Demon 1

by Summer
(PMB South Africa)

Note fron Summer: I wrote a much longer, much more detailed version of this story but I had to shorten it so I could put it on this site. Please tell me if you like it and I'll try posting the second part as soon as possible.
During the very early part of my foalhood, I was a very happy and contented creature. My mom and I lived in a big field with about a dozen other horses. There where two foals too, and I remember how we played chasing games and playfully nipped at each other. And when we had finished playing, we would retire panting and sweating to our mothers sides.
However my joyous carefree life did not go on forever. As I grew older and wiser, I began to realize that the world wasn't as beatiful and life wasn't as simple as I'd imagined.I was shocked to find out about the harsh reality of the future that awaited me. Who wouldn't be shocked to find that their owner was a horse dealer and that they had only been bought so that they could be sold to a slaughterhouse for horsemeat? The dreaded fact served as a barrier between me and happiness. How could I be happy if I knew that every day that whizzed past me was bringing me closer and closer to the sharp silver blade that would part me from my body.......
I would have forgotten about my future as horsemeat if it had not been for the weekly reminders that forced me to think about it. As a foal brought up for meat, I was never handled by humans and I was quite terrified of them. They where the "reminders" that came every week. They would come -a small group of men- and stand at the fence, talking and pointing at us horses. As soon I caught sight of them, I would flee behind my mom.
When the men finished talking, they would open the gate
to our field and come inside. If the horse they wanted was a tame one, only one or two men would come with a lead and halter and catch the horse. I would watch with my little horsy heart soaked with sadness as they were lead away, their heads hanging sadly, their eyes tired and defeated.
But for the wilder horses, it was another story.Usually
six to seven men would come carrying ropes and whips. The horse they where after would go crazy and bang wildly into the fences as it tried to escape - but to no avail. The men always lassoed them quicky. But even though they where caught, the horses wouldn't give up. Their last fight for freedom included bucking, biting,
kicking, rearing and neighing loudly. The men would beat them and shout at them. Sometimes it shut them up but sometimes it only made them jump more. And then they would be dragged away, still screaming.
Every time I saw this human-beat-horse display I would be deeply hurt and feel a deep sense of helplesness. I wished I could get at those humans, tear them and trample them and teach them a lesson no horse had ever dared to teach them. But I knew, though I hated knowing, that the humans with all their whips and kill-with-a-bang things they kept on their waists were much too powerful.
But I can still remember the day I ignored this fact -the day the worst thing ever happened.......
To be continued.

Demon 2

by Summer
(PMB South Africa)

The day started out like any other. The older horses grazed quietly or stood in the shade of the trees, swishing away the summer flies with their tails. I wondered around the field, sometimes stopping to playfully nip another youngster or munch on a tuft of grass.
The men came at about noon. Before they even came into sight, the horses began pacing around restlessly and flaring their nostrils in the air. As soon as I saw them, I stopped what I was doing and eyed them suspiciously. Then they came in, carrying their whips and ropes. The wilder horses began galloping away to the end of the field and the other horses followed. I trotted over to my mothers side. Although I'd already been weaned, my mother was still a source of comfort and protection to me.

At first we couldn't make out who the men where trying to catch, but when we scattered, I found that they were heading straight for me and my mother! We ran hard but soon we where cornered and the men began throwing ropes over my mom's neck. She screamed.

My mom was a massive bay Breton who had grown up in a relatively nice home. Then she had been sold to do agricultural work which she did until she injured her leg. With a badly broken leg, she became quite useless and was sold. No one was interested in her, that was apart from the horse dealer who bought her. He could easily make out that he'd get a lot for her if he sold her to a slaughterhouse. When she came to live here on his property, she had been pregnant with an older sister of mine. Our owner thought it would be more worth it if he waited for the foal to be born before he sent my mom for slaughter. He was quite right. The foal turned out to be such a big one that the horse-butcher had offered R15000 for her when she grew up! So our owner decided to keep my mom and let her give birth to as much money as possible. That is how she ended up living at our present home for a good ten years. She had to see each of her foals dragged away once they where old enough which had made her wild and she had learned to detest humans more than ever.

That was why she bucked and reared, kicking out at the men who held her captive. They shouted at her and whipped her to keep her silent. But she still struggled desperately. The men yanked her tail down to stop her from kicking and swore at her. I watched them beat her so hard that she reared, whinnying in pain, her eyes white with terror. I could watch no more. Without stopping to think, I lunged forward, kicking and biting at wretched creatures that dared terrorize my mother.I heard shout of surprise as my hooves struck one of the men. I felt whips raining down on me. I heard them yell at me. But I didn't stop. I ran at them, knocking them to the ground and trampling on them. I heard some more shouts then a loud bang.
To be continued.

Demon 3

by Summer
(PMB South Africa)

The thud on my right shoulder sent me sprawling back. And in those valuable moments the men escaped with my mother dragged behind them. I run after my mother but they slammed the gate in my face and no matter how hard I tried I could not get at her. I watched how they dragged her struggling and screaming into a small trailer that would have been more suitable for a cow or sheep than a massive horse. After a lot of beating they managed to cram her in and lock the gate. Then the trailer moved of.
I paced crazily up and down the paddock fence, calling for her. She turned her head and between the bars of the trailer she saw me and whinnied. And that was the last I saw of my mom.


My life changed after that. I had seen the men beat my mother and that it changed me. Because I was a horse who’d rather hate than fear, I hated those men more than ever and never let down a chance to make their life as miserable as possible. Just the sight of them drove me crazy and while the other horses ran away, I charged at them. They started to fear me. I had become a devil, a monster, a killer, and because I was a natural leader, that where worried that the other might learn from me.
Although at first when they had shot me on my shoulder I had not felt anything but a thud, the pain came afterwards. It was terrible- and I suffered a lot. I soon found hat I was unable to use that leg and had to limp around. But that did not stop me rebelling against my owners. In fact, that only added more fuel to my fire of hatred because I knew it was they, the men that had caused my injury and all the pain that came from it. When I looked I could see all the dry crusted blood around my wound.
I must have caused more trouble than I was worth because one day, a few men came over to our field. As usual, I charged at them, daring them to come inside. But simply stood there and it took me no time to see that they where pointing something at my head. There was a familiar bang and I saw something whizzing past my eye and hit me with great force on my shoulder- next to my old wound. This time I felt the intense, overpowering pain almost immediately. In fright I reared up, neighing in anguish. As I came down, a stinging pain shot up my leg. I felt myself staggering then slowly dropping to my knees. The next thing I knew was that the men where around me, tying up my legs. I felt faint but I struggled in vain. Then I was dragged towards a waiting truck. The rough ground tore at my skin till my skin wore out and my flesh was visible. I seemed to be in a dream- a nightmare- where I had lost all control of myself. It was only when they lifted me up into the truck did I come to my senses. Taking the men by surprise, I suddenly began struggling with all my might. I had to get free, I just had to. I knew where they were taking me. I wasn’t going there. No, I would never let them kill me. I would fight, fight till my last breath.
And with that, I gathered all the remaining strength in my body I struggled against the ropes that held my legs together. I fought against the men who began shouting and beating me. There was a sudden tearing sound and I found my legs where free. With a great heave I scrambled to my feet and bit wildly at everyone around me. The pain in my shoulder was great beyond imagination but I was too furious to take much notice of it.
I would probably go on fighting if I had not heard another bang. This time I felt nothing but I suddenly noticed that all the men where running for cover. And in front of me was a fence and an open gate. And beyond that lay hills and fields and woods for as your eye could see. And there, invisible to the human eye, laid my dream. I tossed my head and neighed a neigh of triumph before trotting through the open gate. And with the happiest of hearts, I embraced my freedom.
To be continued…….

Demon 4

by Summer
(PMB South Africa)

How far I ran and why I ran so far, I did not know. I just went on and on, trying to get as far away as possible from the men. It was not because I feared them but because I hated them.
All the time my leg hurt badly but I tried to ignore it. I trotted on and on, and when I could trot no more, I walked. When I could walk no more, I stumbled. And when I could stumble no more I drew to standstill under a big, shady tree. My entire body ached and I was tired, hungry and thirsty. A few times I felt as if I would just faint but I pressed on. I was a fighter, I told myself. Fighters don’t fall easily. They go on fighting till their very last breath. And that was what I was going to do.
Once I had rested a bit and gathered a little strength, I set of to look for water to drink. It took me a while before I found a stream. I drank thirstily then looked around for something to eat. Winter had set in and the yellow-brown grass was hard and tasteless. But I had no choice. I had had nothing to eat for almost the entire day and it was almost dusk now.
When I had eaten whatever little I could find, I retired under the shade of a big tree. This was not what I had imagined freedom to be like. Back at my old home, we horses had always been given hay because the men knew that the more flesh they could put on us, the more money they would get for us. Now I was here, lost and alone, having to take care of myself.
With little concentration I watched the sun lower itself behind the mountains like a ship sinking under waves. Then the place grew dark and the stars shone in the sky. I closed my eyes and tried to retire into a peaceful sleep. It was hard because I had to keep my injured leg off the ground. As soon as I would fall asleep, I would unconsciously drop my leg and then wake up suddenly as the pain shot up my leg when my hoof touched the ground. And then there were the noises of animals rustling in the bushes which disturbed me. I had been so used to sleeping in the safety of my herd that here in the open I felt uneasy. I wasn’t actually frightened, but rather startled at the sudden noise of an animal in a hedge or a big owl in the trees. I felt relieved when the sky slowly began clearing up and the sun raised her bright, golden head above the hilltops.
For most of the morning I grazed on what ever I could find. I was still grazing by midday when a sudden noise in a nearby bush startled me. Following my instincts, I turned and ran without even stopping to decide whether I should confront whatever had frightened me. It was hard to run on three legs but I limped on at a fast pace till I realized that nothing was following me after all. Feeling thirsty, I looked round for a stream or pond. Not far away, I noticed, was a herd of cows grazing. Just beside them stood a trough of clean water. But surrounding them was a wire fence and no matter how hard I looked, I could find no gap in it. By now it was very hot and I was very thirsty. The water stood there, sparkling in the winter sun, tantalisingly close. I craned my neck over the fence and tried to reach the water. My head almost touched it but not quite. The spikes dug fiercely into my skin but I leaned forward, still. One of the fence post grunted in pain, uprooted itself from the ground, and lay down defeated. I stepped over the fallen fence and thrust my nose into the water- much to the distaste of the watching cows.
When I’d finished drinking to my fill, I raised my head and heard far in the distance, a horse’s whinny. Feeling tense and exited, I tossed my head up to smell the air and whinnied back. Another whinny floated back. I tossed my head again and started trotting in the direction from where the whinnies had come from. I soon came up to a farmyard. In front was a big paddock where four horses stood waiting to meet me. There where two chestnuts and a grey who where all mares. The fourth horse was a bay stallion, which as soon as he saw me, reared up and neighed fiercely. He didn’t frighten me and I trotted over to the paddock. The stallion leaned over and tried to nip me. I danced out of his way, flattened back my ears and bared my teeth like a dog. The stallion backed off a little. He’d probably decided I wasn’t worth tackling. I came over to the fence and stuck my head over it. I wanted to meet the mares but the stallion was keeping them back. I wondered round the paddock, sticking my head over the fence every now and then to deal the stallion an unexpected bite. I finally gave up trying to get at the mares and wondered over to the farmyard in search of food. There where a few humans moving around. As soon as I saw them I bellowed a warning and charged at them. Making weird human noises, they left whatever they where doing and disappeared into the nearest building. It was really frustrating as I was in a foul mood and wanted to vent my anger on someone- preferably a human.
I wondered around looking for something to eat. I came to a big building with a big entrance. Cautiously I looked inside and saw that it was almost full of hay. I had never been in a building before and I felt a bit afraid to enter, but my hunger drew me in, step by step. Once I got to the hay, I ate greedily for a long time. When my I was finally satisfied, I turned to leave. But to my horror, the entrance had suddenly disappeared. No matter how hard I through myself against the walls, I could not escape.
It was then I realized that, once again, I had become prisoner.

Last and final part coming soon.