Cutting The Fool
A Megalomaneia short
So I made a new banner and a short story to go along with it, it's not long (one and a half pages), so hit that page break and dive right in.
Warning, some sexy and grimdark stuff ahead.
(In a world between Equestria and our world, there is a place where anthropomorphic hybrids rule. All the attributes of ponies, with the benefit of breasts. This is a tale of two pairs of such boobies. The lively Maneia and the ender of lives Nocturna.)
“I'm not saying this isn't fun... but I am saying I really don't want to die.”
Maneia stood statuesque, her body rigid, muscles tense, a slight sheen of sweat across her brow as she carefully balanced a bright red apple atop her head.
Looming, like the shadow of death, Nocturna twirled a massive scythe, the blade coming within a hairsbreadth of Maneia's skin. Unlike her usual elegant attire, she wore a pair of loose fitting dark gray slacks with small matching gray top, baring both her shoulders and midriff. Casual was not a word often used to describe the white unicorn, but in the comfort of the privacy of her home and the tempting embrace of a lazy summer afternoon, she had shed her flowing black dress for something that allowed a bit more flexibility. Around her eyes a black bandana had been tightly wrapped, completely obscuring her vision into absolute darkness.
Yipping happily, arms and legs splayed in the long gently swaying grass, Wildflower energetically rolled about, occasionally stopping to look towards the two, then with a happy bark, returning to her grassy play.
“You're not going to die,” Nocturna assured in an as equally casual manner as her clothing, still swirling the scythe in a flurry of motion, sliding up one side of Maneia, then down the other. “You know I hold complete dominion over your body and soul.”
Through gritted teeth, desperately trying to limit her movements, Maneia continued her assertion. “Bringing me back to life after I die is NOT the same thing as not dieing in the first place!”
With a “tomato, tamato” shrug, Nocturna swiftly swung the curved blade between Maneia's legs, stopping just within her unprotected nether region. “I love that distressed look you get.” Almost toppling the apple from it's perch, a shiver ran through Maneia's body as the cold steel touched her flesh.
“Why exactly did I have to take off all my clothes?” Maneia asked with a whimper, standing stock still save for the occasional slight quiver. Her clothes had been thrown into a crumpled pile several yards away, leaving the mare with only her long purple hair cascading down her body to provide any form of modesty.
Approaching the pile of unguarded garments on her hands and knees, Wildflower stealthily snaked her way along the ground. Checking to make sure neither mare had been alerted to her plan, Wildflower stretched out her neck and quickly grabbed Maneia's white blouse in between her teeth. Jumping back with her prize, she beat a hasty retreat, growling and enthusiastically shaking her new toy.
“If on the off chance something does go wrong, it's much harder to mend clothing than it is flesh and bone,” Nocturna informed nonchalantly, “Plus blood stains never truly come out, trust me.”
“That's not very...” With a gasp, her words feel short.
“Hush now,” Nocturna said as she slowly pulled the curved blade from between Maneia's thighs, carefully teasing the sensitive skin with the razor sharp edge. “You're the one who oh so desperately wanted me to do something fun, so no complaining.”
“This isn't really what I had in mind.”
In one swift motion, Nocturna pulled back the tip of the scythe, glistening with drops of blood and other juices. Mewling pitifully and blushing slightly, Maneia struggled to keep her body from wobbling enough to unbalance the precarious apple.
“The point of this game,” Nocturna informed matter of factly. “Is to test my peripheral senses. All living things exude a kind of presence, and with enough knowledge and training, one can learn how to read these and in essence see somepony without seeing them.”
Nocturna sighed, not needing her eyes to know that a blank expression would be Maneia's only reply. “I've deprived myself of vision, so I'll rely on my other senses to slice in half the apple on your head.”
Adjusting her stance, Nocturna adjusted her grip on the weapon's long wooden handle. “Now don't move.”
Frowning, with an overpowering sinking feeling, Maneia made to reply, but instead took a sharp intake of breath as her body, from crotch to crown alit with pain. In a spray of vivid red blood the left side of her body slowly slid downwards before both halves gave way and collapsed with a wet plop on the maroon stained ground.
Slowly, Nocturna untied her blindfold. A slight smile fought to emerge as she reached down and picked up a perfect, vertically split, blood soaked apple. Looking upon the now crimson Maneia halves, she allowed herself a genuine smile as her horn burst into a dark shimmering light. “You know I can't resist when you're like this.” Streams of blood sporadically swirled through the air, as she began slipping out of her clothes. With a crunch, she took a bite of the apple slice, her black lipstick now shimmering red.
“What's the matter?” Twilight asked as her friend stopped in the street, a sense of dread and horror almost visually emanating from her.
Face pale, a tear in her eye, Applejack removed her hat and held it close to her chest. “I don't know why, but I feel like one of my apples has gone horribly horribly wrong.”