The great cocoon was in the same place, close against the wall, but the lid was laid on it, not adhered down, but ready in its place to be sealed shut. I knew I must reach the body for the key, so I raised the lid, and laid it back against the wall. And then I saw something which filled my very soul with horror.
There lay the Queen, but looking as if her youth had been half restored. For the white hair had changed to charcoal-grey. The cheeks were fuller, and the black translucent skin seemed emerald-green underneath. The mouth was fuller than ever, for on the lips were gouts of a green substance, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran down over the chin and neck. Even the deep, irredescent eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the whole awful creature were simply gorged with love. She lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with her repletion.
I shuddered as I bent over to touch her, and every sense in me revolted at the contact, but I had to search, or I was lost. The coming night might see my own body a banquet in a similar war to those horrid three bridesmaids. I felt all over the body, but no sign could I find of the key. Then I stopped and looked at the Queen. There was a mocking smile on the bloated face which seemed to drive me mad. This was the being I was helping to transfer to Canterlot, where, perhaps, for centuries to come she might, amongst its teeming millions, satiate her lust for love, and create a new and ever-widening circle of semi-demons to batten on the help less. The very thought drove me mad.
A terrible desire came upon me to rid the world of such a monster. There was no lethal weapon at hand, but I seized a shovel which the workers had been using to fill the cocoons, and lifting it high, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful face. But as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell upon me, with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The sight seemed to paralyze me, and the shovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face, merely making a deep gash above the forehead. The shovel fell from my hand across the cocoon, and as I pulled it away the flange of the blade caught the edge of the lid which fell over again, and hid the horrid thing from my sight.
The last glimpse I had was of the bloated face, fixed with a grin of malice which would have held its own in the depths of Tartarus.
-Teddingtonmy little pony friendship is magic dracula Queen Chrysalis