Halloween 2015 Writing Contest

Entry #1

Mare Crisium’s Victory
Teresa Garcia (Amehana Ishtari)

She looked down on the sleeper and the soft blue velveteen nose poking up out of the blankets. His breath was silky and even. Now and then a gentle whinny fell from his lips. Mare Crisium smiled, her fangs just barely uncovered at the sadistic motion of her full butter-soft lips. A gentle snort of her own caused twin flames to lick out of her nostrils and twine in hungry glee. It was sheer luck that she had phased into this realm of reality in her nightly travels. Her quarry had been hiding from her in the body of the young colt as he dreamed and ventured from body to body.

Tonight, finally, she would feed. Her coat would stay a lustrous black to evaporate into the night with. Mane, fetlocks, tail would continue to be aflame with the light of the torments it was her nightmarely duty to inflict across the worlds. Her fate would not be, at least not yet, to wither into bone and cadaverous hair like the other nightmares of her plane. It was becoming more and more of a worry as the numbness to evil and terror spread through the corporeal beings. Tonight though...

Crisium smirked wider, then caught sight of herself in the mirror. An odd thing to have over a desk, she thought, snorting a little at seeing the shape of her lunar sea on her flank like some sort of cheery sticker. The things she sometimes discovered in her travels to bring her proper nighttime travails and crises. Imbrium had it so easy. She snorted again, the flames licking from orange to red as she stepped ever closer to the dreamer.

Softly, gently, quivering in anticipation she slipped down into the soft bed with the dreamer, laying her head in the traditional feeding place to rest on his chest. The fool actually snuggled into her before he felt her coldness. But he calmed. Crisium allowed her power to seep into him, her eyes glowing a vivid vermillion. Battle scenes of the aeons flitted across his mind and bloomed into expression at her bidding. Each caused him to whimper more and more, but her head grew heavier with every cry. Every time his guns misfired or a sword broke she grew stronger. With each buddy cut down by strange bug creatures she grew younger. His fear rose from his mouth in a thick mist and she breathed it in like the fumes from a fine wine.

Finally, he opened his eyes and met hers. His scream sealed it, and he was hers at last. Her hoof rose to his cheek in exultation and he shrank back, but her spell held him immobile. He would remember when his folly caused her to rise to her rank.

The marshal would relive every death he caused, every broken heart.

In the morning, all that his men found was a bed filled with dust and the mark of the Sea of Crisis.