Derp Souls

by Akumokagetsu

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Derpy Hooves, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 2101

"Whatever you do, don't die." Easier said than done. This is the terrifying tale of Derpy, desperately clinging to her sanity. And muffins.

Dark Souls... with ponies!

Derpy just doesn't know what went wrong.
Awakening with a crippled memory in a crumbling asylum, along with hordes of the undead and monstrosities best left unmentioned, Derpy must struggle to regain her Equinity before she is consumed.

In more ways than one.

Published 2013-10-08 23:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-30 16:55:31 UTC

The Accursed Derp Sign

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In the Age of Ancients the world was unformed, shrouded by fog. A land of gray crags, Archtrees and Everlasting Dragons. But then… there was Fire. And with fire came disparity. Heat and cold, life and death, and of course, light and dark. Then from the dark, THEY came, and found the Souls of Lords within the flame. Sombra, the First of the Dead, The Draconequus of Izalith and his Children of Chaos, Celestia, the Goddess of Sunlight, and her faithful knights. And the Furtive Pygmy, so easily forgotten.

With the strength of Lords, they challenged the Dragons. Celestia’s mighty bolts peeled apart their stone scales. The Children weaved great firestorms. Sombra unleashed a miasma of death and disease. And Spike the Scaleless betrayed his own… and the Dragons were no more.

Thus began the Age of Fire. But soon the flames will fade and only Dark will remain. Even now there are only embers, and the equine see not light, but only endless nights. And amongst the living are seen carriers of the accursed Darksign.

Yes, indeed. The Darksign brands the Undead. And in this land, the Undead are corralled and led to the north, where they are locked away, to await the end of the world... This is your fate.

Only in the ancient legends it is stated, that one day an undead shall be chosen to leave the undead asylum, in pilgrimage, to the land of ancient lords...

Equestria.

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Lost.

Lost in the darkness.

All in all, Derpy could definitely settle on at least one thing; she was absolutely miserable.

The grey pegasus huddled bitterly against the cold stone corner, keeping her wings closed in tightly at her sides to help keep in heat. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t normal; why was it so unbearably cold?

The air inside the stuffy cell seemed warm enough – almost uncomfortably so, to the point where breathing was a little hard. Derpy could barely even make out the twisted emblem that had burned itself onto her flank in place of her Cutie Mark in the dingy light, cast from the miniscule window in the ceiling above. The rusty metal bars of the door seemed to shine ruddily in what little light she had, like they were mocking her.

Just a simple, small little circle. Right there on her side.

Darksign.

It was difficult to remember exactly how it got there in the first place, and the more she thought about it, the more her head hurt. Derpy slowly rocked back and forth, clutching unhappily at her own hooves to stave off the shivering. Partially to stave off the growing sense of… something else. Of shadows, of whispers behind her ears…

It was so difficult to… remember.

Derpy shook her head, clearing her eyes of her blonde bangs. Unfortunately, it did not clear her head as well. Every time she began to lose herself in thought, every time she tried to delve into her memory… it hurt a little, in such a strange way. She almost felt as if she were losing bits and pieces, but had become too inattentive to notice when-

WHAM!

Derpy let out a gasp of surprise as she tried to leap backwards into the corner even further, but her retreat was blocked by frigid stone. The disheveled body of the unknown stallion that had been unceremoniously dumped from the tiny window above lay still on the filthy floor before her.

Glancing upward in confusion, the pegasus managed to catch a short glimpse of a peculiar pony, masked by an iron muzzleguard. The glint caught in the dim sunlight above, and their eyes met momentarily.

Before Derpy could respond, the pony vanished.

Staring up granted no sight of the pony again, and she prodded the unfortunate stallion in dirty rags on the floor in front of her.

He didn’t move.

Or breathe.

Upon closer inspection, he’d been dead for quite a while.

In slight revulsion, Derpy resumed what she’d been doing for who knows how long; pacing back and forth, slowly shuffling her hooves.

This was an interesting development.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried flying up to the window. But even if the cell hadn’t been so cramped, the strange quality of the air must have caused it to become heavier. At least, that was Derpy’s theory. Either way, she couldn’t fly.

Maybe if she used the corpse as a makeshift ladder…?

Shuddering slightly in disgust at the thought, Derpy sighed and reclaimed her spot in the corner. Maybe if she stayed here long enough, the armored pony would come back. Or maybe she’d eventually have enough bodies to just stack atop each other and climb to the top.

Derpy was certain whether she shuddered from the revulsion again, or whether or not it was getting colder.

Back to pacing, and it felt like it had been such a short amount of time; but she had to do something.

She nosed back over at the dead stallion, cringing when she rolled him over. Perhaps he had something on his body that could help…?

And, sure enough, tucked neatly into the stallion’s hoof was a small and rusted key.

Derpy grinned, snagging the key from his hoof with a small nod to him, even though he would never respond.

A bit nonsensical, perhaps. But some measure of respect to the dead should be presented.

She almost completely missed the shattered blade caught beneath the plain tan stallion. Picking up the thing in her other hoof revealed that it was little more than just a hilt; however, it was just sharp enough to be useful. Derpy slipped the hilt into a small strap on her side…

Just in time to stare at in in confusion, wondering where she got it. A couple of memories passed quietly by, and the sword sheathe at her side looked familiar.

But where did she get it?

And, more importantly, when?

With a heavy shrug, Derpy took a deep breath and shook herself from her reverie.

And so, with a hint of determination sparking in her golden eyes, Derpy carefully unlocked the door to her cell and began the longest, most arduous, scariest, darkest, most painful and downright brutal journey of her life.

The pilgrimage of the undead.

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Author's Note

The journey begins.

The First Derps

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Derpy stared timidly down the dark stone corridor, the reddish bricks barely visible in the dim torchlight. The torch scones along the walls were mostly scattered or broken, but from what little light she had, Derpy could still see the end of the hall.

And there were other figures.

Even though she felt oddly weak, Derpy shook off her aches and perked up. With a bit more enthusiasm now that she had been released from her cell, Derpy trotted forward with her head held high.

“Hey!” she shouted to the figure of a sagging thin stallion, leaning with his face toward a wall. “Hey, over here!”

The stallion did not reply, and Derpy furrowed her brows in confusion. Slowing her pace a little and approaching him, she tapped the dirty pony on the shoulder.

“Hey, buddy. Are you okay th-!”

Derpy’s voice caught in her throat as the pony turned to her, his gaunt face and hollow, sunken eyes boring into her.

“Whoa!” she jerked back instinctively. “You don’t look so good…”

The stallion only gave a low moan, shuffling toward her. The closer that he got, the more that Derpy noticed that he gave off a pungent, sickly smell; a rotting stench, one that stung her nose and made her feel like retching. From the matted, thin mane and the almost diseased pallor, Derpy could hardly tell if it was showing expression at first – at least, until she saw that its mouth was hanging open loosely, low moans leaking out of it. The stallion continuously came closer, and closer, backing her further against the wall…!

“Back – get back!” Derpy pushed him in panic, the zombified pony stumbling with the push. No sooner had she skipped backward away from him than the stallion groaned hungrily and lurched forward, sinking his filthy teeth deep into her shoulder.

Derpy shrieked in pain and terror, rearing up and pawing the thing as hard as she could. She heard the sound of cracking jaw as she hit him, and skittered back as she reached for the splintered sword hilt. The stallion lunged with a gaping mouth toward her again, and Derpy gripped the hilt in her hoof. With a hard stab forward, Derpy plunged the jagged blade directly into the undead stallion’s neck, causing it to fall still.

Derpy’s breathing was labored and heavy for a few moments, and she shook mightily as the ragged dead pony sagged against her.

She had killed it.

She killed him.

It left her feeling a little disgusted in herself, and oddly familiar. However, she had little choice; it was either put the poor thing out of its misery, or let it eat her al-

The stallion jerked suddenly, biting her hard in the face.

Derpy screamed, jamming the sword into the side monster’s head again, and again, and again. It fell limp once more, but this time she didn’t let up; Derpy stabbed the unnatural creature over and over. She stabbed until her muscles burned, and her limbs felt weak from the constant effort of ensuring that the thing would never rise again. Tears streamed down her face from the shock and pain, and she hardly even noticed when two more similar ruddy, thin stallions slowly began approaching her from the end of the hall.

“No…” she whispered pitifully, inching backwards, eyes wide with fear as they dragged themselves toward her. The sound of their hungry moaning and dry, cracked hooves scraping across the floor filled her with dread, and she flattened her ears against her head.

“No, no, no!” Derpy shook her head viciously, dropping the bloodied blade. “I can’t do this – I can’t do this, leave me alone! Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alo-!”

She didn’t even get the chance to finish, and the last thing she saw was a flurry of teeth.

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Derpy awoke with a jolt, careening backwards.

Her breathing heavy, Derpy’s eyes flew around the little cell in shock.

From the dim light emanating in the hall, she could easily see that she wasn’t far from where she was a few minutes ago; stuffed unceremoniously beneath a broken iron-barred door, along with…

Derpy struggled to escape, the stench of rotting bodies overwhelming her.

One of the undead stallions must have dumped her here with some of the other bodies. She lay stock still for a bare moment, struggling to take in her surroundings without panicking. Everything hurt, but nothing more so than her head. The bite wounds didn’t seem too deep, but when she touched them, Derpy pulled blood away with her hoof.

And then, one of the bodies began to move.

Derpy suddenly found it much more difficult to refrain from panicking.

Jittering up from the ground, Derpy darted into the hall and plowed directly into the same ruddy colored undead stallion from before, not stopping to ease the burning pain from the bite marks. She skidded past another gawking stallion, its foul smell assaulting her nostrils as she shoved past him, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Legs weak, Derpy forced herself to scramble up a flight of stone stairs, biting back a scream as she ran. However, the undead stallions did not bother to follow her this time, merely returning to staring longingly at the walls around them.

Out of breath, Derpy scooted in the only direction that she could; forward. Through a small arch and into another little dark room led her to a small puddle, and splashing filled the air as she ran. Derpy barely had enough light to see a small iron ladder attached to the circular walls in the dark, but still managed to snag it and begin slowly dragging herself to the top.

“Psst!”

Derpy jolted in surprise, craning her neck to peer up at the shadowy figure above her.

“Psst, miss! Up here!”

Just as had she glanced at the figure that it vanished. Curiously, Derpy cautiously began dragging herself up the ladder. The clinking of her hooves against rusted iron filled the air as she pulled herself upward, one rung at a time.

By the time that she finally reached the top, however, the figure was long gone.

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