Fade to gray

by Gray Guard

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Human
Length: 1495

Waking up isn't easy. Waking up in a forest is even harder. Not remembering anything except the fact that you aren't a pony makes everything scary.

A young colt finds himself in the everfree forest. He remembers nothing aside from not being a pony. Getting used to his new life isn't easy, as his memories keep fading. The nightmares still haunt him though. He learns that who he might have been, could make him an outcast. There is also the matter of how he arrived here, and why a second voice in his dreams whispers to him.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-23 08:15:26 UTC

Awaken

"Oh my, this is most troublesome" the glow of her horn subsiding and stepping back form the trance she was in. Celestia scowled as she thought to herself "This has never happened before, and could be dangerous, I'd better go discuss this with the elements myself"

Chapter one

Awakening from his dreary rest, not truly feeling it had any effect, the young colt looked around. His thoughts were very groggy as realization hit him. He shot up frantically unable to remember anything. He had absolutely no recollection of where he had come from, or for that matter, his name. What he did know was that he hadn't woken up in his bed, if he had one, his memory was fading  faster and faster. He started to rub his face when he noticed his hooves.

"Whats this, I've never had hooves, have I?" He needed to figure out what was going on. "I should have ho... hu... cla... hmm." the words eluded him, he couldn't seem to remember what they were called.

He didn't have time to think much about it, as he heard a noise bellow out. A Frightening howl that fechoed out throughout the forest. He jumped, eyes darting back and forth. He was surrounded by trees, the sun barely able to be seen overhead. There was something out there too, He had to get out of the forest, and soon. He started running, not familiar with his surroundings he chose the direction that didn't lead towards the beast he heard.

The pain in his hooves told him he'd been running quite some time, stopping only occasionally to catch his breath. Eventually he found himself collapsed in a small clearing. He smiled faintly as he saw the glistening water of the pond he found. Moving up he stuck his whole face in, drinking and enjoying the cool water on his face. Pulling out he opened his eyes focused on what was in front of him.

"Whats this? he pondered, as the rippling water subsided. he began to see his image, starting to think back how he couldn't remember who or what he was. What he did notice was the image staring back at him, sharing the wide eyed, mouth dropped expression as him. He stared at it for quite some time till he came to terms with it:

He was a small horse...

No, not a horse, a small horse was called a pony, he was a pony. While his memory was fading, he knew he wasn't a pony yesterday. He had been, at work perhaps, images flashed in his head and he lost them just as quick. Now he was a pony, and a young one at that. He needed to figure out a way out of here to figure it out, and soon.

It would have to wait until morning, though, as the sun was setting quickly. It was now that fear had decided to settle in. He started to panic as he ran around looking for a place to rest. He eventually decided on a small rock formation that formed a tiny cave. It was small enough to prevent large beasts he decided, while also providing shelter. Now that that was decided, he nestled in to get some rest. He shivered, the cold getting to him, but there wasn't much he could do at this time. Maybe tomorrow, he thought, he would figure out where he was, and how to get home.

"How long has it been since this nightmare began" He cried, thinking back to the last week, or thats what he believed it to be. No matter which way he seemed to walk, he made no progress that he could see. He had taken the first day to locate some food for himself, and to check himself out better. He was a little gray colt with a white mane. Also it turns out he missed the wings on his back.

"Figures" he muttered, remembering one thing for certain "A fear of heights and I get wings" he sighed. If that was only the worst of his problems. The third day he was running out of food, what little was near that pond had run dry. He ventured out and looked for some food to last his next trip. He rummaged around in a new area when he heard it.

That low growl.

An awful smell.

He turned around.

He wasn't alone.

Green eyes staring at him, Sticks protruding every which way, its entire body made of wood.

"Im...impossible!" He couldn't believe a creature could be made of wood and be, well, alive.

Tears started to well up in his eyes as he backed up slowly. The creature roared as it started to charge him. Breaking into a full retreat he sprinted away, his path back to the cave blocked off he sprinted away in the opposite direction. The creature was gaining ground fast, but he spotted a small gathering of trees to hide in ahead. He ran as fast as he could, but the beast jumped in front of him. Staring him down he jumped back and took a defensive position. Charging at him and swinging his giant paw, the young colt was able to jump to the side. He knew he couldn't fight it, his only hope was hiding in the trees and hoping it would go away.

This thought was cut short by the pain of a wooden claw scraping along the side of his face. He fell to the side and crawled toward the trees, the blood on his face, and the hunger preventing him from standing. The wooden monstrosity came closer, knowing it had won the battle. Crawling closer, the tears flowed freely from the broken pony.

"Why did this even happen to me?" he wept, the last few days were probably the worst he'd ever experienced. No questions answered, he couldn't even remember his loved ones. What he wouldn't give for the loving embrace of his dad at the moment. Was this all just some cruel joke being played on me?

Its breath smelled terrible, and he could feel it. The shriek was terrible, but it came from neither of the two combatants here. He didn't know what it was, but it was similar to the beasts cry. He assumed it was another member of its pack in trouble, because he noticed the creature was retreating to the noise.

He had watch the other creatures of these woods come and go from his hiding place. He remembered the fights he witnessed. One day he watched the wooden wolves come back, presumably looking for him. When they couldn't find him they began to fight with each other. Breaking off and hurting each other for no reason aside from being angry.

"Aren't they family? Is this what its all about here? Anger, fighting... despair?"

Another day passed he watched as a snake, with the head of a chicken, turned what seemed like a lost cat into stone. The cat wasn't doing anything wrong, but this creature didn't seem to care.

"I hate this place"

"I hate the things that live here"

"I hate everything..."

He couldn't trust anything, everything here was filled with malice and hate. He had finally had enough, he decided he had to either get out, or die trying. The latter seeming the most likely option, he had little food, no way to carry much anyways. Until now he was able to use his wings to hold some food near his body, but now he was too weak to hold more then a couple items. his wounds hadn't fully healed, and his body was still sore.

He had been walking for a few hours, small sores started to bleed on his hooves. His scratches starting to get worse as he walked. His vision was starting to blur as he started to consider succumbing to the hunger and tiredness he was experiencing.

"Its not fair," he pouted the whole experience bearing down on him. He slumped over by a tree, tears streaming down his face, messing up his mane even further. Nothing mattered at this point, he could barely see, barely walk, his breathing was slowed.

He could hear what must of been the angels singing. He started to crawl towards must of been the end. The single voice rang out simply, telling him to be still and lay his head down. As he got closer he heard it better.

"Hush now, quiet now, its time to lay your sleepy head," the voice rang out. He realized he had reached the end of the forest that had held him captive the past week. Looking ahead he saw a cottage as it dawned on him he wasn't dead, and slowly crept forwards. He wanted to be near the sweet, kind voice; however he wasn't sure if he could trust it. Right now he could only think how about how tired and hungry he was.