Chapters

Chapter One: The Abandonment of the Average
Chapter Two: The Paperwork Purgatory
Chapter Three: The Painful Preliminaries

Chapter One: The Abandonment of the Average
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The Memories of a Pale Man

Chapter One: The Abandonment of the Average

“That should be the last of it.” I said, placing the last box in the backseat of my Soviet-Era Sudan and looking back at my Mother

“Really?” she asked, looking exasperated “But that’s just four boxes.”

“I know, Ma.” I said leaning back on my car. It had been three days since my high-school graduation and I was itching to get out of Virginia; Richmond in particular. All of that rush had made me pack lightly, and all I had to show for eighteen years of living was two boxes of clothing, one for personal items, and a final one for whatever didn’t fit in either category, but I still wanted to bring. And with so little I still managed to have no room in the car; a small hunk of steel in the shape of a toaster, which I had bought off of a friend’s parent’s cousin or other relation, a good price considering that it had hardly been driven and had an engine.

“Well, I still can’t believe my baby is moving away from me...” she said, hugging me and pinning my arms by my side.

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too, Ma.” I said, lying through my teeth. “I have to get going or I won’t get to Charlottesville before night.”

“Alright,” she said, stepping back and looking at me, “Just go by your father’s house. He said he had a gift for you.” Placing her hands on her hips, she said, “I still can’t believe it. I can still remember when you were just a little baby, and I could hold you in my arms.” She mimed rocking a baby

I smiled, “Yeah, alright, I’ll just go to Dad’s now.” I turned around getting in my car and merely waved at my Mother for the last time.

“Will you come and visit?” she called.

“All the time.” I said leaning out the window, getting back in the car and saying to me and me alone, “You just need to be dead first.”

Continuing my drive towards the center of the city, I went over my life in Richmond; a regular life, parents splitting up, teenage depression. Average for a white kid, “Oh woe is me, for I have nobody and nothing,” typical stuff, I was glad that I had ever grown out of it. I know how lucky I am; I had a car, a job, a life to go to. Not everyone in Richmond could boast about having these.

I looked out the windshield. Though I wasn’t older than eighteen, the years I had been present on earth had been long and they showed. I was pale and scrawny with brownish-blond hair kept in a left part. I wore circular glasses that hid the circles under my eyes caused by long nights working at my job as a janitor at a local Comedy Club or staying up til dawn on schoolwork. My fashion was bland if not ordinary, consisting of worn slip-ons and slim pants, usually in company of these would be a white tee-shirt. The only thing about me that would be considered remotely odd would be my jacket, an old World War Two Army Ranger’s jacket with one addition: A white band on the left arm that had the word “Brony” in a cross pattern overlapping at the “O” in an attempt to look like a Medic. I had put a lot of work into making that arm band and it showed, you’d have to take a knife to it to get one of the letters even loose. I was a Brony and a damned fine one at that, I could name every pony from Twilight Sparkle down to Tucks and Tails, one of Mayor Mare’s aids.

Looking around at my surroundings I could see that I was now in one of the rougher parts of the city. I looked out the window seeing the usual sights; pimps, drug dealers, and vagabonds in this part of town. It didn’t really matter what time of day it was, they just did their dealings and the cops didn’t bother to arrest them. Some were even paid off by some of the better “Business Men” in the area to look the other way. It was sometimes a little hard to believe that my father lives in the area, but then again he was always short on money and nothing’s cheaper than an apartment in an area with a high crime rate.

Arriving out by my father’s apartment block, I set the car in park, locked it, and moved to go upstairs. Then I turned around and made sure that all of the windows were up and the doors were locked. Looking at the old place, my father had lived there a decade. I still wondered why; the apartments were small and were heated by a boiler all throughout the year. But still I came to his house every week, I had always liked my father, a giant of man that resembled John Travolta but just a little taller, never one to beat around the bush; he taught me “the birds and the bees” when I was nine, the whole shebang with diagrams and a whiteboard; looking back he could have pushed me into asexuality with that lecture. Still, he was the most lighthearted of my family when I said that I was moving north to Boston or New York, wherever my car broke down first, though I had said New York as a destination.

“I got you something, Jacob.” he said, turning around and holding out a dusty wooden box. “I think you’ll need it more than me if you get to New York.” he smiled. I took the box and opened it carefully; inside was an old Navy Issued Revolver. I took it out, seeing that it was old but well kept. “I got it when your Grandma's friend died, I never knew why.” he said, looking at the handgun.

“Did you get any bullets for it when you got it?” I asked, looking at him and placing the gun back in its box.

“Yeah, I think so.” he said, putting the box on the coffee table and turning around, only to turn back with a box of what looked to be .45 bullets. I took the box and pulled out one of the bullets before placing the box on the coffee table. Then, taking out the revolver again, I opened it and placed the bullet in the chamber, and after seeing it was the correct caliber, put the revolver away in its respective place.

I hugged my father. “Thanks Dad, this is by far the most useful gift I’ve gotten.”

“You’re welcome, I just hope you won’t need to use it where you’re going.” he said. Jokingly he added, “I’d give you a condom but I’m all out.” he laughed

I deadpanned, “Only you, Dad...” I said.

“Yeah, well, you better get going or you won’t get there or something like that.” Dad said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah,” I said, “I got a lot of ground to cover.” I took the boxes and moved to the door.

“Good luck, son.” Dad said after me as I left through the door.

Though I had told my parents that I needed to get out of town before nightfall, that wasn’t entirely true. Opening my car and getting inside, I place the boxes on the passenger side seat. I then pulled a small yellowing piece of paper from the breast pocket of my jacket.

“It’ll be good to see you again, Alejandro.” I said aloud. Looking at the sky I saw it was getting to the late hours of the day, but it was still too late for me to work on what was needed. I decided in my free time to go by the Paterson Express. I had known the owners pretty well and they had been more of a father figure than my own father in hard times for me. I would walk in everyday after school to get some food and advice from one of the two brothers.

“Hey, Man! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!” Alex said as I walked through the door, a little jingle going off from the bell above the door.

“Hey, Alex.” I said, grabbing a root beer from the fridges that were lined up along the side of the shop. “So, how have you and Justin been in my absence?” I asked.

“Justin? His degree finally paid off.” Alex said gesturing wildly, as though people with a masters in mathematics getting a job was unheard of. “He went and got a job teaching at RCU.”

“Teaching what?” I asked, legitimately wondering about his success as I popped the cap on the soda.

“Algebra or something.” Alex said, shrugging and taking notice of the soda “You gonna pay for that?” he asked.

“Huh?” I paused, then looking at the bottle “Oh, yeah. Right...” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a five dollar bill. Alex took it and started to ring up my purchase when I said “I kind of hate to just show up and run, but…”

Alex cut me off. “No, if ya gotta go somewhere don’t let me keep you up.” he finished and gave me my change “Two thirty-seven.” he added.

“Thanks.” I said, leaving and pausing with the door open, a faint breeze blowing in. “See you later, then.” I said, waving

“You too.” Alex responded

I nodded, turned, and left.

Getting back in my car I looked at the sky and saw that it was darker, still some time so I drove to a nearby alleyway and popped the trunk. Looking at a box that had already been there, I grabbed it and opened it to take inventory. I pulled back the flaps and pulled out the items one at a time. A lawn mower blade that had been wrapped in rope on one end and sharpened to make a makeshift machete, a length heavy metal pipe, and short shovel that had been sharpened as well. “I hope none of these break.” I sighed looking at the macabre assortment of weapons. Glancing back at the sky I saw it was finally time.

Adjusting my mirror and backing up into the street I was met with a few yells of disapproval, but they fell on deaf ears as I sped off in my Sudan. As I drove I kept a close eye on the streets, I had been keeping tabs on many of my… well my, targets, in the time leading up to my departure from my “home”. I was lucky that Alejandro had moved out of his mother’s house and into a flat near the Shako Slip, a row of dirty bars leading down to the James River. Pulling up not a block away from his apartment I pulled into a parking lot and moved to the back, I popped the trunk and pulled a black pinstripe vest, a pair of black dress pants and belt, a white arrow collar shirt, a black silk cravat, and finally a pair of wing tipped shoes. Changing into them and rolling up the cuffs of the shirt I placed a white canvas apron over the entire ensemble. Looking at it all and brushing a speck of dirt off of the leg of my pants, even as a child I had planned on this very night it had taken me forever to finally stop caring about getting caught, but if one thing stuck it was how I would look while committing my deeds, cleansing the earth of the filth that I deemed unworthy. Glancing at a sterling silver pocket watch I had purchased from and antique shop a week ago I saw it was just around nine thirty. Perfect, I thought grabbing the makeshift machete, which was definitely my favorite out of the bunch, and headed down to the third building on my left. Looking up at the fire escape and shaking my head, it always had to be something; I placed the weapon on the ground and got a garbage can positioning it just right and getting on top. Reaching for the long neglected steel ladder, I missed once, twice, three times and hit grabbing it and swinging in the air for a moment before jerking my body to bring the ladder down. After a bit of noise I had it to a point where I could grab my weapon and bring it with me, checking my watch again before I started I saw it was almost ten. Closing it I started up the ladders.

Arriving at the top I was happy to see that Alejandro wasn’t home yet and that he left his windows unlocked. Pushing with all my might I was able to open it enough to crawl in (about a foot) looking around I went to the fridge in the small and dirty kitchen, opening it and looking about inside of it I saw a Sanpellegrino, a fine orange soda made in Italy, sitting alone next to some grapes of questionable freshness. I pulled it out and placing my blade on the counter I opened it and took a sip. Thinking on what lead up to this man’s imminent demise, Alejandro Ramirez was decent when I met him, kind of a saint in my time of need, I shared secrets with him and we had a decent friendship. We stayed good friends up until high school, when he called me an ass and insulted my honor. Yep, he knew too much and insulted me, so the punishment in my own little world was death, nice and short, black and white, I liked it that way.

I sat around for a short while longer until I heard the tell tale sound of a key being fumbled at the lock. Taking the blade from the counter and moving to the bedroom, he opened the door and walked in, from the look of him you wouldn’t think he was Cuban, tall and skinny, with a curly brown afro that looked closer to a wig than his actual hair, the only Cuban thing about him was his tan skin, which he kept in good condition, he wore some khaki shorts and an old “Pink Floyd” tee, worn around the edges. His brown eyes flashed with annoyance as he grumbled about work being hard on his back “maybe he had gotten a job down near the docks” I thought to myself. He started to unload the groceries from the bags into the pantry. I took the chance and stood up and held the blade behind my back as I walked across the room as though I had seen him every day and not just three years past. He looked up hearing me approach

“Wha? Jacob?” he asked looking surprised “What are you doing here?”

I walked on unphased; I was halfway across the room as I raised the blade from behind my back letting it glint in the dim light cast from his ceiling lamp

“What are you doing with that?” he said unsettled, backing away “Jacob?”

I kept advancing, the 1812 Overture playing in my head as I covered the final distance to him, grinning all the more

“Get back, Jacob” Alejandro said raising a can of beans to defend him “Get back!”

Took one more step, the crescendo of instruments in my head hit the climax, I silently lunged towards him aiming to slam the sharp side of the blade into his temple, I missed blood spurting from the wound on his chin, he clung to it and screamed in pain, I frowned raising the blade and hitting over the head, he continued to yell in pain and beg for life, I hit again and again until he fell to his knees and then finally he fell face down, blood dripping from my blade, covering his floor, bits of his skull lying on the floor next to his head, I smiled and looked around, blood stained nearly every surface covering the walls and floor, I paused to look at myself. My hands and apron were stained along with some of my face and the bottoms of my shoes. It was going to be hell to clean, then I remembered the thing that was useful about murder, I went through his pockets, I pulled out his wallet and took the cash, I also found a gold ring with some Celtic runes and symbols carved into it around his ring finger. Standing up I looked at his groceries, they were the usual foodstuffs one would see in a small apartment such as the one I was in; ramen, sardines, milk. I looked through the bags and grabbed them, I then paused and tossed the milk on the floor letting it spill onto the body and floor.

Leaving by the front door I headed downstairs before his neighbor could come out. I scurried down the steps and left through the front door coming closer towards my car I thought on who was next, on a map I would be closest to Nick’s house. Nick Winooski was close to the same deal with Alejandro, save his being an outright bastard that didn’t give much to public relations. I knew him in middle school, he and I ran a small ring of businesses in the school. Namely he and I had a monopoly on the gambling rackets, he got the resources and I rigged and advertised the business. After a year or so working with him I went and told him a little about myself, which, in turn, he used to formulate lies, rumors, and foolish stories that followed me for years later. Effectively destroying the six locations we had and the fifteen people on the payroll. I had gotten around five hundred dollars from the whole endeavor, but it was nothing compared to the potential funds I could have made. Arriving at the car I tossed the blade and the bags of food into the trunk. Shutting the trunk I looked at the sky, it was nice

“Luna you did a good job tonight” I said to the sky

I got into the car and got comfortable, driving out of the parking lot and onto the street, flipping on the radio to 88.9 or NPR, they were playing their usual, classical and I listened to it for the twenty minutes it took to get to Nick’s house. A small three story brick building, his flat should be number three, which should be on the first floor. Stepping out of the car and looking at my watch I saw it was eleven twenty three, I was late. I hated being late I went to the trunk and opened it, pulling out the pipe. Looking at a passerby that was giving me a look I smiled, which was a loose term as it looked as though I was going to kill him, he quickly hurried out of the area as I moved to the building. I was going to have to make Nick’s death quick, quicker than Alejandro’s.

I knocked on the door and sang a little verse from a song I remembered as I waited, after a few moments I heard a sound of a dead bolt being unlocked. Stepping far enough to the side of the door not to be seen from inside I waited as the door opened and a “Hello?” was heard as I readied my arm. Nick went a little farther into the hallway sticking his head into view. He was of Russian descent, he had a crop of black hair that was kept in a ponytail. His eyes, seemingly kind in nature,were simultaneously unnerving. One could go so far as to say they that he was bug eyed, and their dull grey blue color went directly against any earlier sentiment. He had grown a goatee in the years since I last saw him and it waved slightly in the faint breeze of the open doors.

“Who left those open?” he said to himself looking away from me and walking to the door, he was about the same height as before but he was an awful bit fatter now; the red slippers and polyester robe didn’t help to cover that up. He shut the door and turned around looking momentarily confused as I took aim and swung downward onto his head, effectively knocking him unconscious. Looking at his bloated figure I sighed, grabbed his arms and dragged him inside, getting stuck on the frame for a moment before I finally got him back inside and shut the door.

Nicks flat was much nicer than Alejandro’s, with carpeting, a flat screen TV, and leather furniture. It was a pity no one would appreciate it beyond this night. I locked the door and turned to Nick, going through his pockets. Finding a few bills, I counted them, then moved on. Seeing what was around his neck, I grabbed a silver pendant with a picture of the sun and moon on it. I put the stuff away in my own pockets and looked down just as he started moving about.

“Guh” he coughed “Wha-what hit me?” He paused looking up at me “Jacob?”

I looked at him and smiled, causing him to relax. Leaning down, I grabbed the pipe swung it upwards into his chin, resulting in a satisfying crunch that put his hand to his mouth as it started to drip blood. He looked at me confused. I was forced to swing down as he scrambled to get up, hearing another crunching sound, and it appeared that the cement I had painstakingly poured into the end of the pipe was paying off. He slumped back down onto the carpet. I hit again and again, hearing a final crunch as his head broke, smashing open not to unlike a watermelon. I jerked back in surprised getting some of his brain onto my pants. As I looked at the crumbling face of another enemy, I remembered reading somewhere that brains were seen as a delicacy. Pausing, I stuck my finger into the mess of bloody grey matter and popped it into my mouth, spitting it out a moment later. My verdict: metallic, not worth the trouble of getting, I went back to smashing a window and leaving through there, falling onto a couple of cardboard boxes in the process. Rolling over and groaning, it took me a moment to finally I stand and brush myself off; and headed back to the car.

Driving along to my mother’s house I thought about just how much I hated the portly woman that birthed me. She was short and had blond hair worn in a long fashion. She should be asleep at this time but if not I would smash her head in with the bloody pipe still residing in my trunk.

Arriving at the house I opened it with my key.My father, a drunken pole, was long dead from liver failure, and I hated my mother. One may think that I loved her, but she used me and even openly admitted that I was the accident. She used me as the labor; I was the janitor/electrician/plumber/cook of the family. What, a frayed wire? Don’t call a professional, that Jacob’s job. Even after I got a job, they took the my money for themselves; that is my mother and her sadistic boyfriend. The two of them made an account for my paychecks and didn’t put my name on it, barring me from withdrawal. The last straw, however, was when my mother had a child with that slug of a man. I remember reading somewhere that being burned alive was the worst way to die, the last of your moments filed with the pain of your skin burning off. I found that quite suitable.

I opened the front door as quietly as I could, I ran to the car and took the gas can from my trunk and walked back inside. I started with the stairs, then moved onto the kitchen area, eventually moving through the house and to the front door, all the while making sure not to get any on myself. I finally poured the last of the gasoline onto the floor leading up to the doorway, I walked out and lit a match; I always kept some on me, being a firebug helped me out in some ways. I smiled when I remembered my mother taking one of my favorite toys as a child, when I asked her she said it was because it promoted violence. I wondered if she did the opposite when she said that. I tried to light the match, I tried again. After three more matches I tossed the lit match into the room and shut the front door. I walked a little further getting to the car and watched as the fire spread up to the top floor. I got in and drove out to a small pizzeria not too far from the house waiting for Lloyd, my mother’s boyfriend, to drive up.

As I waited I thought on my family, I had two sisters one was with my father, I had made sure that, she was okay and was nice enough for a teenager, so I let her and my father live. I looked out at the shop, broken from my daydreams seeing that the car I was waiting for was here. The man who had brought nothing but agony into my life went inside, grabbed a few pizzas, and left for his next delivery; he was Asian with a scruffy black beard and hair, he always had a calm demeanor, the thing that he wouldn’t leave the house without was a Miami Dolphins hat and matching jacket. I followed him to his delivery, another shady area of town with no streetlights, as he came back to his car I went up to him with the bloody pipe.

“Jacob?” he said looking at me

Without a word I smashed the pipe into his shin braking it or just causing some pain he dropped I grabbed his hair and dragged him into the street

“Why did you-” That was all he got out before he was smashed in the mouth, followed by both his arms and legs until each was broken.

“Guess what Lloyd?” I said leaning down “Today you get to feel eight years of pain all at once and then die. How’s that sound?” I took out the knife and plunged it into his shoulder “Oh, I think you should know first, you daughter and girlfriend? Their dead now, burned alive”

“Ju basgard” he said spitting out blood.

Before he could say anything else I smashed him in the chest with the pipe, pulling the knife from his arm I cut two horizontal lines followed by a vertical one, then I pulled them back seeing that they were indeed broken, I looked at his face, I looked back at his chest I didn’t care if he was dead or not right now, I ripped out his organs and flesh with wild abandon, tearing bone, flesh, and skin from his torso until there was nothing left but a few bones and organs. Finally I came to what I was after the whole time, by this point I expected that he was long since dead and thanks to the lack of lights no one had seen my act or called the authorities yet. I glared at his heart with hunger. I reached in and ripped it from his chest and bit into it, chewing for a few seconds before spitting the disgusting piece of flesh onto his face. As I stood up I saw his eyes and opted for my own hands for this operation, I grabbed his left eye and working my fingers around the orb I pulled it out, little by little, as I pulled the eye farther out I felt the unmistakable feeling of the it squish in my palm. Not worth it, I let go of it wiping my hands on my apron. I grabbed the pipe and looked back at the body. I felt the anger well up inside of me and I smashed the body hitting it again and again until the body was nothing more than a red mess I walked back to the trunk tossing the pipe in with the rest.

I looked at my watch, a little past two, just one more and off to life. Getting in the car I tried to start it, and it stalled, I tried again and it started up, I needed to get to a bar in the shako area, I had asked a friend to meet me there around midnight. I remembered the conversation being pretty hard, he kept asking why he had to meet me “Cause my parents are going to keep me late man” I kept saying, it took forever but I managed it. Ryan, nice guy, I didn’t want to kill him but it was necessary, I hate having baggage and I had decided a month prior that anyone that knew anything about my life from the age of 13-16 was to die. It was the easiest way I could move on from that horrible time, while most kids did drugs or yell at their parents, I indulged in some kleptomania and if anything I want to remove any trace of that incident from the world.

I drove around getting lost for a short time until I finally arrived at the backwater bar I had made the destination, Ryan was already there waiting on the hood of a nice car. I drove up and stepped out, feeling the tremors in the ground from his sound system. I saw Ryan still had the well maintained hair that he always did, spiked up in it’s usual style and complemented by the Nikey glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. He wore blue jeans and a t-shirt with a design I couldn't quite make out. Standing at six feet tall, he was a giant in comparison to me. I could only hope to surprise him.

“Hey Ryan.” I said waving trying to stay out of the direct light.

“Hey Jacob, care to tell me why you wanted me here?” Ryan said a little more than peeved from his long trip “It took me

six hours to get here, so it better be urgent.”

“Just wanted to see you again” I said trying to sound friendly “Why don’t you come over here” I said moving to the trunk of the car

“Oy bitch, I came all this way. Least you could do it come to me.” He joked like usual.

“JUST COME OVER HERE!” I screamed losing my composure and slamming my fist onto the car, creating a loud metallic sound

Ryan jerked back “What the hell’s wrong with you Jacob? Your acting fucking weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Just. Come. Over. Here” I said opening the trunk and grabbing the shovel

“Alright. Hold onto your tampon.” Ryan said edging forward a little

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS” I screamed snapping and running forward

Ryan, surprised, swung blindly, clocking me in the side of my face knocking me aside. Taking this chance he grabbed the knife and pointed it at me “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“No time to think. I think, I’ll regret and stop. No thinking, just do it.” I babbled standing and stumbling forward.

“You finally snap?” Ryan asked lifting the shovel with a confused expression “What’d I do to you, man? I’m your damn friend! We went to Bronycon together, remember?”

“No stopping. Think later. Death, death is the only solution” I continued still stumbling forward

“Watch yourself or I’ll put you down like a damn dog!” Ryan said swinging the knife from side to side

My head snapped up “Do ya really think yawl be swingin’ that there stick, lass?” I said in a slight Irish accent “Or will you just threaten me with it?” I finished

“My God, he’s lost it.” Ryan said lowering the knife a little confused on the response.

“DIE!” I yelled covering the final distance of about five feet before jumping and swinging my fists wildly, clocking Ryan on his arm and cheek. He responded by slashing at me with the knife putting a gash in my side. I put my hand to my side and came back with blood. Ryan kicked me in the stomach, tossing me back a good two yards. He was much bigger than me and therefor had a huge advantage, he came closer. I scooted back, trying to maintain a safe distance.

“You’ve fucked up now.” Ryan said gritting his teeth. I kept scooting back until I hit the side of my car. I looked to the

side and saw I had left the door open. I went through the clutter that was my mind and came back with one thing; the revolver. I scrambled for the car door. “Oh, no you don’t.” Ryan said grabbing my leg and dragging me away. I kicked his hand making him let go long enough for me to stand, run for the door, and lunge inside to grab the box that housed the gun. I pulled it out as Ryan grabbed me again. Turning around, I vaguely aimed at his head and hoping that there was a bullet under the hammer.

“Here come the spoons, bitch.” I said pulling the trigger and hearing nothing.

I pulled the trigger again and still nothing.

“Dumbass.” Ryan said with a smirk.

Ryan kicked my hand with his boot, smashing my fingers and making me drop the gun. I scrambled in the direction reaching out for it in one final attempt. The black boot came down onto my wrist, crushing it, but not breaking it. Ryan reached down and grabbed the pistol I was so desperately reaching for, pointing it at my head from above. “You have to cock the hammer, moron” he said aiming at me and a click was heard “You have to plan your murders out more carefully.”

“No you can’t do this.” I said in a voice just above a whisper

“Frankly, you aren't in a position to argue.” Ryan said with a bit of anger behind his words.

“Money; I’ll give you money. Just let me go.” I pulled the bills from my pocket “Just don’t kill me.”

Ryan lifted his foot a little in hesitation, always being the one to get some cash in any way possible that wasn’t stealing. I took the chance and pulled my arm from under his boot, running forward out of fear and hope, hope to live another day, to see another sunrise...

As the last though went through my head I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot going off behind me, then I felt a pressure on my back, I looked down seeing a hole in my chest. I walked a few more feet dropping to my knees. I tried to speak only to cough up some blood, the red staining the white of my apron, mixing with the blood of my friends and family, Alejandro, Nick, Loyd they were all dead because of my past hate. I coughed again the red was on the ground now. If I could have spoken I would have said something like “Odd that enlightenment comes when you least need it” but I didn’t, I only looked at the hole in me and fall. As I fell forward I realized that these thoughts were to be my last and they meant nothing.

“Game over, traitor.” I heard Ryan cursed me as my eyes stared blankly into the gravel. I felt the tremors of his footsteps as he walked over and kneeled next to me “Say hello to the devil for me.”

As he said these words I noticed that it sounded like I had cotton shoved in my ears, tried to ask Ryan to pull it out but only managed to close my eyes. I was so tired, I decided it would be best to just rest there for a while.

Once I closed my eyes the black faded to white

And then... Nothing

Chapter Two: The Paperwork Purgatory
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The Memories of a Pale Man

Chapter Two: The Paperwork Purgatory

First I felt nothing, not the darkness that I thought would come after death, a conscious prison for the rest of time, but a feeling of nothing. After an amount of time, I felt, or rather I believed I should have felt, a pulling at the center of my chest. And as this feeling grew stronger I felt as though I was moving. Faster and faster I went until I felt that I had hit a wall.

I woke up jolting out of my seat, I looked around there were small wooden chairs spreading out in a large liner pattern. Almost all of them were filled with people that looked... odd, to say in the least.

“A kid why don’t yous sit down” I heard a gruff voice say behind me say

I turned around, in front of me there was a middle aged man with greying combed back hair and pencil thin mustache, he looked like he was Italian and his accent proved it. He wore a pea-green suit and matching fedora, a burning cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, out of the corner of my eye I saw the strap of a shoulder holster. I blinked at him a little confused, because clashing with the color of his suit were fifteen holes going across his midsection. As I looked at the red stain clashing with the green of the suit I noticed that none of the holes were letting out the life blood that so many of us needed.

“Yous gunna look at me all day or is you gonna sit the fuck down” The stout man said

“Um, uh, sit down” I said returning to my seat, I looked at the man for a few more seconds before saying “I don’t mean to be a bother but, where are we?” I said punctuating the sentence with a wave of my hand encompassing the white void.

The man looked at me “You ain’t too bright is yous kid” the man said in a matter-of-fact way “You is dead as a doornail an’ this here, this is... uh” the man seemed confused “Ah, yeah that’s right, this here is Pug-i-tery”

I looked at the man Trying to define what he was saying, after a few short seconds with a confused look on my face I lit up. “You must mean Purgatory” I said

“Yous always that much of a ass to the people yous just met?” the man said crossing his arms and leaning back letting a few wisps of smoke escape from the holes on his chest as he took a long drag of his cigarette

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to be rude.” I stuttered

“Nah, it ain't no problem” said the man “Name’s Larry the Fish” the man said sticking out a hand. I grabbed it and as he shook it wildly he said “Tommy Gun Missfire at the bank downtown”

“Jacob Stansbury” I responded

Larry the Fish let go and looked at me waiting for something, I looked back. Finally he said breaking the silence like a hammer on ice. “You know it’s polite to tell other people how yous died” he said looking rather irritated.

“Oh, sorry” I stammered taken off guard “Murdered with my own gun in an attempted murder”

Larry the Fish whistled “That sounds pretty bad”

“Yeah” I said rubbing the back of my neck, I looked down at the ground “Hey Larry?”

“What?”

“Is this sand?” I said leaning over and scooping up the pure white sand letting it sift through my fingers

“What the hell do yous think it is” Larry the Fish responded

“Yes?”

“Is you askin me or tellin me?”

“Telling you?”

“God dammit, if yous is gunna act this goddamn stupid all the fucking time just get the fuck away from me” he said as he grabbed the collar of my shirt and threw me from my chair.

I got up and dusted myself off, I turned to look at him and opened my mouth to speak, but before I could a loud voice sounding like it was coming from a loudspeaker but careful inspection would prove that there were none, the voice repeated its words “Larry Stromlinie” the voice said “Report to the front desk for evaluation and departure”

Larry the Fish in the direction of a small oak desk around two hundred feet from his location. He looked back at me and made a “forget you, n’ your fancy ass words” kind of sound and ran towards the desk

I watched him go and turned around, I proceeded to wander around the grounds of purgatory. The residents were kind enough and I had more than a few conversations including one with an accountant killed in a house fire, a soldier backed over with a tank (he was a little flat (pun intended), and a civil war reenactor who had his gun explode in his hands. The result of this was two bloodied stumps. All of them had interesting things to say, as did I. When you were dead you didn’t really care about what the other people on earth and surrounding dimensions thought about you.

I heard some odd thoughts on the prison that we had all been placed in. Some believed that it was a sort of “Celestia Waiting Room” and they were all on their way to heaven or hell once they were “Evaluated and marked for departure”. Speaking to a priest I was able to find what the Christian Community thought. He had thought that god had decided to give us all a test, a test of patience. And those who remained calm for however long they were there would be allowed into heaven. Most of the other Monotheistic religions thought the same, I spoke with a good thirty holy men from each religion. Although one of the Rabbis just yelled at me for not greeting him properly. Finally after having hundreds of conversations I sat down tired beyond comparison and looked at my watch. When I pulled it out I saw a major problem, the hands were not moving. I shook it and put my ear to it, hearing nothing I wound it with the same result.

“It won't work you know” a small voice with a faint british accent said

I turned to the side and saw nothing, the other side yielded no results.

“To you left” the voice said

I turned once again in confusion, there sat a man that I had overlooked. He was plain, so plain in fact that my mind simply didn’t take him into acount. Forcing myself to focus on him I noticed that he was a man of average height and weight in his early forties, he had a fair complexion and black hair worn in a nicely combed but plain way. He had a thin mustache that looked rather plain. His Clothing was of a brown wool sport coat and white shirt matched with grey trousers. His shoes were of a black leather that was polished to a dull and plain sheen. But the defining feature of this man was the hangman’s noose hanging limply around his neck, which was bent slightly to the left with a small protrusion from the side .

“Sorry” I said “I didn’t see you there” I said looking at the man and feeling my concentration trying to slid off of him

He sighed “No one ever does” he said turning to me “Arthur Silkends, hung at the neck until dead as per order of the Vermont Court of Law”

He paused as the voice spoke up “Ronald Green report to the front desk for evaluation and departure”

I stopped and listened to the voice oddly compelled to listen “Jacob Stansbury” I responded “Shot with my own gun in an attempted murder”

Arthur looked at me appraisingly “You don’t look like the type to murder for profit Mr. Stansbury”

“I didn’t” I said “I did it for a personal vendetta and fun”

Arthur said nothing for a minute before saying “Good to see another man that does it for his own means” he said as he stuck out his hand and shook mine firmly “How many of the buggers did you get”

I responded with a smile and a laugh as I said “Five, all of them a bloody as you could get”

“Good, good” he said letting go of my hand “Nothing compared to my thirty-seven” he said patting me on the shoulder “But still good”

“Thank you sir” I said looking down at my hand and seeing the pocket watch, forgetting about it for the moment and asking a different question “Thirty-seven? Why did you kill so many?”

Arthur looked back at me and adjusted his hangman’s noose that was secured tightly around his neck “Let me tell you my life story, because telling it any other way wouldn't make sense” he paused stroking his mustache “I was born on august twenty-first, nineteen eighteen. My childhood was a lonely one. Always to be the last one chosen for the rugby match, if I was chosen at all. So many people just couldn't see me. Through the rest of my life I spent it trying to be noticed, not for attention, but only to have people know I existed.” He coughed, a loud ragged sound a result of a life of cigarettes and a death of a broken neck “It worked out for me I suppose, living a normal life I mean,”

The voice started again “Stepone Jackson report to the front desk for evaluation and departure”

He continued seemingly unphased by the interruption.”I got a job and lived quite happily for a while. But eventually I guess I was fed up with being invisible. So I started killing people, but the most frustrating thing was their expressions as they were killed, as though someone had just told them that they were out of their favorite spread at the market kind of like they were saying. “Oh dear, I’m being bludgeoned to death with this fifteenth century mace, what are the odds of that?” and “I can’t believe my luck getting run over with a crop harvester.” And I would yell at them “My name is Arthur Silkends, I am killing you now, will you please take some bloody notice” shaking his fist for emphasis. He paused and turned to me making sure I was listening, I was. “I’ve actually had police officers in my house looking at me covered head to toe in blood and asking me if I’d seen my neighbor recently. “Why yes, it was when I stabbed her to death with this very letter opener” “Well thank you very much sir, we have many more houses to visit, have a nice day.” He laid his head in his hands, silent and sullen.

I looked at him, and decided to not disturb him, I waited for seemed like years, eons even. We sat in perfect silence until I decided to speak up “What was that about it not working” I said looking at him

“Time doesn't work here” he said raising his head with some effort and pulling out his watch to show “It’s my theory that we are in some kind of a pocket dimension”

“Pocket dimension?” I said looking at him raising an eyebrow

“Yes, a kind of a waiting room” he pointed at the small desk in the distance “You see that man there?”

I looked at the speck in the distance, turning back to him “Yeah, what of it?”

“I think that’s the “Saint Peter” of this world, the person that deals out judgment that determines our fate. And he is the sort of ruler of this world, this dimension which takes all of the people who die on the east coast of the United States”

“Huh, really?” I said looking back at the small man at the desk “How does it work, the judging and such?”

“Oh, well I think that once you arrive here you’re put on a sort of list which he calls off every so often” he said

The odd loudspeaker voice spoke up “Henry Mancini report to the front desk for evaluation and departure”

“Like that” Arthur said pointing upward “He calls out a name every so often usually a few minutes apart”

“Well how long have you been waiting?” I asked

“Well that depends, what year is it?” he said adjusting his tie slightly

“Well” I paused thinking “When I was killed it was the june of twenty fifteen”

Arthur hummed to himself as he scratched his head “I was killed in nineteen fifty six” he paused doing some math in his head “so I’ve been here for at least fifty nine years” he paused “yep, fifty nine years”

“What?” I said exasperated “Fifty nine years?”

“Well a lot of people die Mr. Stansbury” he looked at me again “as a murderer you of all people should know that” he leaned back in his seat. I tried to talk to him more with no success. So I slumped back into my chair, defeated. Arthur Silkends just looked at me as though I was crazy for a few minutes he stayed like that, but of course when you were dead time is very liquid in thought. He stood up and just walked away as though we had never spoken. I said nothing, I was too tired. I stayed there talking to a few people t of them kind of just faded into chairs and awoke as though they were sleeping. Some wildly and some vaguely quiet. I guessed it had something to do with your acceptance of death. The other thing I noted is that though you were of the same age that you were at death, any physical problems were gone. Everything from arthritis to heart burn faded away as soon as you arrived in this “Celestial Waiting” room.

As time passed none of the occupants aged or grew hungry. The only noise was one of several polite and quiet conversations scattered through the room. Looking at the impossibly empty sky I heard the voice pipe up from the invisible loudspeaker system

“Jacob Stansbury report to the front desk for evaluation and departure” it said as lifeless as ever.

I stood, untouched by the time I had spent sitting in the wooden chairs. I walked to the small oak desk feeling no fatigue as I moved through the sea of people, as I arrived at the desk after the three mile hike that it took me to get there. I looked for the occupant, first I saw and heard nothing, until a small man climbed onto the chair carrying a bottle of bourbon that he placed on his table. He was short no taller than three feet. He wore a grey pinstripe waistcoat with matching pants. A small gold chain extended from one of the waistcoats pockets to the other. His shirt was a pressed white linen that was almost as pure as the sand that this world was made from, around both of his arms at the elbow was a small gold band that kept his sleeves from dipping into the ink that was in bottles on every available surface. His skin was a deep olive and his hair was a deep black that that was kept in place by a small green visor. He was clean shaven though he had a thin shine of stubble that gave him a haggard appearance. He got atop his chair and tossed a large leather-bound book onto the table. The book itself, like the man who carried it looked very old and haggard in appearance, worn at the edges and stained in several areas, not all of them ink. Moving slowly and methodically, he picked up one of the many quills on the desk and dipped it in one of the ink bottles.

“Name?” he said with a thick spanish accent

A little surprised at both his appearance and his voice I hesitated slightly

“Name?” he repeated a little peeved at my hesitation

“Oh um, sorry” I said stammering coughing at the dust that seemed to accumulate in my lungs in their lack of use “Jacob Stansbury”

He opened the book with little effort to a page that was filled with names “Age?” he asked

“Eighteen” I said fiddling with my thumbs

He scribbled some writing down followed by some numbers “Religion at time of death?”

I paused, thinking on what my religion was, I had prayed to Celestia and Luna after I had prayed to them on one occasion and said prayer was, so to speak, answered. but I didn't know if it had a name. “I prayed to Celestia and Luna” I said finally

He didn’t look up and simply pulled a second book from a drawer of the desk. He placed it on the book and flipped through it stopping on a single page and dragging his finger down the side stopping on a single one for a few moments mouthing some words. As I tried to read his lips he finished, closed the book, and looked up at me “The forty third door on you left” he said abruptly. Pushing a small button on the desk and pulling the ticket that came from it “There you go, put the ticket into the slot next to the door, if you get lost the doors are numbered along with your ticket” he handed me the ticket, and took a swig from the waiting bottle of bourbon

I walked past him to the small hallway that was filled with doors. I looked back to see the man pull a small intercom from a drawer and speak into it. Only to hear it a few moments afterward. I decided to keep walking. I looked at my ticket, in curvy font it said “Door 86.” I looked at the closest door in the same font it said “Door 12.” It was going to be a long while before I reached my destination.

I kept walking along reading off all of the doors “Door 18, Door 19.” I thought about what had happened up to this point “Door 23, Door 24.” The people that I had killed, my friends and family “Door 61, Door 62.” Wondering if I regretted it or not

“Door 86.” I slid the ticket into the small slot next to the door I waited. I remembered one of the things I had learned in life, a sort of self owned philosophy. “Know what you're doing when you’re doing it, Learn from your mistakes to not make them, and never regret the things in the past.” The past was unchanging and silent.

The door swung open revealing a fiery pit and screams of pain, I looked into it and shrugged, if this was to be my new home, so be it, seeing as there was little to chose from. Death had made me uncaring for my well being.

I stepped forward and fell into the pit, landing on my face as I hit the ground I felt my soul or simply my mind being knocked back into me to me. I pulled myself up to see hanging cadavers of all shapes and sizes, all of them screaming. I was in a very bad place. I rushed to my feet and turned around, to fast it would seem as I fell over again. Scrambling to me feet once again I decided to feverishly try to find out where I was. if I knew that I could at least know what to expect. I looked in all directions seeing nothing I saw the door and moved to get to it, the sanctity of the white sand-filled world. I then started looking around to find something to climb up to the door, hanging in the slight breeze of this fire filled world.

I ran about lost in the world, until I felt the ground shake under my feet. I stopped until I heard a loud sound come from behind me, it sounded rather like someone clearing their throat. I remained silent and still as a stone.

“You there” a low rumbling voice called. I turned and pointed at my chest “Yes you, what is it that you think you're doing in this area?” There standing or maybe growing from the ground was a massive flaming beast that was in an almost humanoid shape. He was a bright orange and radiated heat as tough an oven would. How he could talk on the other hand was a mystery, he didn’t seem to have a mouth or nose, just two large gaps in his being that showed the flames and pain behind him.

I paused thinking, what could I say to such a thing “I..I ju..just arrived” I finally said pointing at the door

The thing looked at me in a sort of way and materialized a large clipboard made from flames, the thing stood there with the clipboard for a few moments before saying “Well? When do you think you’ll grace me with your name? I haven't got a millennia to waste”

“J...Jacob Stansbury” I said staring at the flaming monster

It looked through the flaming clipboard pausing “Dammit Simmons” it said aloud before looking at me “Well it’s your lucky...” it paused looking at me very aggravated “It’s very rude to stare you know” it said materializing a whip and hitting me across the chest. I doubled over in pain. “Now that I have your attention” the thing continued as though nothing had happened “I was saying todays your lucky day, your not on our roster which means that Simmons made

another mistake” before I could say anything the ground I was standing on rose up into the air and zipped to the open door.

Flying back into the white hallway the thing rose up to the opening “Go tell Simmons you got the wrong room” it said slamming the door shut, as it shut a ticket slid from under the door. I looked at it and snached it up running back to the front of the hallway.

“Wrong one?” the man said looking at the ticket. I had arrived a few seconds earlier handing him the ticket. He pulled a book from his desk and flipped through it “Fate of Murderer, worship Christian, Muslim, Jewish..” he mumbled for a few more minutes before going “Aha!, Celestial and Lunar Worship; see Pagan” he flipped back and pointed to a line “See? Pagan worshiping murderers sent to door number 86”

“But I’m not a Pagan” I said “I worship Princess Celestia and Princess Luna”

He paused, scratching his head and flipping through the book. “I can’t seem to find it... oh nevermind.” Reading through it finally saying “Well it says no matter what happens you’re to go to Door Number 37” pulling out another ticket from his desk and snatching the one in my hand and stamping it with a large void sign. “Off you go, nineteenth door on your right” he said as he ushered me back to the hallway.

I walked back down the hallway a little more carefully, my mind was still with me from my little encounter with the flaming beast. I arrived at door 37 in due time sliding the ticket into the slot and waiting as the door creaked open. I saw a blue sky with cotton ball clouds in the distance. I looked through the door and saw I was a good twenty feet above the ground, I considered going back for a ladder of some sort but before I could I felt a strong push at my back. With the bulk of my weight leaning over the threshold I fell forward, but not before waving my arms frantically for a handle with no avail.

I fell into the forest that was below the door landing on my back I saw a Janitor of some sort waving at me and smiling. His bushy mustache looking rather the same as his broom. He yelled at me from his perch above me. “Take this! You’re Gonna need it” he said as he lobbed a bottle of spiced rum at me. I caught it but just barely before it slammed into my skull. Looking up again I saw the man waving at me again, I waved back this time. He laughed at my response and turned around muttering. I couldn't make out the bulk of it but I did make out “Poor bastard” and “As if Lucifer and David Bowie had a kid.” I raised an eyebrow in confusion at the last statement as he shut the door behind me and with it the only link to normality.

Chapter Three: The Painful Preliminaries
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The Memories of a Pale Man

Chapter Three: The Painful Preliminaries

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I rubbed the back of my head groaning in mild pain. I looked at the bottle that the janitor man had tossed my way. On the label it read “Jimmy T. Ross’s Famous Spiced Rum” above a picture that look like the janitor that had thrown it raising a hand above his head in a thumbs up sign. I looked at the bottle a little more than baffled, then I saw the slogan printed at the little hunched over man’s feet. “Janitor recommended, Purgatory approved!” I couldn’t help myself I laughed aloud, it was a funny sight. And a reassuring one to have in my current environment.

Sitting up I looked around at the setting I found myself in, dark foliage surrounded me and sounds of wild and bloodthirsty beasts surrounded me. So it was to be banishment in a deadly forest with a bottle of questionable rum, I could handle that. I stood and looked at my chest where the bullet hole was now missing. I fell over in surprise, I unbuttoned my shirt with some urgency to see a tattoo of some sorts on the area of the wound. It consisted of two circles one inside the other, the one that had residence on the inner side of the circle was touching the left side of the circle it was in. this gave it an appearance of a waning moon. On the outside of the circle there were five wavy triangles that were placed equidistant from one another. In whole the drawing looked rather like a sun being eclipsed by a moon. As I looked somewhat astounded by this, the tattoo began to fade, I put my hand to my side where Ryan had cut me. When I drew back my hand it was bone dry. I looked back at my chest, the tattoo had all but faded leaving nothing more than a white circle where the hole had been originally.

I put my shirt back on looking at it beforehand, I would need to do something about the holes, one in the chest and back and one on the side. I decided to just try to find out where I was first. I picked up the bottle of rum and walked into the forest in a random direction. Only to emerge from the opposite side of the clearing a few minutes later. I tried a few more times with the same result.

“Fifteenth times the charm” I said as I plunged into the pitch black interior of the forest. I stumbled about the darkness that didn't allow a single ray of sunshine to penetrate the deep green canopy that was the trees that grew, defiant of mother natures will, to the top of the foul land I know found myself lost in. I continued onward feeling my way through the darkness. Suddenly my foot caught on one of the many exposed roots in the depth of the forest, I fell forward knocking my head against a rock. I woke up a few minutes later my ears ringing, as my vision came back to me I found it to be extremely blurry. I touched my face to find that I had no glasses I quickly began to scatter across the forest floor looking for my lost spectacles. Reaching out and patting an area I my hand landed on the glasses that I so heavily depended on. I took them and placed them back on the ridge of my nose. I stood and collected myself and continued through the forest in the same method I had employed before. I continued like this for what seemed like days sleeping against logs and trees or not sleeping at all, too scared of the things that took up residence in the forest. In truth the darkness and noises scared me, even to the point of avoiding things that I never even saw, simply hearing a growling and running in any direction that was opposite of the sound. Tripping over roots, plants, and debris alike not caring for the injury and pain I received as long as I wasn't eaten. More than once I thought to myself, thinking that this was my punishment, if this was so then who ever had decided to punish me was a lot more creative than what the religions gave him or her credit for to be. Finally after days in the forest I stumbled into a clearing. Immediately putting my arms up to shield my eyes from the harsh sunlight that I had forgotten about. When I could finally see again I saw that I was in a clearing that looked like a path of some sort.

Once I had made it onto the path I managed to sit down, relax, and get my bearings. I examined myself and my surroundings; it was midday, I was no longer dead (I think). As for items I possessed I had a bottle of rum, an apron (Somewhat bloodstained), a set of ragged clothing that was . And a small search of my pockets yielded a small knife in my apron pocket. I wondered how I could have this on my person, I shrugged, maybe Ryan had planted it on me before I died. I flipped it over, it was the same blade as before; jade and silver handle, pearl inlays, steel blade. I thought it better to have some form of a weapon than none at all. I wiped the blade on my apron, cleaning it slightly, before dropping it back into my apron pocket.

When I finished my observation of my assets, I looked right and then left, remembering a little rhyme from my days on earth, I cleared my throat “Ahem, eenie meenie miney moe...” I went on for a short while longer singing the songs several times unhappy with the results. I ended up choosing the path going to the left. More because of the look of the opposite route. It was heading away from the cliffs that turned the path to my right into a bottleneck, and through my pastimes in the forests I thought it best to stay away from potential tactical errors.

I headed on the opposite path, it seemed that the things in the forest were reluctant to come out in the light of day, and for that I was glad, saying a small thank you to Celestia for the protection of her sun. I kept walking for hours and sure enough the sun started to set in the distance. As it set I slowly started to increase my pace, I wanted to get out of the area and by extension the things in the area. After fifteen minutes I had gone from a quick walk to a full on sprint. I kept running for what seemed like hours until the edge of the forests approached me. I increased my speed not caring for my physical well being, I flew through the hole in the foliage to find myself in a pasture filled with rolling hills. I walked a little ways from the forest, walking over a hill I sat down and slept for the first time in days.

When I awoke it was due to the sun rising and shining into my face I sleepily opened my eyes after much frustration. Groaning I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I looked at the landscape, a beautiful orange and red sky casting rays of light in beams onto the rolling hills that no artist or photographer could rival, the bright column of light fell neatly onto the mountains, hills, and trees of the valley, the only thing that could possibly compete with the beauty of the sun would be the mountains. Ever stalwart they were a grey as gunmetal at their bottom and rose into the sky past the highest clouds. I looked at the deep unbroken green grass of the hills, then to the reds and oranges of the sunlight in the sky, and finally to the majesty of the mountains. I looked at the beauty and the only thoughts that went through my head were that of “Damn Sun” and “If I had a chainsaw...”

I sat there on the hillside trying to get some extra sleep with no avail. I sat up, defeated by the glowing orb that filled the sky with the bright rays of a beautiful morning. I sighed and got to my feet allowing myself to voice my discomfort. I looked about and and chose a direction.

“The sun sets in the east” I said softly to myself “or was it the west, maybe the sun rises in the... no, no that not it.” Eventually after a lot of confusion I simply decided to head down the hill. Stopping after a few moments to realize that the bottle was missing. I looked around me and then to the top of the hill seeing nothing. I wasted no time and ran to the top and looked around. I wondered why I was looking so desperately for this bottle of rum. I didn't really even drink, and yet here I was looking around for a bottle that was filled with a liquid that not only hurt the user but also made him physically and mentally inadequate. I suppose it was due to the little that I owned that made me look for it so feverishly. And I suppose when you have nothing but a bottle, knife and some bloody rags you value things more. I walked around a little longer deciding that it was a lost cause and turned walking down the hill looking a little more disheveled.

I walked for hours walking over hills, and through the few streams that were in the area. I stopped at one of the streams looking for a meal and finding none, I decided to look about for anything. After a few minutes I found a small metal box that was left beside the stream with a bucket and small shovel. It seemed that there was a child here at one point. But by the condition of the bucket and shovel it looked as if he or she hadn't been there in over a year. What had caught my eye was how the box looked left there this morning. I picked it up and looked at it carefully. It was decorated with a pictures of ponies in a gallop through a field of grass or thistle. After a few more moments of looking it over I found that it was music box. I turned it around looking for the winding key. I looked to the ground and found a small key, it was a trifle bit odd how it shown with an almost unnatural light. I placed the key into the small hole that looked to be the spot I twisted it heard a tune I thought would never come from a music box. Especially one that looked so old. I listened to the box and mouthed the words as the notes made their procession through the air.

“Hush Now, Quiet Now

It’s Time To Lay Your Sleepy Head

Hush Now Quiet Now

Its Time To Go To Bed

Drift, Drift, Off To Sleep

Leave Your Exciting Day Behind You

Drift, Drift, Off To Sleep

May The Joy Of Dreamland Find You.”

I finished as the music box did, the last note hanging in the air like a half forgotten dream. I looked at the box again, how it shown in the light of the sun. I clutched it in my hand and continued onward. I walked farther moving up and down hills, and taking a break every so often to catch my breath and look for something to eat. More often than not I found nothing.

I kept walking until I saw in the distance a few apple trees. I smiled seeing the sight of food, and rushed forward the

music box still in my hand. I arrived at the edge of the orchard a few moments later and began to pick some of the apples from the tree itself but being as short as I am and with no tools to speak of I decided to pick up a few of the apples that had fallen to the ground and were still edible. I sat down under the calming shade and enjoyed a decent meal. After working my way through three apples I decided to look for the owners of the orchard, seeing as no forest could have the trees planted in such a neat and straight way.

I stood and looked around seeing a barn in the distance. I decided it best to walk to it and see if it was close to the house or just one of the barns set in the fields for a place to stick the tractor and crop harvesters. I went along on my way and eventually found a small path. I adjusted my way and followed it in the most reasonable way. I sat on the side of the road and looked at the general condition of the farm. It was in good shape considering that it was rather huge. I Leaned back into the shade and took a short nap.

When I woke up with a start, I had thought I had heard... Hoof steps? This was odd in that I was related to a great many farmers and all of them hated to used livestock as a workforce. I disregarded it, I was always a bit paranoid and jumpy and therefore decided to simply move on. I stood again and stretched, I had needed a good sleep for a few days ever since I had escaped the forests. Maybe the farmer that owned the ordered would be nice enough to give me shelter in his barn. I found my way back onto the path and followed it in the direction I thought was best directed to my prefered destination.

I kept walking until I saw a quaint little house next to a barn. I figured that this must be where I was to find the farmer, and if not him at least a son or a wife. I made my way to the front door of the house and knocked. I waited for a few moments and knocked again this time with a little more force and calling for someone. Still nothing. I tried the door and found it to be open, I leaned in and called for someone. I shrugged and turned around, no reason to be shot under the illusion of being an home invader. I looked back to the yard and saw a small burst of leaves as though something had ducked down into a bush in a great hurry. I cocked an eyebrow in suspicion and strolled over to the bush in question, upon arrival I heard and saw nothing,save the sound of the wind and the bush in front of me.

“Must have been a bird or something” I thought to myself as I turned around and looked for a place to sit on that I could wait for the arrival of the farmer. Suddenly before I could find a spot that looked moderately comfortable I was tackled from behind and was forcefully pushed to my face and knocked off my glasses in the process. As I couldn’t see my attacker I was rather surprised at this occurrence and I opened my mouth to have a somewhat large furry something shoved with great force into my mouth.

“Uh, Fluttershy do you really think it’s a good idea to stick you hoof into a wild animal's mouth like that?” a girlish and simultaneously tough voice said above me as I felt several ropes being pulled around my ankles and feet. I attempted to thrash about but was hit rather forcefully when ever this was attempted.

“Oh, I just wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’ve found that when I do this the animals are much calmer. Besides I’m sure it won’t hurt me” a voice I presumed to be Fluttershy said “I bet this cutesy-wotsi little guy is just lost aren't you” the owner of the voice punctuated her sentence by rubbing the top of my head in a disarming manner. I tried to make out the things but my lack of glasses made it very hard

“What?” I thought “Had whoever just attacked me called another person... Fluttershy?” I looked at the blur leading to my mouth. It was a buttermilk color and somewhat cylindrical in shape.

“Right” the first voice said “Can you help me lift this thing it’s pretty heavy”

“Okay” the second voice that I assumed to be Fluttershy said in confirmation and removed her hoof from my mouth. I immediately began to relax my mouth and spit out the fur, after being lifted from the ground I started to speak.

“Excuse me” I said and was quickly silenced when I was dropped from a few feet. after regaining my composure I continued “Can someone get my glasses please?” I said trying to be diplomatic. Though I was scared and confused I still wanted to see my attackers whose identities I had already assumed

After some “eping” from Fluttershy and a very long conversation had in hushed tones a good ten or twelve feet away, the other voice (whom I thought to be none other than the ever athletic Rainbow Dash) said in a careful tone. “Um okay, where are they?” I nodded forward in the general direction that I thought they would be in was.

I saw a cyan blurry trot over to the area that I had nodded in and then lean down showing a rainbow of colors it

straightened back up and trotted over to me and dropped the glasses in front of me. I looked at them and then at the blurry in front of me “Thank you” I said and grabbed one of the earpieces in my mouth.

After a little more arguing behind me I felt the myself being lifted up again. I tried to struggle a little but I had found that the rope that I had been tied up with was very strong.Or that the person (or pony) that had tied me up was very adept at that particular skill.

As I flew over a large green blur (I hadn't been able to get my glasses on) I thought on what was happening, I LOVED ponies even to the point of worship and love. So why wasn't I screaming like fanboy on cocaine. I looked at the ground for a little longer thing on that. I suppose that it was because I was in shock. I thought that all of this, this world these ponies carrying me back to some area or another were nonexistent. But now I was not only dead but also in a land that I thought was nonexistent.

I stayed like that for a while until I was brought back to Fluttershy’s cabin and dragged into a basement I was placed into a chair and was tied into it limiting my escape options greatly. I asked if something could put my glasses on and Fluttershy had been kind enough to do so. I looked at her with confusion for the rest of the time that she was there. It was one thing to think that you heard anything like Fluttershy but a completely different thing to see it in front of you. I sat there mouth agape as I watched her expertly tie the ropes around my legs and waist and did nothing until she looked at me and said.

“Now I have to go now,I’m teaching a choir of birds to sing at the Summer Sun Festival. And I need to work extra hard today because the overseer for the Summer Sun Celebration is coming today” she said in a chipper tone and before I could respond she unfurled her wings and flew off to a door of some kind

I tried to turn to look at her leave but only managed to squirm in my chair. I sighed and looked at my feet. I stayed like that for a short while until I got a slight crick in my neck and leaned it back trying to sleep, I managed to doze off for what felt like a moment before I felt something small and heavy was on my chest. I groaned and opened my eyes a little to see what

was on me.

“Heya, ah’m AppleBloom!” the small beige filly said sitting on my lap. I looked at her and she looked back with an ecstatic grin on her face. “Ain’t ya gonna say something?” she asked, looking confused. My brain was still piecing together the whole “You’re in Equestria Bitch” thing.

“Gubb, Blug, What do you want?” I asked sleep having made my speech somewhat unintelligible therefor making me sound a tad drunk.

AppleBloom jumped in seeming excitement “Ya can talk! Fluttershy didn't make it up!” she said landing her hooves on my lap and causing some pain, seeing me cringe she cocked her head a little sideways “What’s tha matter Mr. uh.. what are y’all?” she said either trying or actually being innocent

The pain having cleared my system, I spoke with a little force to convey that it was not ideal to smash my legs and give me fractures and broken bones alike. “Please, get off of me.” I said, a little peeved at her actions.

“Oh, okay!” she said as she hopped off my lap and onto the ground.

I looked at her and saw that she was still waiting for an answer to her first question. “I’m a Human if you still wondering”

She stared at me for a few moments before jumping in the air and saying “Wow, A human! I thought y'all were make-believe” she continued like that fir a while asking me questions and me answering them as best I could. eventually she went back to her original objective.”Fluttershy said that she needed some help tending to an animal so she sent me down here ta feed ya.” she said in a matter-of-fact way. Grabbing a chair in her teeth and pulling it over to the table she positioned it and proceeded to hop onto it, she grabbed a baby bottle that had been resting on the surface of the worn wooden surface, the tool for feeding infants and sick animals in her mouth she advanced on me.

“No” I said “I have a fraction of dignity and I will not drink for a feeding device meant solely for infants.”

AppleBloom looked at me very confused and put the bottle back down “What did y’all say?” she asked

“I won’t eat from that” I said a little snide in my comment

She pondered the statement and but hoof to the underside of her chin “But how are ya gonna eat?” she finally asked after after a few minutes

“I will,l” I said, “just get me out of this chair and I’ll eat some apples.” I paused and smiled, or rather I attempted to smile. I was a very grim person in spirit and appearance so I never smiled, the lack of practice using this emotional tool result most likely looked like I was, quite ironically, a murderer “Kay?” I said hoping for a good answer in response.

AppleBloom looked at me a little creeped out “I don’t know Mr...” she said extending the last word “Fluttershy said don’t untie the animal that’s down here.”

I sighed. “Of course she would” I thought to myself, one vote of confidence from her. “Um...” I paused thinking. coming up short on ideas I shrugged and said “Ah, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself then?” I said sounding somewhat genuine. Though I was tied up in a basement I still kept my interests and I wished to wash away andy incorrect head cannon.

“Me?” she said

I nodded “Yes, I’d like to know somebod-... Er, pony while I’m here.”

“Oh, well, I was born here on the farm, my favorite food is apples, ect. ect.”

Over the next forty minutes she talked to me about her life, school, family, friends, and ending with cutie mark.

“And Diamond Tiara got her’s last week at her beauty pageant last week an’ ah said..”

I cut her off, hoping that I could help her get on track for the Cutie Mark Crusaders to be founded, so I needed to make sure “Call of the Cutie” played through like the show did. “Are you looking for your Cutie Mark?” I said

“Well, yeah” she said “But ah don’t know where ta start lookin’...” she continued looking disheveled.

I thought about the episode that the Cutie Mark Crusaders started “Well, your teacher?” I said trying not to call her by her name “Miss. Cheerilee”.

“Miss. Cheerilee?” AppleBloom said looking at me

“Yeah.” I said, nodding my head, “Why don’t you ask her to do a lesson on Cutie Marks?”

“Ah never thought a that.” she said.

“So, anyway...” I said, trying to be warm and friendly, “Do you think you can untie me now?” I asked.

“But Fluttershy said-” she protested, but was cut off.

“Oh, ponyfeathers to Fluttershy!” I remarked “Tell you what, I’ll...” I paused, thinking of what I could offer. I looked to the side and saw a pile of hay, my family being country folk I was taught more than once how to make toys out of miscellaneous

things, “I know, I can make you a doll, would you like that?” I offered, leaning forward in my bonds.

“I don’t know...” she said, dragging a hoof along the ground.

“Oh, haven’t you heard about the unrivalled workmanship of humans?” I said “It’s unrivaled by all creatures, and I

should know I-”

“Yeah!” she responded a little angry, “but don’t think ah haven't heard how sneaky y’all can’ be!”I was surprised at just

how versatile her moods could be, I wondered if all ponies were this bipolar

I paused and raised an eyebrow, “What?” I asked.

AppleBloom continued “Every story is always tha same. A pony captures one a’ you n’ y’all trick um with wishes an stuff.”

I paused, looking at her with a blank stare of fear plastered on my face “Uh.. Well, we aren’t ALL like that...” I said while trying to sound sincere.

“Y'all probably just run off once ah untie you.” AppleBloom said sticking out her bottom lip in frustration

“Oh, posh,” I said feeling back in my element; lying, “I have no reason to run off, so why would I? I just want to eat with my hands, and have a little bit of space.” I finished looking at her.

“Um, well...” she sat on her haunches and looked as though she was in deep thought, “Okay,” she said, “I’ll untie y’all,

but...” she said getting up and moving to the door shutting it with a buck of her hind legs “Y’all can’t go running off.” she walked over behind me and I felt the feeling of the rope growing lose and a nip of the small filly's teeth on my wrist. As she finished untying the knot I waited patiently until I heard a small “There” come from behind me.

I squirmed a little more and go my arms and legs free and stretching I turned around to look at AppleBloom seeing her looking at me with a faint sense of fear. I looked at her with a little confusion until I put two and two together, I stood at about five foot three inches and she was no taller than a foot and a half. I realized that I must be a sort of giant to her and so I promptly took a knee and patted her head “Thank you” I said sounding sincere. I took the chair I was confined to and dragged it to the table when I place it next to the worn item I then realized that i had some more head cannon to disprove. I looked up at the ceiling. It was about as tall as a normal ceiling I walked over to the door and by the look of it I could fit through it with the same amount of ease. “I suppose that puts ponies at around the same height as me, if not a little taller” As I looked at the door I felt a small tugging at my leg, I looked down to see AppleBloom with my pant leg in her teeth.

She looked up at me “Mr. Human” she said “Do you think you can make me that doll?” she said with an air of fear. I felt a twinge of regret and guilt for making her feel so scared.

I looked down at her and nodded walking over to the bales of hay in the corner and pulling a good amount out from one of the many. I returned to the table and sat in one of the chairs, it was small and close to the ground, but not uncomfortable. I placed the hay on the table and started to organize it into piles. AppleBloom hopped on a neighboring chair and looked at the hay in wonder, staring at my hands as I bound the hay into five columns. I smirked at her surprise and admiration. I glanced at her for a moment and thought to myself, I never thought I would see any of the cast of the show that made the foundation for my life, let alone capture one’s attention. I bound the columns of hay together and began working on the doll, I paused I motion placing the parts of the doll back onto the table. I looked at AppleBloom “Do you want a pony like you or a human?” I said looking at her.

She looked at me with a tired expression and I wondered if she had heard me at all, I questioned the time of day and pulled out my pocket watch, it had stopped at three forty-seven. I looked to see a ray of sunshine or moonlight but alas, there were no windows in this cellar. I looked back to AppleBloom and moved to place my hand on her foreleg when she said sounding just shy of awake “Mm... Pony” she said as she sunk back on her haunches and fell into a quiet sleep.

I shrugged and made a pony out of the columns of hay and bound the joints three times so that it wouldn’t fall apart at a moments notice. When I finished it up it looked like an smaller version of Big Mac save his yok. I had found a handful of string in a sewing chest along with a mish mash of other things, rusty farm equipment, pots, pans, and other things that had outlived their use. I had taken the string that i had found along with a few stick-pins and made a mane tail and eyes for the little straw pony. I looked through the sewing chest again and was able to find a needle that wasn't too rusty and some white thread. I took of my apron and shirt and after some trouble with threading the needle I stitched up the holes in both of the garments. After sticking myself more than once and cursing quite a few times I looked at my prepared shirt. I had done an okay job the holes were gone though it didn’t look like an experienced taylor had done it, and so it looked as it should have. I put on my shirt and apron, straightened my cravat, and brushed off my pant legs.

I looked at AppleBloom, she had fallen asleep in the chair her head lying on the table a hoof sprawled on the worn wooden surface. I smiled and took the small hay pony that I had made placing it next to her hoof. I paused thinking on what to do. I looked around the room and then finally seeing a dusty mirror in the corner I grabbed it and placed it in the unoccupied chair, I took my finger and I wrote out what I wanted to leave as an apology note;

Dear AppleBloom,

Sorry for having to leave as soon

as you fell asleep. I just need to not be tied up

in a cellar. I hope you enjoy the doll,

Sincerely,

I paused on this last last word wondering what I should write as my name. I had always disliked my name given to me. “Jacob”. I had hated it in my past life and I hated it now. I looked at the mirror and though on a new name that would fit me, suddenly a bright idea came into my mind and before it could escape I leaned forward and wrote my new name upon the dusty looking glass

Sincerely,

Alexander Greene

I leaned back and looked at the words on the dusty mirror. I nodded and went to the door. I opened it and looked around, I looked back into the room with the sleeping filly, I smiled to myself and shut the door quietly. I turned to my left and saw the stairs, well worn and made of a solid oak, I placed the heel of my dress shoe on the first stair, I leaned forward and heard no squeaking. I repeated this action all the way up the stairs until I reached the top placing my shoe on the worn oak floor. I looked to both sides the room was empty and looked to be the kitchen, I stood up straight and walked to the other room I looked through the room and I saw the door. I smiled and stepped forward, when I placed my foot into the room I heard an unceremonious snoring from the room. I glanced in the direction of the couch and was vaguely surprised by the results of my sight. Sprawled on the couch was a bear lying on his stomach and snoring as though it was going out of style. I jumped back a little more than frightened and tried not to laugh at how silly he looked as he was a tad larger than the small couch that was supporting him. I put a hand to my mouth and moved across the room quickly and quietly pulling the small bolt that acted as a doorknob to the side and exiting quickly closing the door silently behind me.

Once outside I brushed the dirt from my pants and walked a few feet forward before looking at the sky. It was the dead of night and the world seemed quiet in respect of the beautiful sky. I had always been somewhat nocturnal but I had also always lived in a city, so i was lucky to see the moon let alone the stars. And that sky had been tossed together in an explosion the one that was in front of me had be delicately engineered to be a work of art. I gazed at the sky literally awestruck by it’s beauty.

I don’t know how long I stood there out front of the farm house staring at the sky, but when I managed to tear myself from the night sky I checked my pockets for my effects. I patted each of my pockets respectfully and I was able to locate all of my items, my knife, musicbox, and clothing was accounted for. I chuckled to myself remembering how AppleBloom had described humans, the way she told me it sounded as though they were Leprechaun, I chuckled again looking at my “Treasure” or my “Pot of Gold” and thinking that if I was a kind of Leprecan or Fairy, I was the lamest one there was.

I placed my possessions into my pockets and looked about. To one side of me there was Sweet Apple Acres and all it’s glory, and to the other side of me was the Town of PonyVille. Glancing at it again I saw that it was still alight with excitement and yells and shrieks of enthusiasm from the residents. I thought for a moment on why this would be, that the ponies of PonyVille would be up and about on this day. I paused and remembered what AppleBloom had said what felt like earlier that day.

“That overseer for the Summer Sun Celebration.” I said aloud in a voice of amazement as it dawned on me.

I thought on the times that the things happend in the episode. “First; the ponies will party until the time at which the sun will rise. Second; the ponies enter the town hall to see Princess Celestia rase the sun. Third; No Princess just Nightmare Moon. Fourth; Twilight and her friends go through the forest and eventually vanquish Nightmare Moon” I said to myself quietly counting off each of the events on my fingers. Pausing for moment and slapping a hand to my face and said “God I got to get a life”

I stood there for a moment shaking my head and muttering about how filled with flaws I was. until I realized that I needed to do something. After all I couldn’t just stand here in the front of Fluttershy’s cottage waiting for Fluttershy to come back and tie me back up “for my own good”. I rubbed my back in remembering the painful the sores from sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours on end.

I thought about going into the Everfree and then remembered the time I had spent in the forest I had arrived in. I wondered momentarily on whether or not the forest I was trapped in was the Everfree forest. Deciding against the idea, I tried to think of my options. I thought long and hard, thinking to myself I absent mindedly walked to a stump of an apple tree and sat down. After much thought I came up with three options, “one; go into the Everfree and...” I paused and mentally cut the option form the list. ”One; I go back to the forest I came from, and two; go into Ponyville and test my luck, to see if I’m killed” I shrugged weighing each of the options and getting to my feet “I feel lucky” I said aloud to nobody in particular “I guess I’ll see what’s behind door number two.” I finished walking down the road in the direction of Ponyville wondering what I would do.

When I entered the quaint town of Ponyville I was somewhat surprised at the lack of cleanliness that was emulated by the condition of the streets and the loud nature of the accompanying ponies. I assumed that this was because of the celebrations that were going on at the time. I looked around the small square that I had wandered into. It was populated mostly by... Bars? I looked at the one closest to me a little back street dump, I looked at the sign above the door, a carved picture of a donkey holding a bottle with the three X’s that made one think of alcohol, I was slightly revolted by the sign but read it nonetheless. The sign proclaimed that the establishment in front of me was called “The Drunken Donkey.” As I looked rather dumbfounded at the building and it’s existence in Equestria a purple mare stumbled out of the doors and swayed out into the street. I stared at this drunken pony still trying to grip this situation.

“Berry Punch?” I said confused.

She looked at me and said in a drunken tone “Thats ma name *Hic* don...” she never finished the sentence as she fell into a puddle of mud and began to snore loudly. I stared at the mare and walked over to her and thought it would be best to remove her from the puddle. I grabbed her front hoof and wrapped an arm under her belly lifting her and walking somewhat labored over to the bar. Looking at a dry spot I placed her next to the bars front doors. I was very happy that they had been made of wood as the patrons that were possibly less drunk than the mare in front of me. I shook my head and turned around spotting the bottle that Berry Punch had dropped. I walked over to it and picked it up smelling the top of the bottle and taking a swig.

I shuddered, “Beer,” I spat it out, “I hate beer. Tastes like fermented pond scum...” I tossed the bottle onto the ground and remembered that it was a good idea to not be seen. I looked around, knowing that I would need a place to lay low. Picking a pile of crates in an alleyway I moved over to the items and looked at a the spot that I would no doubt be sleeping in. It was dry I’ll be it dirty looking at the crates and surrounding garbage I was able to find a few boards of wood and placed them on the ground and put a small amount of hay over the broken boards.

Sleep came slowly, not only for the confusion I suffered from but also the condition of my bed. But finally I managed to doze off. Living in the city for the bulk of my life, I was able to block out the sounds of the drunken ponies around me. Oddly enough I was not afflicted by a jamboree of confusing dreams and weird omens. I simply shut my eyes and what felt like a few seconds afterwards opened them again to find that it was morning. I sat up and looked around seeing my surroundings that were rather messy. I stood and looked to the Bar that stood in front of me, seeing a small door that was probably used for a back door. Hearing the gowling of my stomach I walked over to the door and tried the handle, pulling myself against the door. It was locked, and that was a little bit of a problem. I looked at the lock and decided to try and force my way in. Sizing up the door I saw that it was in bad shape and could probably be broken with a good kick. I stepped back and readied myself. Picking up a foot and slamming it against the door, I was pushed back and fell down. I looked at the door and stood up. After brushing myself off, I ran at the door and threw my weight (136 pounds) against the door. Hearing a slight crackling sound I looked to see that the wood was a little splintered around handle. I took my foot and started feverishly kicking at the door. After a few more kicks the door swung open. I ran inside, there was no doubt in my mind that the owner had heard that. I looked around and saw that the owner was nowhere to be seen. I sighed happy for this development. I looked around and saw that I was in some sort of store room. Dry goods lined the shelves and cans littered the floor. I quickly started grabbing as much food as I could, filling my pockets and arms with food. I heard a distinct sound. I turned around to see the door opening. I looked at my situation and then at the shelves. I grabbed another sack of apples and bolted out of the old door, running from the alleyway and moving through the street, sprinting like my life depended on it. All the while I was looking for another place to hide.

After a moment I ran past a spa. I stopped for a moment. I knew it was still too early for the stalls or shops to be opening, so I ran to the building and looked for a basement door. Spotting a small door, I placed my swag on the ground and pulled on the doors. They were locked as well. I looked around and saw a small key poking out from under a crate. I snached it up and placed the key in the small lock in one of the doors. After hearing the sound of a bolt being removed I tossed the key over to the area that I had grabbed it from, and pulled the doors open. I snatched up my treasure and ran into the cellar shutting the doors behind me.

First the scent of lavender and lemongrass hit me. “This must be where they keep their spices and other stuff,” I thought aloud. I started feeling around for a lantern of some kind. I had been looked for a few minutes, but finally my hand felt the smooth surface of a lantern. I grabbed it and felt for some matches, sure enough there was a box of matches next to where the lantern had been. I struck a match and put it to the wick of the small candle that took up residence in the iron lantern and it lit almost immediately. I raised it and looked about the room I was in.

Looking at the basement of the spa it looked like an apothecary's basement more than anything else. The shelves we lined with oils and shampoos all of which were foreign to me. I stared at the contents of the basement and shrugged looking back at my loot. In my haste I was able to grab a burlap sack filled with apples, an orange, several potatoes, and a second sack filled with pretzels. I scratched my head at the last thing and chuckled. I figure the patrons of “The Drunken Donkey” would have to go without bar snacks for the next few weeks.

I spent the next few hours sitting on a crate of smelling salts and eating apples and other items looking out of the small thick- window that looked out onto the market square. Luckily the window was hidden by the stairs leading up to the front door and though I could only see several wooden planks, after forcing the rusted window I could hear what the conversation was centered around.

It seemed that my actions this morning did not go unnoticed as I heard about a forced entry at a bar and the pantry being ransacked quite a lot. Also it seemed that an odd creature wearing an odd collection of cloth had been seen running through the town in the wee hours of the morning. I looked down at my apparel, a blood stained apron and dress apparel that were in good condition save the rather mediocre repair. I sat there and brewed over the statement that was rather like an insult to me. After a moment of this I looked at the walls and shelves and smiled leaning back and closing my eyes. The scents of the basement and its contents were intoxicating and I felt relaxed.

I stayed like that for a short while until I heard the sound of the large wooden doors that separated me from the outside world opened and what I thought to be two ponies from the sound of the conversation, also concerning me. I was very glad that I had long since put lantern back in its place and I soon heard the sound of a match flaring up and saw the glow of the lantern over the top of the shelves.

“Did you hear about zat? Ze creature disappeared not to far from ze market square!” the first voice said.

“Never mind sat sister” the second voice replied “We need to get more of sa lemon grass for the sauna.”

The Lotus twins? I couldn’t believe my luck! I looked around the corner Aloe Vera (pink coat, blue mane) and her sister Lotus Blossom (blue coat, pink mane) stood not but ten feet from me looking at the shelves.

“But sister? What shall ve do if zis thing comes here?” Aloe said in a pleading tone.

Her sister quickly responded putting a hoof to her sisters mouth “Why do we have to prepare for a romer?”

“But sister-” Aloe repeated

“Is nosing sister.” she said “I don’t want to hear anosa word about this, okay?”

Aloe nodded her head.

Lotus looked at the walls around her “Uhg, there is none of si lemongrass here, Aloe. Check sa back.”

Aloe nodded again, taking the lantern in her mouth and turning and trotting in my direction. I stopped scared wondering

what would happen if she found me, pictures of a dead man hanging from a rope or burning at a stake came to mind. I remembered my brush with Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash and started looking around with more urgency. I looked around frantically and simply ran in the direction of not Aloe. She arrived a few moments later looking at my food.

She put the lantern down “Sister,” she said sounding a little confused, “Can you come and look at zis?”

“What is it now siste-” she said stopping and looking at the foods then at her sister, “We don’t keep food down here...”

I looked at the dead end that was in front of me, the shelf was to my left and the stone wall of the basement to my right.

I stared at the shelving with some fear in my eyes. I turned and pressed my back against the wall hoping that in some miraculous occurrence I could be overlooked and continue being not dead... Again. Aloe took the lantern in her mouth and turned to both sides showing light on the boxes and showing that there was nothing but lemongrass and turning her head to the other side looking down the small hallway that was formed by the shelving units she saw me. The beam of light stopped on me I stared at the ponies they started back.

We stared at one another for what seemed like hours. I didn’t move, more because they were blocking my exit than out

of surprise. They stared back at me in fearful wonder. I opened my mouth and then closed it trying to think of something to say first. I decided after some thought that the best thing to do would be to not say anything, so I started to scoot over to the wall and along the hall to the burlap sacks of food that I had stolen moving slowly they followed me with the lantern and their eyes I came close to my food and grabbed it slowly and moving slowly to the door taking one slow step at a time the heels of my shoes making a small but resounding “click” against the cobblestone floor. Sounding more like the “tat, tat, tat” of a machine gun than the gentile footsteps of a man avoiding death and walking across the floor. Walking up the stairs backwards I let out a sigh of relief when I made it back to the sunlit world. Stepping over the final step into the grounds beyond I felt the sun on my back and the sound of chatter all around me. It continued for a moment or two until a few ponies noticed me and stopped talking.

I was now back at square one it seemed that a good many ponies were doing their midday shopping around this time. I dropped the sacks in my hands staring at them. My brain was running through ideas and situations all of them ending with me dead or in a cage. All save one where I was tied up in a burlap sack and thrown in a river.

Coming up with nothing I opened my mouth,“Ochi chyornye, ochi zhguchie.” I said starting to sing the first few

lines to the song “Dark Eyes” a wonderful number I had loved in my youth even to the point of learning the lyrics in Russian. I continued singing at a louder volume and starting again.

“Ochi chyornye, ochi zhguchie

Ochi strastnye i prekrasnaya Kak lyublyu ya vas, kak boyus' ya vas Znat' uvidel vas ya ne v dobryi chas”

The ponies were moving, looking scared and confused. A few of them taking feverish steps backward, all of them staring at me and looking over me with a stifling look that one would give to a mad man on the street yelling about how the world was reaching its inevitable end several million years early. I sang on unfazed by their looks.

“Ochi chyornye, ochi plamenny I manyat oni v strany dal'nye Gde tsarit lyubov', gde tsarit pokoi Gde stradan'ya nyet, gde vrazhdy zapryet”

Most of the fillies were hiding behind their mothers or fathers now, and a few families had turned tail and ran in fear. Fear of what I could not know. I heard the sounds of the Lotus Twins coming to the foot of the stairs. As I sang I leaned down and grabbed an apple and started edging myself in the direction of the least populated road. I continued singing as I went in order to keep the ponies distracted.

“Ochi chyornye, ochi zhguchie Ochi strastnye i prekrasnye Kak lyublyu ya vas, kak boyus' ya vas Znat' uvidel vas ya ne v dobryi chas”

I slowly made my way across the square watching as eyes of everypony remained locked on me. I made wide gestures and theatrical moves in order to speed along my moving. Many of the foals were crying and their mothers tried to calm them or simply leave the premise. I continued moving and singing seeing just how long I could hold up the charade.

“Ne vstrechal by vas, ne stradal by tak Ya by prozhil zhizn' ulybayuchis' Vy zgubili menya ochi chyornye Unesli navek moyo schast'ye”

I now stood in front of the street that I planned to run away with. Stopping and standing still, holding the apple in my hand continuing to make theatrical gestures. I looked about the square as I sang. Most of the stall owners were crouching in their stalls a look to my side would show that Aloe and Lotus were enthralled by the song. Though I wasn't shabby when it came to singing I wasn't the best when it came down to a competition. I decided to finish the song for the few in the “Audience” that enjoyed the song.

“Ochi chyornye, ochi zhguchie Ochi strastnye i prekrasnye Kak lyublyu ya vas, kak boyus' ya vas Znat' uvidel vas ya ne v dobryi cha-”

I drew out the final note of the song taking a step back and turning around and running as fast as I could manage.

I ran as fast as I could stumbling once or twice along the way I ran as though the black-cloaked keeper of death was at my heels. I ran with such vigor and haste I didn't take into account where I may have been heading. This factor became painfully apparent as I looked behind me to see if anypony was chasing me. As I looked I slammed into a tree and in a daze I looked around and saw a door. To confused and desperate to think I gripped the door in one of my hands and yanked the door with all of my might. Unfortunately in my haste I neglected to see the small golden “Push” sign posted on the door and I was pulled forward slamming my weight against the door and causing me to fall and slam my nose against the ground. Sitting up I rubbed my sore nose remarking on the pain.

“Six bees in a barrel, that hurt like nobody’s business...” I said holding my nose and looking at my palm to see if there was a nosebleed. There wasn't and I was thankful for that.

“Hello welcome to the Ponyville Library I’m Twi-” a voice said behind me, being cut off quickly as it realised whom it was greeting. “F-Fl-Fluttershy, please come here...” the voice said in a very quiet and scared tone.

“Someone stab my eyes out with a wooden spoon...” I said to myself quietly, turning and looking at the ponies that were addressing me. When I turned around I saw none other than Twilight Sparkle followed shortly by Fluttershy.

“Yes, Twilight?” she said in her quiet voice. Twilight only pointed a slightly shaking hoof at me. Fluttershy turned to me and looked confused, but regained her usual kind expression. “Oh, hello.” she said landing and taking a step forward. “I’ve been looking for you. You’ve been making quite a ruckus.”

My brain stopped working for a moment and the only thing that would come to mind was my times in my many foreign language classes. I pointed a finger at her and stepped back a bit saying in a feverish tone “Nein, Sie sind nicht einen Scherz mit mir wieder einen Käfig, das ist nicht gut, nicht gut.”

Fluttershy stared at me confused I calmed myself and spoke again. “I’m not letting you take me and stick me in another cage.” I said slowly, trying to make my words heard.

Fluttershy looked at me again and said in a somewhat condescending tone “We’re not going to stick you in a cage, silly.” she said with her adorable smile, “We just want to take you home to the Everfree Forest, where you belo-”

“But I don’t belong there.” I interrupted.

“Then where do you belong?” Fluttershy asked, likely wondering why a mysterious creature they had never seen before is claiming to live somewhere else than an equally mysterious habitat..

“Well, uh, I don’t really know where I belong.” I responded rubbing the back of my head “Oh I belong.. In Ponyville, that’s it... Ponyville, Canterlot, you know... Uh... Civilization.” I said after a moment of thought.

Fluttershy looked at me “Well I don’t know how you would-”

“Come on.” I said getting on my knees, bringing me to about head level with Fluttershy. Sounding a little crazed I tried to list something that would make me useful, “I can be really useful. I can fix stuff and make things.”

Fluttershy unfurled her wing and flapped down to land on the floor, proceeding to trot over to me. “Okay,” she said, “you can stay... but only on a few conditions.”

I stared at her in a begging position my hands clasped above my head until I registered what she had said. I looked at her and nodded “Thank you.” I said, tears coming to my eyes at the prospect of not having to be dragged back to the forests.

“You can stay in Ponyville... But you need to have somepony watch you. If you don’t mind, I mean...” she looked at me in more detail. “You’ve scared some of the townsponies, and stole. It’s for the best...” She said, fighting the urge to hide behind her long pink mane. “If you want to live in towns, you need to be good. Not that you’re bad! But, you... Did bad things...” She finished, fully hiding behind her hair. But she did poke her head out briefly. “I need to go now... Can you stay with Twilight until I get back? I’m not ordering you or anything...” She finished as shylu as ever, and made her way out of the library.

I stared at the door as it closed a bewildered look on my face. I turned to look at Twilight. She was staring at me in a sort of scared bewilderment. I looked at her, I had nothing to say to her so we just began several consecutive staring contests. I looked to the side and saw a single book lying on the desk, bored I reached for it. Almost immediately the book was enveloped in a lavender glow and moved away from my hand. I looked at Twilight who was sitting in a more relaxed position seeing that I was not of great danger. I turned back to the book and reached for it again once again the book moved on its own accord away from me. I looked back to Twilight, she now had a smug grin on her face and only chuckled when I frowned at her. I looked back to the book, now at the end of the desk and pounced. Twilight, probably expecting this, levitated the book onto the floor and scooted it away. As I picked myself up off the floor where I had fallen in my attempt to grab the book I heard the faint sound of laughter but quieted as though muffled by a hoof. I looked at the book in anger. I needed to get this book more out of pride than interest at this point. I ran towards it only for it zip to the side. I was never very light on my feet and in an attempt to turn on a dime I stumbled and slammed into a wall. This carried on for a while before I managed to grip the book with my hands. Suddenly the book flew upwards taking me with it. While floating in the air, the book started to shake back and forth as though trying to shake me off. One of my hands slipped after a few moments of this and my free arm waved about frantically trying to get a hold of something.

Suddenly the lavender glow faded and I fell a good three feet, landing on my back I was a little dazed from the fall. Coming back to reality, in a sense, I started to hear a very loud sound. Laughter. Looking around I saw Twilight Sparkle sitting on her haunches and laughing a wide grin across her face. I frowned at her and looked at the book, it was called “Mathematics and Algebra’s Application to Today’s Agricultural Cultivation”. I looked at the book a little confused. I sighed and righted myself, placing the book back onto the desk. I looked around the room and saw that it was a little dirtied from the activities that had occurred. Books lay on the ground and sheets of blank paper were spread about the floor. I leaned back against the desk and looked at the door, waiting for Fluttershy to return, ignoring the laughing Twilight in front of me.