Your Human and You: From the Shadows

Chapters

01. Mistakes
02. Dazed and Confused
03. Moving
04. Cold Comfort
05. Bodach Glas
06. Stone and Steel
07. The Void
08. Questions
09. Lesson Zero

01. Mistakes

Shira Edited Edition 7/4/2014

“The phoenix must burn to emerge.”

Janet Fitch, White Oleander

For days, I had been hiding out in the dense forest, biding my time. At first, I thought my so called "arrival" into this world was little more than a hallucination after my hunting blind was struck by lightning. Despite the agony coursing through my burnt body, I had managed to crawl to my pack and retrieve the emergency beacon and press the "911" button before darkness claimed me. An indeterminate amount of time passed in the black behind my eyelids before the world returned to me. With it came the ever-present pain that still plagues me.

The first few days were certainly filled with learning experiences. In the beginning, I was convinced that someone had received the signal from the beacon and help was on its way. Too weak to do much more than crawl, I spent the majority of what time I was conscious trying to make sure my wounds would not become infected. With the aid of one of the mirrored panels built into the blind, I was able to find that the vast majority of my neck and torso was spiderwebbed with crimson burns that looked akin to a hellish tree carved into my flesh. Scars I could handle, but panic set in for a short while when I realized that the bolt had barely missed impacting my left eye. Instead, the energy had leapt from point to point from my cheekbone and throughout my body. Glossy pink tissue above my adams apple explained why it hurt to swallow, let alone talk. Attempting speech made colors swirl in front of my eyes while it felt like someone was rasping the inside of my throat with coarse sandpaper while strangled noises came forth.

On the second day, I managed to stand enough to look out through one of the many inset windows and into the forest beyond. The field of clover I had carefully set camp next to was no more. Open land was replaced with dense forest that light could barely penetrate. I had no idea where I was or if this was some kind of hallucination. Only time would prove which was true. There was a small bit of good news though, the soft babbling I had heard from my previous place on the ground turned out to be a gently flowing brook no more than a hundred strides from my shelter. It looked like water was something I wasn’t going to be in short supply of.

Little by little, I managed to regain some use of my limbs. On the fourth day, I managed to leave the so-called comfort of my shelter. It was odd seeing trees of a sort I didn't recognize. Some had white papery bark like the birch trees I was so used to, yet carried needles like pine trees. Others were just the opposite, appearing to be a spruce but covered in leaves and freshly sprouting buds. Even the scents in the air were wrong as I stumbled toward the stream, canteen in hand. The smell of moist earth was one thing, but the rest teased the back of my mind. In the end, the canteen was filled without too much hassle and was gently making bubbling noises as the purification tablets worked. It then occurred to me that I hadn't checked the emergency locator in some time. My heart fell when I fished the bright orange and black unit out of a pouch on my backpack. Where there should have been a bright green light blinking every ten seconds, there was only a red light that repeated every five seconds. Signal sent, no satellite link established. It meant I was alone and injured in a place that only the gods knew about. As I bedded down for the evening, thoughts of family and home wouldn’t leave me to rest.

This can’t be a hallucination, it has been days after all.

But what if you have traumatic brain damage?

Well, I probably wouldn’t be talking to myself in big words, now would I?

It was mid-afternoon on the seventh day that things changed for me. I was able to walk around fairly decently at this time, despite being stiff and generally sore. Yesterday I had started to take marking tape and trying loops onto trees so I could find my way back to the blind if lost. The bright fluorescent colored strips fluttered slightly in the breeze, with the movement catching my attention every now and again. That however was not what made my mood improve so greatly. The sound of branches breaking had managed to rouse me from my slumber in my canvas chair.

The soft cracking of wood caught my attention as I awoke. Immediately, my hand fled to the revolver holstered on my chest in case it was some form of predator. Being injured and alone was bad enough, being dinner would be far worse. Slowly I inched upright from the chair to stand in the center of the blind. Through the camouflaged mesh windows there was a great view of trees and more trees. The soft noises continued toward the stream at a slow yet steady pace that eventually revealed some kind of miniature horse. Despite the dull brown coat and black mane the creature looked to be in good enough health. The general lack of care for its coat only reinforced the idea that there was no society for miles around. Knowing my stored food was quickly dwindling, I made a snap decision. Many people back home gave me grief over the fact that I had enjoyed the occasional horse steak. In a situation like this, I sincerely doubted they could say the same.

Plan firmly entrenched in my mind, I inched toward the rifle cradled on a tripod near the window with the muzzle barely protruding past the mesh. I had completely forgotten about pulling the rifle back in case of mosquitoes or other insects and closing the window, so this came out in my favor. With two barely audible "pops," my fingers opened the caps protecting my scope to let me see the world in more detail. Cool synthetic leather pressed against my cheek as I brought the rifle tight to my shoulder and panned left toward what was to be my dinner. For a moment, I'll admit there was some hesitation when I realized there was some kind of berry logo painted or dyed on the flank of the pony before reminding myself about how little food I had left. If I ever found whoever owned the creature I'd try to make reparations later.

The brown animal's ears perked up for a second as the cool metal bolt in my hand cycled, opening the action to strip off a round from the magazine and clicking as it shut. Step by step it warily creeped to the edge of the stream while eyeing the surrounding brushes with strangely large and expressive eyes for an animal. Nonetheless, it eventually lowered it's head to the cool water and began drinking, oblivious to what was to come.

Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

The knurled ring on the scope twisted silently in my hand, zooming in on the animal. A hundred yards is a simple shot. A hundred yards is little more than practice on paper. Despite the crosshair being leveled on the pony, I watched its movement, saw how the shoulder moved, biding my time. So many people think hunting is about little more than killing. Doing so ethically is something people forget so often.

In this case, mentally I compared the pony to other animals I had hunted over the years and decided on a shot. The sights settled onto a spot slightly behind and below the shoulder joint as I waited. Thankfully, it wasn't too long as the animal stepped forward an extra step to reach deeper water. With the soft underside of the joint exposed, I pushed the safety forward with a soft click and exhaled. It must have heard the safety as water cascaded down the pony's muzzle and neck when it's head snapped upright from the stream. In the end, it was too late for the creature even as I would have sworn a look of panic overtook its features. Even as its jaw dropped, my finger squeezing the trigger reached a peak and my rifle uttered a single angry bark into the forest...

02. Dazed and Confused

Majority of the chapter edited by Shira. Some content added post edit as well.

From the trigger breaking, to the bloody aftermath took less than a heartbeat. The pony tried to run, tried to flee the cacophony of noise, only to find that breath would not come and there was a dull ache spreading from its chest. It looked down as if to trying to understand why it could not breathe or find the source of the ever-present and overpowering pain. In the end, it only lasted a moment before the strangely colored animal fell to its front legs before toppling onto its right side. Knowing what was coming, my hands were already cycling the action of my rifle to prevent what pain I could. The shot was close to perfect that it could be, but there is always horror in killing. Horror I strode to prevent as spasms began to overtake the creature as the view through my scope changed to reveal part of the ponies head. Exhaling softly, my finger tightened on the trigger once more and noise shattered the quiet of the forest yet again.

For what I guessed was minutes I watched the animal through my scope to assure myself that it was deceased. Truthfully it could have been only a few seconds as time seemed to blur during moments like this. Either way, I knew my bullets had done their job. Deftly, I opened the action on the rifle and placed the fired case in one of the many loops embedded in the sling before dragging the tripod fully into the blind. The mesh window was quickly sealed with a series of loops over buttons before I turned to grab the smaller of my two packs from the wall. Unceremoniously, it was dumped into what pretty much equated to a two wheeled wheelbarrow inside the blind. It only took a moment to unclasp the door and pull the cart behind me before closing my temporary home again.

Wearily, I dragged the cart across the dirt behind me. As much as it pained me, I needed to lean on the cart as much as possible. A few days might have passed, but every breath still pained me to the point every breath was a struggle. The soft earth gave easily beneath the wheels more and more with every step until I was standing on the edge of the shallow but calming brook. It really was a shame I’d have to sunder such beauty with what was to come.

After a minute or two of fussing with it, I managed to get the cart across the rocky bottom of the stream without too much effort. I'd need the contents within for the task ahead of me. Up close, the creature was even stranger looking than I thought; the entire body shape was off when compared to the animals I was used to. It was similar enough that I'd still know what to do, but left an odd feeling in the back of my mind as I kneeled next to the fallen pony.. What could have once been a beautiful coat of auburn fur was matted and muddied from the creatures demise. The short drag to move it up the bank of the stream did not do any favors either. Many people considered how I hunted strange or just "different" than most, but it reverberated through my soul. I could no more refuse my actions than a priest could recite scripture. An outstretched hand brushed across the strangely soft fur for a moment as my outstretched fingers closed the oddly deep blue eyes of the pony. I tried to speak my thanks, but my voice still hadn't returned. Internally, I still recited my prayer as always.

"Thank you for giving your life that I may live. I pray I did my part and your end was as painless as possible."

The small pack lay opened on the sodden grass next to me with contents shining in the late afternoon light. A variety of knives and sharpening tools was spread nearby as well as a series of canvas bags dangling from the edge of the cart. Blue surgical gloves adorned my hands as I considered which knife to start with, before settling on a thin skinner. With two fingers, I found and followed the jugular and carotid in the poor creatures neck as I made the first deep cut. Blood doesn't well up like you see in movies, but as the vital lines were severed it began to flow freely. Thankfully, I had placed the pony with it's head toward the stream so the blood would flow down and away. From there, the hard work began in earnest..

One long slice down and away from the neck slit the hide all the way to the breastbone. The sound of a blade sliding through skin is nigh indescriblable, both sharp and dull, bitter but rewarding, yet required either way. From there, I carefully slid the knife downward, only pausing to roll the pony onto its back and momentarily musing to myself about what the proper name for a male miniature horse was. Starting low, I turned the blade upward and slid the tip though the thin skin and muscle of the stomach before slicing up toward the sternum. After the first few inches, my finger joined the tip of the knife inside the carcass to guide the blade and ensure nothing was punctured by my endeavors. Thankfully my father had shown me a method in my youth that didn't involve completely dissecting an animal to get what meat was available. Slice after slice, the razor sharp edge of my knife peeled the skin and connective tissues away from the rest of the body. The sickly sweet scent of fresh blood was flooding the air at this point, despite the trail of crimson that stained the small creek.

Most people would have taken a break at some point through the entire process, but years of practice streamlined the work significantly as bloody canvas bags began to accumulate inside the cart. At first it was little things like the flank strips from the firm stomach, or even the thin strips of meat from the breast. This is where experience wins out over tradition, when a small set of bolt cutters filled my gore encrusted hands. Then again, most deer hunters don't have to worry about Alaskan grizzly bears. The worn stainless blades slipped into the notches I carved into the meat of the ribs with little issue and only a slight sopping noise. There was always some resistance when pushing the handles together, always a sickening amount of give for just a moment before the first rib split under the pressure. The wet crackling sound is always cringe worthy, but the animal would never have felt it anyhow.

While I worked, my vision floated over the nearby brush warily as fresh blood was always a sign for predators. Sometimes you get lucky, other times you don't. Snap by sickening snap, the ribs came away in one giant section that I awkwardly slid into one of the many bags I had unfurled earlier. They would need a significant amount of trimming later, but that was a problem for later. I had intended to salvage what meat I could from the heart, but my shot was slightly lower than I imagined. With the ribs out of the way, the true extent of the damage was evident. The Federal Fusion bullets I was so fond of had done a spectacular job as there was a large hole through the top of the heart that severed the aorta and punctured both lungs. At least I could reassure myself that the critter was only in pain for a moment before massive blood loss set in. There was little more to do than sigh and go back to work at this point.

In the end, it took the better part of an hour to completely process the body of the miniature horse. Its wasn't glamorous like you see in movies, but it was a necessity. As I worked, I made sure to cut away the skin that carried the odd painting or branding. At the very least I'd hopefully be able to find the owner of the animal and make reparations for killing his stock. I'd never heard of anyone painting a logo onto their animals though. Weirder still was the fact that the coloration was clear through all the fur I could find. Odd that someone would go through all that effort to paint a berry on a horses ass.

These were the things I mused on while taking care of the remains. The offal I gently pulled aside and slid into a deep point in the stream. It was an old trick from my childhood, but being able to easily catch fish near the entrails might be useful. Not to mention it helped what was left of the creature return to nature quickly. I was reaching for the small pile of bloody bones to do the same when a voice shouted from deeper in the forest and startling the hell out of me.

"Hey Clipwing! Clipwing! We can smell the blood. What did you get? I swear if I have to eat changeling again..."

Immediately my mind went to poachers or something else crazy going on. Who else would use names like that? For being injured as I was, blood was still pounding in my ears as I leapt across the stream and sprinted toward the shelter of my blind. Every step brought new agony through me as the burns and marks across my body made their presence known. I never felt the branch that whipped across my face, but the wet heat that spread was obvious. Still it was the last thing on my mind as I scrambled the last few feet into the blind before my mind gave up on me.

I had to have lost what remained of my mind as something that didn't make sense dove through the treetops and settled into the small clearing near where I had been working moments before. All the mythology I read as a kid screamed griffin as the hybrid was part lion and part eagle, but nature doesn't work like that. It just can't. All I could do was try to slow my wheezing breaths as I hoped the thing couldn't see the blind I was hiding in.

"Clipwing! Where are you?"

That is when I realized that the majority of the game bags were still hanging from the branch I tied them to near the carcass. Thankfully the cart and the few bags I had loaded into it were already back in the blind with me. It had taken a painful trip but I had managed to get my knives and the more sensitive meats into shelter minutes before. There was no way the thing could miss the dripping canvas bags though.

"Whatever. I'm going to chow down. Great job on letting the meat bleed like that. What did you get anyhow?"

...fuck.

I watched every action the hybrid made with great interest and the hope of not being discovered. There was just no way in the world this made sense. It was too vivid to be a hallucination though. The golden and ivory plumage all the way to the way light shined against the beak and talons of the...thing as it untied one of the bags was just too realistic. I must have hit my head or am in a coma. Only thing that can explain this.

"I love ribs! Thanks Clipwing! This is getting kinda old though. Where are you?"

The sharp beak of the so called "griffin" tore through the bone with a series of wet cracks as it chewed. At least one of us was able to eat as the noises made the gorge in my throat start to rise. That was until the meat fell from the outstretched talons of the creature and onto the sodden ground with a dull thump. The gold colored eyes of the animal were wide for just a moment before it bolted to the skies screaming.

"Clipwing! You killed a pony! What is wrong with you!"

Slowly my eyes tracked to where the griffin was looking when the meat fell, only to reveal the glassy eyes and still screaming face of the creature I had skinned just a few minutes prior.

I tried to speak but it only came out as a wheezing rasp. Internally there was only one thing to say.

"What the fuck did I get into?"

03. Moving

...fuck.

I knew I was in no shape to break camp, but giant flying carnivores were a good enough reason to try anyhow. This still seemed far to surreal, but panicking would have to come after getting well away from here and whatever those "griffin" things were. It took all I had to force the growing fear and confusion to the rear of my mind to be dealt with later. Not getting eaten seemed like a better plan than breaking down anyhow.

As I loaded my pack into the bottom of the cart, I was contemplating how to get away. There really didn't seem to be too many options due to the forest and probable return of the griffins. The big thing was the meat. I needed food as I was down to just a day or two, but the reaction from the creatures about eating a "pony" made me a bit wary. It would have to be cooked and tested in small samples to make sure it wasn't poisonous. Considering that the griffin had a good view of the game bags hanging from the tree, I didn't want to grab them at this point. All it would do was alert whatever came after that there was someone else was here. Considering the griffins apparently could smell blood, that would be bad. Thankfully I had the majority of the meat loaded in the cart already.

So many things on my mind as the few contents of the blind were quickly broken down and placed into their places on the cart. After only a handful of minutes it just left the hard part, breaking down the blind. It wasn't hard, just a pain in the butt to assemble really. Uprooting the dull grey stakes I had pounded into the moist ground was a simple affair. A sharp tug on the rope attached to them and the stakes slid free of the ground. One after another, I walked in a small circle around the blind uprooting the small spikes and tossed them over the top of the blind. After a moment, I was left with a tangled mess of dark green paracord and the camo netting that was draped over the hide.

Knowing I could figure the tangle out later, I just stuffed it on top of my pack in the cart. This left me with a series of mirrored panels that reminded me of a funhouse up close. They were the secret behind how blinds like this were pretty well invisible if the hunter took their time placing the setup. For all the complexity, all this was fairly simple to take apart. The mirrored panels came away with little more than a tug to break them free of the nearby panels before lifting them up and away like a giant lego set. This was the fun part on a sunny day, but in the gloom of the forest it was downright irritating. One by one, the panels stacked into slots built into the cart.

Holy crap I look horrible.

My battered reflection met my eyes while I worked. Up close, the mirrors revealed just how bad it could have been through the map of smooth pink burns across my face.

So freaking lucky. I'm stuck in Wonderland or a realistic coma.

Working as quickly as possible, this was still the longest and most stressful part of disassembling the hide. Every few seconds I'd pause to listen and look around swearing I heard something. Thankfully each time I was proven wrong. Eventually, I was faced with little more than a hook studded aluminum frame with waterproof fabric stretched over it. This was the fun and easy part. At the top of each aluminum pole was a series of pins with a ring attached to each. Pull the pins to unlock the frame and then push everything toward the center of the blind. Easy. A moment later, the entire assembly was in the cart with bungee straps holding it down.

Confident that everything was snugly packed away and the rifle was cradled carefully, there was only one thing left to do. Inwardly groaning, I lifted up on the pull bar and pushed the kickstand under the cart up with my foot. This was going to be a long walk. I purposely chose a long curving path toward the stream while mentally steeling myself for the cool water ahead of me. The first step was chilling at first, but quickly only became cool as water coated my legs. A moment later, the cart was lightly bobbing against the current behind me while I tortuously turned the damned thing to face upstream. Hopefully with the tracks pointed downstream anything would think I took that path, instead of upstream and using the current to wash away my footsteps.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

04. Cold Comfort

It had been a good hour or so since I left camp. Every step upstream through the small creek just managed to make me more miserable. Being alone with your thoughts in a completely foreign place is never a good thing after all. The strange reaction from the griffin just played in my head over and over as the ground passed. Squishing mud and the soft gurgling water were my only companions as I trudged onward.

About a mile in the distance, I could see the canopy of leaves thinning out as pillars of golden light trickled down into the gloom. In a dense forest like this, it only meant one thing; There would be a clearing of sorts past where the trees thinned out. After a moment of consideration and planning, I decided it was safest to set camp nearby as the woods were still fairly dense.

With a little tugging, the cart slid out of the water to join my dripping form on the muddy shore. On one hand, it was nice to be out of that cool water and back on land. Downside is mud and dealing with soaking clothes. Swearing under my breath with every soggy step, I worked up the small embankment and toward a gap in the brush. The plants around here were still strange by any experience of mine, growing in odd clusters here and there. Thankfully there was enough room to slip the cart between plants and trees without having to cut a trail.

Just out of eyesight was a cluster of plants that would fit my needs perfectly. I didn’t want to go too far into the brush and get lost after all. The site was close enough to the stream that I could easily find my way back even in the dark, as well as being able to hear anything coming up the creek. With a group of the odd trees at my back and a cluster of brush on all sides, this felt like the perfect place to set camp.

First things first, before getting too close to my chosen site there was something important to do. I had no idea if there were bears around here, but the griffins could smell blood. Keeping them away from camp should be the same, at least I hoped. With that in mind, I tugged the bin containing the remaining bloody bags out of the cart. Keeping my belongings in sight, I trekked deeper into the forest for a short distance until a branch meeting my needs poked out from one of the trees. A minute or two later, the bin was strung up from the branch to deal with after setting camp.

Twenty minutes later…

Setting up the hide was more of a pain than I imagined in the place I decided on, but it was damn well invisible. The mirrors and netting made the unit blend seamlessly into the brush surrounding it. After wheeling the cart into the blind, I grabbed my pack and rifle with one thing on my mind. Dinner. I wanted to conserve what preserved food I had, so the menu for tonight was pony. Small bits at first, as I wasn’t sure if it was poisonous. Setting up the pocket stove was a simple affair really. Screw the propane canister onto the bottom of the burner and then light it with a match. A small strip of the meat was lightly dusted with some salt and pepper before being speared on the end of a knife and held over the blue flame.

Two hours. Two freaking hours before I was able to actually eat. It was worth it to find out that the pony things weren’t poisonous, but considering all I’d eaten earlier today was some dehydrated food for breakfast I was starving. In the end, pony actually wasn’t that bad tasting. It was considerably leaner than beef, but without the gamey taste of moose. Almost a sweetness to the meat, if you could call it that. Personally, I was a little bit busy sitting on a log and cooking something better than reconstituted goop, so maximum flavor wasn’t peak on my list.

Too many memories came to mind as I cooked and ate; all the hunting trips with my family and friends. Family and friends who probably had no idea where I’d disappeared to. The State Troopers had probably found my truck days ago, but obviously hadn’t found me as even I had no idea where the hell I was. Mom was probably frantic and burning a hole in my voicemail along with my sisters. When I get back, IF I get back, I’d be in a world of hurt.

I really need to figure out where the hell I am and find some people to get me home.

In the dying light, I began to pack up the small stove so I could finish my tasks for the night. I at least wanted to make it down to the clearing and see what was there. That way I’d know what was to come when I headed out in the morning. The meat was quickly strung up again, hopefully out of reach of any predators. A short trip later, I was detaching the smaller pack from rest and strapping it around my waist. Considering this was just to be a short hike, I didn’t need to carry the mass of gear with me. Out of a pocket, I fished out the small Surefire flashlight and clipped it to my hat, in case I needed light to navigate. My last act was to push the calibrate button my my “tracker.” It had a fancy name, but it was basically a glorified compass and pedometer. Hit a button to start it, and another to flip the settings to lead you back to the marked location.

Rifle in hand, I set out to see what could be found. The old growth of the forest made movement somewhat easy as the brush was either clustered or small enough to step over. Every few trees, I’d pull a trail tack out of my pouch and push it into the trunk above head height. To most they just looked like white dots, but if you know what to look for they would guide you back the way you came. Each time I’d pause to set a tack, I’d listen to the forest around me. The birds chirped and tweeted from above and the occasional squirrel chittered angrily as I passed, all of which were good signs.

The sun was starting to set by the time I reached the edge of the clearing. Fresh growth sprouted everywhere, including a few small trees that I swore were willows as I inched my way to the treeline. Every step was planned out ahead of time, every movement as noise would carry into the field. I had picked a spot under the crook of a fallen tree as my vantage point, and each movement carefully pulled me that way until I was kneeling under it. The sickly sweet scent of rot and old leaves filled the air while I finally settled into a comfortable spot. Propping the rifle up on another section of broken trunk, it settled into the familiar spot on my shoulder before the view stunned me.

The clearing was not what I expected. A small hamlet sat on the far side of what was a decently sized and well tilled field. What stunned me the most was the horses...er...ponies. Entire groups of foals were running around near the small stone wall surrounding the village. With a quick twist, the image got clearer through the scope even though there was a crosshair dancing among the ponies. I could see the different colored foals kicking around a blue ball in some sort of game with other ponies sitting on the sidelines. One of them looked to be wearing an apron and have a small table with drinks on it. It didn't make sense.

Animals don’t…

Didn’t the griffin seem freaked out about the pony meat? It isn’t poisonous.

But that…

Oh fuck...

I barely made it out from under the tree and my sitting position before the realization of my dinner fully hit me.

05. Bodach Glas

I wish I could say something witty and manly, but lets be honest here. Clawing at the dirt, I barely managed to make it out from under the tree before my stomach...left me. When all you’ve had to eat in the last several hours was meat and water, it makes everything more unpleasant. Thankfully the retching and unpleasant act didn’t last long. It just left me alone with my thoughts and the sickly scent of shame as I headed back toward camp. Every white dot took me a painful step closer to my new “home.”

I’d have to come up with something to do with the mea...remains now that I knew where it came from. There was a small war going on in the back of my mind as practicality clashed with morality.

You don’t have another food source, idiot.

But it would pretty much be cannibalism in kind of a fucked up way.

Onward the argument went, fueled by both hunger and the cold realization of what I’d done.

I’ll figure out in the morning....

At least I had a simple plan. Get back to the hide and get the taste of vomit out of my mouth. After that would come another fitful night of sleep on too thin of a pad against hard ground. That left one thing to do and the walk back to camp felt a lot longer than it really was. As night began to fall, the dim output of my helmet light became more important with every step. The small reflective tags glowing in the gloom lit the path back to my temporary home.

In the distance the occasional snapping branch or rustle of brush began to drive my shattered nerves into slight paranoia. My rifle quickly became slung across my back to keep the revolver near at hand. Thankfully the small cluster of tags noting the blinds location came into view as evening finally came due. The small white dots leading me to an oasis in a desert of insanity. Careful step after step, I slipped through the brambles that seemed to claw and grasp at my clothes and skin in an effort to draw blood. It took a minute or two of fumbling around with the zipper to open the blinds door, but the comfort of something familiar wrapped around me the moment I stepped in. At least in here I could ignore the world around me. In here I could pretend I knew what was going on. Pack and rifle joined the jumble of gear atop the cart before I settled into the camp chair in an attempt to collect my thoughts before drifting off.

Consciousness clawed me back to reality to stare at the inside of the pitch black hunting blind with a pounding heart. Every beat surged in my ears as if trying to draw attention to something. The enveloping black was normally calming, but between the pounding in my ears and some je ne sais quoi turned it into a predatory darkness. Forcing myself to breathe shallowly and smoothly, I sat there in the abyssal darkness and listened to the world around me. The rubber grip on the revolver was calming in its own way when I couldn't see a thing.

There…

Sharp cracks echoed around the small clearing as something broke branches while moving around. Wherever it stepped, raspy breathing followed as if whatever monster was trying to breathe through gravel and water filled lungs. Every few stuttering steps, a death rattle of a breath stabbed itself into the darkness. Every few steps there was a pause as if it was hunting something. Hunting me. Every fiber of my being was possessed by one task that became a mantra repeating in my head.

Breathe slowly. Don’t move, don’t blink, don’t make a sound…

I could hear it scraping at the soft earth just outside the brambles I’d camped within. The wet sound of claws against stone and tree bark just feet away.

Don’t move. Move and you’re dead…

I’d like to say I did something heroic or at least sane, but there was little I could do when the keening wail of the creature pierced the forest. Every muscle in my body went rigid and I couldn’t have screamed if I wanted to as the call went on. The voice of the damned carried on for a moment before the creature turned and ran away from the blind as if the devil itself were chasing it. Mentally, I gave a sigh of relief as the pounding steps carried away from my hiding place. It felt like little more than a place to hide when that...thing was concerned. In the dark and distance, branches snapped and tore once more, all while I sat there in my chair doing my best not to void my bowels.

I sat there like that longer than I’d like to admit. Not moving a muscle, fearing the return of the damned. As eternity passed, I was ever grateful and relieved by the first vestiges of light beginning to fight for a new day. When the dark began to melt and give way to morning dew and crisp light it was finally time to sleep. If only I managed to get some.

Screaming, blood curdling screams of pain and agony tore me to reality. I was half convinced it was just a dream until more of them joined into the chorus. I might not know much about this world, but generally the sound of women screaming is bad in any culture. The rifle was already in hand as I stood and headed for the flap leading to the sun lit woods beyond.

The noises seemed to be coming from the little walled hamlet I had viewed before my “realization.” With that in mind and weapon in hand, every step brought me closer to whatever violence was happening. A quick pace quickly turned into a ground eating stride through the forest as I closed the distance. Dull peals of a bell in the village matched the intensity of the screams and howls from the denizens within as I found myself near where I’d taken cover the previous afternoon. It only took a moment to kneel and lay my rifle across the fallen log before shouldering the firearm, but what I saw would forever be seared into my mind.

Through the bouncing crosshairs, I could see two figures chasing a pony through the freshly plowed field while a trio fought tooth and nail against the small cluster of ponies attempting to hold the village gate. That is when I noticed it. On a hurried glance, I wouldn’t have seen it, but the pallor, the stride, hell the entire composition of the “people” was wrong. Before I even knew what was going on, a decision had been made.

Shifting my weight, I pushed into the rifle while turning it slightly. Through the magnified optic, it all became clear as the crosshair settled onto the first “human.” Ashen grey skin and dark bulging veins crossed its bare torso where several gashes weeped a black ichor. Thankfully the pony was running straight toward me without knowing it. Without thought, my thumb slid the safety forward and a heartbeat later the trigger broke.

I never heard the shot, but the pony certainly did and managed to trip on the freshly turned earth and tumble. Thankfully, the first creature pitched forward as the bullet tore through its chest in a burst of viscous blood before it could reach the pony. The second one was much quicker and was on the poor animal biting and clawing before I finished cycling my rifle. Gleaming brass rolled down the log next to me as I did my best to center the thrashing human in my scope. Knowing there was no way I could guarantee anything, the moment the crosshairs slid over the chest of the former human, the rifle bucked again. Truthfully, I have no idea where the round went, but when the creature fell atop the pony without moving, I called it a win.

That is when I remembered the other humans. Panicking, I looked up from the scope to find them and didn’t like what I saw at all. There was a crumpled figure near the town gate, but the remaining humans were charging my way with the ponies in pursuit. Three more times the rifle rocked against me. Two ragged wounds appeared on the leading human that had no signs of stopping. Reloading would be suicidal at this point, so the only other sane option was to run.

The same path as before, the same steps as before, just ever so much more important with the trees whipping around me. Ducking outstretched branches and dodging trunks as panic began to take hold, I ran and ran. There was no way to see the creatures behind me, but the noises they made kept me very aware of their presence. Howls of rage and hunger drove me on and through the brambles by the hide. A heartbeat later, the rifle slipped out of my fingers and onto the cart while the soft rubber grip of an axe filled my other. Back into the light I slipped, leaving the brambles to my back and facing the small trail I had just escaped from. The comforting weight of the axe resting against my thigh did little as I set it down and unholstered my revolver and waited for the bloodshed to come.

I wasn’t kept waiting long as a howl tore through the woods nearby. Instinctively, the revolver came up to my vision with the bright green front sight bouncing in my trembling hands. With the first glance of dull skin, the revolver barked and another burst of ichor issued forth. Every step, every heartbeat the damned thing closed the distance between us. Again and again the magnum roared until there was just a ‘click...click...’

Oh fu…

Pain. Pain everywhere as it hit me and the revolver tumbled out of my grasp and dragged me to the ground while searing agony erupted from my leg. I couldn't even scream under the weight of the creature while I waited for the final blow. It took me a second to realize the human wasn't moving from on top of me, despite the sickly ichor it was leaking across my chest. A second longer to realize I could roll the hopefully dead weight off and away from me.

Up close, I wasn’t even sure if the things could be qualified as human anymore. Every vein was visible in its skin as they bulged with twisted fluids that weeped from every orifice I could see. They even cried thick black tears from bloodshot eyes. Clammy skin filled both hands as I shoved the shattered corpse away and tried to gain a semblance of footing before falling to my face again. Looking down at my leg there was one thing impossibly wrong. The edge of my axe had sliced neatly into my calf to let a steady stream of blood drip through my now blood sodden pants.

First aid kit in the blind. You can get to it before the other thing shows up or you bleed out.

Hissing with the pain, I dragged the axe over to me and used it as a crutch as I stood. Agonizing steps seemed to take forever as I worked toward shelter, only stopping to pick up the revolver and jam it back into its holster. Thankfully I was oblivious to the brambles and thorns in the brush, and was getting near my pack. The howls of the other human were getting close, as was the clashing of steel on steel that was a safe assumption of pony armor.

Stop the blood flow and wrap it. Worry about sterile stuff after you don’t die.”

From the first side pocket of my backpack I grabbed two things. The first was a sealed white pouch and the second was a lumpy black one. Thankfully the plastic gave way with a good tug to reveal a hard bundle of gauze. After folding it in half, I did what I was dreading. The colors swam in my vision while I fought to keep from dry heaving when I pushed the fabric into the wide slit in my leg. Breathing hard and gagging, the worst was over at least. The second pouch revealed a bundle of fabric with long leads and a plastic toggle. That was quickly wrapped around the side of my leg over the gash and then the leads looped through the plastic. A quick twist, loop again, and twist tied it firmly over the slowly bleeding wound just in time for a dull thump to sound outside along with panting and soft voices.

“That’s the last of the tartarus damned things.”

“What about the other human we saw running away from the infected? There is a lot of blood out here. Maybe that one is still here.”

Oh damn…

The soft rattle of armor and scraping of thorns against it was all the warning I had before the flap of the hide was torn open to reveal two heavily armored ponies. It is kind of hilarious when you consider the stuff you see before passing out. I would have sworn one of them had a horn and a crossbow floating alongside them. They didn’t seem too impressed as I halfassedly gestured at them before the darkness took me.

06. Stone and Steel

In the past week, Princess Luna had been more apprehensive than normal during her duties at night. The dreams of her subjects were not something to be trifled with, yet there were more nightmares than most to dispel. At first, it was small nightmares among two foals that caught her attention as even the smallest fear was a monster for a child. An evening later the nightmares began to spread. Some were small and easily quashed under her well trained hooves. Others were not so mutable to her will. Worried and frenzied nightmares of a mare that feared for her stallion's health and sanity. Other parents that were terrified by the increase in infected human attacks soon joined later that night. It was then that Luna came to a startling realization.

The small cluster of nightmares seemed to be centered around a small village near Hollow Shades. As strange as the name was, Petrichor was somewhat fitting for the hamlet of only sixty three ponies. When she had heard the name at first, Luna had to inquire as to what it meant. In the end, it was fitting that a town that received little rain was named as such. Petrichor was the scent of fresh rain on dry soil. Odd that a group of ponies would choose an arid clearing to farm, but Equestria was full of curiosities since Luna's return from the moon. Most perplexing was the domestication of wild humans into pets and labor stock country wide. There was nary a filly that didn't own a human or knew a pony who did.

It was the fear of infected humans with the chaos and terror they bring that prompted the Princess to order a small contingent of her guard to Petrichor. Providence it seemed that the soldiers had arrived the same day as an infected attack. The initial reports of the attack were strange to say the least. It had started simply, like most infected attacks did. The cloister bells were rung and the guard attempted to seal the village while saving the foals they could. Two of the infected chasing foals were struck down by an invisible assailant, before several of the humans charged into the forest. From there it was easy cleanup until the guards found "him."

Over the years since her return, Luna had seen all sorts of interesting and strange things involving humans. According to the report, this one fought the infected hand to hand before falling unconscious from his wounds. What made it strange was the equipment and machines of unknown origin that were with and on the human. Intelligent humans were considered a state secret, but they had been recorded before. Some ponies believed there was a conclave of advanced humans living under the Everfree forest. This male could be the link that they needed to find those groups. When the flayed skin of the missing stallion was found in the Human's posession, Luna placed a gag order on the town about the attack. Naturally she assured the populace that their concerns and town will be well compensated for the trouble. The mare and children of the deceased pony were taken care of as well. All that remained was waiting for the now sedated human to be brought to Canterlot, brought to her. Anxiously, she awaited news of the chariots carrying the now secret cargo and the creature within. If found to be an asset like other intelligent humans, it could be redeemed. If not, it would be put to the blade immediately for the safety of her ponies. At this point, the latter looked the most likely.

Cold woke me. Deep, bone weary cold. At first my eyes refused to work, seeing nothing in the dim light. I could tell I was sitting upright with a rough wall against my back, along with something cold and firm clasped around my neck and wrists. Only one thing came to mind at the moment.

What the fuck happened?

As I became accustomed to the shadows that surrounded me, more detail began to come from the black. Dull stone walls surrounded me on all sides, only interrupted by the pile of straw I was sitting on. The theory about my wrists looked right considering every movement rattled a chain and scraped metal against stone. That's when it hit me.

Oh shit. The armored ponies...

I wish I had thought of something better than that, but any other thoughts went out the window as flickering light flooded into my cell. A door at the opposite end of the room was pushed open to reveal three washed out figures, all ponies.

Fuck my life.

"On your feet human."

Shakily, I inched to my now apparently bare feet and realized that other than underwear I was disrobed. Scratchy straw dug at my feet when standing. Oddly enough my leg didn't hurt at all, but I couldn't see it well enough to be able to tell what happened to it. Under any other situation, the soft "clop" the pony hooves made could have been cute or amusing. When they are walking into your prison cell, things take on a more serious note when they draw blades and point them at you. The feel of cool steel against my throat was plenty enough to keep me from moving while the other two disconnected the chain from the wall before relinking it to what looked like a leash of sorts. Definitely not confident about this change of situation.

It really didn't matter as the lead pony grasped the chain and began hobbling me toward the light. Flickering torches revealed the trio to be some kind of strange pony. Grey fur, gold lizard like eyes, and grey membranous wings adorned them under muted plate armor. The moment I shied away from the group, the lead guard pulled sharply on the chain. You can't really describe the pain that causes. Hot, sharp, cold, all at the same time. Apparently the collar wasn't just that. Something more akin to a spiked choke collar for dogs came to mind while I choked and was dragged down the hall. After a few feet, I managed to catch up enough to take the slack off the chain.

The hallway was something you'd expect to see in a movie or reenactment of some kind really. Hewn stone walls and floors only sparsely decorated with the occasional wall sconce holding a guttering torch was all I could see in either direction. Step by chilly step, the walls passed while I tried only not to get choked by the obviously angry guards. Thankfully I was smart enough to realize that trying to run would end up with me getting choked to death or stabbed, so onward into oblivion was the best and only plan. Further we traveled, more light began to fill the tunnel until we arrived at a massive door. Solid wood timbers were banded with straps of iron the width of my hand. The entire monster door was inset in an iron and stone archway, yet opened silently as if it were well greased.

With a shove, the guards launched me into the room only to land on a soft carpet. From my hands and knees, my view was limited but surprising. Arrayed around me was all of my meager possessions in this insane world. In the center of the room was a large wood and iron chair with shackles on it. That thing filled me fear. I remembered my medieval history after all. Everything else disappeared when SHE stepped out of the shadows. Dark blue fur, huge wings pressed against her side, a massive horn, but most of all was her eyes. They were dark and light at the same time. A deep blue, yet pitch black like the abyss inside a dying star.

The guards took that moment to pull on the chain, dragging me bodily across the carpet toward the small bit of stone the chair rested on. The rough fabric burned my hands and knees as I fought, thrashed, growled, and tried to get away. Yet the guards pulled and dragged until the unforgiving stone pressed against my feet. A shove brought my back against bare wood, and warmth dripped down my legs. A leg crossed my vision, and I did the first thing that instinct told me to do while they locked my wrists down against the iron and oak. I bit. With every ounce of fear, terror, and revulsion in me, I bit the blue leg that was in front of me a moment before sharp pain exploded across my skull and the black claimed me again.

07. The Void

When I was younger, I always enjoyed the sensation of falling. Moreso was the complete sense of freedom that came with it. Awaking in what appeared to be little more than oblivion quickly soured my stomach. I could move freely, but no matter how I contorted it felt as if I was falling and floating gently on a river. Oddly disturbing is the only way to put it really. As far as I could see there was nothing but shadow. Occasionally a small flash of colored light would strobe in the distance, but nothing more. Now when I say shadow, I mean just that. It wasn't pitch black like the middle of the night, more of late evening in an empty room almost.

It would have been bearable if there was sound of some kind. Even trying to speak, I could hear the vibrations in my throat yet not a sound reached my ears.

Where the fuck am I?

So I floated there for what seemed like an eternity and hoped for something to change. It could have been seconds or years and I couldn't have been able to tell. The small specks of light were starting to flare brighter in the distance. They were almost swirling and moving like a school of fish in their odd patterns. In the span of a heartbeat the lights went to dim in the distance to swirls of blinding blue light coming at me. Thrashing and trying to swim got me nowhere as the lights came closer and closer, always following. It was all I could do to curl up in a ball before it hit, every instinct in my body screaming that I was going to die. Huddled in my ball of fear, the light was blinding. It seeped between my fingers, into my closed eyes, through me. The accursed light was going to burn away everything I knew, everything I was, I just knew it.

Time was useless in this place, but after some time I opened my eyes. I hadn't died or been immolated by something in his hellish realm. Instead, something far stranger had happened. A sphere of the same darkness surrounded me with the harsh light crawling over it like a hive of angry bees, hungry for my flesh. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears with a rapid 'thump thump thump' while hell circled me, hungry for what remained of my sanity. Every passing moment, more of the light built around whatever protected me. Small glowing blue cracks began to form across the dim surface, spreading with every orb of light that crawled across the surface. That is when I noticed part of the sphere caving in. Before I could scream, the barrier disappeared and light flooded into every corner of my being.

Color, sensation, reality spilled over me as my eyes snapped open to reveal the abomination that ordered me to the chair. Blue energy swirled around her horn and across both our bodies. The very same color that chased me into a corner of my personal hell. Lunging against my restraints, I tried to get her, make her stop.

"What the hell you crazy bitch?!"

The energies dissipated with a loud pop and swirl of color, while her eyes widened in surprise. It was a strange to see such a large animal shying away from me for a moment before her eyes hardened to a glare.

Wait...what? Since when can I talk again? Also why is her eye twitching like that?

It was my turn to press into the chair and get away from IT when the beast suddenly was in my face, muzzle jammed tight against my nose as it...she... inspected me with an insane look in her eyes. That was before she tried to rupture my eardrums.

"HUZZAH! We told Twilight Sparkle there were other intelligent humans, but she did not believe us! We will see who is the female diamond dog by the end of our conversation however. We doubt it shall be ourselves."

"Now human, if you value your life you will converse with us and answer our many questions."

Fuck me running...

08. Questions

Well this is going to be interesting.

"Since we are assured of your ability to speak, I do advise you to explain yourself. The situation you were captured in is rather incriminating. Consider this your only chance to defend yourself on the matter of Juniper Berry's death."

It really is hard to describe a look of disgust on a horse, especially a talking one that is gesturing at a small square of colored fur and skin on the nearby table. Thankfully it looked like they hadn't palmed...er... hoofed through my stuff too much. Sighing softly and looking at the grey stone floor, I said the only thing I could.

"I didn't know you ponies could talk. I didn't even have an idea until I heard other things talking as well. It didn't even hit home until I was watching that village and seeing the kids playing. I... I got sick after that."

The soft clop of steps on stone neared until silver shod hooves entered my vision and she spoke much softer than I expected.

"You truly had no idea?"

I couldn't even lean away when she raised a hoof to my face to make me look up. I don't know what she saw, but the concern on her face was evident before she looked away.

"Guards, return the human to his cell and make sure he is fed and watered. I have much to consider, so we'll continue this tomorrow."

So began my stay in the dungeons.

My life was one of excitement for the first few days. Crappy food and grabbing little sleep on what passed for a "bed" that was provided for me became the norm. Several times through the day, Princess Luna as I came to know her, would have me returned to the questioning chamber. Each time, she'd ask the same questions about the pony and my arrival. Sometimes there would be a small change of wordings to trip me up or flat out blunt questions. She never seemed satisfied by my answer to "do you feel remorse over the murder of Juniper Berry?" That never changed since the answer was a simple no. Remorse for doing what I thought was needed to survive is a bad thing. Regret for killing what turned out to be a "person" of sorts, yes. So the days and questions started to blend together.

Today it seemed would be different. There was a hard boiled egg included with my so called "breakfast" of oatmeal and the guard didn't toss the tray on the floor like normal. The gruel was tasteless paste that I did my best to ignore while the guard stood imposingly silent in the open doorway. I'd already learned my lesson about trying to get past the guards. For such a small creature, they can hit insanely hard when they want to. Only one try was plenty enough for me as my stomach was still bruised from it. The Princess was much worse, truth be told. On the third day I was left unchained in the room with her, so I bolted toward the table with my gear on it. Apparently "magic" is a real thing here, since I was bodily thrown across the room after hitting a transparent blue wall. She didn't even have to touch me, and I still have bloody scrapes from that. At least I was smart enough not to attack one of the guards or the princess. Pretty sure I'd have ended up pinned to the wall by several spears at that point.

So yeah, I behaved and answered the questions as they were asked. Escaping was still on my mind, don't get me wrong. I had just learned lessons I didn't want to repeat. Gently, I set the wooden tray onto the floor and stood in the dark room. The only light came from the hallway and the flickering torches within. Not bothering to say a word, I stood and followed the guard toward the now very familiar "interview" room. The final two guards slipped behind me as the dim hallways pulled us away. Behaving meant no chains, so I behaved.

The large door was still imposing after several weeks, as was the large alicorn princess that stood in the chamber beyond. Same as every time before, the lead guard would step into the room in front of me while the pair behind flanked the door.

"I've brought you the prisoner as requested ma'am."

"Thank you guard. Please resume your post outside, Alex and I need to have a private conversation. Alex, please have a seat."

I wish I could say that sitting in that wooden chair had become routine at this point, but I'd be lying. Every time it filled me with apprehension and general nervousness. Then again, it could have been the fact I was stuck alone in a room with the creature I'd found out that has enough power to move the freaking moon.

"Alex, I have been doing much research on our unique situation. I firmly believe you did not know about my ponies when you arrived here. Generally for murder the punishment is death or banishment. In your case, we have no idea how you arrived here so banishment to your world is out. Death would be wasting an opportunity for me to help my ponies as well."

Well fuck.

"So I have a proposal for you. I'm going to give you a chance at redemption for your crime. You are going to serve as my servant until such time as I believe you have earned a pardon. There are some stipulations though."

I'm pretty sure she saw the confusion on my face and decided to shatter my hopes expertly.

"You will be marked on your left hand as a direct servant of my royal house. This will keep the nobles from getting any ideas about 'taking the new human out for a spin' as the phrase goes. The marking will be applied by myself and will allow me to know your whereabouts at all times. Secondly, you will be wearing an enchanted torc for now, as common humans cannot talk. When removed by myself or the guards assigned to you, the ability to speak will return. When you are declared trustworthy, it will be removed. Your choice is simple. Serve and earn redemption or spend the rest of your days in a cell."

It wasn't a choice really. Then again it felt odd to have a horse dangling a carrot in my face. A moment of contemplation later, there was only one answer.

09. Lesson Zero

You know, I spent a good few minutes considering all of my options. Somehow I figured spitting at the royal that literally had my life in her hands...er... hooves would be a bad idea. The more I thought about it, the fewer options remained. In the end it boiled down to simply spending the rest of my probably short life in a cell or potentially gaining my freedom. If there was anyone nearby they might have called me a coward for it, but an old adage came to mind. It is easier to die for your beliefs than to live for them. Well that and 'ignorance of the law is no excuse.'

"I'll serve."

I'm not entirely sure what the mixture of emotions that crossed her face was, but she generally seemed pleased but serious as she approached. Every hoofstep echoing ominously as she neared where I was sitting before she pausing in consideration.

"You may wish to take a deep breath."

Wha...

Blue light filled my vision, bleaching out all other colors with searing brightness while my skin started to crawl. Like a thousand fire ants, the sensation quickly bloomed from an irritating itch and into searing heat in a heartbeat before I could scream. Thankfully darkness consumed me before the flames.

Cold. The chill of cold stone dragged me back to consciousness slowly. The rough grey surface of a stone floor stretched out in front of me, ending in the silver shod hooves of Princess Luna. Oddly enough, she had what I considered a look of concern on her face. Considering my head felt like it was used as a drum by a dozen two year olds, I imagine I didn't look to well myself.

"Apologies Alex. It seemed like your body did not welcome our magics so we pushed slightly harder than intended. Beyond soreness and headache are you well?

All I could manage was groan while dragging myself back into the chair I'd come to dislike so much. I'd swear there was the sound of something rattling loose in my head when I nodded softly.

"The headache should disappear over the next few hours and the pain should not last much longer than that. I have requested the guards bring a small meal for you while I explain your new found position. I shall return in a few moments, it would please me if you did not move from that chair."

No acknowledgement or anything, she just turned and headed toward the door behind me. Closing my eyes made the pounding within my head quiet slightly while I listed to her hoofsteps vanish down the hall. When it was a safe bet that I was alone, I tried to stand. Keyword was try. The texture and grain of the rough hewn wood pressed against my hands as I internally screamed at my body to obey. No matter what I did, my butt wouldn't lift off the chair. The harder I pushed, pressure built around my left wrist and hand until it started to burn. That's when I decided to sit, and the sensation vanished.

"That was lesson number one Alex."

I couldn't even jump out of the chair as Luna's voice came from directly behind the chair, only able to look around wildly.

"It is a simple enough lesson really. If I were to ask something of you, it gets done with few exceptions. It is not something that I will use often as I prefer not to have you as a slave. There may be some times that I require something of you, and you will follow my request to the letter. When I am comfortable with your abilities and you have earned my trust the vast majority of the compulsion will be removed. Your repast has arrived however, so please eat. Afterwards you'll be returned to your cell. In the morning we'll discuss your new living arrangements and where your life will go from here."

With that, two guards that I had no idea were in the room set a tray in front of me with a small array of covered plates. After the garbage I had been fed in the dungeons, whatever was under the domed covers smelled like ambrosia. I could barely hear Princess Luna speaking as the meal was revealed in its glory. Protein, meat, eggs, toast, everything I'd missed so much over the last few weeks. Reaching for the nearest dish, her words rang in my mind.

"Enjoy your meal Alex. I look forward to working with you and it would please me if you retired to your cell after eating and rested well for the morrow."

The next morning came far too early, yet I was oddly well rested for the first time in too long. It might have been that I was provided with a thick straw padded mattress that was the first 'soft' thing I'd slept on in at least a week and change. Thankfully the pounding in my head had largely dissipated as well. The only pain was little more than the occasional bit of tenderness across my left arm. In the dim light, I'd swear there was a pattern on my skin but it could have just been the all encompassing fleshy pink that spread after the princess' ministrations.

This is going to take some getting used to.

So I sat there in the gloom, on my scratchy mattress and leaning against the grey stone walls and waited. My mind wandered over the last few days playing the 'what if' game. What if I hadn't killed that pony. Would I have been accepted or taken as a pet? Could I have managed to survive in the forest if I hadn't gotten caught? The kind of questions and thoughts that lead nowhere useful and were as dark as the room that housed me. My reverie was broken with the dull squeal of the cell door being pushed open and spreading a mixture of light and shadow across my cell. As best as I could tell it was the same guard from before carrying a small tray.

"I know you can understand me prisoner. Do not speak to anypony until you are in Princess Luna's presence. Here is your breakfast, eat it quickly. Afterward I am to show you to her. The first day of your new life awaits."

Oddly enough, the guard's hoofsteps were almost muted across the stone floor. What grabbed my attention most was the pair of membranous wings that were sprouting from the pony's back. I could get yellow eyes and even the strange fangs, but bat wings on a mini horse just looked odd poking out from dark armor. Then again, kind of in technicolor pony hell. Hell that had apparently brought me some kind of porridge and fresh bread from the smell of the tray.

You never realize how much you miss hot food until going without. The moment the tray was set down, I forgot the guard. It might have been prison food but my first real heated meal in days was divine none the less. In what seemed like the span of a few heartbeats the gruel and coarse bread in front of me vanished, only to reveal a guard tapping their hoof on the floor impatiently.

Jesus, I'm coming. Hold your damn horses. HA! Horses. Fuck I'm retarded some days. Thank god they can't read minds.

I can honestly say I'd never seen a hor... pony wince before, but from all the cracks and pops I made getting up I'd assume it wasn't something pleasant to consider on their end. As I followed the guard out of my cell and down the ever present dreary hallway full of echoing hoofsteps and flickering torches, a feeling of dread started to build.

What if Princess Luna has something fucked up planned. I could have really screwed up with all this. Too late now I guess. It'll be interesting and I can freak the fuck out later.

The same room, the same chair, and all of my possessions were arrayed in the same places as I stepped into the room. The door shut ominously with a dull thud while I was taking a seat like a good student. Luna was waiting for me the moment I stepped into the room and looked almost eager. That only doubled the discomfort in my mind.

"Good morning Alex, I hope you slept well."

"Morning Princess Luna. Um, should I call you Mistress, or anything else? This is all kind of new to me."

Yup, voice still sounds like I was gargling with razor blades. Yay.

She looked at me quizzically for a moment before chuckling softly.

"Mistress? Heavens no. Princess is fine. Eventually you may be allowed to call me Luna if you serve well. Mistress is something you'll never call me, our relationship will never be... that. I've taken the liberty to prepare a rough schedule to cover the next few weeks for you. Today we'll be discussing your property and its disposition before being placed in proper servants quarters. Starting tomorrow you will be learning the proper etiquette and expectations from my personal steward and guards. Only the guards will know a bit of your nature, so you will begin wearing the enchanted torq this evening. Speaking of which, I need to make a note to fill you in on the local humans and things to be aware of..."