A forest grew up around her, birch trees sprouted up towards the sky with leaves green as emeralds. The grass around her hooves swayed lightly in the breeze, creating the image of waves across a vast green ocean. The breeze gently stroked her chin, and Lilly closed her eyes and smiled. As she opened them again, the sun was high in the sky, spreading its rays through the leaves above her.

Lilly sighed contently at the sight, and took a deep breath. Her nostrils got filled with the smell of the forest around her. The smell of fresh sap from the trees, the smell of grass beneath her hooves. And above all else, that special undetermined smell of sun and summer. The thick smell that always accompanies the warmth of the summer months. Sometimes so strong it burns your throat, the same way it freezes in the winter.

Like you’re quite literally breathing the rays of the sun, feeling it fill your lungs and sending surges of happiness throughout your veins.

And as Lilly observed the beautiful nature around her, with the ever-growing chirping of birds in the distance, that feel of radiant happiness slowly grew into an almost orgasmic blissfulness that coated her mind like waves washing over a perfect shore, caressing the part of her one might refer to as soul. She allowed her mind to bask in this harmonic heaven of green, and her body sank down into the grass beneath her, the many straws stroking against her soft, blue fur.

With another deep sigh she leaned on her side and rolled around on her back. The soft grass tickled her back and a few seeds flew up into the air above her as her tail and mane brushed by a few dandelions dotting the green ground. A strand of white hair entered her vision and covered her left eye. Not wanting to move, she tried to blow it out of her eye with her breath, and after a few attempts her mane disappeared from her sight.

Lilly…

The rays of the sun faded slowly as a black object floated in from nowhere and covered it. Eventually, nothing but a black spot with a golden rim around it remained. Just looking at it made her feel intoxicated.

Lilly…

Suddenly, her body felt warm, getting warmer by the second. Her skin vibrated and her ears perked as if they’d heard something that she herself could not fathom. Lilly rolled around in the grass, believing the warmth to be nothing but the result of staying in the sun for too long. But the warmth didn’t go away, it only grew.

The unicorn stood up slowly, her legs stiff and sore. She drew in another breath as she stretched her legs, but something felt wrong with the air that entered her nostrils. She couldn’t smell the flowers anymore. Something burned her snout as she inhaled it, causing her to cough, feeling her throat burn the same way.

Smoke.

All around her, the beautiful and lush forest had caught fire. The leaves of the oaks and birch trees smouldered, their jagged edges glowing brightly as embers flew around them in the wind. The tree trunks had turned black, and the grass beneath her hooves has been reduced to ashes.

You should have saved me.

Duskshine rose up from underneath the ashes before her. The grey dust of charred trees flowed off of his body like waterfall, stirring up clouds of smoke as it hit the ground. His voice was raspy and devoid of any life, sounding like he was just reading a line from a script. Unnatural.

Lilly was paralyzed to do anything as the dirty stallion came closer; his skin stretching over his bones like it was too tight, threatening to burst any minute. She could see his ribs clearly as his skin strained around them, and his jaw rattled slightly as he yet again spoke to her with his hollow voice.

Why didn’t you save me, Lilly? I thought you cared for me.

Before her eyes, Duskshine began trembling. His entire body twitched beyond control as the spasms grew. Suddenly, his eyeballs lit up bright as sunshine, just moments before they burst into flames, green flames burning like the forest around them.

The skin on his bones started moving, pulsating as it boiled itself from the inside. Unable to scream or move, Lilly was forced to watch bubbles build up and burst in the skin of her friend, forced to watch as his eyes finally popped from the immense heat eating away at them.

Then, she felt the warmth inside her own body build up, move into her head.

Her vision disappeared in a sudden outburst of green flames.

A loud banging noise filled Lilly’s ears as she slowly opened her eyes. At first she almost thought she’d gone blind due to the pitch blackness and blurriness of her vision, but then realized her eyes was just adjusting to the lack of sunlight around her. Before she could see her surroundings, she was almost convinced that the banging sound was her neighbors going at it again, and she was back home in her bed.

Except the hard and cold surface she rested on effectively erased that somewhat comforting illusion. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know where she actually was.

The banging noise didn’t stop, instead becoming louder as more time passed. Slowly, her eyes adjusted themselves, and after a while she could see the lines of what appeared to be bars in front of her, like in a cell. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was dead, locked away forever in the depths of whatever awaited her.

Lilly blinked, and saw a movement in the corner of her eye.

Moving her head slowly, she could see something or somepony sitting next to the bars just a few inches away from here. Another blink, and red fur became visible in the dank room. Then the colours of the rainbow decorating a filthy, unkempt mane.

It was Willow, half sitting, half lying down, his side resting against the wall, and one of his hooves banging against the bars. From what little that Lilly could see of the Pegasus, he looked even worse than he did when she met him. If he looked like a moping willow before, he now looked like the charred remains of that willow.

His eyes tired, staring off into nothingness as he kept on hitting the bars they were held behind. His wings hanging freely off of his body, spread out on the floor, his wings hanging freely off of his body, spread out on the floor in a way that Lilly thought looked painful.

It was at this point that Lilly first began to wonder where they were. She’d been so occupied with trying to make anything out in the darkness that she didn’t even realize what was actually going on. They were held prisoner for some reason, but she had no idea by whom.

Lilly rolled around on the floor, whimpering quietly as her snout hit against a wall right next to her.

“Lilly, was that you? Are you awake?”

The whisper came quietly to her from somewhere within the darkness, calling to her with a worried town behind its words. A voice she knew all too well, and her heart stopped.

“… Duskshine?”

Images of the stallion filled her mind. A broken, feral stallion covered in ashes.

“Are you hurt?” The voice of Duskshine asked her, sounding almost the same way as it had done in her dreams.

“I… I don’t think so.” Lilly whispered. “Am I dead…?”

If Duskshine answered or not, Lilly couldn’t hear it. The searing sound of metal dragging against metal filled her ears, causing her to grimace from the pain it brought her. A light tore through the darkness as a door opened nearby, its metal frame screeching loudly against the floor. The rays of bright light blinded Lilly, causing her to raise a hoof to cover her eyes.

Over the top of her hoof, she could see the silhouette of a pony entering the door, but the light made it impossible to distinguish any other features. Surrounded by the rays of light, it almost looked like an angel, sent to take them away from this cold, dark place. But Lilly knew better, it was more likely their captor.

“Whatever you do, missy, don’t move.” Duskshine whispered.

The moment the beams of light touched upon Willow’s body, he sprung to life, banging harder on the bars, yelling for the pony in the door. It didn’t answer his calls and simply just walked towards them in silence, still cloaked by the light behind it. It approached Willow, looking down upon him from its place on the other side. For a few seconds, Willow stopped and silence lowered itself over the group.

Then the pony reached inside the bars towards him. Lilly lay still on her side, not moving an inch just like Duskshine had told her. But she wanted to move. Wanted to get up and help as the pony wrapped its hooves around Willow’s neck and squeezed it hard, causing the Pegasus so cough and wheeze, struggling to get away.

Willow toppled backwards unto the floor as the pony let go of him, laughing at the panting stallion.

The sound of hooves against stone echoed loudly as the pony turned around and walked towards the door without another sound. Willow still tried to catch his breath on the floor, wheezing and panting. Slowly the door slid shut again, the rays of light narrowing down into a small line across the floor.

Before the door slammed shut completely, Lilly caught sight of something in that tiny stream of light.

A large nail, coated in a thick layer of rust and dirt.

Droplets of blood fell slowly into a building puddle on the floor. It was dripping from a small ledge, on which a pale stallion known as a Bleaker lay, its throat slit from ear to ear. Next to him, several other ponies had met the same fate, the crimson content of their bodies spilled over the floor. There wasn’t any signs of a struggle, and they all looked like they’d just died where they stood, killed by some invisible force.

The windows of the room they lay in had but one single spray of blood, covering up the skyline of buildings that could be seen on the other side, and the rising sun on the horizon. Beneath the window another Bleaker had fallen, his body covered in stab wounds and blood. Clearly, he was the only one that had put up a fight, one that he ultimately lost and had to pay the ultimate prize. Now his eyes had become white as they rolled into the back of his head.

Next to him there was a doorway leading into a narrow hallway. On the door the word “Offices” had been printed in metallic letters, and several more doors adorned with numbers littered the right side of the hallway, with windows on the left. After this came another room, one that looked different from the other one.

No bodies rested on the floor, but everything in the room had been torn to shreds or shattered by the fight that had just taken place therein. A long trail of blood led across the floor over to one of the corners of the room, and broken breathing could be heard.

A Bleaker rested its back against the wall in the corner, still breathing, but just barely.

He never even heard his friends die. He never saw the pony that did it, other than the swift movements of a white figure, a ghost bringing nothing but death. The Bleaker coughed loudly, blood spurting out between his teeth and over his stomach. He had a dagger buried deep into his chest, and knew that his life would soon be over.

A normal pony in a normal world might be thinking about family and loved ones in their dying breath. Perhaps they would think of choices they could have made differently, or their most precious memories of their children or perhaps a best friend. But this wasn’t a normal world anymore, and a pale pony knows nothing but anger and agony.

Feeling blood ooze out of his wound, all he could think about was bashing in the skull of whoever had done this to him. He wanted to hear the pony scream in pain, wanted to feel the blood-soaked fur against his hooves. Wanted to feel the crack underneath him as he broke through into the brain.

Slowly, his vision faded, and he felt something warm build up on the floor around his hind legs, along with a sense of relief within him. He blinked tiredly, feeling himself slip away into death’s embrace.

The last thing he saw was a pair of dark violet eyes behind a shining white hood.

Crescent’s body ached, his muscles feeling like he’d been running for hours on end. His throat was sore and raspy from all his screaming, and his chest burned due to the excessive breathing he had to force himself into. His hind legs felt like big blocks of lead pulling him down, threatening to rip him apart at the middle like some discarded old ragdoll.

Even though he wanted to move, he couldn’t. His front hooves had been firmly clamped in iron shackles, and he’d been strung up in metal chains from the ceiling above. He felt like he’d reached his breaking point.

He only vaguely remembered how he ended up in chains. As the pain coursing through him forced him to stay awake, more of what had happened earlier became clear in his head. He remembered being ambushed, running. Remembered the river and how he pressed Lilly down underneath himself to protect her.

After that, nothing but darkness and coldness.

A few fragments of spoken words echoed through his mind, as well as a few fading images of ponies, the feel of being dragged and hoisted about. His skin crawling. Then hot water hit his entire body and dragged him out into consciousness yet again. The water synched his fur and burned his skin like hot pokers.

The Stalker let out a deep guttural scream as the pain took control of his every limb and muscle.

His body bruised and broken from the violence that it had been subjected to, all he wanted t do was to go to sleep and be rid of the pain. Wanted to pass out before the pale ponies around him continued their torture. Wanted to get away from the humiliation of having to look into the eyes of the Bleakers that had saved his life by the river, only to cause him more pain.

But that pain wouldn’t let him go to sleep. It pressed into his skull like knives, forcing him to stay awake and suffer through the torment.

He was a strong stallion, and had never begged for his life or asked for mercy for as long as he remembered wandering this frozen new Equestria. Not once did he shed a tear, not even when a Bleaker had directed its punches against his private parts. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of crying.

But finally he couldn’t take it anymore, and let himself fall into nothingness. He sobbed and wept like a foal, snot building up and cluttering his nostrils making it difficult to breathe properly. He didn’t care anymore, and he could just barely hear the questions he was being asked through the ringing sound in his ears.

“What… were… you doing in our land?” Crescent could barely make out the words, but he nevertheless understood the question.

He tried to open his mouth and speak, but his jaw hurt too much to move any longer duration of time. “We… Tracked… Killed our friends…” He wheezed slowly without moving his lips.

Crescent knew all too well what they would do to him once they had their little fun with him, and there wasn’t any point in trying to hide anything or trying to barter with them. Either way, he was already as good as dead, and he had no choice but to answer their questions in hopes of being spared any more pain.

“Killed your friends?” The voice said, and for a moment Crescent was sure he was back on the river, getting swallowed by the cold waters. It sounded so distant, distorted. He hoped death was near.

“Some…. Creature…” He panted under his breath, barely able to speak coherently. “… Tore… to pieces… tracks… led us…”

“Tell me, Stalker, what was this creature?”

Crescent didn’t answer.

When he didn’t, the Bleaker interrogating him grew angry, and not a second later he felt a hoof connect sharply with the left side of his jaw. Despite being numb, he could still feel the impact, the pain it brought, and the way it tossed his entire head to the other side.

Crescent moaned in pain, feeling something rattle inside his mouth. He let his jaw drop, and something fell to the floor beneath him with a sharp clank. He could feel warm blood drop from his lips, but couldn’t do anything about it. His head was already spinning.

“What was it?” The Bleaker asked again, this time louder, landing another hit straight upon Crescent’s face.

“… I don’t… know.” Crescent whispered once his head had become still after the punch. “Walked… Upright… Red… red.”

Through the painful haze, he could hear more voices whisper around him, clearly reacting to his words. He couldn’t hear what they said, and it remained just a whisper and a mumbling.

Suddenly, he could feel somepony's breath against his face. For some reason, it had come up closer to him.

“Red?” The voice asked, merely inches away from his bruised and bloodied up face. “Red what?”

Crescent strained himself to answer, feeling the shackles around his hooves almost getting tighter as he spoke.

“… Magic.”

The voices around him became agitated, talking loudly but he still couldn’t hear what they said. The pony in his face scoffed loudly and removed itself from him. He could hear hoof steps against stone, followed by more anxious words. Even though it was impossible to make out any coherent sentences of what they said, Crescent still heard one simple word spoken over and over again. One simple word, that he had no idea what it meant.

Slowly, the murmuring died away. He could still hear breathing all around him, but not a word was said. Then suddenly, he felt something smash against his ribs, something hard. He yelled in agony as the impact sent him reeling backwards, the chains rattling loudly as he swayed freely in them. He cried as the shackles that held him bore even deeper into his legs.

Hoof steps yet again filled the room, but they became fainter as if they were walking away. Crescent couldn’t understand it or even register it, the pain in his body was too great and his mind had momentarily shut itself down to protect him. He didn’t hear a door open, and didn’t hear the last word that somepony spoke before leaving the room. The same word he’d heard repeated over and over just a few seconds ago.

A strange word. One that was foreign even to him.

Like a whisper, the sound of the word traveled across the room of its own free will, echoing loudly against the walls.

Thanatos.

A faint blue light spread across the floor of the small cell. Within the light, a rusty old nailed moved slightly, being dragged over the floor towards the source of the light; Lilly’s horn. She had to work slowly so as to not cause any loud noises that could let their captors know of what she was doing. Her magic was weak from her demoralised state, and she couldn’t even lift the nail off the floor.

Even if she could, she didn’t want to risk dropping it.

And then finally, after what felt like hours of arduous work, the nail was in her grasp, it was small but narrow, pointy enough to cause at least some amount of damage. The rust could serve as additional injury, she though.

“What are you going to do with it?” Willow whispered, still rubbing his sore throat.

“Whatever I have to.” Lilly responded sharply, even though she wasn’t even sure she had what it took to attack, let alone hurt, somepony.

She leaned herself backwards, resting her back against the cold wall. Something wet ran down it and soaked into her fur, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She reached up and touched her mane. Her hat had disappeared in the river, that one last memory of Applebloom flushed away in the icy waters, never to be found again. The top of her head felt strangely empty without it. Her cloak had gone off too, but she hoped that maybe the Bleakers took it once they got them out of the water and bought them to… whatever the hay this place was.

Carefully, the unicorn buried the nail deep within her white mane. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it was all she had. Once she was done she let her hooves fall down, and she let them rest over her stomach. It took a slight movement and a low growl within her to make her realize just how starving she actually was.

“I’m hungry too…” Duskshine whispered, having obviously heard her rumbling stomach. “But I don’t think we’ll ever eat again, missy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re all going to die here.” Duskshine’s voice was eerily calm, and it made Lilly feel uneasy. Again, the dream came back into her mind. He sounded like he was reading a script.

“No, I’m getting us out of here.” Lilly Said back to him.

Duskshine chuckled slightly. “Oh yes, I’m sure a nail is going to be of so much use, missy. You know what Bleakers do to you.”

Lilly nodded slightly, remembering rumours of charred remains of ponies, or bodies partially eaten. They did what they had to do to survive, even though it made her skin crawl.

“What… what do they do?” Willow asked from his place in the corner. He’d been quiet up to that point, but he didn’t move as he talked. He just sat on his haunches with his side against the wall, watching the door through the darkness.

“You don’t know?” Duskshine said. “Have you been living under a rock all your life?”

Willow sighed deeply at the question. “With my father, on a small farm back west. We mostly kept to ourselves, dad didn’t trust outsiders.”

“Bleakers love inflicting pain unto others.” Duskshine whispered, not taking any notice of Willow’s answer. “They beat you, torture you. If you’re a mare they’ll probably rape you into the dirt too. Then they chop you up and eat you, unless they’re in a hurry. I once heard a story about a group of Bleakers that captured a young mare and had their way with her one by one.”

Lilly felt her stomach turn.

“And they ate her at the same time.” Duskshine finished.

Willow didn’t say anything, clearly the answer had shut him up.

The unicorn mare sighed. “How can you be so calm?” She asked Duskshine. “You know all of this, yet you’re not even afraid?”

“I’m not afraid to die.”

“… I am.” Willow whispered meekly from the floor.

“I’ve lived a long life.” Duskshine continued. “It has been good and bad, and I’ve seen my fair share of friends come and go. Seen a fair share of mares come too. But if it is my time to go, then there’s nothing to do to change that. Best not to keep the Sisters waiting.”

The stallion fell silent as the sound of clanking metal could be heard from the door to the room. The sound of a key turning around in the look, followed by what sounded by the rattling of chains. Then the door slowly slid open once again, and the pale pony from before came back into the room. Lilly hoped in vain that he’d brought them something to eat.

The pony walked up to the bars, a ring with keys rattling between his teeth. It seemed he hadn’t noticed that the nail on the floor was gone.

“You there; Pegasus.” He commanded. “You’re to come with me.”

Willow shied away into the corner, remembering what happened the last time he came too close to the Bleaker. “No way I’m going anywhere with you.” He hissed.

“Fine, we can do this the hard way.” The stallion answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

He reached up to the keys and scrambled through them a couple of seconds before deciding on one of them. It looked old and rusted, and Lilly almost expected it to either break apart of get stuck in the lock. It didn’t however, and the rusted bars slid open, allowing the pale pony inside.

It happened fast, and neither Lilly nor Duskshine had time to get up. The Bleaker kicked Willow hard on the side of his ribs, causing the young Pegasus to yelp in pain. He kicked again before reaching down and clamping his teeth hard around the edge of his tail, pulling the nod crying Willow out of the cell.

Lilly couldn’t take sitting idly by anymore, and rushed to her hooves.

“Let go off him!” She yelled and threw herself over the stallion in what she believed was high enough speed to toss him to the ground.

She was wrong.

It took only a few seconds for Lilly to fall on her face on the floor and the Bleaker to let go of Willow’s tail. He kicked against the Pegasus again, forcing him backwards into the cell. The door slammed shut, and Lilly was all alone on the outside with the now furious Bleaker.

She stood up, straining her legs and placing herself in a defensive position.

“You got a big mouth for such a small girl.” The Bleaker hissed, gritting his teeth. “Maybe we should put it to good use?”

In an instant, he was on her. He threw punch after punch against her body, and Lilly couldn’t do much than do her best to avoid the hardest hits. She wasn’t strong by any means, but still managed to get in a few hits against his face, though the stallion hardly flinched.

She found herself cornered by the Bleaker, desperately looking for a way out. Without any other options, she tried to trick her way out by faking a dash to the right. It didn’t work, only causing the stallion to end up with his rear close to her face.

He grinned with glee as he bucked his hind legs hard into Lilly’s face.

The unicorn fell to the floor, blood seeping out of her mouth and ears ringing like church bells. In the distance, she could hear voices calling out to her, and she though they belonged to Duskshine and Willow on the other side of the bars.

Something sharp clamped down on the skin of her neck, pulling her to the side and unto her back. It pierced through her skin and caused blood to drop down her neck. Teeth.

Her vision seemed to be coated by a thin layer of water as the world around her moved slowly, distorted and strange. She could see the stallion above her, and his filthy yellow teeth gritted in a devilish smile. Then he took a step forward, over her head.

“Time to shut you up, you little whore.”

It took her a few seconds to realize what he was about to do, and her heart that had been racing until then seemed to stop. Once she caught sight of the stallion’s member coming closer to her face, she was sure that he was going to do it. He wasn’t holding her down, probably thinking she was too dizzy to actually offer up any resistance.

He realized his mistake too late.

Lilly quickly reached up into her mane and pulled out the nail, and with a loud yell she jabbed it straight up into the Bleaker’s belly. Before he had time to move, Lilly rolled around beneath him, ready to get up and finish the job. But her face bumbed against something cold on the floor, something that rattled.

The keys.

She quickly picked them up in her teeth, the agonising cries of pain from the Bleaker still ringing behind her. Rushing towards the cell, she fidgeted fast with the many keys, trying to remember which one it was. Seeing no other choice, she tried as many as she could in the lock. Once the lock gave in at her fifth attempt, something heavy lifted itself from her shoulders.

Willow and Duskshine rushed through the bars towards the door with Lilly behind them. Before they left, Duskshine kicked the Bleaker dead on in the temple, and he passed out from the impact.

The light on the other side of the door was blinding to their eyes as they finally opened it.

“You can’t do this, you bastards!”

A harsh, deep voice echoed through the darkness, a raspy tone coated the words as they bounced from wall to wall. There wasn’t any answer to the angered voice, only the sound of rattling chains as the owner of it flailed around in their attempts to get free of the shackles.

It rang sharply through Sawblade’s ears, banging on his eardrums like the hooves of a madpony upon an innocent skull. He growled and shouted into the air, thrashing his limbs back and forth, gritting his teeth in anger. His body trembled, but not of fear for the torture he would surely be subjected to, or the pain it would inflict, but rather anger coursing under his skin.

Pure rage, nothing more. He wanted to get lose, to get out and snap the neck of every breathing pony that got in his way. Find the ones that put him here and beat them into oblivion.

The more he screamed and yelled, the more soar his throat became, but he could care less. Had he been somewhat calm he would’ve been able to relax and lock the rage away, just like he taught himself years ago, but at the moment it was impossible. The anger consumed him from the inside, turned him into nothing but a beast in chains.

Throughout his life, Sawblade always had trouble controlling his feelings, especially his anger, and it had put him in a lot of unpleasant situations over the years. Most of the time harmless arguments or fights over some petty insult or somepony giving him a strange look. It had always been him that threw the first punch, usually with broken teeth or black eyes as a result.

Despite getting help from his friends to hold back, it was always a constant struggle to not give in to anger and violence. Yet it wasn’t enough sometimes. One too many times had he snapped out of his trance, blood coating his hooves and face. One too many times.

The stallion became quiet for just a few seconds, trying to catch his breath. It was enough time for him to register another sound nearby. Several loud bangs rang through the walls, accompanied by what he thought to be muffled cries. Then it all stopped as a sudden, loud screeching sound reached his ears, sounding like the edge of a knife pulled against metal.

He began shouting once again as he heard a door open nearby. From his place on his back, chained down to what he believed to be a table, he couldn’t see anything apart from the ceiling as a faint light spread across the walls.

“Show yourself!” He shouted to whoever had just entered the room. “Show yourself and I’ll rip your throat out!”

He could hear the sound of hooves lightly tapping across the floor, as well as something else, something soft, like cloth against stone. It came closer, and he could hear quiet breathing right next to him. Now that he remained still, his body reminded him of the pain from the metal chains clamping down over his limbs.

“Be silent, Sawblade.” A smooth, almost silky voice suddenly whispered in his left ear. “They can’t hear you from beyond.”

Sawblade instantly knew who it was.

“Just shut up and get me out of here:” He whispered back, trying to control his breathing and calm down. His heart felt like it was about to explode inside his chest as the adrenaline faded away ever so slowly.

The shackles binding him snapped with a loud crack, and he felt the distinct tingling sensation of magic in their place. Before the sounds of rattling chains had gone quiet, Sawblade had thrown himself to his feet and looked around, still trying to control himself. On the opposite side of the table head been lying on stood a pale figure, dressed from head to hoof in a white cloak and hood. Sawblade slowly nodded thanks.

“Have... you seen the others? He said between deep breaths.

Phantom shook his head in response.

“Are they dead?”

“I do not know.” Phantom whispered slowly, his horn emitting a weak light as he did.

Without another word, Sawblade made his way towards the door. As he came closer to it, he could see a long thin line torn straight through it, and a few drops of blood beneath it. Once he stepped around it and saw beyond it, his mind pieced it together with the sound he’d heard just moments before, and it became clear what had happened.

Outside, blood had pooled around a bleak pony, one that was obviously dead. A fresh cut adorned its throat, so deep that it had almost severed the stallions head. Sawblade stepped over the body, trying not to look too much at the wound; he could see something white within the crimson flesh, and his mind told him it was bone. The spine. As he stepped over the mangled pony, he could feel the fading warmth of life touch his belly. It couldn’t have been dead for more than just a few seconds.

Further down the hallway that stretched out before him several other dead bodies lay scattered in their own blood, like ragdolls thrown into the trash. The smell of steel and death permeated the air.

Phantom had been nothing but thorough in clearing the way of Bleakers.