Soreness was the first thing to come into the mare’s mind as she was birthed back into the realm of consciousness and actuality. She felt stiff, taking her a bit more time to shift from her cramped prone position to a sitting one. Grogginess fading, the unicorn began to notice her current whereabouts contrasted sharply with where she thought she had slept. The usually bland wallpaper of her bedroom had been replaced by a nearly all white chamber. Opaque, backlit white panels covered the walls, being divided by steel inlays that stretched around the room. In lieu of a bed was a metal divot where she rested.
“What…” the unicorn whispered, short of breath and reasoning. Rising, she got to her hooves and felt the gentle caress a grey jumpsuit that fit rather loosely. Inspecting the clothing closer, she noticed “Scratch” was printed in bold, black lettering on her chest. Other than that, the jumpsuits empty pockets did little to provide her with any explanation as to her current location.
Inspecting the room closely in a dream-esque state, she noticed something bizarre. It was a perfectly symmetrical cube, zero discrepancies in it's design. Each face of the room had a small square hatch at it's center, fixed with a smooth black lever. Taking a quick glance upward, even the ceiling sported one of these hatches, though particularly inaccessible. Wiping a strand of blue hair from her magenta eyes, Scratch began to devise a sort of strategy. Though she was rather limited in resources, the most instinctual action was carried out.
“Hello!” she cried, shout oddly deafened which was enough to keep her quiet as sound proofing was obviously at play. The hatches were very tempting, but Scratch refrained from their use as a state of paranoia set in. But after what she assumed was several minutes, her options couldn't deviate beyond taking a plunge into through one of the five accessible exits.
“Okay,” the pure white mare sighed.
First, the floor bound hatch. Setting her azure veil over the handle, she twisted it clockwise twice until it gave way to a click. The hatch door extended an inch outward, allowing Scratch to push it to the side and get a view of what was beyond it.
Another room…
The room below was identical in every way to the one above it, though took on a noticeably yellow hue that contrasted sharply with the white of her own. A narrow, square crawlspace connected the two chambers. Still peering down the hole, she was spurred into adrenaline filled alertness as a shrill scream from an unidentified location filled her chamber. Distorted by the walls it passed through, and the ears that caught it.
There are other ponies here. Shit. The fuck is happening?
Shaking off the feeling, she slid the door closed and locked it, as the drop to the floor below her was rather intimidating. Now she referred to one of the hatches on the wall, but was unable to get close enough to open it, the hatch a full head higher than her. Quick observation revealed steel rugs that were built into the metal inlays, so a quick climb allowed her to open the hatch and view yet another room on the opposite side. But emanating a hellish red
Fear filling her, she shut the door and went onto refer to all remaining hatches. All leading to another cube shaped chamber. The room across to the red sanctum being deep blue. To the right a brown space. And to the left another white chamber. Where they lead to was apparent but a bit unnerving as variables began to come into play. Such as the colorations significance and what could lie beyond the next set of chambers.
Suddenly, an idea came to mind.
Scratch quickly referred to one of the door handles and slid off the synthetic grip with a bit of work. The black plastic fit tightly into her maw, she opened up the floor hatch to the yellow room below. Placing the device to the side, she shouted down the small tunnel that led to a rather concerning fall. Unsatisfied with an empty response, she took the grip in her veil, hung it over the small hole and dropped it. What she hoped to accomplish was to see if anything would happen. Hopefully from something sentient that might be hiding, the object would be of some concern to anyone hidden.
A minute passed…
Then several more…
“Hello!” she shouted again the hole. “Is anyone down there? Do you know wh-”
The unicorn found her words stolen as a figure came into view, her already pale face become ghostly. It was a small filly, fitted in a identical grey jumpsuit. She looked malnourished, made apparent by the grey cloth that hung off her like a sheet, seeming several sizes too large. The filly looked up with watery amber eyes that sunk a bit in their sockets.
“H-hey there,” Scratch stuttered, trying to find the right words, “Are you okay down there?”
“Don’t come down here,” the filly said sternly, “It’s bad.”
The unicorn cocked her head. “What do you mean?” But she didn’t respond as she broke her stare and walked away, rather precariously along the metal inlay. Distress suddenly found the pale pony as her only lead began to flee. Hearing the telltale turing of a hatch's handle, Scratch found her options dwindling.
Decision made upon the handle’s click, she tried to lower herself to the room below, hooves gripping the ledge. Realizing she was no where near long enough to lower herself completely down onto the floor nearly fifteen meters below, she released her grip and landed rather painfully onto the yellow chamber’s floor hatch. Taking a few moments to recover, she stood at the center of the room and found the little filly closing the hatch to her crawl space.
“No!” the desperate mare pleaded and went for the hatch. As she stepped off the metal doorway and out of it’s small divot, she felt the yellow pane beneath her hoof indent slightly. Before she was able to respond to the odd stimuli, intense, nearly numbing pain coursed through her body, associated with a swift gush of wind. Scratch just stood there as she watched the metal door close and the handle spin counter-clockwise until it locked.
Thin lines of crimson began to stretch across her body. As the lines thickened, she raised a hoof to have it crumble into neat polygons of meat. Unable to respond, she stared back at the hatch as her entire body fell apart until it was nothing but a pile of diced equine muscle and jumpsuit.
A meter away was a wire frame hanging from the ceiling, blood vaguely outlining the pony’s form as it dripped onto the yellow tiles. The grim trap soon collapsed itself back into a compartment in the ceiling, awaiting it next victim.
CUBE
