Warped Reality: Equestria
Prologue: Intro to My Life: 2015
I always knew that there was something else out there. From the minute I walked upon the gods’ green Earth, I believed with all my soul that we were not alone in the Universe. After I had read multiple works of fiction, I drew up a theory on how the Universe has so many endless possibilities, and I then went on to build up the already existing theories of relativity. Today was a fairly normal day, and when I was awoken by my wailing alarm clock from a fitful sleep, I felt it deep within my bones that something would happen. Rubbing the crust out of my eyes, I rolled out of bed with a groan, leaving the warm digital camouflage blankets behind on the comfortable, yet rock hard, brown sheeted bed.
I bent down to pick up my discarded clothes and threw them into the black net laundry basket, and moved on to selecting what I’d wear to school for friday. Pushing aside the sliding doors to my closet on the left of my double bed, I rifled through the closet’s contents and picked out a sage green button-up shirt. I tossed that on the bed, and walked around to the dresser on the other side, and began searching the drawers for a suitable pair of jeans. I picked up a pair of black Levi’s, and threw them on over my boxer shorts. I went back to my bed and slipped into my shirt, and then went on to put on my charcoal grey sneaker shoes with black soles.
Hearing the pitter-patter of heavy rain, I look outside at the ensuing storm, only to have my vision limited greatly by the fog and extreme downpour. Thinking back to the weather forecast and how they stated that it was to be sunny all week, I shake my head at how I could have forgotten about how I always believed that they were almost always wrong about the weather over a desert. I walked over to my door and put on the heavy winter jacket for the chill, followed by an arctic blue Alaskan windbreaker and finally a thick leather duster, not unlike the one worn by a certain wizard from the Dresden Files book series. I carefully walked down the stairs as to avoid making too much noise, and slipped on the black galoshes waiting for me at the door. Taking one more look at the weather, I grabbed my oilskin fedora from the hat rack hanging on the wall.
As extra insurance from the unusual weather, I snagged my custom umbrella with the Sons of Medusa WH:40K chapter logo imposed on the waterproof vinyl canvas. I wrapped my hand around the handle with the carved Rainbow Bolt cutie mark of none other than Rainbow Dash, my favorite pony of MLP: FiM. I unlatched the umbrella’s fingers and placed my thumb on the release button on the grip, and steeled myself for the very, very wet cold of the early spring. I opened the door long enough for me to leave the house, and I quickly opened the umbrella. The rain was descending in a vicious torrent as I worked my way from the condominium complex to the high school next door in the wee hours of the morning.
Turning right along the sidewalk and taking a shortcut through the grass beneath the massive ponderosa pines, I made way for Pinnacle Canyon Academy, kicking up small splashes of dew from the lawn. I jumped down from the wooden barrier holding back the soil and moved in a long-legged lope towards my school. I passed between the few vehicles in the side lot that came up to my stomach, seeing as how I stood at a good height of 6’3”, nearly a full foot taller than I had been the previous year. As I neared the maintenance door to the school, I pulled out the master key I had been given by the principal for security reasons, and moved to open the door. The door was locked as it should be, and I used the key to gain access to the building, locking the door behind me.
I pulled the umbrella closed and opened it again, only to repeat the motions quickly to shake the water from the canvas, and I moved into the school to get things ready for the day. Whilst walking through the hallways, I began to ponder on things a seventeen year old boy would think of, such as girls, Halo, CoD, and Dead Space. When I reached the newly established armory that had been installed by the state of Utah when a series of schools had been attacked. I unlocked the steel door with my security card and master key, as well as my IDC, and walked in to retrieve my gear. I removed my many coats and put a ballistic vest over my undershirt and a shoulder holster on top of my button-up shirt.
In that holster, I put two spare clips for my SIG P226 Blackwater, and I then went to field strip and clean the already spotless gun, having the task done in under five minutes. After making sure the gun functioned like it should, I slipped it into my holster and put my coats back on. I went over to the tasklist, and searched for today’s assignments; I had guard duty for the elementary students. I sipped at the coffee I had put on while cleaning my SIG and took a bite of the leftover donuts from last night’s meeting. Feeling content to continue, I went on patrol around the campus’ interior, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
As soon as I had returned from not seeing anything, I saw a shadow flash by out of the corner of my eye. My hand reflexively whipped out the modified .45 calibre sidearm, and the sights snapped to the direction of the movement. Dropping into a combat stance, I advanced stealthily towards the staircase. I went up them and cleared the second floor of the school, and gave up the search when I figured the perpetrator had already escaped. Sighing at my slowness, I retreated back downstairs to await the arrival of the rest of the students.
The rest of the day had gone by quickly, and my fellow guards had not arrived until around ten A.M., and even then, they were lazy for the rest of the half-day that is a normal friday for PCA. When I had gone home, It was lunchtime and it was still raining by the time it was supper. When I went to bed after performing a check on my ACR 6.8, I had undressed from today’s outfit into my pajamas, and then proceeded to brush my teeth; a shower could wait until tomorrow morning. I then proceeded to attempt to sleep through the storm currently rampaging over my head. This storm was an unusual one, the lightning was a curious cyan color, the bolts never touching the ground.
With the thunder rumbling every five seconds, I fought against my insomnia, random thoughts and curiously giddy excitement to sleep. I tossed and turn, and flailed around in my sheets to grasp the gentle hand of slumber, but simply was unable to do so. “Good gods, why won’t you shut the Hell up, you stupid brain?!” I grumbled, only to be replied by a massive flash of the strange lightning. I lay there for what seems like an eternity, and I look at the clock to my left: 23:17.
“Only four minutes!?! What the literal fuck?!” I growl in exasperation, tossing my hands into the air, frustrated at the circumstances. Damn it, why can't I sleep? I think in anger. I then remember an exercise my mom taught me to do when I can’t sleep, and I begin to slowly inhale, and exhale.
Rinse and repeat, I do this while counting back from thirty, my eyes shut in relaxation. When I reach thirteen, thunder rumbles ominously, the storm sounding much stronger than before, and the wind is now screaming past my window. I ignore this, and continue my counting, three...two...one... Suddenly, all is quiet except for the almost imperceptible static of absolute silence,and I open my eyes. What I see both astounds and frightens me, as it is absolutely black.
I look at my hands, and I can see them in perfect clarity, as well as the rest of my body. Now scared, I close my eyes again, click my shoes(what?) together three times and say, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” I open them, and I see a flash of a bright, white light and I hear the storm once more. However, I’m not in my bed. Instead of my warm, cozy, comfy, warm bed, I’m in the dense, wet underbrush of a truly massive forest.
“Hubbawha?” I look around in utter confusion, and I notice a steady drip on my fairly recently shaved head, and look up. It’s raining here, but the lightning is a vibrant green-gold instead of the normal white or the cyan from earlier. The rainwater getting in my eyes, I rub wipe my eyes on my wrist and look around at the mighty oaks and great maples of the forest. Their shape is very different from what I’m used to, and their lines are smoother, more... simple... than what they should be. The leaves are mostly the same, but they are more rounded and flatter than back home.
I shake my head and climb to my feet, wiping the dirt and grime from my shirt and jeans. Wait... why am I dressed in my clothes from earlier?! But more importantly, how the hell did I get in this damn forest?! I look at myself in a puddle, my eyes red, “Okay, this is all a dream! Yeah, that’s right, that’s exactly what it is! It’s just a dream! Any second now, and I’m going to wake up, it’ll be morning, and I’ll still be in my bed!” I try rationalizing the situation, now very panicked. I pace around the clearing I have found myself in, and try all sorts of things to wake myself up.
I slap myself across the face, pinch my arm, and even run circles in place saying a bunch of gibberish while hamboning, and none of it works. Finally, I just sit in the wet shrubbery at the base of a particularly large oak tree, next to where I had found myself, and lean my head against the rough, yet smooth bark. I calm myself and focus on the feeling of my body in the bed, covered by pillows and blankets. Soon enough, I feel a fuzzy warm across my left leg, accompanied by a soft, snuffling noise amongst the din of the raging storm, and I open my eyes. Searching the darkness around me, I find the source of the warmth, and I find it.
It’s a small badger,the size of a terrier dog, and it’s likely looking for refuge from the freezing rain and the cold of the night. Upon seeing the black furred critter, I instinctively freeze, and slow my breathing to wait for it to move along without noticing me. The badger begins to sniff around the underbrush and my leg, stops, and looks along my body to my face. The young badger’s amber eyes lock onto my scarlet ones, and it bares its yellowed teeth and growls, expecting me to be scared and move. Not impressed, my hand shoots out and grabs the beast by the scruff of its neck.
The badger, now angry and afraid, snarls furiously and squirms in my grasp. “Sorry bud, not good enough,” I shrug my shoulders and fling the badger away. I watch as it sails through the air, and impacts the tree across the clearing, knocking it unconscious. I wince, and I sit in the mud, shaking from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I reach up and grab the branch above my right shoulder and pull myself up, and I begin to feel around the damp tree for the moss that grows on the north side of them.
My hand finds the wet green gold, and I start strolling of in that direction, hiking through the wet ferns and flowers. After a few minutes of walking through the dense flora, lightning flashes briefly, lighting up something I thought I wouldn’t see in a forest as dense as this: a dirt footpath, directly at my feet stretches of to either side. Sighing in relief, I look along the trail to decide which way I should go. To the right, there is a rickety old bridge, and across from that is a heavily deteriorated stone keep. Figuring that if there was a castle like this connected to a clear road, then there must be a town at the other end of the path.
My mind made up, I start walking along the trail, away from the castle and its bridge to wherever the road takes me. Along the way, the rain begins to lighten up, and I hear a most wretched sound very similar to nails on a chalkboard crossed with the sound of tearing metal and the screech of wood ripping apart. It sounded off to my left, and as soon as the noise ended, the rain resumed its torrent. As I scanned the trees for the source of the terrible racket, I spied some movement ahead of me on the path, drawing my eyes to the motion. What I saw was a raging river, with no way across but through the river itself.
Scanning the length of the massive body of water, I saw a violet sea serpent with an orange moustache? My eyebrows quirk up at the notion of a gargantuan reptile with facial hair, especially in that style. Strangely enough, he (assuming that it is indeed a he) was the source of the roiling rapids, and he was singing as well! Whatever strange, delusional world I have found myself in, it sure is amusing! Suppressing raucous laughter at the sheer sight of it, I step forward into the river to try and wade through the rapids to the nearest stone, which was only a few feet away.
Stepping into the water, I found it surprisingly warm, and the slope of the ground was not at all steep, but rather smooth. Shrugging, I move further into the waters, and by the time I am at the center, the white caps rise only to mid-thigh. Easily reaching the other side, I resume my march along the path. I notice more movement to my right, and I catch a glimpse of a scorpion’s tail in the greenish flash of light. The stinger is easily as long as my forearm without the wicked curve, and I automatically enter combat mode.
Dropping into a firm stance, I strafe ahead, always keeping a cautious eye on my surroundings. I quickly, but silently creep into the treeline, out of immediate view of whatever creature is stalking me, and I continue my trek along the path. Soon, I come along a rather dense, and dark part of the forest, and I must weave through the trees to stay with the trail. I hear the horrid sound from before, and I look at the main path, seeing a group of oddly shaped wood fragments. As I stare in curious wonder at them, I step out to pick one up, and it darts away, and no matter what anyone tells you, I did not scream like a little girl and run into a tree.
Stepping away from the tree that those liars say I ran into after I supposedly freaked out, I rub my forehead to get rid of the pain, and look back at the wooden bits and giblets. They begin to rattle and fly together, each impact creating that awful noise, and they quickly form the shape of a wolf. The lightning overhead flashes, casting some ominous shadows on the trees and the ‘timber’ wolf, making the trees seem alive and the wolf even more frightening. Green flames alight in the monstrous form’s eye sockets, and they immediately find my form among the trees. Thunder booms again, the wolf growls, and it leaps through the wet thicket at my throat.
With a startled yelp, I flinch backwards and collapse to the muddy earth, rolling to my left in an attempt to avoid the wooden abomination. The timberwolf sails over my head and lands on the other side of the clearing of maddening trees, their monstrous faces grinning and snarling for blood, preferably mine as it would seem. The wolf digs its paws into the soft mud of the circle, and it prepares another leap for my throat. With a bone-rattling growl, the construct pounces once more, but I’m ready this time. With what little training I had in the martial arts, I roundhouse with my left leg, my foot lashes out and strikes the beast on the side of its skull, sending wood chips and broken twigs flying every which way.
The timberwolf’s course is altered by my attack, and it goes tumbling away to the right. With my assailant distracted by the rock in its cranium, I make an attempt to flee, only to fall to the mud as soon as I place weight on my left foot. I grunt in the fiery pain that had shot up my leg, barely diluted by the adrenaline in my blood. Much to my disappointment, the wolf had risen to its wooden paws, and watched me hit the squishy ground. With a sound that I could’ve sworn was a chuckle, the wolf appears to grin, its face practically glowing with gleeful malice, and charges at my leg.
My mind still muddled by the pain and my vision blurred and filled with stars, I barely have time enough to shift my position. However, instead of the wolf ripping at my foot, lower leg, its teeth sink into my knee, the jagged maw gouging at my flesh, the savage shaking of the wolf’s head furthering the damage, and ravaging the now exposed bone and muscles. I scream in pain, and my vision begins to fade, stars dancing before my eyes. I catch a powerful whiff of the foul things rancid breath, and think, gods, you need a Tic-Tac. My blood mixes with the mud, and I reach out and cling on to that last thread of consciousness, blinking away my tears.
My sight begins to return, and when I can see enough of the world, my hands are wrapped around the jaws of the monster, tearing both halves of the thing’s head. I apply more and more pressure, the joints of the beast’s mandibles cracking and splintering, until I can escape. Despite this, I continue my death grip, my hands being lacerated by the jagged splinters and teeth within the wolf’s mouth. Soon enough, the timberwolf’s skull begins to splinter heavily in the more... anatomically messy areas, and the flaming viridian eyes flicker in fear. I begin to hear someone screaming, and I soon realize that that someone is me.
With one last mighty pull, the skull bursts apart, sending splinters and runny sap everywhere. The cracking boom of the shattering skull echoes throughout the forest, the evil facades of the trees now gone. Thunder booms overhead as I sit in the cold mud, allowing the frigid rain to wash off the sap, mud and blood that I am coated with from head to toe. I sit there panting in shock and awe, exhausted while the adrenaline wears off, leaving me a quivering mass of human. The stench of rotted flesh and the wolf’s awful breath permeates the air, and the construct’s body deteriorates into sawdust.
I tilt back my head as I gasp for breath, and I let the rain strike my face while I let the cool of the air calm my nerves as I slowly drift into slumber’s grasp. Thunder booms rather loudly overhead, and it jolts me back to reality, back to the forest, and I slowly climb to my feet, this time cautious of my devastated leg. I shake my head to clear my befuddled mind, and I return to my march onwards. There was now only one way out of the clearing, as there were now trees where I had entered. I then tiredly limp out of that particular location, and onward to where the road takes me.
I shamble along at a slightly slower pace as when I had begun, but my head is now much more clear. Soon, I begin to wonder once more where the hell I am, and how things like that timberwolf exist, and I almost immediately rack it up to magic. Seeming legitimate, I simply shrug off that particular worry, and focus on getting out of this gods-forsaken forest. I am finally out of the darker area, and back to the regular density of the forest. I reach a part of the wood that is a fair amount thinner than the rest of the forest, an I feel a slight pressure on my back, like someone, or something, is watching me.
I wait for three seconds, and whirl around on whatever may be stalking up on me. The creature seems like a lion, but with bat wings, a broader face, and a scorpion tail, just like from before the timberwolf! The ugly beast reminds me of a monster from Greek mythology, the only difference being the face and the tail, as the one from Greek mythos has flingable spines along the length of its tail, and the face is far more human than the one currently in front of me now. The manticore looks confused for a moment, as if it wasn’t expecting me to detect it, then its expression becomes more hostile. The manticore roars loudly, trying to scare me, but it gave me an advantage by showing me confusion.
I simply shift my stance more evenly, inadvertently causing my knee to flare in pain. However, I ignore it and act like I feel no pain, and I roar right back at the beast. It is clearly taken aback by my sudden outburst, and shakes its head in a shrug. The manticore roars again, louder this time. I put an angry scowl on my face, as I am not about to let myself get eaten by this thing, so I roar again, louder and more ferociously than before, snarling furiously, and the manticore’s smug look is replaced by fear. The monster’s tail slips between its legs (how does that work?), and it slinks away.
I guffaw uproariously, and I limp away from the small clearing, moving around a copse in the middle of the path. I think back to what had just happened, and think, what if I didn't win that? What if I didn't turn around in time? What if this, what if that, blah blah blah. Still, I shudder at the thought of the manticore feasting upon my bloody entrails, whilst I’m still kicking and screaming. The rain is falling on my more thickly because of the much thinner tree cover, and I soon find myself at the crest of a hill, overlooking a small town.
Part of the town is on a short cliff, the rest of the town at the base of it and wrapping around to the top of the cliff as well. There is a massive tree in the town, briefly illuminated by the flashing lightning, and I could’ve sworn I saw windows. Correction, I know I saw windows, because I can see lights on in some of the buildings, including the tree. I looked down the slope of the hill I stood on, and began to slide down that side, as it is of sufficient steepness. Shimmying down on one leg, careful to not dirty my left knee any further, I reach the bottom and begin stumbling through the thick rain across open ground to the town.
My shoes are cleared of mud in the wet grass, and most of the bloody mud on my body is being washed off by the rain. I step onto the cobblestone streets, and work my way to the town center so that I could get directions to the hospital. The buildings I peered at through the rain were fairly short, and were painted in garish color schemes. The doorways looked much too small for any human my size, if humans lived here at all. seeing these houses and their decorations and door sizes reminded me of the Munchkins of Oz, the silly little things.
Every house with lights that I passed on my limping stroll had immediately been voided of illumination, leaving me in the bitter darkness of the storm. All the while, I felt like I was being watched, the feeling getting stronger the further into town I got, and it never wavered. I passed stall after stall, all of them empty, and I figured I was getting closer to my destination. I reached the town center, a statue of an equine shape adorning it, with large buildings including the tree surrounding it. I looked around in the gloom for a sign, any sign, that would point me towards the hospital.
Sadly, I couldn’t seem to find any, and when I looked at the tree, a silhouette darted away from one of the lighted windows. Hoping that the residents could help me, I limped to the front doors, and pressed my ear against the dark red wood. I quieted my self until I could only hear the rain, and hushed voices. “Mit gondolsz, hogy a dolog, lányok?” asked one a female.
“Én tudom, de úgy tűnik, hogy keresed valamit,” said another female, this one with a distinct southern American accent, despite the language spoken.
“Lehet, hogy igaza van drágám. Úgy tűnt, hogy lehet keresni az udvarra, már nem a legkisebb, hogy mi valami lehet,” a posh, cultured voice stated, also very feminine. A fourth voice was heard mumbling something, but it was indiscernible through the wooden structure, as the speaker was speaking very softly.
“Ne aggódj, ez valószínűleg elhagyja hamarosan. Nem vagyunk abban a veszélyben, így csak pihenni,” the first voice seemed to assure the silent person. Getting curious at what they were saying,’ I raised my hand and knocked on the door: shave and a haircut. I heard the tiny beings in the tree let out a collective gasp through the rain, and thunder rumbled through the air. The voices began to frantically hush, likely in the hopes that whatever ‘monster’ outside would leave them be. A clacking pattering of feet could be heard, accompanied by all of the building’s lights simultaneously extinguishing.
Once more, I raise my hand to knock, but am suddenly overwhelmed with nausea, and the world begins to spin. I stumble backwards into the rain, and gasp as pain flares up through my leg, magnified by my motion sickness. My vision blurs from the pain, and stars flash in my eyes. Soon, the nausea subsides, and the pain in my leg is reduced to a sullen throb. Gasping from the adrenaline which had flowed once more, I struggled to my feet, wincing as my head pounds in rhythm to my heart.
When I stand up straight, my vision swims again, and the pain in my head intensifies. I shut my eyes from the pain, and it soon recedes to a dull ache, a soft static accompanying the darkness. I open my eyes again, but what I see shocks me into utter silence as the static noise intensifies, and I hear the faintest of whispers. The rain continues to pour, but a thick mist has flooded the courtyard, shrouding everything, and giving the things that are even slightly visible a terrifying facade. I look around and I try to move, but I find my legs bound to the soft earth. I struggle to escape whatever is pinning my legs, and each motion is punished by an increase in the whispers’ volume.
With one last, futile tug, my right foot comes free from the ground, the stony soil crumbling away from my shoe, the static screaming in my ears. The whispers increased their cacophony, their words nearly audible. Their tone seems to be a mocking one, and my efforts to free my left leg from the stone climbing towards my bloodied knee redoubled. Now panicking, the voices increased in volume once more, now understandable, We are your escape. Come unto us, and rest in our safety from the dark. Come unto us. The voices repeated those last three words, and the static in the background graduated to a buzzing scream as my leg finally came free, the stone wrenching at my ankle and twisted it to an unnatural angle.
As I fell to the earth, I found the soil to be a dry, stony grey, even though the storm was still raging, soaking me in its rain. Upon impact to the ground, a puff of grey dust flew up, even though my hands felt the mud that I fell in. The screeching static rose to a crescendo, the voices now screaming their horrible chant, COME UNTO US! I refused to fall victim to their cries, and I unleash a cry of anguish, the pain and fear making itself known to this shrouded, evil world, and... it stops. The voices immediately ceased their wretched chant, and the static faded away, bleeding into the background of the violent storm.
Shaking from the fear and the cold of the night, I look around at the mist still shrouding the courtyard as I wonder, Why is the mist still here? My question is answered by a rumbling voice, filled with hatred and warping its own sound, Because I will it so. I am forcibly turned around by something, presumably the source of the hate-filled voice, and I am truly horrified by what I see. And, how I will never forget that terrifying visage, just as how I never forgot it all those years ago in the woods. The pale, white head devoid of anything indicating alive, with its face constantly shifting, instilling a sense of nauseous calm into me, just like it did five years ago.
The difference between then and now is I have nothing to defend myself with; only my willpower can help me from Its dark embrace. Its arms, cloaked in the screaming shadows of Its victims, are outstretched, beckoning me into Its warm, comforting oblivion. Last time, it nearly had me, the only thing that saved me was a simple doughnut, given to the monstrous Being through the underlying will to survive. Something told me to do that that night, to give the Being the last doughnut. That same Something is telling me to run.
Unable to stand, I crawl away from the Being, my eyes unable to tear away from Its evil facade. Lightning flashes, blinding me with light, and the monstrous face is imprinted onto my retinas, forcing me to shut my eyes. When I reopen them, the Being is closer to me, closer than physically possible to move within the blink of an eye. Still staring, I shimmy up the steps to the tree-cum-library, and I find my back against the tiny door. Lightning flashes again, and the Being has move closer in the flash, now standing at the base of the stairs.
I quickly reach up behind me, scrabbling for the door handle on the polished, red wood, my hand hurriedly grasping for the latch. Lighting flashes again, the thunder rumbles with a crashing boom, and the Thing is now standing over me, Its wretched, decaying fingers reaching for my face. My thumb hits the lever for the door, and it swings open, sending me falling to the hardwood floor of the tree, the Being now drifting closer to the threshold. In one last attempt to escape It, I kick the edge of the door, causing to crack slightly, and slam shut against its frame, shaking loose a thin layer of dust from the ceiling. The Being lets out an enraged, soul-rending screech, and slams against the door, the old wood threatening to give to the Being.
It presses Its face to the window, the rotted flesh stretching into a morphed scowl, a scream emitting from where Its mouth would be, if It were human. Staring in dread at the Being, my vision was filled with green and blue wavelengths, causing the shape of the Thing and the door to waver, and as suddenly as it had left, the static returned, wavering in time to my vision, and the Being disappeared, taking the static and visual tearing with it. I lay there, the wound on my knee spiking with pain, my twisted ankle aching and my head pounding in synchrony to my heartbeat, the only sounds in the silence being my ragged breathing, the storm, and the panicked gasps of breath behind me in the darkness. When I closed my eyes, the Beings faceless head assaulted my mind with squealing static. My eyes shot open in fear, only to be blinded by the lamplight that had suddenly popped into existence within the library. I reflexively shut my eyes, only to be met by the Being and Its warped static, and I scream in fear, my eyes snapping open again to escape the evil Entity in my mind’s eye.
I try to scramble to my feet to escape the leafy library, only for my knee to send cold flames coursing through my nerves. I ignored the fire, and stepped on my twisted ankle, the flash of burning iciness traveling across my body as I become enveloped in a violet aura, and am levitated above the ground. I try to struggle against its iron grip, my jerky movements rewarding me with an electric pulse that rendered me immobile. The pain of my muscles rapidly contracting in a violent spasm that felt like it would never end, the feeling very similar to being tased(not that I would know...) After what feels like hours, which was likely only a few seconds, I float above the ground in that violet aura, gasping for breath, each inhalation a struggle to suck in enough air to keep me conscious.
With each pained breath, my eyes remain closed, no longer seeing the Entity. I drift in and out of consciousness for a few moments, hearing what may be fragments of conversation, but I pay them no heed. The pain from the electrocution, the ravaged knee, and the twisted ankle no longer bother me, as I only feel numb. At some point, I feel my body being laid back onto the hardwood floor, at another I feel flat, round discs touching me with their soft warmth, and I hear myself wondering why hooves would feel that way... waitaminute. Hooves?!
My eyes shoot open in panicked confusion, and what I see hovering over me tending to my wounds only astounds me further. Technicolor ponies? What. The. Hell. I struggle against the invisible bonds pinning me down as the butter yellow winged pony wraps gauze around my knee, the remnants of my black jeans crusty with the dried blood and still sticky from the timberwolf’s sappy juices. And yet, something is nagging at me, tugging at something in the back of my mind; there is something I should remember about this place. I then realize that I am in an all-too-familiar land, one that shouldn’t even exist according to normal humans, yet there it is, and here I am: Equestria.
Warped Reality: Equestria
Chapter 01: Enter the Nightmare (Part One)
My mind is momentarily boggled, as the conversation between the ponies comes into focus, and I finally recognize the language: Hungarian. And as I realize this, their words begin to be translated automatically by my brain when I hear these words: "A nevem Twilight Sparkle. Mi a neve?" From then on, their words were English once I had recognized those few, simple words of that greeting, my mind clicked into action, and I then decided to screw with them.
"Salutări. Am venit în pace. Du-mă la liderul vostru," I switched my speech to Romanian on purpose, hoping they wouldn't understand. Upon seeing Twilight's face turn up in a mixture of joy and confusion upon hearing me speak a language she did not translate, I caused her jump in shock by laughing aloud, only to see the purple alicorn tumble backwards tail over teakettle into a filing cabinet, knocking half the texts from their perch in the adjacent shelving, burying Spike head to toe in hard covers. This only made me laugh even harder at my shenanigans to the point of tears. Slowly but surely, I calmed down from the insanity of my situation, ribs aching and finally said, "Oh, gawd, you are just too much! Hehe-hoo... wheew, I really needed that, thank you, hehe-haaa..." Spike groaned and rose from the pile of books rubbing his head, while Twilight opened her eyes, only to see me looking at her upside down with a manic grin on my face.
After I had regained control over myself, I lifted my arm to my head, or rather, tried to lift it. My body was secured to the table by leather bonds, and judging by the medical brace around my now bandaged knee, they were there to make sure I didn't hurt myself. Me, having acute merinthophobia(the fear of being restrained) began to panic and struggle against the straps, trying to escape. I soon began to hear the whispers again, and started to cut my wrists on the straps holding them there. I am quickly overcome with fear and I feel my irises turn a sickly yellow as my vision has that same color tinging my vision.
I could feel myself still struggling against my bonds, screaming for my release as I entered a state of tunnel vision where everything was the sick yellow-green of a healing bruise. Soon enough, the leather restraints were simultaneously unlatched, and I threw myself to the ground, retreating in fear to a darkened corner as the whispers stopped and my vision was restored. I shivered against a machine, likely meant for measuring neural activity, and mumbled to myself, assuring that I was safe here, that I wouldn't be hunted. But, if I was safe, then why was the Operator here? Upon even thinking Its name, I felt a static cloud my mind and the whispers returned in full force, this time with a new message.
“This world full of innocence and cheers, has now become tainted by your darkest fears. An ancient duty now falls to you, to fix the things that are thrown askew. In deepest cave your target lurks, find where ever its chaos works. To find your path look for the tree, around which the blackest clouds roam free. Three days you have to complete this task, lest you receive a most wretched mask.”
My world rumbled around me, quaking as my senses were distorted. Everything was a blur, twisted and warping until my feeling of reality shattered and I found myself falling through the shifting blackest of blacks. The whispers repeated my mission, the static washing over me in waves, forcing my hairs to stand on end and rattle in anticipation of something. After what felt like a lifetime of floating in the Void, it began to crumble apart and collapse, leaving me to fall a few meters to the ground. Feeling dizzy and disorientated from the lack of gravity, I struggled to my feet, eliciting a pained throb in my left foot.
My knee had nearly finished scabbing over, yellow plasma and small rivulets of blood dribbling from gaps in the scab, and I thought to myself, That’s healing nicely, and everything went black, the static still pervading my senses. When I felt something touch me, my eyes had opened to see the shifting black of the Void, and the static had immediately dulled to a numbing sensation, rendering my body uncooperative. I tried to move my limbs, but to no avail as I tried to turn my head. It worked, and my head slowly began to swivel on an unseen axis. When my eyes had landed on a minute white spot in the blackness, I felt myself being pulled toward the pure light emanating from the opening and the static had all but vanished, leaving a high-pitched whistle in its place as I slowly drifted towards the light.
The closer I came to the white opening, the harder my head pounded and the louder the whistle became, turning into the deafening howl of the wind rushing past my ears, and through my soul. As I was engulfed in the blinding white light, three words screamed in my head: Descend into Darkness! and I became numb to the world, my senses unresponsive. Slowly, the white faded to black, and I felt a cold warmth slip between my eyelids, and they opened. Temporarily blinded by the harsh, yet dim light of the place I found myself in, I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the torchlight. I lay on the cold, wet stone of the dungeon and let it chill my bones as I looked at my new environment.
I saw old and musty tapestries, ever so slightly rusted suits of human armor, mossy cobbles scattered throughout the building, and heavy wooden doors with creaky hinges in desperate need of an oiling. Glancing around at the cobwebs and bookcases spread about haphazardly, I noticed a glowing pink substance on the ground. Rising to my feet, I noticed my leg almost completely healed, all that remains of the recent injury being a few small scabs on a yellow bruise. Scars were crisscrossing over my flesh, and these were faded from age, even though I know full well that they are new, implying that they must have been healed with magic. I felt my ankle which was no longer swollen, and there was a persistent, nagging feeling of loss in the back of my mind, almost as if I’m forgetting an important detail.
Looking around once more, it hit me like a truck going 50 klicks an hour: I’m in Amnesia: the Dark Descent. Curling up into a fetal position on the floor, I groaned in annoyance; I never managed to finish the game, and I never played on anything except the hardest difficulty. A new thought strikes itself into my brain, as my mind tries to wrap itself around how I could have been sent from one fictional realm to another. I reach up with my right arm to lift myself using the crooked shelf next to me, when I notice something different, or rather, something missing: my arm is gone at mid-bicep, and has been replaced with a skeletal robotic replica. I gasp at the revelation, and rotate my new arm, my mind drawing a blank whenever I try to remember how it had happened.
Moving around the titanium prosthetic, I examine the electronic servos carefully, and a sense of familiarity overwhelms me as I look at the hydrogen fuel cell powering the mechanical limb. Taking note of the power level displayed on the side of the battery, it tells me that it is fully charged, and can last for another thirty-six hours before it needs to be replaced. Springing into motion, I leap to my feet when I hear a soft whimper off to my left, and fear of the unknown and the monsters known to lurk the castle in the game quickly rises in my throat. Looking around for anything to defend myself, my eyes land on a familiar black object, the torch light gleaming off of its polished finish as the metal hand wraps around the rubber grip. I pick up my SIG P226 Blackwater and eject the clip inside, seeing the nine bullets within, and I action the slide to eject the chambered round, sliding the discarded bullet back into the pistol alongside the rest of the ammunition.
Returning to a combat stance, I slowly creep along the road, following the sad sobbing, my personal sidearm providing comfort as I now have a way to defend myself. The crying echoes off of the halls, and the owner sounds to be in much emotional pain as I swing open the heavy wooden door. The room is dark, with the dim light of the lantern in the far corner emanating from behind a few stacked crates. I quickly strafe to the boxes, pistol aimed at the lit lantern and I move my SIG in correlation with my position to the wooden containers. The quiet sobbing increases in volume as I near the source, and my thumb flicks off the safety and the underbarrel laser shines its red dot on the steel frame of the lamp.
Growing ever nearer to the crates, the sobbing continues, but they have lessened in intensity, likely upon seeing the laser reticle of my pistol. I crouch down, trying to keep the little red dot in the same position, and I poke the barrel of my gun past the corner of the box, and I hear a soft gasp. Placing my hand on the side of the crate, I can barely feel miniscule vibrations, almost as if something is quivering in fear, and I turn the safety on, and whisper, “Hello? Are you okay there? Is... is there anything I can do to help?”
There’s another small gasp, and a feminine whisper replies, “Are you going to eat me?”
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and say a little louder, “Of course not, I’m not...” I pause, mulling over what I’m going to say carefully as to not worry whoever is hiding,”...one of those... things.” I bring my pistol up to my shoulder, making sure its end is pointed up, and I reach over and pick up the lantern. I turn the corner, and I find Twilight Sparkle cowering in fright. Her eyes widen in recognition upon seeing me, though she seems completely oblivious about my new arm.
“You? How d-did you g-get here?” she asks, surprised at my sudden appearance.
“Heh, I could ask you the same thing, little princess.” Immediately after saying this, I notice that her wings are missing; bloody bandages covering where they were severed from the little pony’s body. “Wha...?” Is my only response to this sight.
Twilight rubs her head in shame, and mumbles something that I could barely hear over the drip of water upon ancient stones. “I’m sorry, could you say that again? It sounded like you said ‘Fluttershy took them,’ but that’s impossible! She’s one of the sweetest, most gentle mares I have ever known!” of course, I shouldn’t be so surprised, as there are multiple FanFictions where sweet little Flutters is a murderer, but I refuse to read those.
“Uhm, yeah, I kinda did... something’s wrong here. All of my friends are insane! They’ve been horribly hurt, and they look like they’ve been tortured! The only one of them I haven’t seen is Rainbow Dash, but then again, we haven’t seen her for days back in Ponyville,” her eyes widen and she profusely apologizes, saying that she forgot I’ve never been to Ponyville, and I haven’t met her friends.
Shaking my head, I wave her off, “Don’t worry about it. I already know about you guys and your town from other sources. Besides, you failed to notice that I mentioned I already know who Fluttershy is, so you could have probably made the connection that I know who all of her best friends are.” We are pulled out of our conversation when we hear the rasp of chains on stone, and I quickly blow out the lantern, plunging us into the dark. Soon after I do so, I begin hearing the static again, but seemingly from far away as it came as a whisper, and I feel the effects of disorientation and a wave of nausea washes over me. Next to me, I feel Twilight wrap her forehooves around my left arm as we sit there, waiting for one of Amnesia’s monsters to pass by.
I find myself disappointed when I hear a pained voice begin, distorted by the static and dark magic in her voice, “He-hello? Is anypony there? Hello?!” I hear the mutilated Fluttershy walk around the room, her movement impeded by the chains. I reach into my pocket to search for the dynamo flashlight I always carry, when I notice a built-in LED on my robotic arm, and I quickly move out of cover, bringing my SIG to bear as I move around in the darkness. I reach over to on my light, and the harsh white light of the LEDs quickly illuminate Fluttershy. What I see is horrific, and is absolutely revolting to see.
She has a large metal disk around her neck, blood oozing from the raw flesh under the rusted steel. Rusty chains are wrapped around her bloodied hooves, each of them connecting and dragging a lump of metal wherever the poor pegasus goes. Long gashes dripping in stale blood crisscross her emaciated body, and her Cutie Mark was crossed out with blood still moist. Fluttershy’s fur is stained with dried blood and grime for weeks in the dark. Her wings are gone, the ragged bone jutting out from the slightly rotted limbs, whatever feathers that had remained plucked. The worst are her eyes, ripped from their sockets with the fur underneath dark with more blood and dried tears; they were the last things to go.
Enraged by the dark sight in front of me, enraged by whoever had done this, my heart felt like it had been stabbed a thousand times seeing a sweet and gentle mare such as the Element of Kindness in such a state. “Is that you, my love? You... you finally came!” I am thrown for a loop when she called me ‘her love,’ and my heart wrenched into a knot once more as I become confused with this revelation. Tears drop from my eyes as my vision wavers. I am torn; my mind tells me to shoot Fluttershy and put her out of her misery, but my heart cannot bring itself to kill the very embodiment of innocence. Innocence, the word flashes through my eyes and the static rises in volume.
I open my mouth to speak, but I find a lump lodged in my throat. Licking my lips, I swallow and try again, “Twilight, I need you to listen to me.”
“Y-yes? What is it?” she asks quietly, fearful of the remains of what once was her friend. “What do you need me to do?”
I shake my head to clear it, the motion unseen by Twilight and the broken pegasus in front of me, “I need you to teleport out of the room. Look at the doorway, and use your magic,” I say all of this calmly, despite how scared and distraught I really am. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Twilight’s horn glow violet, and she disappears, only to reappear a moment later outside of the storage chamber. She runs off to the left, lighting the lantern along the way. Turning back to Amnesia Fluttershy, I ask her, “What happened?”
Her empty eye sockets turn up in a soft expression, “What do you mean, my love? Please, could you be more specific? If you don’t mind, that is...” At the end of her query, her voice returns to normal, and I see the smallest of sparks in her not-eyes. I slowly take a hold of my lamp, and disengage it from its slot. With the built-in battery of the light, I set down on the ground in a way that would cast light around the entire room, allowing poor little Fluttershy to ‘see’ me. “Oh, my! You-! You’re human!” she stresses the word ‘human’ as she is able to fully perceive me, and I can spot the faintest traces of shadows wrapping around her real eyes, the light and sight of me forcing some of them away.
I place my hands on either side of her worn-out face and say, “Look into my eyes, little one.” She does so, and for a split second, the shadows are gone and the room shifts. I take my eyes from hers, and take note of the new area I am in. The corridor is shaded in a somber tone of grey, miniscule shadows twisting around the the stone bricks. The walls and pathways move around in an Escher Vault, attempting to disorient all who try to traverse it.
Looking back to Fluttershy, I find her gone, the iron shackles left in her stead with a bloody trail of feathers leading off into the distance. I feel a cold, tingly pressure on my lower back, and I rubberneck around to see who is watching me, only for my eyes to find nothing. Remembering something from one of my stories, I close my eyes and focus my will on a point between my eyes and slightly higher. Once I feel it, the sensation of being watched increases, and my eyes experience a searing pain, shooting open immediately. My perception of reality is twisted when I see previously invisible paths traversing the Vault, and one of them follows the blood, giving off a soft pink glow.
My eyes strafe the room again, but this time all of the paths are gone, aside from the pink one. I look back at it and it changed its color to a deep, crimson red. I shake my head to clear it of confused thoughts and I follow the red line. I pass door after shifting door, stair after shifting stair and I find myself no closer to the end of the path. Occasionally, I catch a fleeting glimpse of yellow in a doorway before it closes, or I find a strand of pink hair that slithers out of sight. When the stairs shift, they carry the sound of stone grinding on itself, but throughout the whole journey, the sound of rattling chains grows ever more frequent the further along I get.
This continues for what seems like forever, until the trail ends and the light fades from existence in a darkened area. My Sight is still active, as signified by the faded blue haze edging my vision, and I soon see more trails appearing, all but one of them the bloody scarlet from earlier. The last path leads the way I came, and is colored a comforting sky-blue. I lift my right arm to my face to activate the lamp when I see blue energy coursing through and arcing about the metal prosthetic. Focusing on the energy, I can feel the thrum of nature, and the violent twang of the electricity.
I close my eyes and imagine a ball of energy forming in my right hand, slowly growing larger until it encompasses the entire appendage. When I open them, my Sight has gone dormant and there is a werelight in my palm, and I notice the fuel cell being depleted by one hour as I hold the ethereal sphere in my will. The shock and awe I am overcome with shatters when I hear a voice, “Found you...!”