Author's Note

I would very much appreciate it if you would take the time to like/dislike this story, and if you have some extra time, maybe even review it? All feedback is appreciated- positive or negative. Thank you for your time, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Trapped

Sweetie Belle opened her eyes, greeted to the uninviting darkness of the tiny room again.

She had fallen asleep. She questioned how. Had she cried herself to sleep? In this freezing, dark, terrifying prison? It seemed impossible, especially with the fear that had struck her before.

She was famished, and parched. Her mouth was drier than it had ever been.

How long had she been asleep? What time was it?

Is this real? She questioned suddenly.

The slightest hope came to her that this was all a dream. A disgusting nightmare tricking her into thinking she really was conscious, and really trapped in this room with no escape.

Wake up.

She waited, but nothing happened. She tried pinching herself, but nothing happened besides a sharp pain running up her leg.

She was still damp with tears, and she was covered from head to hoof in a thick layer of dirt. Her astonishing white fur had become an ugly dusty grey.

This wasn't just a nightmare. This was a living nightmare. She was indeed awake, and hope left her heart as quickly as it had foolishly entered.

Her scarf was still wrapped around her neck, although it was now tarnished and ruined, and was no longer any use.

'They brought me this scarf.'

That fact pumped anger into the filly, and she pulled the scarf off and threw it as hard as she could onto the floor, stomping on it.

"How was I stupid enough to trust you?!" she shouted, her eyes becoming misty.

She turned away.

Then she looked to the wall.

Her rucsac was there, leaning slumped on the wall. She had completely forgotten about it, and when she caught sight of it, she smiled.

She galloped over to it and zipped it open. The food she had packed was still there, calling her name.

She tore open some hay bars and wolfed them down as quickly as she ever had. She sucked on the straw of an apple juice carton. It tasted a lot better than bitter tears, and immediately washed her dry mouth with moisture and relief. Indeed, it was a refreshing feast.

When her ravenous hunger was satisfied at last, the small filly lay on the rucsac, taking in the scent of it and cuddling it close like a stuffed animal.

It still smelt just like the boutique. Strong perfume, and a slight musty smell due to being stored under her bed for a while. It even had a couple on tiny white hairs remaining on it from Opalescence.

It was the only thing left that she had from her home left. She held it protectively, and so tightly that the zip began to drag backwards slightly. Drawing it back again, she rested her head on the soft fabric.

It made her feel somewhat, that she was safe.

That she was loved.

And for a slight moment, everything was ok.

But then, that moment ended.

Immediately, the ceiling began to shake. A shocking bolt of fear struck Sweetie Belle. Abandoning the rucsac, she galloped into the corner, cowering in fear as the ceiling opened.

Blood Moon and Storm Star were looking down at her from a metal platform, along with many other ponies, and none of them looked friendly.

The room looked so high up. There were platforms and machinery everywhere. Ponies activating switches, and pressing buttons. But the most concerning part was that the whole place reeked of... flesh. No, not just flesh, rotting flesh. It made Sweetie Belle want to vomit the hay bars she had just eaten. Yet she managed to stay solid- her stomach, anyway. The filly instead, was crying, shaking, as fresh tears trailed down her already damp cheeks. She wanted to run- but there was nowhere to run.

She screamed out in desperation.

"What are you going to do?! What do you want?!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Blood Moon let out a haunting cackle, before pointing up to a pony on a higher platform.

"This is what happens to little fillies that trust strangers!" she let out another echoing laugh, "start the machine, Wooden Toaster!"

Sweetie Belle swore that her heart stopped beating. Everything froze into place for a split second.

But before she had any time to react, to scream, to do anything at all, a claw shot down into the room, and almost crushing her with it's dangerously tight grasp, it plucked her out of the room and swiftly carried her to a machine.

A large machine. A terrifyingly large machine. And attached to it was a metal table with cuffs welded on, and another claw with a sharp blade tied on... which looked like in only a press of a button, it could fly to the table, piercing anypony trapped on it in the chest...

Sweetie Belle screamed.

This was it.