Rainbow Dash Kicks Geoffrey in the Face

Repeatedly

Geoffrey was admiring his kill. The victim, a young girl from one of the city's many brothels, was strung up like a butchered pig by his bed. A description fitting of one such as her, he pondered. Her lifeless body pierced by innumerable arrows, fired with great accuracy from the young king's crossbow, was a ghastly sight and would have made even the most hardened warrior cringe in discomfort.

A sane man would have wondered what kind of depraved being would commit such an act of cruelty, deliberately avoiding any vital organs with each and every bolt but one. A sane man would have wondered how long the poor girl had to suffer at the hands of this sick bastard. A slightly disturbed person might wonder how he managed to string her up by himself, being as unfit and lacking in strength as only the truly pampered could be. A more depraved person would wonder if he had fucked her before the torture began, and if this was his way of experimenting in the bedroom.

Geoffrey Lannister was none of these persons. He didn't wonder about anything, merely smiling with a look of pure satisfaction in his eyes. Pleased with his work, and the rush of endorphins it had provided, he stood up, crossbow still in hand. The weight of it made it uncomfortable to keep hold of, so he walked over to one of the room's corners and placed it on the floor, taking great care as to not damage his most beloved possession.

As he turned around, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turned to look, but it was gone, a soft gust of air betraying it as not a figment of his imagination, but something actually in the room with him. A tingling sensation of fear crept up the king's spine. Noone was allowed in his room, not even his mother. He was just about to open his mouth to ask who was there, when he heard a low rumbling noise originating from somewhere behind him. The sound was akin to an angry dog and it was close. He spun around to face the intruder, only to be greeted by the blinding sensation of a hind leg hitting him in the face.

Geoffrey reared backwards, as the force almost toppled him. He was in pain. He was NEVER in pain. Something was wrong, how could the body process something like this? His right hand had automatically gone for his attacked face, clenching his cheek. He could already feel the blood rush to the damaged area, swelling the skin. The heat felt almost like his cheek was on fire.

He managed to open his eyes, his sight blurred from tears and shock alike. Before him stood the most impossible of creatures. It had the shape of a small pony, but with feathered wings attached to its back. A Pegasus. A fantastic creature of legends, alive and real, right in front of him. His confusion grew to even wilder levels as the details of this incredible beast became clear to him. The coat was of a clear cerulean blue, its mane and tail the colors of the rainbow. The eyes, almost magenta in hue, were narrowed and its teeth were bared in an almost human expression of severe anger.

The young king would have wondered about many things. How was this creature here, where did it come from? How was it able to enter his room without anyone noticing, why was it blue? Why did it come to his room and, most importantly, why was it attacking him? Unfortunately for the blonde one, he didn't have time to ask any questions as the rainbow-colored Pegasus flapped its wings, and in one graceful movement rose to eye level, turned around and delivered a second blow to his facial region.

The blow sent Geoffrey backwards, toppling him backwards over a chair. The unlucky furniture broke as the spoiled rear end of a young boy struck, and pathetically joined it on the floor, sending broken wood splinters in every direction. Surely someone must have heard that. There were two guards stationed outside his bedroom door at all times. Why didn't they come to his rescue? Under normal circumstances, Geoffrey wouldn't have hesitated to have them tortured to death for their incompetence, but this was no ordinary circumstance, and his mind was occupied at the moment.

Pain. More pain. How could anything hurt more than the previous blow? White-hot, blinding, unbelievable. This had to be witchcraft, never in his life had he imagined such a sensation could exist. Combined with the fear and confusion at his assailant, the pain had readied a unique canvas on which the coming events were to unfold. 

Both his hands were now busy cradling his face, blood spilling from the resulting cut. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Just lie on the floor, nursing his injuries as the sound of hooves clopped slowly towards him.

He didn't question how it was possible, how this clearly equine being could pick him up with no hands. Why it would lift him by his shirt and stare into his eyes, as if to trying to tell him something. All he felt was pain and desperation. And unspeakable terror. The Pegasus let go of him, letting gravity bring him back down to solid ground. His legs could no longer support him and he limply sat down. He raised his gaze and was just able to make out the shape of a hoof coming towards him. The adrenaline had blessed him with reaction, and he quickly raised his right arm to block, to mitigate the damage that would be done.

The sickening sound of bone cracking pierced the air, as the splinters of his radius pierced his skin. The bone pipes, being confronted by the might of physics, had given way under the tremendous force directed at them. He screamed. An unholy scream of terror and agony. It resonated in his Armour, vibrated of the many mirrors. A scream like that would have been heard miles away. Surely, someone would come to his aid. But none did. He was alone, helplessly under attack by an angry mare with wings on her back and rainbows in her mane. For how long would he suffer this beating, for how long would this... this thing keep on.