All said mutants belong to Marvel Comics, not me.
Underneath the angry eye of the sun, the carnival was transformed into a shimmering mirage or so it would appear to an exhausted traveler, journeying across the vast desert wasteland in which it sparkled enticingly, like a jewel in the rough. Yet it did in fact exist, with all of the wonderful sights and sounds that a carnival is composed of, including bustling crowds, shrieking children, and the overwhelming scent of buttered popcorn and caramel candy. Amidst all of this chaos and turmoil, stood a young girl. She was very slender and pretty, not unlike a young doe, with her long brown hair tied back with a ribbon and her luminous brown eyes taking in her surrounding. At her side, stood a young boy around her age, which was about fourteen or fifteen. He possessed long dark curls and shrewd dark eyes that complimented his mischievous grin perfectly. He nudged the young girl and gestured toward one of the carnival's gutwrenching rollercoasters, which was filled with screaming occupants.
"How about that one, katzchen?" he asked.
"I told you, Kurt," she replied crossly. "I don't like rollercoasters."
Kurt frowned, for he was a redoubtable daredevil and loved nothing more than to race down the coaster tracks at a breakneck speed. He simply couldn't understand why his friend, Kitty, didn't enjoy it as well. He took an enormous bite out of the cotton candy he clutched in his hand and began to gesticulate wildly with his arms.
"Bu' coasters are great fun, Kitty," he protested around a mouthful of the soft fluffy substance. He swallowed quickly and explained. "The speed is fantastic."
"I told you," Kitty said firmly. "I'm not going."
Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed in a long-suffering sort of way. "Very well," he said. "Is there any ride in this godforsaken place that you want to go on?"
"How about that one?" she exclaimed, pointing toward a nearby hill. Resting upon its crest was a beautiful carousel. "A carousel," Kitty cooed with delight. "That looks like fun."
"No, fraulein," Kurt groaned. "Anything but that."
But Kitty wasn't listening to her friend's protests. She grabbed Kurt by the wrist and proceeded to drag him up the hill, to where the carousel awaited them. As they approached, the two caught sight of an old stooped man sitting nearby. He was a frail little man with snow-white hair and a pair of enormous spectacles that made his eyes appear larger than they actually were. He rested beside the white picket fence enclosing the carousel, tossing cards into an upturned hat. As the teenagers approached, he gave them a warm grandfatherly smile. "Good afternoon," he greeted them politely.
"Guten tag," Kurt replied, glancing around uneasily. Usually, carousels were swarming with children, yet there was not a child in sight. In fact, he and Kitty seemed to be quite alone. "Slow day?" he asked the elderly gentleman.
"Yes, I suppose you could say that," he chuckled good-naturedly. "So you youngsters have come to see my mares, is that correct?"
Kitty gazed at the lovely horses resting within the carousel. There were roans, palominos, sorrels, and pintos, each of them handcrafted and breathtakingly beautiful, adorned with golden halters, magnificent saddles trimmed with silver, and fluttering ribbons woven into their silken manes.
"Mares? Oh- you mean they're all girls?" the brown-haired girl asked.
"Yep," the old man replied, stroking the nose of a gorgeous paint mare standing beside him. "Not a stallion among 'em."
The teenagers exchanged glances behind the old man's back as he murmured softly to a sleek chestnut mare, both of them thinking him quite eccentric.
"Well," he said, opening the gate and ushering Kurt and Kitty inside. "You two had better find you a mount, the music's about to start."
The two friends wove their way gingerly through the brigade of horses, each attached to the floor and ceiling of the carousel by a stainless steel pole. Kitty selected a lovely palomino wreathed in wildflowers as Kurt chose a fierce-looking jet-black mare with shark eyes and a dragon-shaped pendant resting upon her powerful chest. As Kurt was chivalrously boosting Kitty onto the palomino, the old man's wheezy voice crackled over the small intercom fixed on the wall nearby.
"Attention," he declared importantly. "Attention ladies and gentlemen, the ride is about to begin. Please keep hands and feet within the carousel at all times and do not exit the ride until it has come to a complete stop. That is all," he said pleasantly. "Have fun and enjoy the rest of your day!"
Soft music drifted from the intercom as the carousel slowly began to turn. The mares began to bob gently up and down as the carousel's progression grew faster and faster. Kitty's head began to spin as the carnival around her melted into a confusing blur. The soft pleasant music became harsh and eerie as the carousel revolved faster still.
"Katzchen!" Kurt cried. Kitty glanced nervously over her shoulder at the boy, for both teenagers could tell that something had gone terribly wrong. Suddenly, Kitty noticed a change coming upon her palomino. The unyielding polished wood beneath her was giving way to warm flesh and blood. The mare's opaque blue eyes blazed with fury as Kitty felt her fingers twist into the palomino's golden locks. With a hideous scream, the mare broke free of the carousel and galloped toward the fairgrounds, rearing and thrashing at the sky with her sharp hooves, attempting to rid herself of the young girl that clung to her back like a burr.
"Fraulein!" Kurt roared. Kitty stole a quick glance at her friend. The coal-black mare on which he rode was in hot pursuit, bucking and rearing just as furiously as her palomino. She admired the way Kurt gripped the mare's mane and leaned forward, flattening himself on her neck.
"Whatever you do, don't let go of her mane!" he called to the young girl as the shark-eyed mare came even with Kitty's palomino, yet his words were lost in the deafening squeal coming from the rear of the two horses. The two peered anxiously over their shoulders as the mares' sisters came thundering up the path, murder on their minds.
"Kitty, take my hand!" the boy called, groping for Kitty's delicate fingers. The girl stretched her arm toward him. If she could just reach Kurt's outstretched hand, he could teleport them to safety, but the palomino swerved away from the coal-black mare as if sensing the teenagers' intentions. The mares pounded through the fairgrounds, past popcorn and lemonade stands, crowds parting like a sea of humanity to allow the wild-eyed horses to pass. A magnificent red sorrel slammed into Kitty's palomino, sending the girl tumbling to the ground. The acrid scent of human flesh filled the mares' nostrils, driving them into a frenzy. Kitty struggled to her feet, but was knocked flat as a bluish-gray roan reared and shoved her back down. Kurt's eyes widened in terror; Kitty was going to be trampled beneath the frantically churning legs and pawing hooves. He leapt from the back of the shark-eyed mare and landed nimbly beside the brown-haired girl. Wrapping his arms around her, the teenagers vanished in a cloud of smoke. Yet the mares followed the children's scent to the nearby Hall of Mirrors, where the two crouched in the darkness beneath the porch.
"Are you alright?" Kurt inquired as he gently poked and prodded the young girl, searching her for broken ribs. The two huddled in the gloom, listening to the furious cries of the mares standing outside in the brilliant sunshine.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Kitty gasped. The friends jumped as a shriek pierced the air; Kurt's coal-black mare snorted and pawed at the dusty ground, attempting to route the children from their hiding place.
"So what now?" Kurt whispered.
"Have you ever heard of the Mares of Diomedes?" she asked.
"Meine liebe," Kurt sighed. "This is no time for fairy tales."
"Anyway," she said, pretending as though she hadn't heard. "It's an old legend. See, once there was this king named Diomedes who fed his horses human flesh to make them really fierce. But one day, this guy named Hercules came along and fed Diomedes to the horses instead. This broke the curse put on the horses, making them really sweet and gentle."
"So basically what you're saying," Kurt concluded. "Is that the only way to stop these horses from killing us is for them to eat their master."
"I think so," Kitty replied doubtfully.
But whom did these horses answer to? Suddenly, Kurt remembered the old man sitting by the white picket fence. So, you youngsters have come to see my mares, is that correct?
"Mein Gott," he cried. "That's it!"
"What's what?" Kitty questioned.
"The old man, katzchen," Kurt exclaimed, seizing his friend by the shoulders. "That's why there were no children around the carousel. The old man fed them all to his horses."
"And he had the same in store for us," she replied angrily.
"Not today," Kurt said confidently. "Listen fraulein, I'll turn that big black mare and the others will follow her, she's the leader. I'll drive them toward the old man. Once they catch wind of him, they won't care if he's their master," he added darkly. "They're much too hungry."
"Right," Kitty nodded solemnly. "But I'm coming with you. It's too dangerous to do alone."
Kurt shook his head, but Kitty was staring resolutely at him with her big brown eyes. "Very well," he conceded. "If you insist. Are you ready, then," he said eagerly, taking her hand.
"I guess so," she replied nervously.
A cloud of smoke erupted in the air as the teenagers vanished from beneath the Hall of Mirrors and found themselves clinging for dear life to the fierce black mare. Kitty wrapped her arms around Kurt's waist as the boy took hold of the mare's ebony mane and jerked it forcefully to the right. As he had anticipated, she began racing in the desired direction, up the hill and toward the carousel with the rest of the mares in tow. As the herd galloped closer, the two children saw the old man rise from his seat by the picket fence as quickly as his rheumatism would allow.
"Halt!" he shouted furiously to his mares. "Halt, I say! You can't destroy me, for I am your master! The children, they are the real enemy. Kill them!"
But the mares were deaf to the old man's cries. With a bloodcurdling scream, the coal-black mare charged toward him, followed by her many sisters. The old man's attempts at escape were shattered as the mares closed in around him, partaking in the hideous orgy of blood.
"Mercy!" he cried desperately, glancing at the teenagers as his voice was drowned out by the shrieks of his mares. "Please have mercy!"
"The same mercy you had on the children?" Kurt snarled as he and Kitty slipped from the back of the shark-eyed mare. "Come, mein freund. Don't insult our intelligence."
The mares began to scatter as the two friends edged closer to see what was left of the old man. To their utter astonishment, the horses had left nothing but dry bones in their wake. They glanced uneasily at the black mare, which nickered in a friendly sort of way and trotted toward the children.
"Do you think the curse is broken?" Kurt muttered to Kitty as the mare came closer. As if in answer, the black mare shoved her nose affectionately into his chest.
"I think it has," the brown-haired girl giggled as a curious dun mare gave her a friendly nip.
The teenagers led the docile mares to a small pond nearby, where children were milling around racing remote control boats on the water. The two sprawled on the grassy bank as the horses drank. A small girl approached the bluish-gray roan and both friends smiled as the mare allowed the girl to stroke her slender nose. Other children began to crowd around the gentle mares, patting their soft flanks and rubbing their foreheads.
"I guess we'll never have to worry about kids around those horses," Kitty said.
"Ja," Kurt agreed. "It's hard to believe that only a few hours ago they wanted to kill us."
"Oh yeah, I forgot to ask you," she said, suddenly remembering something important. "Where did you learn to ride like that? You were amazing."
"The Munich circus, of course," he replied proudly, plucking a blade of grass and chewing on its juicy stem. "Didn't I ever tell you? I was one of their star horse performers."
"But seriously," Kitty said, turning onto her side so that her nose was mere inches from Kurt's. In fact, she was so close he could count the freckles dusting her face. "Thanks for saving me, that was really brave." She swiftly kissed him on cheek, brushing her lips against the soft fur that covered his skin, usually so deftly hidden by the image iducer strapped to his wrist. Blushing furiously, Kitty walked to the edge of the pond and buried her face in the silken mane of her lovely palomino. Kurt still lay on the bank gazing incredulously after the girl, his hand plastered to his cheek. The coal-black mare cantered up to where he rested and nudged his shoulder.
"Dragon," he whispered, patting her neck absently. "I think she's coming around."