Anton scrambled to his feet clumsily, his eyes still fixed upon the place where the winged man had been just moments ago. He couldn’t comprehend what he had just seen, and he couldn’t help his mouth from hanging open in awe and his eyes being wide from fear. He could feel his entire body trembling, not knowing if it came from the cold, or something else.

Humans don’t have wings. The mere thought of it was utterly ridiculous, insane even.

But what he’d seen had been real, he was sure of it. Still, he found a voice deep in the back of his head wondering whether or not he was completely losing his mind. Even though this skeleton of a city seemed to be teeming with mysteries and things he didn’t understand, this took the fucking cake. Never mind those talking ponies or that thing in the cloak shop, that was nothing compared to this.

His mind and body had no idea how to react, and so he just stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the empty space of air between the buildings as the black feathers sailed to the ground around him. He lost track of time, the concept itself all but lost on him as seconds warped into minutes, hours and days, before coming back to seconds yet again, the thought of time blown away by the image of that hooded face.

Could it… really have been him?

Lost in his own thoughts, he never noticed the figure approaching him from his right side, never heard the sound of steps in the snow as it drew nearer. He didn’t look down when the red figure walked up right next to him and stood there; looking up at his own hooded face. For all his body and mind knew, the world around him had ceased to be the moment those wings emerged from the cloaked man.

Could it really have been Mattias?

Anton? Hello? Can you hear me? Say something, damn it!

He heard a voice right next to him, but it sounded more like a whisper, coming from somewhere far away, as if a spirit was calling to him from beyond the grave. It kept on whispering to him, each word and sentence flowing together into an endless stream of nothingness, ancient words that he did not understand.

Slowly, a different sensation crept its way into his head. An abnormal being from somewhere far beyond that intruded into his mind, a creature as red as fresh blood. It cut through the whispers of empty whispers and latched on to his feeble mind, threatening to crack through him any moment, bearing down on him like waves upon waves of oblivion.

It took him a while to realise that this creature, this horrid, red abomination, was in fact a manifestation of pain which slowly grew within his mind. He tried to think clearer, tried to locate the source of it. He didn’t have to look for long; it came from the side of his right hand.

Snapped out of his thoughts by this pain, Anton looked down at his hand.

A pair of dark cerise eyes met his own, partially hidden being locks of rainbow hair. Willow looked at him with unsure eyes, his teeth clamping down around the ridge of Anton’s hand. He quickly yanked it out of the pony’s mouth, and took a few steps back, pulling his hand to his chest out of instinct as he did.

“Vad fan håller du på med?” He asked, looking over the pony before him. “My hand is not a fucking chew toy!”

“I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” Willow said back to him. “You were just standing there, staring at nothing.”

Anton shook his hand slightly before taking a look at it, a clear band of teeth marks adorning its side, coupled with what he guessed to be pony saliva. He quickly turned away from Willow and wiped his hand on his cloak.

“Pale like ashes, you were.” Willow continued. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost or something.”

While he talked, Anton contemplated in his head whether he should tell him about what he saw or not, and after a very brief consideration, he decided on the latter. The red Pegasus behind him had obviously already gone through enough without him worrying about… whatever that man was.

“Heh. There it is again.” Anton said with a quiet chuckle, unsure why he even did so. “Ashes. It’s been everywhere since I woke up.” He took a quick peek down unto his jacket. “And I’m still covered in it. What the hell does it want from me anyway…?”

Willow didn’t respond.

“I mean, why ashes?” Anton said as he slowly turned to face the pony. “Snow would’ve made more sense-“

He stopped dead in his tracks once he’d turned around. His heart wasn’t sure whether to beat frantically or stop altogether, and instead seemed to settle for momentary onslaughts of trying to break through his ribs. The pain it caused him made his head spin.

Willow wasn’t there.

Not a single trace, nothing that proved the pony had ever been there. Not even hoof prints in the snow. Still shivering, Anton slowly raised his hand to his face. No bite mark. No glistening saliva. Just a cold hand, bearing not a single stain of the previous encounter.

Anton felt his mind scream in fear at him, but he forced it to remain there. His breathing became sharper and his heart sped up violently, and suddenly, the hand he was looking at turned into two, both see-through and pale. The ground beneath him begun to spin together with the world around him, and he found himself staggering, almost falling over.

Now, he was sure he was about to lose his mind. Something had snapped somewhere, and he thought he’d been talking to a ghost. Whether that was true or if it had just been a delusion brought on him as an effect of recent events, he really didn’t like the thought of Willow as a spirit. The thought of Willow, dead. A talking pony that he barely knew and he already cared about the damn animal. He told himself that he would never get himself a pet, if he ever made it back home alive.

And then as quickly as the nausea and panic had begun, it disappeared, in the blink of an eye. His fears and worries remained as strong as ever, but at least he regained control of his composure. His heartbeat seemed to slow down, just enough for the pain in his ribs to subside, and it helped him to calm his breathing as well.

Even though he couldn’t stop panic from setting in, but at least he could understand why. He thought that he’d been almost too calm and collected despite the things he’d been through, and felt surprised that he hadn’t turned into a crying, broken heap already.

Perhaps that would come later. Maybe his own mind would tear him to pieces, but not this day.

Finally calmed, he shot one last glance at the skies between the buildings above him, picturing those wings in his mind. He wasn’t sure if it had been his brother or not, after all, he moved with almost inhuman speed and dexterity, and what Crescent had said earlier still weighed heavy on him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the true identity of the man anymore. It felt wrong, somehow, like he wasn’t even supposed to know.

Anton was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by a piercing shriek, tearing through the cold air around him. He spun around and looked, but saw nobody, or no pony. Just the infinite canvas of snow and ice covering the broken walls of the buildings around him.

The shriek came back, this time louder, high pitched. The more he listened to it, the more he felt like he could understand it. A third scream told him it was definitely a female, and he was sure that whoever she was, she was screaming in fear.

What about Lilly?

The words Willow had spoken echoed in his mind as they came to him, and he quickly put it together with what he was hearing. Could it be this… Lilly, that he had asked about? Whoever it was, he couldn’t just leave her out here. The ponies had come to his aid, albeit slightly unwillingly, but help they offered nonetheless. The least he could do was to return the favor.

Still with the screaming ringing in his ears, Anton hurried off to where he thought the sound was coming from, hoping he wasn’t too late, or that once he reached the source of the cry, that he wouldn’t see something he didn’t want to see.

As he once again found himself running through the winding alleyways of the town, he felt himself drawing closer to the sound as it grew in volume. It became so loud it almost hurt his ears.

Rounding a corner, he stopped as he reached the end of the line, the source of all that shouting. While the scene before him wasn’t as bad as he had feared, it still made his eyes go wide in shock.

Two ponies where in front of him, one on its back on the ground, and another standing over it. The one on the ground was struggling to keep the other, pale one away, and they were both covered in blood. The screaming came from the pony on the ground, shouting in abject terror.

The one on top suddenly pressed two of its legs down on the other pony’s throat, snuffing out most pf the screaming, turning it into hacks and wheezes instead. Anton made a move against the duo, instantly catching the pale pony’s attention.

When it looked up on him, and Anton saw its face, he understood why the other pony had been screaming in such terror. The blood covered face looked straight at him, and he had to force down a shriek of his own.

Within seconds, the pale pony was on him.

Lilly couldn’t feel her body. Everything around her was numb and gone, her mind a single solitary soul, floating along in the currents of oblivion, leading into an abyss of emptiness and shadows. She knew she was dead, she could feel it. Or rather, she couldn’t feel it; couldn’t feel life coursing through her like she used to, couldn’t feel the warm breath within her. She was dead, in every way imaginable.

And she only felt relief.

All she could see was the knife cutting into flesh, and his pale green eyes rolling into the back of his head. Duskshine. All the blood. The pain, the misery. As the stream carried her onwards, she was glad, knowing that soon, the tormented face of her friend would be gone from her mind forever. Perhaps she would meet him when she finally reached the end of this journey. Perhaps she’d be happy.

Lilly opened her eyes.

The abyss surrounding her crept away, giving way to bright light, pure as silver. Slowly, she blinked. The light persisted, shining straight through her eyelids, strong as the sun itself. She remembered the books she once read, about the princesses of old that once ruled Equestria. Luna, the ruler of the moon and watcher of the night. And Celestia, rightful ruler of the sun itself, sovereign of the day.

She found herself hoping that the bright light was that of this princess, her divine radiance descending to carry her into beyond, into the bright light and far away, to a place with no more pain and suffering. Lilly wanted to go with the princess so badly, and leave this horrible world which she had come to hate.

A cloud suddenly drifted in from out of nowhere and covered the light. Lilly blinked again, slowly realizing that it was in fact the sun itself shining down upon her, not the princess. Once she realized this, her body came back to her, instant pain covering every inch of her tiny being. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry.

Still alive.

She wanted to lay there forever, lie in the snow, staring into the sun, until the cold claimed her and put her to rest. As she lay on the cold ground, she felt herself crying, weeping like a baby. Letting go off herself, she scrunched her face together, crying and sobbing as she tucked her legs hard against her body. Lilly rolled over on her side, tears still streaming from her eyes, the green eyes of Duskshine still vivid in her mind.

Her cries went from quiet sobbing to loud wailing as she rocked herself back and forth in her own embrace, wanting nothing more than to fall through the ground and into nothingness. She chocked and wheezed as her throat clogged up and snot escaped her nostrils, mixing together with her tears. She didn’t bother to wipe any of it away.

No longer caring about anything or anyone, she lost control of her body as her sobbing caused ripples of pain to course through her, her muscles twitching and contorting with each and every breath. She lost track of time, didn’t care about it. Nothing mattered, only the green eyes in her mind.

Lilly wrapped herself in her tattered old cloak, a cocoon to shield her from the cruel clutches of reality. It was all she had left now, the only thing that offered her comfort, no matter how minute it was. She didn’t own much in the world, but her cloak and her hat were the ones most important to her, the only things she had that could be connected to the memories of her former life. The only mementos of her real mother, and later, her adoptive mother. Now the hat was gone, but at least she had the cloak still.

Things should’ve been different, not like this. All of this should never have happened, her life should’ve been normal. In a perfect world, she would live with her parents, Applebloom and Duskshine somewhere far away from everything, just them and nopony else. She would’ve been happy with such a life, but instead, the life she has was and bitter, lonely and hollow.

Out of nowhere, she felt something poke her in her back. The sensation came so suddenly and so abruptly that at first, she didn’t even realize it was real, thinking it was just more pain from her memories. When the poking became harder, she couldn’t ignore it any longer, and tossed herself around on the ground to face whoever was doing it.

She was greeted by a pale face with equally pale eyes, a mad grin plastered beneath them, yellowed teeth gritted at her. She recognized the face in the blink of an eye, and instantly wanted to run. It was the bleak pony that had held her down and tried to strangle her earlier, right before Duskshine…

“Cry all you want, little filly. Nopony’s here to hear you.”

Before she had time to move, the Bleaker throw himself over her. Despite her instinctive struggling, he was much stronger than her, and her body had been weakened by the fall, and she found her strength failing her.

He pinned her down, standing over her like an executioner, that grin still playing across his face. He seemed to almost enjoy her tears and crying.

“Did you love him?”

Slowly, he leaned in closer to her face, not breaking eye contact.

“I bet you did, didn’t you?”

His breath made Lilly nauseous, but she couldn’t get away, couldn’t squirm out from his grip.

“Did you see how he…. Changed?” The Bleaker’s smile somehow grew wider. “Did you see it?”

Lilly couldn’t help but whimper a tiny “Yes.”

“That black, scaly skin and bug wings. Oh-hoh, I bet he cared so much for you, didn’t he? That’s how they feed, you know. Off of the love and emotions of other ponies. That’s what keeps them alive, his… kind.”

Lilly’s body trembled more and more the longer the Bleaker talked, and she felt her insides twist.

“They need it, love. It’s like a drug to them. Did you really think he ever cared about you, you stupid filly?”

Lilly started screaming, but she didn’t even register in her mind what she was screaming. Nothing but inane shouting and shrieks as the Bleakers words sunk into her. She begun thrashing wildly beneath him, trying to get away, trying to drown out his words.

“Did he ever say that he loved you?”

“Shut up!”

She couldn’t take it anymore, she refused to believe him, it was all lies and deceit, as far from the truth as anything. With new-found strength, she arched herself upwards in an attempt to get free, which instead caused her to involuntarily headbutt the Bleaker, but something felt odd when they connected. There was a slight resistance, and the Bleaker instantly yelled in pain, a bit too much for such a simple injury.

Something warm ran down her horn and into her eyes.

The Bleaker stumbled away from her, and Lilly rushed to her hooves. In horror, she saw the state of his face, and understood what had happened. He clutched his right eye with his fore hooves, blood pouring out from between his hooves and down his chest. He toppled over on his back legs and fell into the snow, writhing and screaming in agony. In a moment of sheer shock, she felt sorry for him, despite what he’d done, what he was.

Then she snapped out of it and turned around to make a dash for it. Before she took one step, she felt the Bleaker behind her, stepping on her cloak. She pushed him off, and heard the fabric of her cloak tear as she pried herself from his grip.

“I’ll gut you, you little cunt!”

The Bleaker screamed in anger behind her as she rushed away from him, her heart beating a mile a minute. Her breath was erratic, her entire body shaking and her stomach twisting. She could hear the pale pony behind her, still not giving up his pursuit. She had to do something, and fast, or else he’d catch up to her and do goddess knows what to her.

In an attempt to shake him, she dashed through an open door into what looked like a storage magazine, and hurried across the concrete floor, her hooves clanking loudly as she ran. Still, he came after her, the sound of his hooves joining hers in a cacophony of loud clopping sounds. He roared in anger behind her.

Lilly darted around a corner and came into a hallway lined with several doors on each side, and quickly, she jumped in through a door on the right, hoping it would shake him off. She pressed herself against a nearby wall and crouched down, pushed her cloak up over her snout in an attempt to keep quiet.

She heard him rush by the door, heard his jagged breathing as he stopped halfway down the corridor, probably looking around, trying to figure out which door she took.

“An eye for an eye, girl!” He roared out in the hallway. “We’re gonna have so much fun, you and I!”

Lilly jumped from fear as she heard him kick in a door somewhere close by. It became harder to breathe steadily, and she tried her best to keep quiet.

“You’re gonna be begging to die when I find you, you little-“

His last word was drowned out by another loud bang as he kicked open a second door. Lilly felt more tears stream down her face. The tiny slither inside her mind, that basic survival instinct had carried her here, despite her wishes for her life to be over. It was all a cruel game. Perhaps she should just let him kill her and be done with it. It would be the end of her pain, at least.

In the hallway, the Bleaker kept on opening doors, now in silence, drawing closer to hers by the minute. She was sure he took as long as he could, toying with her, playing his little game. A power rush, getting enjoyment out of her fear.

And then suddenly, the hallway became quiet. Silent as a grave, not a single sound reaching her ears for what felt like several minutes. Unnaturally quiet, even, and Lilly hoped dearly that he had given up, for some reason.

Slowly, she stood up, her eyes pinned to the door. Taking short, trembling steps, she made her way towards the door, trying to shut out the tiny voice in the back of her head telling her to stay away. She wasn’t thinking straight, but her mind was too unraveled for her to even realize it. Lilly approached the door, and gently placed her ear against the wooden surface. She heard nothing, not a sound. She let out a sigh of relief, her terrified mind thinking he’d given up.

The next second, the door broke down in an explosion that sent splinters flying everywhere as the Bleaker ran straight through. It pushed Lilly backwards, but she managed to stay on all four hooves without falling to the ground.

Without a word, he threw himself over her again, rearing up on his hind legs, ready to rain down pain upon her. Not knowing what she was doing, Lilly’s body kicked into autopilot and reared up as well to face him. They clashed their faces together, their front legs entangling as they both struggled against the other.

They wobbled back and forth, neither about to give up, both trying their hardest to push the other on their back. As much as Lilly wanted to run, her body was fighting by itself, running on gears she never knew she had. She was forced to stare into the face of her pursuer, his right eye mutilated and bleeding heavily. In her attempts to push him away, that blood transferred over to her as well, coating her face and neck, leaving a sickening smell of iron in her nostrils.

She felt her back press up against a wall, probably a window, and for a brief, fleeting moment, she thought it was over, that she was done for. Then for the second time that day, her body shattered the glass and she fell backwards through the window frame, followed by the Bleaker, still holding on to her.

Screaming, she felt shards of glass cut into her body as they both rolled over the ground just outside the window, her body now spent and ready to give up, the struggle and the pain proving too much for her. She screamed over and over as they rolled around, still offering up just a slither of resistance. It wasn’t much at all, but even the Bleaker had become weakened, and her feeble attempts somehow proved to give her a fighting chance.

They came to a stop suddenly, she on her back in the snow and the Bleaker on top of her. He pinned her down for a while before rising up above her, that horrid grin from before back across his face, looking even worse now thanks to his injured eye.

He breathed heavy and stared down on her, blood still oozing from his right eye. Some of it dripped down on her face, and again, Lilly couldn’t contain a shriek. The pony over her had, somewhere along the line, snapped completely, that mad face bearing down on her death a death sentence.

Lilly screamed in both fear and disgust as he blinked, and his mutilated eye moved slightly within its socket. Despite her desperate struggle, she knew it was over for her, there was no point in trying anymore, and she let herself break down yet again, no longer caring, crying like before.

Then without warning, the Bleaker on top of her jerked its head back upwards, and looked to its left. Lilly watched in confusion as the pale pony, for some strange reason, left her and darted off somewhere else. She didn’t care where he went, she was utterly and completely spent, her body a complete wreck of pain. She just laid there; staring off into the skies above, hoping the pain from the glass shards would go away.

Somewhere off in the distance, she heard the sounds of struggle, heard someone grunting and shouting. She didn’t care about it, too weak.

She heard someone call out her name.

The bloodied pony rushed towards Anton, glaring madly, it’s only remaining eye filled with nothing but pure rage. For the short fragment of a moment it took for it to reach him, Anton stood dumbfounded, thinking back to home and the countless movies filled with raging hordes of mad zombies.

Not to mention that he never expected to see a pony in a state such as this. Somehow, it didn’t feel natural.

Anton was thrown to the ground when the pony launched itself at him and wrapped its fore legs around his throat. As his back hit the cold ground, he snapped out of his thoughts and reacted to what was happening, instantly trying to fight back out of pure instinct.

He was surprised by how strong the pony was, and that it had managed to throw him over, despite only being half his size. The man and the pony rolled around on the ground, both shouting at each other; Anton trying to calm the pony or make it stop, while it only answered by shouting obscenities into his face.

Despite the pony being so taken over by animalistic rage, Anton didn’t want to hurt it, or worse, kill it. His mind told him that no matter what it did, it was still just an animal, and he’d never hurt an animal. Instead he only tried to pry it off of him, but it was proving harder than he thought.

The rabid creature refused to let go off his throat no matter how he pushed and fought, but at least its grip was weakening just slightly as the struggle went on. Both combatants slowly became more fatigued the longer they went on.

They rolled around yet again, but came to a stop as they both slammed into a wall, the impact knocking all breath out of Anton’s lungs for a brief moment. The pony still holding him slid to the side and hit its head against the wall, and toppled to the side, letting go of his neck in the process.

Anton shot up, propping himself on his elbows, greedily drawing in as much air as he possibly could. When he did, he caught a glimpse of the other pony, the one that had been screaming earlier. She was still on the ground in the exact same place, looking up into the skies with a hollow expression on her face. His first thought was that she was dead, and whoever she was, he didn’t want to see a pony dead

“Lilly!” He shouted to the lifeless pony, despite not knowing if it even was her, but it was the only female name he’d heard since he came here, so he just assumed it was her. “Lilly, can you hea-aaah!”

His last call turned into a shriek of pain as he felt something warm and sharp sink into the side of his neck. He tried to spin around, only to realize that the pale pony held him in a vice-like grip and refused to let him go. Its jagged teeth bore into his flesh, and he tried to get it off, but to no use.

Like a savage dog, the pony started to trash its head back and forth, trying to cause more damage to him. The assault took Anton completely by surprise, and the pony yanked him down unto his back, still tearing at his throat. He grabbed the snout in an attempt to get it off, and he felt warm blood run down between his fingers.

With every thought of not harming an animal tossed straight out the window, he frantically looked around for something to defend himself with. A few meters off to his right he could see a frozen pile of what looked to be building bricks, and while there wasn’t any guarantee he’d be able to get ahold of one, it was his only chance.

Anton moved his hand from the snout and instead started to punch his fists as hard as he could into it, but it was hard to get any force behind his blows in such an angle, on his back. Getting an idea, he quickly tucked up his legs and tried his best to place his feet flat on the ground, and did the same with his hands.

Red handprints painted the snow around him and with a cry of pain, Anton pushed himself off the ground and unto his feet. The pony lost its grip on his throat and fell to the ground behind him, but before it got another chance to pounce him, Anton rushed towards the pile of bricks.

He ducked down on his knees, frantically looking for a brick that wasn’t frozen solid, but there was none. Panicked, Anton ran his hands across the stone, trying to get hold of one that he could hopefully pry loose. He quickly found one, and started to pull.

No more than a second later, he saw movement in the corner of his eye, and then the pony launched itself on him again.

They both toppled to the left, and as they did, Anton felt the brick loosen, and he tightened his grip around it as they tumbled to the ground.

Somehow, he managed to push away the now weakened pony and rose to his knees, panting heavily, having trouble breathing. His entire body ached from pain and fatigue, but he forced himself to push it aside. He raised the hand holding the brick, ready to attack. He wasn’t about to let some insane animal kill him, like he was nothing but prey.

The pale pony rushed him again.

Anton swung the brick as hard as he could.

It was all over, just as fast as it had started. His hand clocked the pony straight in the side of its head with a loud, cracking sound, and the force of the impact almost numbed Anton’s entire arm and the pony fell to the ground with a whimper as blood painted the snow in dark streaks.

Anton scrambled to his feet and dropped the brick. His breathing was erratic and fast, his widened eyes looking at the now meek creature before him, whimpering and shuddering in a building pool of its own blood. He didn’t feel any sort of accomplishment or relief that he’d just cheated death, all he felt when he looked down on the pony was sadness and guilt.

He had to look away, and hope deep inside that he didn’t kill it, that it would survive. He didn’t want to think about what he’d been forced to do, nor did he want to life with its death on his shoulders.

To block out those thoughts, and to push away the image of the writhing and whimpering pony, Anton instead hurried over to the other pony, whom he still assumed to be the Lilly that the other’s had mentioned earlier.

She remained where she’d been just moments prior, on her back, staring into space. Anton made his way over to her, still panting and his lungs feeling like burning coals. He tripped and fell to his knees next to her, but didn’t bother to stand up, his body feeling like lead.

“L-Lilly?” He managed to ask between panting breaths.

She didn’t answer, but Anton registered her head moving slightly in the tiniest of nods. Her big eyes remained half shut, but they didn’t move to look at him. At least she moved, acknowledged that he was there and that she could hear him. Strands of her white mane covered part of her face, and some sort of horn protruded from her forehead, its tip covered in dry blood.

“What the hell happened to you…?” Still no response came from her, and no more movements. “Are you hurt?” Slowly, the pony shook her head.

Anton took a peak over his shoulder, and both to his relief and anguish, found the pale pony to now be still and no longer moving, coated in its own blood. He turned back to Lilly, wishing dearly to just leave that place, leave behind all the blood.

“I… I met Willow.” Anton said slowly, his mouth feeling dry as he spoke. “And that other one… Crescent. He wanted my help in finding you and the others, so… Here, I am, I guess.”

“…. I don’t care.”

The words that left Lilly’s mouth were low, nothing more than a meek little whisper, yet Anton’s ears still heard them.

“We should get out of here…” Anton said. “Get you back to those… was it Stalkers he called them?”

“I don’t care.” Lilly repeated herself.

“Well, I can’t just leave you here. I promised Crescent to help-“

“I don’t care.”

Anton let out a deep sigh, before standing up slowly. He had no idea how to talk to her or how to react to her words.

“Look.” He said to her. “Can you walk? Or do you want me to carry you? Either way, I’m sure as hell not leaving you here alone.” He quickly pointed to the bloodied pony behind him. “If there’s more like him out there, we need to get as far away from here as fucking possible.”

Suddenly, Lilly’s eyes sprang into motion and pinned themselves right into his own.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

“Fine, fine, you don’t give a shit!” Anton said before reaching down and wrapping his arms around her. “But I fucking do!” He hoisted her up in his arms and did his best to wrap the tattered cloak she wore around her. “And I never want to see another pony dead.”

He pinned his eyes on his tracks so that he wouldn’t have to look on the presumably dead pony, and started to trace his own steps backward. Surprisingly, Lilly hadn’t resisted being carried at all, and just hung limply in his arms. He’d expected her to protest and squirm like a cat trying to get free, but instead, it was as if he was carrying a corpse, completely lifeless.

Not saying another word, he hurried back the way he came, doing his best to follow his footsteps.

After a few minutes, he felt a small shiver course through the tiny body in his arms, and he looked down on her. Tears had begun to stream from her eye. Anton stopped and just looked at her. It was like holding a young baby, in that you had no idea why it cried. But at least she wasn’t wailing like an infant, just silently sobbing.

Then Lilly opened her eyes and looked up at him with quivering lips.

“He’s not dead, right?” She spoke, her voice frail and fragile. “I can still bring him back, can’t I?”

“… I don’t know. Who are you talking about?”

Once again, Lilly clamped her eyes shut and refused to say anything else. Anton started walking again. After a few more minutes, they emerged into the open street, and Anton stopped dead in his tracks. He stopped right where they ended, not a single foot print to be seen anywhere else. New snow had probably fallen and buried his prints, and now there was no way he’d ever be able to find his way back. Suddenly, he felt his legs tremble a little bit, coupled with a sharp feeling of nausea.

Muttering a few curses, he sat Lilly down on the side next to a wall before sitting down himself, putting his back against the wall.

“Looks like we’re lost…” He said, more to himself than to Lilly, as he observed that was descending over the skyline of buildings. “And the sun is almost gone. Great.”

Of course, Lilly didn’t respond. Anton sighed in frustration and an attempt to hide his fear. He shuffled slightly in his seat, and when he did, pain shot up through his neck, reminding him of the bite from earlier. He quickly place a hand over it, and found it almost covered in blood. In his rush of adrenaline, he forgot all about the wound, and now he was paying the price.

“… he feeds on love, I can save him…”

Anton heard Lilly mumble something to herself, but he couldn’t make out all of the words. For some reason, the bite wound was bleeding too much for such a simple wound, and him ignoring it for so long was causing him to become faint. He pressed his hand against the wound, but the blood wouldn’t let up.

Slowly, he felt his body go numb, and the rays of the setting sun started to blur together with the bright snow. He turned and tried to talk to Lilly, tried to get her to look at him and see what was happening, but she was all wrapped up in her cloak, idly muttering, not present at the moment. She was far away in her own delusions, and soon, Anton thought, he’d be too.

He fell on his side, and his head hit something soft and warm. He had enough consciousness to guess that it was probably the pony, and he hope that his tumble didn’t hurt her.

As Anton let his eyelids slowly fall shut, his thoughts went to his brother, and there they remained until there was nothing left but darkness.