User blog comment:Guildmaster Grovyle/JLE Role Play, Spring 2015/@comment-24422626-20150505164047


 * Somepony approaches Goldenheart and Hawkwing's room from down the hallway. There stands Butler, sawed-off shotgun in hoof.*

Butler: I heard demon laughter! Confound it all! If this is more intruder business..!

* ''After just a couple of hours, Glaive is roused by the vibrating of his communicator. Sitting up and retrieving the device, Glaive pulls up the private channel from which the call is coming.''*

[click]

Glaive: "Kick... Go ahead."

Kick: "Bloodwing... Vega and Lucid still haven't returned. We're getting worried here."

Glaive: "Has anypony else vanished?"

Kick: "Berhertz and Mortos."

Glaive: "Odd. I'll try to join you as soon as I can... But the League is currently tied up with Parlys the Pale. He's on the loose again."

Kick: "What should I do in the meantime?"

Glaive: "...Stay put for now. Don't go hunting yet. We don't want to feed everyone to this threat before knowing what we're up against."

* ''Another scream of pure agony tears through Vega's throat before his body stops convulsing and hangs limp from the wall again. The bat-stallion no longer remembers how long it has been since he was stunned into near-unconsciousness and dragged away from the others, but it can't have been that long ago. Still, it feels like the torture has been going on for years. His insides simmer, and his entire being feels as though it has been buck-kicked nonstop for a whole day. Even his training against forced pain is poor comfort.''

* ''Vega cannot see his tormentor. His vision is blurred, and the relentless pony before him presents only a dark, fuzzy form in the cold cell. The bat-pony stares blankly at his chest and stomach. His coat is charred and smoking a little--though some blood seeps slowly to the floor, the crackling green blade has left Vega with hardly any serious injury. A hellish weapon... Maintained by the magic of a skilled torturer, no doubt.''

* ''The shimmering sword stabs Vega again, this time in the shoulder. His back arches as blood boils and veins burn.''*

???: Look up!

* Vega defies it...*

???: Look at me!!

* Vega's head is yanked up by the mane.*

Vega: Mmh! Tartarus take you!

* ''He pays dearly for the hoarse exclamation. The air is magically ripped from Vega's lungs, leaving him to choke for several seconds until he is allowed to breathe again.''*

???: Say that again and you'll lose your jaw. I'll ask once more! Who developed the Thrush virus?

* Vega's head droops again.*

Vega: You'll... never find out, whoever you are... All traces of it have been wiped from Trotham. Only one mutated pony exists today... One more than enough.

* ''The vicious green blade is plunged into Vega's stomach until the hilt is pressed against his coat. As it twists inside him, the pain knows no bounds nor end.''*