Dancing With The Devil

Prologue

The horse stood still, men all around him. Yelling. Whips in there hands, aimed for the once beautiful bay coat. Slashing. Blood. Scars. They could see the fear in his eyes. They didn't care. They thought he was worthless, a waste of money. Though maybe they were the worthless ones, sad excuses for a human.

The horse shrieked, letting out an ear piercing whinny, a cry for help. Nobody came, nobdy was there to hear him. He shrieked again, this time it was a battle call. The men knew nothing about horses. They didn't know what was coming. They were unprepared for the sudden charge from the sixteen hand Dutch Warmblood. Their serious yet laughing faces were replaced by looks of fear. They dropped their whips and turned, about to run. The horse ran faster than some, knocking them to the ground. It wasn't enough to kill them. The horse never had such intentions. He never even had intentions to hurt them until a couple of weeks ago. They deserved it. They were cruel, harsh, abusive. They changed the horse's life forever.

*Author's Note*

So here we go with a second story. The rest of it won't be written in such short sentences, it was just the way I wanted to write the prologue.