Tik Tik's Death Coach 2
Story by TikTikKobold on SoFurry
Tik Tik and company sit in awe, watching a ghoulish scene.
This is a Halloween special inspired Thomas Crofton Croker's poem The Death Coach as well as a few other Samhain spirits.
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A coach, indeed! It's led by a team of horses, each glowing with the unnatural pallor of the will o' the wisp, their hides of jet, and their eyes of crimson.
That is, of course, only counting the lead stallion, for the remaining members of the quintet leave the headed steed to lead while they, the beheaded, follow without direction of their own. All of them are bridled with bones and sinew, a regal barding draping the lead horse with skulls, staring eyelessly into the abyss.
And though this determined grim runner is the lead of the animals, it is not the one that carries the whip and the direction, for that comes in the form of a driver, whip in gloved hand. A black cloak, with long folded sleeves and an undercoat that goes down to his boots, is on his broad shoulders. The coat continues to a high collar, but the collar terminates in a top hat, floating above a glowing void where a head should be.
The coach itself shines with macabre beauty. Its ivory blushes in the ghostly light as a cacophony of gallops break through the morass of midnight.
Something grasps Tik Tik's shoulder.
“Yeep!"
“Sshhhh!" Erin hisses, yanking Tik Tik away from the road, wrapping the kobold tightly, and squishing the wizard's horns against her sizeable breasts.
Tik Tik watches as the carriage approaches, and marvels wordlessly as the lead horse turns its golden gaze, locking onto Tik Tik's.
For a moment, perhaps not a second more, the kobold wonders if she sees the horse smiling at her.
She has no chance to perceive nor wonder as the creature whinnies, screaming in a horrified surprise, its fragile yet impressive legs buckling as it topples over, head-first into the muddy road.
The phantom coachman jerks the reins but cannot avoid what is coming. Horse after horse tumbles and falls into a pile of carnage, the coach itself crashing onto its side in a din of destruction, a bony wheel flying off and landing right in front of the observant kobold.
The campers all remain quiet as, from the collapsed pile of broken bodies rises up the coachman, his hat gone. He slops off mud where he can on his coat and steps up from the mangled remains of his horses, strolling over to the side of the conveyance as if nothing had happened. He knocks with a gloved hand upon the carriage door, only for it to pop open with the wail of the dead, a ghastly illumination casting a pallid shadow across the chest and shoulders.
He reaches a hand into the unknown depths, where a dainty hand takes it, silently hoisting up the veiled woman in white. She hops off the carriage, hiking her dress up slightly as she walks off to the road's opposite side.
She's followed by a black and bristly hoof, grabbing the carriage side and hoisting up. A plump pig person in a black dress rolls off, giggling mirthfully as she trots up beside the woman in white.
Following this is a skeletal arm rising up to reveal the rest of the bony business, dressed in a heavy traveler's coat. The skeleton pulls its sleeve back down, clattering to itself before hopping off the side.
The driver closes the door and walks around towards the roof, towards the side of the road where the campers sit, each of them quiet in the darkness, for someone had extinguished their flame during the approach.
“What is that?" hisses Tik Tik.
“Dunno," Erin replies, “But let's not let them find us."
“You crazy?" snaps Gimmegee. “You two need to get back here now!" Her button-like eyes are wide and glistening with tears. “Now!" she repeats as if that would be enough to snap Tik Tik out of her observations and her sense of wonder.
The headless coachman stops at the roof, touching the downed thing. As he does, a subtle snort and clatter of hooves comes from the front.
One by one, the horses kick back to life, or some semblance of it, stumbling and neighing in protest among one another as they cobble together a semblance of order.
The driver stops, his body turned toward that display a moment, or perhaps he wasn't? Tik Tik wonders how such a creature could exist. How magical were his senses? Could he taste, see, smell, hear? Is he limited only to touch? What could that touch feel like?
And the others. Who are they? What are they? So many remarkable things on this journey, yet she has hardly reached the destination.
She squirms in Erin's lap, horns poking and rubbing at the student's breasts.
“Ngh… T… Tik Tik, please…" the human blushes. “This is really weird, and… and…"
Gimmegee even gasps, unable even to cup her mouth at the sight, for as they were speaking, the driver, unbuttons his cloak, throwing it off of his shoulders.
His back is bare and of an alabaster complexion, but the definition in each muscle as he rolls his shoulders back rolls and strains against the sheer fortitude and magnificence of themselves. He squats down, cupping the bottom side of the overturned carriage. They ripple and bulge as he lifts them up without a sound, breath, or grunt. Only the cracking of material and the slopping of mud as he lifts, and then rests the heavy thing upon his shoulders, pressing his palms upon the leaning something, and then pushing!
The coach slams on the ground, rocking back and then teetering before its weight collapses on the missing wheel and back down onto the coachman!
He presses his hands upon the side again, but his boots dig into the dirt and the mud, slipping, slipping, slipping, threatening to crush him then and there!
If it weren't, of course, for the magical spectral kobold hand helping to support the weight of the strange and eldritch vehicle.