Unleash the Demon

Results: 3rd Place

Show: 2018 Dubai World Cup Carnival
Class: Dubai Golden Shaheen 

Horse: FHF Agent Of Hell (leased from CapNRCubey) 
Jockey: Barnabas Skellar
Stable: Fox Harbor Farms 
Post: # 7 
Featured Horse: FP Shadow Fox
Extra: Training for the Shaheen

Story: Demon of Dubai

“No.” 

“What do you mean ‘No’?!”

“Oh, excuse me, I wasn’t clear... I meant, ‘Hell no’! You are not riding Demon, he wasn’t named that for his cuddly personality!”

Amalie and Harley had been at it for hours. Waylon had been a little disappointed that Demon wouldn’t make it to Dubai and Amalie had offered to take him. She was honestly gutted she wouldn’t be entering, a stark difference from how she’d been the last time Dubai had hosted a big-time race, and so jumped at the chance to go. She wouldn’t even make him change his silks, Demon just suited the orange silks and wouldn’t look good in blue and red she didn’t think. However when Harley heard her plans to race the colt he, for one of the first times in their relationship, put his foot down - hard. 

“I’m not letting you mount that crazy beast, I can hardly handle him myself!” He protested, his tone indicating he would not bend. Honestly, Amalie half agreed with him and knew that in the end Barnabas would be his jockey. The reason she didn’t let it go was purely pride, half professional pride and half pure righteous feminine pride. She knew Harley didn’t intend it in such a way but she could feel the irritation rising at the back on her neck and there was only so many times she could repeat ‘I know you’re worried but -‘ before she started to get a serious headache. 

“I’m not a child, you know, just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I’m any less able than you! I’ve ridden dangerous horses before, horses far larger than Demon!”

“This isn’t an argument about your skill, Amalie!” He countered. She frowned even more in reply, things were serious if he was using her full name and not his little nickname for her. She huffed, biting back any feminist remarks she could. If he hadn’t made it sound as though it was because she was a tiny ‘woman’ that he had to ‘protect’ from the big bad horse she may have let it drop. 

“Then what is it about?! It’s not about dangerous horses, because I can handle them fine! Demon has a figure-8 noseband and blinders, Pharaoh didn’t even have a noseband or a hood!”

“There’s dangerous horses and there’s Demon!” 

The argument continued for a while before both sighed in a mix of frustration, exasperation and resignation. Neither was enjoying this and Amalie’s anger was swiftly fizzling out. Eventually she threw her hands up. 

“Ok. Ok, you win, Harley. I won’t ride Demon, we’ll get Barnabas to ride as usual.” She still felt a little indignant over his word choice, to her, for some reason, making it sound like he didn’t want her riding because she was a woman. The rational part of her mind told her that wasn’t the case - Hell the idea likely hadn’t even entered his mind - and she was frustrated that she could see herself and hear herself giving him such a hard time when he didn’t deserve it, especially with him being so nervous about riding Meme, but for some reason she couldn’t stop herself. She huffed, apologising for being so difficult before folding her arms and busing herself with looking out the window, pointedly away from him. 

She head a heavy sigh from him. “It’s just... he’s so difficult, Ammy, I mean, he’s taken fingers from grooms and everything. He’s a little monster that’s not so little anymore and I just... I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Oh, she felt like scum hearing his voice sounding so... pleading. Like he was trying to say sorry for hurting her while trying to make his point. She chuckled mirthlessly and finally looked at him. “I’m not mad at you Harley... just irritable today I guess. I think I’d have gone on at you no matter what the subject was.” 

Harley relaxed, like her explanation was all he needed and made her promise that Barnabas would ride. He also managed to coerce her into cheering for him on Meme, shifting her focus to something more playful. 

By the time race day arrived, her irritation had left. Still, she watched as Harley nervously jittered about, marvelling at how calm the mare was in contrast to her jockey. She went through the usual routine calming him down but she was also quite nervous this time. For some reason she felt a proper kinship with that stallion, almost like she did with Fox though not half as strong, and actually had a lot of faith in him. She genuinely loved seeing him race and having some control over his race in Dubai was quite a thrill. She could only hope her eagerness was infectious. 

Demon was out of the starting gates like a Bat Out Of Hell. She whistled, watching the black splash colt as he tore forward, his large jockey pulling him back somewhat. He was something, far more trouble than Pharaoh ever was, even blinded he still raced on. 

Halfway through, though she noticed something didn’t seem right. Barnabas was suddenly having trouble though the pack was too far away for her to get a good look at why. She took a deep breath and prayed nothing had happened to the colt as she wouldn’t be able to look Waylon in the eye if anything happened to his rising star while she had been his temporary manager. 

When they pack drew nearer it was blatantly clear what was wrong: Demon was violently reaching for the horses beside him. Teeth bared he looked like his namesake and Barnabas was having to do some award-winning balancing to tug him away. Thank the Lord he was still blinded or he’d be murdering those other contestants. 

“How the hell...” she used binoculars to take a closer look and saw his noseband flopping limply across his face, clearly torn. “Jings, hows he break free of that noseband?!” 

-

Just because Demon was blinded didn’t mean he was unaware of his surroundings. He could still sense the other colts running astride himself and he was still ornery as all get out. Snapping threateningly he tugged away from his jockey, though Barnabas was well attuned to the colts behaviour and was quick to get him back under control. Since he had his figure-8 noseband on he couldn’t do any real damage. The problem was that Demon had picked the wrong horse to threaten. 

Having no vision to see exactly where he was snapping and had nearly clipped the jockey of FP Shadow Fox, a colt who was notoriously protective of his beloved jockey. Enraged that the son of Abaddon would dare to try harm Stephen, the white colt lunged back at Demon, managing to latch onto the straps of his noseband as Demon couldn’t see the attack to dodge it. Both jockeys seemed surprised by the colts on-track battle and Barnabas hadn’t had time to pull Demon away. Demon, startled by suddenly having teeth at his face, ripped away with an angry whinny, tearing the rubber straps of the figure-8. His his muzzle free the monster was let loose and he reached out blindly for the one who had dared to attack him. Barnabas, to his credit, was able to keep the colt running and managed to, somehow, stay balanced in the saddle atop a horse with murder written all over him. 

-

Well. She’d hate to hear Harley say he told her so. If she’d been riding him she’d have been off. Honestly, she’d never intended to ride him but her pride had made her consider it if only to prove Harley wrong. Now she was glad she’d just sucked it up and listened to him. They’d all have to put their faith in Barnabas and if Demon could stop trying to paint the town red for a few minutes to finish the race, preferably with a nice placing, that’d be great. Just until the race was over. Then he could go back to being a torag.