tool, he held up a fine-tipped paring knife and jabbed it into his victim. My heart raced; he continued to mutter under his heaving breaths of anxiety,
"Ooh, you'll do just fine… yesss… just two more... only two more…"
Nathan smiled as he tore through each layer of skin, chanting his demands and checking each piece of newfound skin. His small knife dug deeper and deeper as he gradually separated the fats from the muscles.
"Just two more… it's all I need… I'll be home… then they'll see…"
His fingers massaged each lock of tissue as he placed them upon the carpet beside him. Flies circled around the dead corpse, eager to feed on the fresh new banquet presented before them. Nathan patted the carpet, his eyes flashing lights of desire; he searched for someone.
"I must have them all…"
His arm lunged out to grab a small, thirteen-inch Twilight Sparkle from under his bed, ripping it open as he hastily dumped the stuffing to the floor. Collecting a small sample of Anthony's individual organs, Nathan laughed, watching as each piece slipped between his fingers. My eyes widened as he steadily filled the doll's emptiness with a warm, wet welcome of life. With his left hand, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small, transparent, plastic heart beaded with LEDs. From the floor he crouched upon, Nathan looked up to me, cracking the crusted blood from neck,
"It hurts to love, Peter."
His ragged brown shirt slipped down his back as he leaned closer to the doll. His skin was littered with faults and sickly stitches that lined his abdomen. An array of crudely generated scars revealed where he harvested his flesh. It was a self-sacrifice and he was more than willing. Nathan's face was a powdered pale color that clearly shown through his mad behavior; his knees drenched in the foul fluids of my friend. His eyes were the glinting hope of a lost soul; he knew he was doing wrong, but in the name of passion, he continued to cut. Deeper and deeper, extracting each new organ until Anthony's body was nothing more than a sixteen-year old shell of lost potential.
Nathan wiped his sweating forehead, placing the small heart in the chest of the pony. He coughed, spitting a shot glass's worth of cherry aid; his eyelids started to fall, hiding his yolk-colored eyes.
"J-Just one more touch," he grinned, clutching his stomach and fumbling around for a sewing needle; he gripped Twilight's head tightly, rapidly stitching her spine shut and adding a pleasantly wide smile for the last detail. He stared up at me, who, continued to watch from afar; I couldn't move.
"Just n-need one more… one… more…"
He reached under his bed for the last time, pulling out another plush, Starlight Glimmer. As he rose, his legs began to weaken; his joints began to shake. He raised his right arm to shoulder height, flipping the light switch. The room fell dark, leaving nothing but the glowing hearts of the stitched mares. Twilight laughed; they all laughed. The bright colors invaded the room,
"I took them all, Peter," Nathan murmured, "Everyone."
He stood at the foot of his bed, placing his hands on the glowing sheets. With a quick whip, the blankets fell to the floor, showing off a collection of thirty-some ponies all showing their vibrant hearts to the only two left. Their colors of blue and green reflected off my eyes as I stared at the mutilated mess lying in my old friend's bed.
Centipedes roamed freely within the mares, crawling in and out of their dyed coats with ease. Nathan coughed once more, louder this time,
"Don't y-you see? I wanted them here. I wanted them… to be with me."
His sweating face clang to life as his hands waved in the air, "I wanted Equestria; I want them to be real. Th-Th-They would take me,"
He pointed toward the original four: Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie. Nathan held up Twilight; her cries echoed in my ears,
"Do you hear them?" He laughed, "It's life. It's the love of friendship! They've come for me!"
He placed her beside the rest, reaching into his back pocket to once more pull out a small, plastic heart. He waved it in my face; I could smell the bloodstained carcasses he devoured days before. His parents, his family, and my friends all lie embedded in the walls, watching from the windows as he held on to that special passion that drove him further from society.
"One more is all I need."