Rookwood came to reality as a rabbit. This was not a normal state of affairs, but nothing was normal any more. Normal had been tied down to a stone table and tortured to death by Nightmare Moon. He was deep inside the earth, down inside of his rabbit hole, where it was dark, safe, secure, and warm. He had a cute little fluffy tail and a tawny hide, long floppy ears, and big broad feet.

Rookwood was Mr. Bun.

Rookwood began to feel a creeping sense of caution. He couldn’t tell if it was because he knew he was dreaming, because he was a rabbit, or because he was waiting for Nightmare Moon to pop out from someplace and get right down to the torture and the rape.

The rabbit hole seemed utterly and completely secure.

Rookwood, like Mr. Bun, moved upward through the hole, towards the light, seeing it off in the distance, faint, luminous, inviting. It didn’t take long for Rookwood the rabbit to scurry through the earth and find his way to the surface.

And it was glorious. He could feel the sun, he could feel the golden warmth radiating into his hide, flooding his being with life, removing aches and pains the little rabbit was not even aware he had had. Rookwood, now Mr. Bun, stood once again in the sun and didn’t burst into flames. And it was wonderful. Life affirming even. Rookwood had trouble fathoming the sheer joy that he felt.

He emerged from the hole,, leaving the shadowy confines, feeling tender grass beneath his toes… What an odd sensation having toes. He nibbled at the inviting grass, cool, moist, delicious. There was life here. Living things. The sepulchral darkness was gone. A vast field of clover was nearby, smelling sweet and full of bees industriously collecting pollen.

Rookwood struggled, trying to discern some sort of threat. He could barely even tell he was dreaming. This all felt so real. He was Mr. Bun, from the bedtime story that Luna had read to Violet, and he was going to have an adventure.

Mr. Bun had lived a remarkably pleasant and simple life. He had ventured forth, found a she rabbit, and she became Mrs. Bun. Mr. Bun had all of the luck. No horrors, no nightmares, the scariest thing Mr. Bun encountered was a road, where ponies pulled carts, and the ponies had stopped for him, being the kind considerate creatures that they were, and they had waited for him to pass, both coming and going, when he returned with the soon to be Mrs. Bun.

It was an overly simple story and Violet had loved it, taking a great deal of comfort from the story, as foals were prone to do. They could endure almost anything if you sat down and read them the right story, cuddling them as the pleasant and saccharine words were spoken.

Rookwood discovered he could bound and hop from place to place, doing so with the greatest ease, his long powerful hind legs propelling him effortlessly over the earth. The damp grass tickled his belly, and tickled something else as well. He felt a strong urge… A need to find himself a Mrs. Bun. Rabbits had marvelous urges, urges that Rookwood found remarkably similar to his own. Free from his tortured body that had been ravaged by unspeakable horrors and rape, Rookwood felt his sex drive returning, something that had vanished during the events of the last week or so.

He stopped and nibbled at some clover, having left the safety of the rabbit hole. The world was bright, clear, free of the ever present darkness. There were so many riotous colours. Vivid blues. Vibrant yellow. Verdant greens.

The clover was sweet and succulent, tender, and filled him with need. He devoured it, his little fuzzy mouth chewing frantically, his rabbit nose twitching, one ear quivering slightly. The clover he consumed flooded his body with the feeling of life… He hadn’t eaten much out in the real world lately. The flavour of the clover was almost orgasmic on his little rabbit tongue.

He hopped and bounded, leaping from place to place, from sunny patch to shaded patch, running riot through the lush green fields, enjoying all that life had to offer. In the distance, he saw a run down wooden fence, there was a well with a dilapidated leaning roof over it, and off in the distance, Rookwood knew there would be a road with ponies pulling carts.

He bounded towards the road, as ponies were gregarious creatures.

He approached the well, pausing to rest in the shade on the side opposite the sun, feeling a cool sensation, and then walking out into the sun again, reveling in the contrasts between the shade and the sunshine filled world. He stepped between the two places, pausing in both shade and sunshine, feeling the contrast, the difference, the pleasant subtle sensations of both, feeling all too familiar with one and all too strange to the other.

He stood at the edge of the road, watching the ponies pass. They stared at him curiously, stopping, waiting for him to cross. He took one careful step into the road, smiling a little rabbit smile at a mare who was smiling at him pleasantly.

Two steps into the road, Rookwood was snatched by a swooping raptor, bourne into the air by powerful wings. “Look out!” Cried the mare, no longer smiling, watching him being snatched away in powerful talons, Rookwood’s rabbit screams filling the air.

Rookwood felt the terrible talons digging into his flesh, crushing his body, splintering one of his bones in his leg. He squirmed and struggled, determined to not go quietly. He sank his large buck teeth into the leg muscles of the raptor, biting down, through feathers and flesh, into muscle, his teeth thudding off of bone.

Rookwood heard the raptor screech and let go of him. He was so high up in the air though, the ground a dizzying distance below him. And now, he was in a much worse situation. The raptor might have killed him cleanly and relatively quickly. Now, he was going to fall to his death, and there was plenty of time to think about it.

He could see splintered bits of bone protruding through his leg and felt the air rushing through his fuzzy hide. Pain wracked his body, but it wasn’t so bad really. He was becoming dead to pain. It was there, finally flooding this new body, but he found he could deal with it.

The terror of falling wasn’t something he could deal with however. He struggled to wake up, to poof out of existence, to flee this new nightmare.

Nothing he did worked.

The ground rushed ever closer to meet him, the colours now seemed garish and undesirable. The sunlit world had lost its appeal. He longed for the pleasant darkness of his rabbit hole and regretted ever leaving. The faint taste of clover in his mouth turned bitter.

He collided with the ground with a wet splatter, feeling his body pop, his insides bursting, his organs scattering everywhere, forming a gruesome puddle, and Rookwood felt all of it before he died.

“Rookwood!”

Rookwood struggled back into terrible waking world, his body ablaze with terrible pain.

“Rookwood, she took you again and I couldn’t stop her… Speak to me, I need to hear your voice.” Luna begged. “I couldn’t see… I couldn’t find my way in. You were completely gone from me!”

Rookwood groaned, struggling to draw breath, his gaunt body aching. His breath rattled in his lungs. His throat was dry and his lips were cracked.

A painful light burned in the room, a single tiny mote of magical light, floating around above the bed, a tiny ball of light the size of a pea, bobbing around, the silver light stabbing Rookwood’s eyes with white hot needles.

Rookwood closed his eyes.

“Rookwood, you look terrible. You really need to eat. I… Fear for you.” Luna said, shuddering.

“Sundown soon.” Rookwood said. “Violet time.”

Luna nodded in the faint light, her head high, laying on her belly, looking down upon Rookwood. He had been scrawny at the best of times, now he was looking nearly skeletal. The past week had been hard on both of them.

Violet seemed to improve as Rookwood seemed to deteriorate. She was growing flesh back now, raw red ragged flesh, skin returning to her shambling meaty form. The bloody stumps of her wings were wings now, at least the bare naked limbs, with no feathers. Eyelids began to form crude beginnings, one beginning to wrap around her remaining eye, the other closing up the gaping ragged socket.

Luna eased herself from the bed, landing silently upon her hooves, moving silently over the floor, pulling Rookwood along in her magic, hauling him into the bathroom, where she had already been drawing a bath. The silver mote of light followed, bouncing around in the darkness, not wanting to leave Luna’s side, as though it were afraid of the darkness.

As Luna entered the bathroom, she froze, seeing something that caused her to nearly drop Rookwood from her magical grasp. Her mouth opened and closed, words failing, her eyes going wide, the teal irises becoming tiny pinpricks in a sea of white.

Luna screamed, a terrible sound in the bathroom, ringing from the tiles, causing Rookwood to recoil in pain. He writhed, trying to cover his ears with his hooves.

Luna realised she was alone in the mirror, seeing herself in the faint silvery light.

She took a few much needed deep breaths, and then said nothing, gently lowering Rookwood into the water. She stood on the edge of the tub, trying to gain control of her emotions.

“How long have you known?” Luna whispered.

“A while now.” Rookwood replied, sinking into the water. The warmth of the water seemed to revitalise him, his voice sounding a little more sure, his tone a bit more steady.

Luna stepped into the water, carefully, it was hot and it stung pleasantly. Her ethereal mane and tail becoming solid and real as the water touched it.

“That light is painful.” Rookwood complained.

“I cannot bear the darkness any longer. It has become oppressive. It scares me.” Luna said.

“I know Luna. I’m sorry. And I’m worried that I am becoming the very thing that frightens you.” Rookwood mumbled, settling comfortably into the water. He felt a little strength returning.

“Don’t say that Rookwood. Please. I know you said you would follow me into the darkness, but that is no longer the case. Now, I feel as though I am following you… And it scares me. You're falling into a place I am afraid to go… And I am worried.” Luna’s tone was filled with concern. “If you do not eat this evening, I will thrash you to within one inch of the end of your life.”

“I am trying Luna, I am.” Rookwood replied.

“You are spending hours, hours dove into shadow now. Tonight, I want you stay in your body. No shadow diving. No drifting. No nothing. It is doing something to you. Something awful.” Luna complained. “Even I can’t stay submerged into shadow for hours like you do. It isn’t healthy for your living flesh.”

“It comforts Violet when I am in shadow.” Rookwood said. “And she’s healing up. Starting to look like a pony again. Sort of”

“I know. It scares me. And Celestia. Celestia worries that Violet might be draining you and sapping your vitality.” Luna replied.

“And you?” Rookwood inquired.

“And I am starting to worry as well.” Luna admitted.

“I am getting stronger though.” Rookwood announced. “The fact that I can stay in shadow for hours… Doesn’t that say something about my abilities?”

“Perhaps, but I am not sure if the price on your body is worth it. I will confess, you are gaining in power rapidly. Nightmare Moon’s tortures may have given you strength rather than reduce you.” Luna said, only her muzzle above the surface of the water. Her mane swirled around her body in the tub. She looked like a Goddess framed in beauty laying in the water.

Rookwood began to laugh, and it was not a pleasant sound in the dim confines of the bathroom. His laughter was manic, almost painful, his breath hitching unpleasantly as he laughed.

“Stop!” Luna begged.

Rookwood lapsed into silence. “I’m sorry.” He muttered.

“Your laugh is becoming too much like hers.” Luna uttered in a pain filled whisper. “I worry Rookwood, I am afraid.”

“Luna, I am doing this for you. I will go where you would not dare.” Rookwood soothed.

“I do not want you to go there! I want you with me! My destiny lies in darkness, not yours.” Luna whispered, her voice now frantic, sounding very much like she did when she was a filly in the dream Rookwood had visited, seeing her try to carve off her own cutie mark.

“You don’t know that.” Rookwood retorted. “Your mark has darkness true, but what of my mark? A pony in profile… A shadow of its former self. Can you really say what lies ahead for me?”

“No.” Luna confessed. “I cannot.”

“Then we will go into the darkness. And I shall lead the way. I will not be afraid.” Rookwood replied.

“But you should be!” Luna said frantically.

“My life is short. I am perilously mortal. Your life will be long and you will do great things. And you will do them free of Nightmare Moon’s shadow. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to destroy her, even if it means my own end. I am going to die anyway. Nothing can stop that. I accept that. And I can either die as an old pony, knowing you live trapped in shadow, or I can offer up whatever is left of my brief existence to try and free you. Of course, I would rather die an old pony many many years after I destroy that bitch.” Rookwood chuckled. He couldn’t help it. The sound escaped his lips. It was defiant and angry sounding in the dim room.

“I am so confused. This started off with a love sick colt willing to follow me into shadow, and now it seems, I am contemplating following you into the utter outer darkness.” Luna’s voice wavered, full of confusion, fear, and doubt.

“The light died for me on Hearth’s Warming.” Rookwood confessed. He paused, thoughtful, collecting his mind. “I had the most wonderful dream. I was a rabbit. I was in beautiful green fields. I was in the sun again. I ate clover. I had toes. I saw the beautiful colours of the day. And then, a bird of prey took me, broke my body, and dropped me from up high. I splattered into the earth and died. And my only regret during the whole dream was leaving my rabbit hole and stepping into the light. I was Mr. Bun and my adventure did not end well.”

Luna shivered.

“You mustn’t put our foal in danger. If I should ever go into a place where you have doubts that you can follow, stay in the light. Leave me to the end of my own choosing. Nightmare Moon mustn’t have you or the foal. I worry.” Rookwood confessed.

Rookwood once again found himself in the body of Mr. Bun. He wasn’t even aware that he had dozed off. Just a moment ago, he had been snuggling Violet, who was looking even better. Ears were beginning to form.

The world was sunny and verdant. His rabbit hole was nowhere to be seen. The sky was a vivid shade of blue, a colour that Rookwood had not seen for quite some time now. It was a colour he feared was lost to him. The sweet smell of honeysuckle tickled his wiggling little bunny nose, causing it to twitch.

He began to explore, looking upwards constantly, worried now about raptors. The sky seemed raptor free for the time being. There were no birds at all in fact. There was no bird song to fill the air. Rookwood the rabbit prowled the meadow, seeing trees in the distance, a mound, and way off on the other side of the meadow, he saw the fence and the lane where ponies walked and pulled carts.

The grass was cool and damp pressing up against his belly. It tickled his little rabbit pecker, causing delightful sensations to travel up and down his spine, making his hips quiver.

He tried to exit the dream and found that he could not.

Rookwood felt a vague sense of worry.

Apprehension caused different sensations to travel up and down his spine, and his little rabbit balls felt cold and prickly. His little cotton ball tail wiggled.

There was an odd tearing sound, like paper being pulled apart, and there was a white flash. A blue rabbit appeared in the meadow, not far away, and a strangely familiar purple rabbit popped into existence next to her. The purple rabbit was little… A little bun. A child rabbit. It didn’t look well. It looked malnourished and frail.

The blue rabbit looked at him curiously, and then began to look around at the world, her eyes wide and full of caution. Rookwood felt another shiver run through his body. The blue rabbit was very, very attractive for a rabbit. The little bun hopped over to him, smelling faintly of decay. She seemed happy, her little nose twitching, her ears flopping around wildly upon her head.

Off in the distance, there was a faint crackle of thunder. A grey cast was now in the sky, and clouds began to roll in.

The blue rabbit began to head for the tree line, hopping with surprising speed, and Rookwood gave chase. The little purple bun struggled to keep up, and Rookwood slowed, waiting for the little purple bun, who seemed grateful for Rookwood’s care and attention. A little wiggly nose pressed up against him briefly and they bounded away together.

When they reached the tree line, the sky had turned dark. The wind was picking up. The air had become cold. The blue rabbit seemed to be searching for something as the wind began to whip into a frenzy. Rookwood was nearly lifted off of his feet.

The blue rabbit found what she was looking for, and waved frantically. A hole, a space below the roots, a tiny den. Rookwood pushed the little purple bun in first, and then shoved the blue bun in against her will. She kicked and protested, even biting him at one point, drawing blood, but he ignored her protests and shoved her into the shallow den.

There was no room for Rookwood.

He stared down at her for a moment, and she stared back up at him. The wind began to pick up. There was a dull rumbling roar coming from someplace, it sounded like a locomotive barreling down the tracks. Rookwood’s ears whipped. The blue rabbit had grabbed him and was trying frantically to pull him into the hole, but he would not fit. He wrapped his forelegs around a tangled root and hung on for dear life, the wind now more powerful, and he saw why. A twister bore down on the treeline.

The blue rabbit screamed with panic, the horrible screams of rabbits. There was a crack overhead, and a large branch fell from the tree, landing on Rookwood, crushing one leg, causing shards and splinters of bone to emerge from his flesh.

The blue rabbit’s high pitched screams grew ever stronger in pitch and volume, her little blue paws digging at his fur, trying to draw Rookwood in, to hold him.

Rookwood felt his grip slipping. His leg burned with pain, the wind whistling over the jutting bone. He clung to the root with small rapidly weakening forelegs. The blue rabbit’s screams were piercing in his drooping floppy ears.

And then he was gone, sucked up into the twister, the blue rabbit’s screams fading rapidly in the roar of the wind. He swirled in the air, being tossed and thrashed around, powerless to stop the events taking place. A jagged bit of debris slashed his throat, ending his own screams, sending a geyser of blood spurting out into the wind, which wiped it into a fine mist.

Lightning cracked and crackled, and a bolt struck Rookwood directly, setting him ablaze. He burned as he was flung through the air, his life blood spurting from his throat, his mouth opened in a now silent scream, his air hissing from the jagged tear in his throat. And he was on fire, his every nerve flaring with agony.

He never felt himself smashing into the earth with a wet splat.

“Rookwood? Speak to me damn you!” Luna pleaded.

Rookwood raised a hoof and made a weak gesture. He could smell burning hair and his body was in agony. He was smoking slightly. Luna was holding Violet, pressed against her side. Rookwood could hear Violet sobbing.

“Water!” Rookwood croaked. “No… wine!”

Rookwood felt a cup pressed against his lips and he drank deeply, gulping it down, not feeling the warmth bloom in his throat. It was a strong red, something he was getting a taste for. He struggled in his chair, kicking out his hind legs, feeling searing sensation all over his skin. His leg ached. He was indeed, smoking slightly, but he was no burnt. No bones were broken. And his throat was whole.

“You stuffed me in the hole!” Luna said angrily.

“Shush.” Rookwood replied.

Luna glared at him, her eyes fierce. She bared her teeth. “That was needless and stupid. I could have endured that. Haven’t you suffered enough?”

“Shush.” Rookwood said again. “Or I will tell your sister.”

“Get stuffed Rookwood.” Luna snapped.

Violet whimpered. “Please don’t fight. He just wanted to keep you safe. He kept us safe.”

Luna’s face became guilty, and she turned and regarded the skinned foal at her side. He expression continued to soften. Rookwood held his cup in his own hooves, guzzling the contents down. He felt dizzy and lightheaded.

“You just drifted off.” Luna said. “And fell into shadow. I grabbed Violet before you dropped her. She came into the dreamscape with us. How odd.” Luna poured more wine for Rookwood.

Rookwood continued to drink. A sane part of his mind told him that drinking this much when he had eaten so little was bad idea, but that voice had grown quiet and easy to ignore.

“I love you.” Rookwood announced. “Entirely and completely. I regret nothing.”

Luna was shocked into silence.

Violet squirmed and made a low pitched squeal. She sounded strangely happy.

“I love you as well Rookwood.” Luna finally said, her tone deep and full of fear, her voice trembling as though she was confessing something terrible.

Author's Notes:

Feeling brave? Go and find a rabbit screaming video...