The room was small, incredibly small. It was barely more than a hidden compartment under a bed, yet the three of them were cramped into it, along with some food and water.

This was their fifth day down there. They stank, they had barely ate the meager food provided for them, and they were coated in their own waste. The stallion that had foalnapped them, a large, brutish unicorn with a teal coat and slightly darker mane and tail, his Cutie Mark concealed by the black cape he wore, had shoved them down there after defiling them. He had come back two days ago and defiled them again. The colt with them had simply been unlucky enough to be playing with the fillies when they had been foalnapped, and been forced to watch them as they were subjugated to his raw, animalistic, primal desires.

They knew he would be coming again tonight. Just enough time for the fillies to stop feeling sore in their… special areas. The two fillies were scared. It hurt when he did his thing. They didn’t want to feel that pain again, that pain that came when he was inside of them. The colt didn’t want to watch them go through it again. If anything, seeing what the two fillies went through was just as painful to him as it was to them. The three had grown close together, and seeing them hurt pained him.

They heard the door open and close. He was back. The two fillies cowered behind the colt, who stood up and took a defensive stance in front of them. Soon, the bed was shoved over to the side, and the latch was opened up.

Almost before it was fully opened, the colt leapt up and tackled the far larger stallion with surprising strength. He shouted to the two fillies to run, and they stormed out of the room, out of the shed at the edge of the Whitetail Woods, out of the place that had brought so much suffering to them. The Unicorn and Pegasus ran as fast as they could, until they collapsed from exhaustion at the edge of a river. There, they drank the fresh water, taking in large mouthfuls that carved an icy route down their throats. Wildflowers were in bloom, and they ate them up, filling their stomachs almost to bursting.

They heard rustling from the direction they had come from. The two of them immediately leapt into nearby bushes, hiding. When the colt that had been with them stumbled through, multiple cuts and bruises covering him, various bits of metal and wood sticking out of him, and blood matting his coat, the two fillies came out and helped him over to the river. While he feebly drank the icy cold water, the fillies gathered all the flowers and greens they could find, and helped him eat.

“Are you alright?” the Unicorn asked. “How did you get away?”

“I didn't," the Earth Pony answered. "I didn't get away from him. I... I killed him."

He couldn't take it anymore. The colt, who had always been brave for them, who always did his best to make them smile, broke down in tears, right in front of them. The two fillies moved to comfort their friend, ignoring the blood all over him. He did seem to take some comfort in their presence, although it barely put a dent in the flow of tears.

"It's okay, it's okay," the Pegasus cooed. "You don't have to cry. You did the right thing. He would have just come after us, or some other poor fillies."

"Then why does it hurt so bad?" he asked. "Why can I still hear his screams? Why do I still want to vomit when I remember the sickening sound of his neck breaking?"

"That just means you're a good pony," The Unicorn responded. "Killing isn't something that you should enjoy. You wouldn't have been any better than him if you did."

For five minutes, they just lay there, the colt crying while the two fillies comforted him.