0-0-0-0-0

I don't know how long I stood at that kitchen sink, trying to scrub off all the blood.

When that didn't quite work, I tried my hoof at the shower. If I was going to break in to somepony's house to murder them, then I didn't think that using the shower was going to be much worse. There was a little bathroom down one of the halls, and I clambered into the shower numbly. It took me nearly half a minute just to get the water going, I was still shaking so badly. It wasn't even immediately obvious to me that I was going to get the bandages wet, and it took even longer to peel them off and drop the bloody things into the sink.

Instead of going straight for the warm water, I flipped the tap over to cold and let a stream of icy water pour over me, trying to force myself back to reality. The bizarre dual sensations of elation at memories returning and my despicable actions left me jarred, feeling like I wasn't real, or that it was all happening to somepony else.

When I had reached my limit and couldn't take the cold water anymore, I finally twisted on the hot water and let the nearly scalding wash over my skin. I let it sink deep into me, washing away the grime and… other unpleasantness. Unfortunately, the cuts stung pretty badly, but I managed to ignore it long enough to take the shower. I wanted to cry, but I just don't think that I could anymore. Like I was drained, too empty to feel anything other than disgust and numb shock.

I think it was the first time that I was really relaxed since ever coming to Ponyville. One of the few times that I wasn't shaking in fear, and it was right after I had committed an atrocity against nature.

I moaned into my hooves, the hot water streaming down my face and making me squeeze my eyes shut as I sank to the shower floor in misery and exhaustion. I was abominable, I was a freak.

I could tell myself that I didn't mean to do it all I wanted, it wouldn't ever bring him back. I didn't even know his name. Although on that note, maybe things were better that way. My mind turned from one thing to another as I tried to focus on anything other than my own unspeakable acts, bitterly forcing my mind away from the terribleness.

It meant that Iron Will had been telling me the truth all along.

I didn't want to believe his words. I mean, I really, really didn't want it to be true. Because if that were the case, that meant that if I wanted any more of my memories back…

I would have to kill again.

I shook my head violently, throwing splatters of water against the shower curtains. No. No, I wouldn't be doing that. I knew what would have to be done for a few memories, and there was nothing worth doing that to somepony again. Something so point blank awful. It just wasn't worth it.

And it scared me, deep down, just how widely I had been smiling afterwards. I shuddered, the hot water finally beginning to wane and cool as it ran out. It had felt good getting those memories; deeply, physically wonderful. It frightened me so badly, because nothing that unnatural should feel like that. I shivered again, trying to convince myself that it was just the cold water. I let the cool liquid slapping against me jolt me awake properly before turning it off and climbing out of the tub.

The soft towel against my face smelled lightly of fabric and mothballs, and even it couldn't bring my mind back to where it was supposed to be. I was growing fixated, obsessing over Iron Will's words.

Maybe he was just wrong. Maybe I was actually crazy, and I had just killed somepony for no reason at all. That seemed an awful lot like the case, and I might have even started to believe it myself…

But if that were the case, where did the donkey's body go? Had it simply vanished when he died? Was that what happened to anypony that died, their remains just vanished like puffs of smoke?

Eaten by the fog.

I tried not to shudder again as I dried myself, feeling abnormally at home in the little house. There was pleasant enough wallpaper, decent lighting, very cozy. Almost as cozy feeling as my own cottage; or for the most part, anyway. I certainly wasn't going back there, even if I could find my way back. And the ceilings were high enough for me to comfortably stretch and spread my wings without feeling cramped, and there were photographs all over-

I immediately felt much less at home.

I couldn't bring myself to look at the pictures of the donkey and his wife, nor could I go back to the living room without feeling queasy. I just didn't want to be there anymore. It was too much.

I knew, I swore then that I would never harm another soul.

I made sure to clean the crowbar off properly before taking it with me.

Never harm another soul, unless it was in self-defense. I wasn't even out the door yet, and my silent vow was already wavering. Pitiful.

When I first cracked open the door to peer cautiously out, I was genuinely surprised by the lack of fog. For once, I could see clearly for a much further distance. It was like the mist had scurried away from Ponyville, leaking out and draining to the borders. Oh, there was still a lot of fog, just not nearly as much as before. It gave the town a somewhat dirtier look, though. I guess that's because I could see all the trash and rubble lying about more easily now, especially in the light of day.

Hefting the crowbar over my shoulder, I made sure to close the door quietly behind me. I couldn't help but stop before leaving, giving a silent nod back at the little house and mouthing I'm sorry before trotting quickly away.

It was hard not to look back.

Thoughts of the donkey and his wife constantly barged into my head as I tried to inspect Ponyville, searching for signs of life. It wasn't like I could just go back into the fog, not after what I had seen come out of it. I wondered why his wife wasn't there, why he had been staring at the scrapbook full of her pictures. Maybe she would come back soon, only to find him gone. The poor thing would probably be devastated.

Maybe she was already dead.

I hated myself for those thoughts. I just wanted to be a good pony, to be nice and go home where things were safe again. Good ponies didn't have those kinds of thoughts. Good ponies didn't go around committing murder.

I tried to justify it to myself again and again as I passed more boarded up houses, and heard birds chirping in the distance. I could tell myself that I had to do it, that it was something that I had to do to get my memories back. Even if it wasn't true. I knew that it was a lie, a boldfaced lie to myself about why I had done it. There was no purpose in what I had done except for blind panic, terrified of being tossed to monsters and being too weak to defend myself.

Too weak to defend myself. That was a laugh. I was definitely strong enough to beat an old donkey to death, though.

How many times was I going to stop and shake my head? I don't even remember, but it was a lot. Horrible. Horrible, mean, nasty, awful pony. That's what I was. I don't think I've ever wanted to curl up into a ball and hide more than right then, or ever felt so alone. And really, I think I was almost fine with being all alone. I could only imagine what would happen to anypony if they got too close to me.

Shaking my head for the umpteenth time, I struggled with myself. No, I had self-control. What happened back there wouldn't ever, ever happen again. I promised myself that. It wouldn't, it couldn't happen again because I wouldn't let it. I was going to search that miserable little town for clues about my memory, I was going to find anypony that was still there and find out what happened in my past that caused all of this.

I was going to hide my cuts, and wash away the blood on my hooves.

It was terrible, like I could still feel the wetness just on the bottom of my hooves, dripping from my fetlocks while I walked. I knew it wasn't the case, but I had to keep stopping just to check, just to make sure.

Iron Will had also said that I had to kill to keep my sanity, and I certainly wasn't feeling very sane right about then. Heck, I had to have been criminally insane just to lift a hoof against somepony else. I passed a few more boarded up shops and homes. A little house here, a store there. Ponyville must have been big on commerce, I even saw a place that supposedly sold both sofas and quills.

"Mommy?"

My head darted up as I stopped, blood freezing in my veins. I knew that voice, I recognized it as the voice of the filly that had led me to Ponyville, whether deliberately or not.

I'm also pretty sure that it was what had pointed me into that trap with the hook-hooved nightmare, and that was the only thing on my mind at the moment. I even perked up my ears, intently listening for any scraping that signaled what would be a very immediate retreat.

Instead, I heard more voices – the filly's, who seemed to be crying, and a stallion's voice.

I rounded the corner quickly, dragging the crowbar with me as I trotted. And, just as I had heard, there was the same little pegasus filly cowering in the middle of the street, a much angrier looking earth pony stallion shouting terrible words at her and brandishing a hoofball bat.

Standing there right in the center of the deserted road, yelling at the defenseless and crying filly, the tan stallion was clearly bullying her for something; and I was afraid that he was going to hurt her.

And being the stupid, stupid Fluttershy that I am, instead of slinking away quietly and saving my own skin, I just had to barge right in. I really wish I hadn't, I wish I could have been just a little more concerned about anything else.

You'd think I'd have learned my lesson the first time, or the second time, but no. It's almost like I keep trying to make things worse for myself, because that's exactly what I did.

"Hey!" I yelled, although not nearly as loudly as I wanted to.

Yes. My big plan to stop the stallion from harming the unknown yellow filly was to shout at him. I know, I'm brilliant.

And, lo and behold, the tan stallion with the hoofball bat actually turned to glare at me. He had a wavy black mane that had been slicked back, along with a bright red tie accentuated with a dirty and ruffled collar. Readjusting the crowbar in my grip and picking up my pace toward him, I made sure to drag it along the ground loudly to try to look more intimidating.

"You get away from her!" I demanded, hoping that I really was as scary looking as I wanted to be. He actually took a step back in surprise when I picked up the crowbar, and his eyes flicked back and forth between me and the crying filly as he held the bat a little tighter.

"Stop right there," he glowered at me, careful not to stray too far from the filly as I approached. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"Horsefeathers!" I swore, angered further by his increasingly hostile stances. I really was worried that he would lash out and hit the filly at any moment, and I wouldn't be able to place myself between him and the crying filly. "You back off, right now!"

I jabbed the hooked end of the crowbar at him, careful to ensure that he couldn't harm her without getting past me. And, much to my surprise, he actually took a few cautious steps back before inching forward again with the bat at the ready in both his hooves.

"Listen to me," he spat, bright blue eyes flicking between us again and again. "You don't want to be near that thing. Just give her to me, and this will all be over quickly."

"I said, back off!" I shrieked at him, more out of fear than anger this time. Although there was plenty of anger in my swing, I'll tell you that. I was downright offended that he would threaten a filly, especially a defenseless one. "How dare you, how dare you!"

He held up the bat to defend himself, easily blocking my swing and shrugging off the glancing blows. The crowbar shuddered every time I swung, and it tired me quickly. I puffed and huffed, straining to look as tough as possible so that he would just stay away. I didn't want to think about it, but the inkling of potential memories came to mind…

But, again surprising me, he didn't swing back.

The stallion just stood there, glaring hatefully at me and the filly.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he spat again, holding his ground. "That little freak needs to die, right here and now-"

"Don't say things like that!" I insisted viciously, flourishing the crowbar at him even though I doubted I could really harm him with it, even if I got past the bat. "You leave her alone!"

"Why, so you can kill her off yourself?"

The filly, who had slowly begun creeping toward me for defense, suddenly stopped cold in her tracks. She eyed me with fear and doubt, nervously throwing shaking looks back to the distant fog.

"What?" I scowled in disgust. "That's horrible, I would never –"

"Yeah. Yes, you would," he propped the bat against the ground and leaned on it cooly, inspecting me. Like he could see right through me. "Given the chance, you would snap her little neck like a twig."

The filly definitely wasn't coming any closer to me now.

"That's a lie!" I defended vehemently, although even I wasn't too sure of myself. "You just – you, you just go away! Go away, you-you big, dumb… meanie!"

The only thing that frightened me more than the fact that I might be in for a very short fight was that the look he was giving me was one of plain amusement. Like I was entertaining him. The little smirk on his lips didn't help.

"I can see that there's not going to be any bargaining with you," the stallion stated casually. "Not now, anyway. Give it time. You'll break down, eventually. And then, either you'll kill her yourself, or you'll beg me to take her away."

"You should just go," I growled threateningly, pacing back and forth in front of the filly and keeping him at a distance.

"Come now. Let's be reasonable, shall we?" he asked suavely. "What do you even want her for? She has no use to you."

"I don't want her for anything!" I stamped a hoof against the ground. "You just leave her alone! If you don't, I'll… I'll…! You'll be really sorry!"

I hated how pitiful my threats sounded. I hated that stupid, stupid smirk on his stupid face.

Stupid.

"You certainly are a master negotiator," he responded sarcastically, no hint of emotion showing on his face. It was plain as day that he was mocking me. "You'll give me what I want. All I have to do is wait until you get desperate, you know."

"I'm desperate now," I blurted automatically. Surprise surprise, it didn't sound intimidating at all. He just laughed at me, throwing back his head and cackling. A high, empty and cold sounding thing, like an imitation of a laugh.

"Of course you are, Fluttershy," he sniggered into his hoof, throwing the bat over his shoulder and slipping backwards without taking his eyes off of mine. "Of course you are."

He backed away for ten steps… fifteen… thirty. Thirty five paces until he felt that he was safely enough away from me that he could walk away with impunity before walking off through a side alley out of sight. The stallion held his head high all the while, the same little smirk etched onto his face.

I hadn't realized just how long I had been holding my breath, and I finally released it in a shaken puff. My hooves were still quavering as I let the crowbar clang to the ground as it fell loose in my grasp, and I at last turned to look at the filly. Truth be told, I really would have expected her to have not been there at all, but she stayed right where she was, staring at me.

Great big, wide baby blue eyes, filthy matted and disheveled mane. The filly had clearly been crying, and she wiped her nose on her foreleg unhappily.

"Hi!" I tried to sound as friendly as I could, but it obviously wasn't helping. The filly cringed away from me, and I could see why. "No, no no – it's okay, it's okay," I slowly placed the crowbar down on the ground beside me, trying to show her that I wasn't a threat.

She kept sniffling miserably, but thankfully didn't run away.

"My name is Fluttershy," I explained to her slowly, holding out my hoof to her. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you okay, little filly? What's your name?"

"I-I want my mommy," she sniveled again miserably. I almost answered I do, too, but that probably would not have been much help. "Everypony is mean to me."

"Well, I'm not going to let anypony be mean to you anymore, okay?" I held out my hoof for her, which she ever so cautiously touched with her own. "Nopony is going to be big meanies any longer, okay?"

I almost started to talk to myself, like she wasn't the only one that I was consoling. But she eventually nodded, wiping her eyes again.

"Do you have a name?" I asked kindly, picking the crowbar back up and putting it over my shoulder. "My name is Fluttershy. What's yours?"

"M-my name is Scarlet," she answered quietly, almost so much that it was imperceptible to those who weren't listening.

"Scarlet," I let the word roll over my tongue, and smiled at her. "Oh, that's such a lovely name. Where are your parents, Scarlet?"

I was really hoping that I could take the filly back to her home, maybe find someplace that she (and I) would be safer. It also occurred to me that the fog was starting to come back, and it wasn't even nighttime yet. Odd that I had begun to associate the white mist with the shadows of the night, but I did.

"I don't know," Scarlet rubbed her foreleg bitterly. "I don't know where I am, I don't know – I don't know…!" she began to hyperventilate, looking like she were going to cry again.

"Hey, hey hey hey hey," I tried to say soothingly as I knelt in front of her, even though I was steadily growing more nervous with the slowly rising fog. "It's okay, Scarlet. It's going to be okay. We're going to get you home, and then you're going to be safe. You just stick close to Fluttershy, okay?"

I just kept saying 'okay' over and over again, trying to hammer in that she would be fine. But I couldn't promise that, and it terrified me that I couldn't promise her safety. I couldn't even keep myself safe, the numerous cuts and scrapes along my back legs were testament to that. But she finally nodded, and I pulled her into a tight, warm little hug. Whether for her or my benefit, I still can't say.

And so, with a new mission that seemed to me just about as daunting as recovering my memory, the two of us set out through the growing mist.

0-0-0-0-0

There are ghosts in the fog.

I can't say for certain, but I feel that it's true. The constant pressure, the tingling feeling on the back of my neck that urges me to look around every time the fog comes, it all makes me feel that there are ghosts in the mist, watching me at all times. Waiting. Watching. Always watching.

Scarlet stayed close to me, nearly hugging my side as we walked through Ponyville. We left the center of the street to hug the walls of the boarded up buildings, and I gleaned little to no information from the filly that could have helped.

"Do you know where your parents are?"

"No."

"What town are you from?"

"I don't remember."

"How did you get here?"

"I don't know."

"Do you remember anything?" I nearly threw up my hooves in exasperation, but I knew for a fact that wouldn't be any good. Scarlet whimpered, and I felt just terrible for making her flinch.

"I don't know," she almost started crying again. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I just want my mommy. I have to find my mom."

I ran a hoof through my mane, letting out a quiet sigh. I wished that I could help the filly, but I didn't even know how to help myself anymore.

Unless I told her to kill somepony, and it could somehow restore her memories.

I wondered if everypony in this town had already done the same, if they had killed to restore their memories. Maybe even that stallion back there had done the same… thing that I did. Perhaps he killed somepony with that bat, and scrubbed it madly to get it clean again like I had with the crowbar. Maybe everypony had simply gone insane. That might explain why so many places were decrepit and destroyed. Maybe the whole town had gone mad all at once, and turned on each other in the process to save themselves. I couldn't think of how it tied in with the fog or the monsters.

It didn't explain why he referred to Scarlet as a 'thing'.

She seemed normal enough to me; just a scared little filly looking for her mommy. It was probably just that creepy bastard trying to scare me away from her, so that-

Scarlet jumped when I shuddered, forcing the horrible thoughts out of my mind. She stared wide eyed at me, but I was sure to place a comforting hoof on her shoulder with a weak smile before nodding and continuing on our way.

We weren't even going anywhere in particular. I didn't know, that's for sure. It was the blind leading the blind, and of course it was only a matter of time before we hit a stumbling block. That stumbling block happened to come in the form of another thick wall of fog that crashed in on Ponyville, taking the streets like a tidal wave.

It wasn't until I couldn't see more than a few feet in front of my face that I realized Scarlet was gone.

"Scarlet?" I called out, but my voice was muffled. Fear made my voice catch in my throat, and I felt as if I were being slowly smothered. "Scarlet! Ooh, I said to stay close to me!"

I whipped my head around for her, but found no sight of the filly. I debated leaving the wall and darting off through the fog in a mad search for her, but chances were that I'd only be just as lost as her.

"… No. No, it can't be…" I muttered aloud, thinking. There was definitely no sunlight anymore, and I couldn't really tell if the mist was really that thick or if nighttime had somehow come early.

But that was impossible.

I heard some kind of sharp whizzing overhead, like the swooping of a large bird or bat. I ducked instinctively, snapping my head around to peer through the fog, but found nothing. I kept the crowbar a little closer to myself, picking up my speed and thinking quickly. If the darkness was settling over Ponyville this quickly, then I didn't have a chance of finding Scarlet; and, grim as it seemed, she might have already been dead.

I was almost sick at the thought. So much for my empty promises to a helpless filly.

I froze, chewing my lower lip as the internal debate raged. I really couldn't go any further without her, I couldn't just leave her all alone. Even when I tried calling her name again and again, my voice was too muffled for anypony to hear.

But those were just excuses, I knew it. I wasn't frozen by indecision, I was paralyzed by fear. Fear for Scarlet, fear for myself, fear of the wretched fog that just seemed to choke the life out of everything.

Something else swooped over my head, startling me. I whirled around, eyes as wide as saucers as I made for the nearest building's entrance in attempt to pry off the boards covering the door as I had the last time. Before I made it there, the swooping came closer – and more than that, I yelped in pain when something yanked at my mane.

"Scarlet?" I screamed, refraining from swinging wildly at the unseen assailant above. "Scarlet, if you can hear me, hide! Hide and don't come out, Scarlet! Scarlet!"

Claws raked at my back, making me drop and cry out in pain again. It stung like hot knives being laid across me, four or five lines tearing straight across before I could catch more than a glimpse of whatever was above me.

And whatever 'it' was, it was large, and there was more than one.

A lot more than one.

I tried to stifle the wail of despair, crawling on my belly to the boarded up door. The moment I tried slipping the crowbar into the slats between them, I felt another strike at my back, and again at my head. I screamed through my teeth, violently yanking and jerking until I began to pry boards off. No matter how I swung at the air, I couldn't smack back at the shadowy figures. Clawed and battered, I pried and pulled at boards that were surprisingly sturdier than the others that had led me to Iron Will.

I was bleeding badly by the time I finally managed to yank off the last of the boards, and dragged myself inside to snap the door behind me. Gasping and panting for breath, I sank to the floor and let out a long, low sob of pain and fatigue, almost giggling at the joy of having escaped.

"Like a – walk – in the – park," I panted feebly to no one, giving myself a few minutes to let my eyes adjust to the dark. I just laid there for a while, cursing my own limited stamina and tried not to move or agitate the cuts. I'd have time to take care of them later, for the time, I needed a place to hide until morning.

I huddled miserably in the dark with my back against the door, tiredly mulling over the events.

I had failed in helping Scarlet. Almost immediately, which was just plain sad. I hadn't learned anything from my memories of fillyhood, or even who the rainbow maned pegasus had been. I hadn't recalled anything important, and I still felt like my hooves were stained with blood.

Not just with those of the donkey, but now with Scarlet's.

Who I was too much of a coward to go and search for.

I thumped my head against the door as the golf ball lodged itself in my throat, and my eyes burned unexpectedly. I didn't have a choice, I would have died out there.

She was probably screaming in pain just as I was right about now, with the fog too thick for anypony to hear her. Defenseless, alone, scared –

"Dammit all!" I bellowed as I yanked the door open, tears blurring my vision as I dragged the crowbar after myself. "Scarlet! Scarlet, where are you?"

I promptly heard shrieking overhead, and I screamed right back.

"Go away!" I swung at the air as the clawing resumed, and I rolled to escape it. Hard gravel punched my back and stuck in my wings, but I kept going nonetheless. "Scarlet? Scarlet!"

I heard rough scrabbling at the ground in front of me, and it sounded much larger than a filly. Scurrying away to my left where we had initially come from, I made for where I thought the building's side should be.

"Scarlet!" I screamed so loudly that my voice began going hoarse, the panic making my voice crack. "Scarlet, please!"

"Mommy?"

"Scarlet!" I darted in the direction of the weak voice, like it was echoing out of a tin can. "Scarlet, stay where you are!"

That's when the screaming started.

"Hang on, Scarlet, mommy's coming!"

I still dragged that stupid crowbar with me, stumbling down the alleyway and tripping over garbage. The fog thinned just enough for me to spot more filth along the ground. Whipping my head back and forth wildly in search of her, I drew in a frail breath to call for her again…

When I finally spotted the tiny filly, huddled shaking against the side of an upturned rusting dumpster.

"Scarlet!" I let out a gasp of relief, the flapping overhead urging me onward. "Stay right there, Scarlet, I'm –"

I didn't really get to finish, because my voice gave out midsentence.

There, stalking toward me from the end of the alley, was that damned hook-hoofed mare.

Scrape. Scrape. Scraaaaaape.

"Run!" I yelled, tripping forward and grabbing Scarlet's hoof. "Run, Scarlet, run!"

The awful shriek of rage came just behind us as we fled, the scraping growing louder and louder and intermingling with the angry swiping from overhead. In my terror, I managed to get a glimpse of one of the things flying in the fog above.

I wish I hadn't.

Wings full of holes and claws on the end of its hooves, the skeletal pony seemed to be made entirely out of taut skin and bone. Leathery, sagging faces loomed down at us with mouths full of sharp teeth, and I only dragged Scarlet faster and faster to the open doorway. She didn't make a noise when she tripped over a pothole in the road, one of the things nearly snatching her up before I snatched her up in my hooves and lurched toward safety with all my might.

Scrape scrape scrape scrape scraaaaaaaaape!

Slamming the door behind us, I fumbled rapidly for worn locks along the door, not letting go of her until the steel tumblers finally fell and locked the wooden barrier in place.

And when I finally let both the crowbar and the filly go, I don't know which of us was crying harder.

0-0-0-0-0

I must have passed out at some point, because I woke up with Scarlet huddled next to me.

Trying not to wake the sleeping filly, I stretched my aching muscles-

And immediately regretted it, as several of the cuts and bruises twinged painfully when I moved.

Scarlet shifted in my grasp, jerking awake and clawing to her feet.

"It's okay, it's okay!" I insisted, my throat parched and sore. "It's alright, Scarlet. We're okay. We're okay now. Everything's okay."

The filly's breathing was heavy, and she twitchily pulled her pink mane from her face. She shook herself a few times, sitting on her haunches and looking around at the dark, dingy little home that we had broken into.

"Um… t-thank you," she whispered eventually, although it might have simply been that her throat was just as raw from screaming. "I-I was so scared, I-I-I…"

Scarlet whimpered again, pulling at the tips of her messy mane in distress. I pulled her into another hug, thinking.

I think I had called myself 'mommy' at some point. It was probably just a reaction. There was no way I was her mother… was there? The more I looked at her, the more I realized that we did have a fair resemblance. I could see it plain as day. Maybe I really was her mother, and I just couldn't remember…

Scarlet started shifting uneasily, and I pulled away from her at last. My mind was heavy, and I hurt like I had been tossed under a speeding carriage. The place we'd stopped in was loaded with cobwebs, and seemed to be the home of an elderly pony. Old paintings and faded photographs with cracked glass lined the walls, and a pair of crutches lie snapped in the corner. Down a little hall was a flight of stairs to the right, and I could see no further.

I pulled myself up, standing weakly. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I had eaten, and Scarlet seemed to be in a similar poor condition.

"Come along, Scarlet," I nodded quietly to her, sounding much more confident than I really was. "Let's go and see if we can scavenge anything useful."

"Okay, Fluttershy," she whispered back, carefully eyeing the door behind us as we trailed down the slim hallway. There were a few rooms along the way, but most either had the doors broken or looked to be dark and filled with rubbish. I really wished that the crutches had been fixed, because I swore that I could have used them. I probably looked like hell, what with the blood in my matted mane. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in some of the broken glass on the walls as we walked, though I tried not to look at myself.

Then again, it wasn't like I was going to see much worse than I already had, so where could the harm be?

"Are we looking for just anything?" Scarlet asked nervously, peering around in the dark.

"Supplies," I answered unenthusiastically, resisting the urge to rub the sleep from my eyes. "Just the basics for now. Food, clean water. We need to make sure this place is sa-"

I started to tell her about Iron Will and how I had discovered him behind boarded up doors just like these, but I bit my tongue when I heard voices above us. I listened intently, holding up a hoof to Scarlet for silence, even though she hadn't said anything.

I cupped my ear in my hoof, thankful that the stairs were carpeted and ever so slowly creeping up them. Scarlet followed me closely, and we snuck upwards with growing apprehension. Making sure to keep the crowbar tightly gripped, I slipped further and further up the stairway, forced to draw closer to make out the stallion's voice.

"-f the – not going – insert f- anny Smith!" the voice was stifled by the walls, and as I peeked over the last of the steps and into another dark empty hallway, I saw a thin streak of light indicating an open door on the far end of the hall.

Quietly sneaking ahead, I could start to make out what the stallion was saying. It sounded like he was arguing, but I couldn't hear anypony but him.

"-u the first time, there's nothing worth it! We'll just keep going, I'm never going back to that fucking deathtrap again. We can just check Q and S again, we'll have to go back there anyway."

I could have sworn that the floorboards beneath me creaked with every step I took, but I only inched myself toward the noise more slowly. I could see several empty cans of food lying strewn about, meaning that whoever it was definitely had something that we could use. Now it was just a matter of finding out whether or not they were dangerous, because I unquestionably was not going barging into this situation unprepared.

"Hurry up, will you? This damned thing isn't going to work on its own, you lazy bum!"

The stallion sounded fairly angry by the time I reached the slightly cracked open door, and I peered through carefully. From what I could see, a tiny bit of weak sunlight poured in through the only window that wasn't covered by boards or some other obstruction. An odd looking, clunky metal rectangular box sat coated in grease and grime in the middle of the room, with a pair of pipes sticking out of it. Wires were strung from the cobbled together machine and linked to the ceiling, attached to an unlit glass bulb.

"I swear to fucking Celestia, if you don't hurry up…!" the stallion bellowed, pacing around the generator until I finally got a glimpse of him. He was a mustached, milky yellow unicorn with a heavy looking black bow, and his voice only grew louder the more he paced. The unicorn wiped a bead of sweat from beneath the brim of his straw hat, tucking a screwdriver into his striped white and blue vest before violently kicking the generator.

Sensing that he was probably too angry of a type to reason with and thinking back on the stallion from earlier with the hoofball bat, I wordlessly gestured to Scarlet to come close to me without taking my eyes off of the unicorn. Instead of obeying, Scarlet didn't make a sound – my hoof grasped empty air as I slowly began creeping backwards, a growing sense of dread building in my chest.

I bumped right into a second unicorn, looking nearly identical to the other. At first I thought that he was an apparition of some sort, and had somehow teleported behind me to scare me senseless – the next thing that I realized was that this one didn't have a mustache, while the other was still rambling. And finally, I discovered just where Scarlet had gone to.

He held the filly aloft in a magical grip, one hoof over his mouth and a smirk on his face.

Scarlet's eyes were wide with terror, and before I could say or do anything at all, the unicorn holding her twirled his hoof through the air in a circle, wordlessly gesturing for me to open the door.

Swallowing hard, I shakily turned and complied.

"-f all the things, and run damned dry!" the mustached one finished his angry rant, turning in surprise to face me. "… Oh? Well! Lookie what we've got here, brother of mine!" his attitude turned an almost one hundred and eighty degrees, startling me further. I don't know why, though. If he had been in that mood before, I probably would have just walked on in.

"Why, just a couple of mares trying to get the jump on us, Flam!" the one silencing Scarlet shoved me inward, and I nearly stumbled before gripping the crowbar fiercely.

"Ooh, and this one's feisty, Flim," Flam pulled the screwdriver out of his vest pocket with a lightly glowing aura, giving it a little twirl with a wide grin that made me very, very nervous.

"You know, Flam," the opposite brother stated. "If we weren't such pleasant folks, we might have killed somepony sneaking up on us like that."

"I-I don't want to hurt either one of you," I stuttered over my words, my voice coming out much frailer than I intended. Flam, the one with the mustache, only laughed at me.

Did wonders for my self-esteem.

"Put that down, little missy," Flam chortled at me. "You're going to wind up getting yourself hurt."

"We don't want any trouble," I turned in place again and again, trying to keep my eyes on both of them at once. Flim continued to hold the squirming filly in the air, and Flam only smirked at me like… I don't know. It was a hard look to describe, as if he were… gauging me, of sorts.

It made me a lot more wary.

"Like we haven't heard that before!" Flam laughed far too loudly for it to be natural, which Flim mimicked behind me. I tried scooting over to the side, holding the crowbar up fearfully so that my back was to the wall, but neither of them moved. In fact, Flam seemed even more… relaxed.

"I'm telling the truth," I almost pleaded with him. "Scarlet and I are just lost, we-we're trying-"

The unicorn cut me off with a snickering toss of his head, shaking it back and forth slowly.

"Scarlet," he pronounced it slowly, eyeing the suddenly still filly up with a stare that I did not like in the slightest. "Ohh. That's such a lovely name."

No.

Oh, no. No, no no no.

I think the horror started dawning on my face, because Flam turned that look towards me.

"Well, little missy," he inspected the bottom of his hoof lazily. "It seems that you're in a bit of a predicament. Hmm?"

"Don't hurt her," I brandished the crowbar, keeping an eye on Flim, who had an even stranger look on his face. "Don't you – don't hurt her, don't you dare…!"

"Oh, no, tch!" Flam fake-laughed again, clasping his chest with one hoof while he did so. "Why, as if such upstanding gentlecolts such as ourselves would sink to such a low. Flim?" he turned to his brother.

"Why, yes, Flam?" he answered with the same false enthusiasm, even bobbing a little with his words.

"Could you possibly imagine such a thing, oh brother of mine?"

"Why, certainly not! We're honorable and fine!" Flim sneered in a very practiced tone, slowly placing the filly on the ground in front of him.

Flam turned to me with one hoof held out to the side, like he was displaying his worth.

"There, you see?" he beamed at me widely. "Put down that down miss. Don't make me tell you again."

I didn't drop the crowbar immediately, instead looking warily back and forth between the brothers. In one swift motion, Flam's horn glowed with a vibrant green flash, yanking the metal bar sharply away from me and tossing it against the floor by the far wall. My breath catching in my chest as I panicked, I slowly drew away from them both, uneager to take my eyes off of either.

Still neither of them moved. Flim remained blocking the only doorway, and I eyed the window desperately.

"Now," Flam said to me in a quieter, more serious tone. "Missy, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. And believe you me, missy, you don't want to do this the hard way."

It wasn't until he held up a bundle of wires in one hoof that I finally realized what he was getting at. I think the bottom of my stomach dropped out when it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt as if I were going to be sick. My face contorted into a grim, hateful and bitter scowl as I cringed with the knowledge, trying to force back the tears and keep myself under control.

"… Not in front of the filly."

My voice was soft and low, but steady.

I don't know quite how, but I guessed – or maybe knew – from that look what he intended.

"... Please."

Flam nodded almost imperceptibly, his overly cheerful demeanor returning instantly.

"Flim, oh brother of mine," he turned with a wide smile to the other unicorn. "Why don't you take young miss Scarlet downstairs and occupy her little mind for a while, eh? I believe that I have some business to discuss with this fine young mare. Yes, fine young mare indeed."

Flim started to say something, but his brother only tilted his head a little. It was like there was a silent communication between them, and Flim nodded afterwards. Silently pushing the worried filly out, Flim led her away as Flam wordlessly closed and locked the door behind him.

I don't think I've ever hated the sound of a closing lock quite that much.

"… Now," Flam turned to me with the same seriousness as before, all joy sucked out of his voice. "I'm glad that we can agree that the easy way is the smart way, missy."

"My name is Fluttershy," I corrected him nearly inaudibly, to which he 'tch'd' again.

"You know how this is going to happen, don't you," he said quietly, pacing in front of me. It was more of a statement than a question. I didn't reply, so he continued. "You're going to comply, we're going to do this at whatever pace I decide. I don't care if you fight back," Flam added.

I still said nothing, only pursing my lips as my mind worked furiously in attempt to find a way out.

"To tell the truth, I kind of like it when the fight back. Gives some more life to the act, you know?" he magically extended the length of wire. "But try not to struggle too much. Wouldn't want anything to happen to that sweet, tender little filly, now would we?"

"If you hurt her…" I started, but he slapped he hard across the face and sent me reeling against the wall.

"Nopony is going to have to hurt anypony if somepony can shut the fuck up," Flam growled. "Stick out your hooves."

I choked back my words, tears stinging my eyes. I couldn't look at him as I slowly extended my shaking hooves, a painful mark on my cheek already growing just beneath my eye. It took him only a couple of moments to have magically tied off the knots around my forelegs, keeping them painfully tight. It cut into my flesh as he dragged me toward the generator, tying the other end around both my muzzle and one of the copper pipes.

It really sank in just what was going to happen, and how completely helpless I was to stop it or protect Scarlet in any way other than… this. I hated it, I hated myself for being weak, I hated Flam. I hated him, I hated his brother, I hated them both with an intensity that I haven't ever felt before.

I was crying before it even started, and he made sure to lean in close to my face so that I could see his smug smirk of superiority. Like he was more than pleased, like he was… proud, that he made me cry.

It only made me hate him more.

Even though I was shaking and bracing myself, it started without warning.

Shortly afterwards, I discovered that I was indeed not Scarlet's mother.

The pain was… excruciating.

My cries of hurt were muffled by the makeshift gag, and he pulled hard at my wings while he thrust into me again and again, like a piston. He jammed into me over and over, hitting me hard when I began to fall to the ground, unable to stand anymore. Everything was sore and aching before long from the literal beating that I was taking, agonizing welts growing hotly wherever he struck me with wire.

And every time I screamed, he smacked me again. It was clear from his words that he was enjoying my suffering as much as he was enjoying himself, but the words started to blur together eventually.

I tried not to – if anything, I didn't want Scarlet to hear the noise. I didn't want her to hear the sound of wet flesh hitting flesh, I didn't want her to hear Flam's countless filthy declarations of what he considered me. I didn't want her to hear me crying.

He picked up pace now and then, going faster or slower depending on how badly I was shaking. If I tried to stay still, he did as much to make me shake as he could, like he was trying to elicit reaction from me. When I did react, it wasn't what he wanted, and he tried another form of punishment.

It wasn't until he was panting and leaning over my back, screwdriver at my throat that it happened.

The sharp tip jabbing into my skin, just starting to draw blood from the painful pressure in one of his hooves seemed to strike right into my mind, piercing right through every mental blockade I had vainly been trying to produce, to find a happy place to block it all out.

Something inside of me… died, right then.

When I realized that Flam never really had any intention of letting me go. He never planned to keep his part of the 'agreement', if I could even call it that. He was going to kill me when he was done, and then there would be nothing left to stop him from getting to Scarlet.

I say that something died, but I don't think that's entirely the case. If anything, something else was born.

The crowbar was too far away for me to reach, and with the screwdriver slowly penetrating my throat, it was only a short matter of time before my death came.

Whereas I had been still the majority of the time, I bucked sharply underneath Flam just as he moved into a more vulnerable position, jerking away from the screwdriver and kicking his legs from underneath him simultaneously. In the same motion, I used my hooves and teeth to loosen the loops around the pipe, partially freeing myself. My muzzle came free, but my hooves remained linked together by wire.

It was all the time I had before being violently kicked in the side.

I let out a feeble scream of pain as I rolled with the kick, Flam charging hatefully after me. I think he just wanted to inflict as much physical pain on me as he possibly could, because he came prepared to strike with a fire in his eyes. I kicked in terror across the floor, making a leap for the crowbar glinting not too far away. If I could just get ahold of the weapon again, I could…

I didn't make it to the crowbar.

My hooves just barely touched it, still strung together with wire when Flam angrily yanked back on my wings, making me scream in agony. He stomped me sharply in the back, hoof slamming into the base of my spine as he yanked harder and harder. Flam wasn't just going to kill me, he was going to tear my wings off.

"You – little – fucking – slut!" he seethed through his teeth, making me cry and yell with every blow. I tried to scrabble and crawl away, but I couldn't get any traction on the floor with my hooves. Instead, I kicked up hard from the ground and forcefully turned to the side, taking Flam by surprise. I heard one of my wings snap, but the pain took backseat to the fear of just what he would do to Scarlet if I didn't stop him.

Panting and shaking, I bit him hard in the face. Flam screamed, punching me once – twice – three times in the face before I fell away, landing hard on my back. He kicked at me again, but I rolled and nearly passed out when pressure wen onto my wing. Woozily kicking his legs from beneath him again, I took my opportunity and cast my tied hooves over his head and yanked backwards as hard as I could.

Flam jerked and bucked in denial, but I only squeezed tighter. He made a similar crawl for the crowbar, but I only shoved him against the ground and pulled until I lost feeling in my hooves and his breathing came in short, gasping chokes.

"Just – just die," I huffed as I wept, crossing my hooves to tighten my hold around his throat, slamming his head against the floor again and again when I saw the desperate green glow of magic. I wouldn't let him focus long enough for it to work, continuously beating his face against the floor with all my might. He grunted and tried to roll me off, but I just kept choking him and squeezing, harder and harder.

"Die," I sobbed into his neck after my legs began to give out. "Die, you son of a bitch, just – fucking – die."

And die, Flam did. He finally, finally gave one last, gurgling choke and weak kick with his back leg before he finally stopped moving.

0-0-0-0-0

"Hold still, Fluttershy, dear," Rarity tittered, pinning the dress gracefully in place. "Perhaps it's the wrong lighting…?"

"Um, Rarity?" I asked, the unicorn turning to me distractedly. "I know you really like this one, but the straps are a little tight."

"How tight?" she asked curiously, magically prying the green dress off.

"Um, well, I can't feel my hooves anymore."

Rarity tittered again, helping me out of the clothing and down from the stand.

"Thank you kindly, darling. I'll take that into consideration," she smiled at me friendlily, and I was careful that I didn't trip off the stand.

"Oh, no, thank you, Rarity!" I insisted, a warm feeling blossoming in my chest. "I'm sure that it'll be absolutely lovely by the time you're done. Do you really think I can make it work?"

"Dear," Rarity readjusted her bejeweled red glasses with a skeptically raised eyebrow. "You can make anything at all work. My latest work is just the icing on the cake. You'll be fine before the party –"

0-0-0-0-0

The words drifted away in my ears, and I woozily stood from the floor.

Or tried to, anyway. The extreme elation of memories surging into me, making me giddy and lightheaded didn't help, and I had to lean on the dirty generator to keep from falling over. I vaguely wondered why the act of taking another life made me feel so euphoric. It felt good. In a deep, tingling way. Maybe it was just what had gone on, but I even started to wonder if it was something more than a purely physical reaction, like it was a perverse kind of pleasure.

And I felt no guilt this time. None at all.

I felt satisfaction.

That probably wasn't a good sign, but I didn't have much time to think about it. Spitting out a gobbet of blood and wiping my mouth, I wearily pulled myself from my bondage, grabbed the crowbar from the floor and dragged it after myself.

It wasn't until I got downstairs that my heartbeat went right back up again.

Flim and Scarlet were long gone.

0-0-0-0-0