Don't push me, I've got nothing to lose.
There's a video that shows one of the most evil men in history grinning, flirting with his girlfriend as she stands behind the camera. He calls her beautiful as she compliments him, smile radiating light. If you had not known who this man was, what he was capable of doing and the terrible things he did...you may have thought him just a normal person. Not the notorious killer of 6 million Jewish people living in various parts of Europe. This is scary, because it means that wickedness can lie within the nicest smiles, the prettiest of faces...that even psychopaths may have the capability to love. This is scary because evil can be anywhere...perhaps, in yourself?
Modicum Mortem had the capability to love - even if it was a fucking twisted, narcissistic, self-centered kind of love, it was love none the less. He never liked to admit it, because what was love but the releasing of endorphins throughout the body? What was love but for the stupid, naive equines that walked Beqanna? Love never had much effect on him - he did not love his parents, or the mares he had previously seduced. He hadn't found love by watching the stars at night or seeing children frolic.
But he had found it in her.
Despite his want for leadership, despite the things he wanted from her in return for the time he was sacrificing, despite being able to heal quickly if she died in the process...he did love her. He found himself, all the time now, following her. He had become her shadow, an obsessed silhouette watching her as she went about her daily routine, belly bulging with the child he would raise as his own. The silhouette knew how she would eat to sustain the ever-growing fetus, then walk through the forest, then eat again, then socialize if she pleased. He knew where she was going, where to find her. Their own meetings were few and far between, but the clown took pleasure in knowing where she was...at all times.
Which is why today, as he followed her away from the forest and into the field where they had first met, he grew confused. She had not told him of her absence, which is why he was glad he followed today, stalking through the grasses to see what in the world she was doing. She cracked the ice of a small creek with a hoof, sighed. She looked defeated - nothing like the strong mare she had been.
And then he realized it. She was running from him...she was scared of him.
A surge of anger pulsed through his veins. She was going to leave him? After all he was willing to do for her? After all they had planned? The ebony clown's satellites hugged the top of his skull as he bared his teeth. No fucking way.
The bitter air curled out from Modicum's nose and around his face, resulting in a huff that he did not try to mask from her ears. He didn't care to hide any longer. He turned swiftly on his heels, and began to move away from her. He laughed cruelly as he did, finding himself grow angrier with each passing second. If she did not want him anymore, than no more would he be around. She'd never be able to find him.
Modicum Mortem