Chapters Imagination
Prologue
Imagination.... What is imagination? It is the gift to imagine things that are more wonderful than reality could ever be. Those of us who are gifted with it, are inventive and some of us can use that gift to entertain others. We can take those people to worlds beyond their wildest... imaginations.
There are those who put their gift to use for money, while others only want to entertain. For the latter the greatest satisfaction is, if someone loves what they have created, while the former only care for how much cash is on their bank account at the end of the month.
Me? I was one of the latter, doing what I did solely to entertain others. The very idea of writing has always thrilled me, even though I never had the guts to actually let others read what I wrote. It was enough for me to know that, somewhere out there, there might be someone who would enjoy my work.
That was until I joined one particular fandom. A fandom that was all about love and tolerance. A friend had gotten me into it, and I couldn't thank that friend enough, for it was her who encouraged me to publish what I wrote in the form of a fanfiction.
I may say I can't thank her enough, yet I also curse her for what she brought upon me. Never, even in my wildest dreams, would I have imagined what would happen to me. My life got completely turned upside down.
Authors... We imagine things and weave our thoughts into words. We give birth to many characters and we kill them when we think that their time has come, or we just want to get rid of them... In short, we are playing god. But what harm can it do? They are only fictional characters, right?
And that is where we are wrong. “I think, so I am.”, as the saying goes. But what do we do when we write about one of our very own characters? We try to imagine how that characters may think, and how they might interact with others. We put them through hardships and relationships, always projecting a part of our own thoughts into them... So.... would it be so crazy to think that they are actually alive in a way? Animated by our own thoughts?
My name is Zeomak Seline Salchar, and this is my story about how I learned that my creations may not be so fictional after all....
Imaginations
Chapter 1
Moonsinger
As so many times before, I sat in the kitchen of the house I shared with my father and grandfather, brooding over one of my stories. This time however, was different. I had no idea of how to make it end in a manner that would please my readers. I had everything planned out, yet the end I had already written did not fit in with the events I had squeezed into the story... A problem I had never had before, since I never had an audience before.
After a while I decided to call it a day, and sleep over it. My father only had an amused smile for my attempts at writing, and wasn't much of a help either. In the end I powered down my laptop, went upstairs with it and placed it on my desk. The very idea of a writers block had never been a problem before. I refused to let it beat me... Yet it just had. So instead of wracking my brain I went to bed...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I found myself in a dense forest. The trees were twisted and looked wrong. On more then one occasion did I think that they were looking at me. It may sound cowardly, but I have never been very brave.
I began to run. The trees seemed to part for me as I passed, but a nagging sensation crept up in my mind. A sensation of utter fear. It was as if something was hunting me. Something that I couldn't see in the darkness of the night. That the canopy of the trees blocked out most of the full moons light didn't help one bit.
A howl rang through the night. A sound that reminded me that I was unarmed, not very brave and alone, not to mention probably tasty. To my horror, my years of smoking and my overweight caught up with me. A stitch in my side made me realize that I would not be able to go on for much longer.
I had to hide. Hide... somewhere! Maybe I could climb up one of the trees? No that was definitely out of the question. I had done it many times in my youth, but that had been long before the many little accidents, that had practically bound me to a bed for months. Not to mention long before I had started to smoke...
My fear heightened my senses. Something that was more distracting then helpful at that moment. I could hear something behind me. Something with more then two legs by the sound of it. Adding that to the howl earlier, I deduced that it had to be some kind of wolf or feral dog. Sad thing was that I had a mortal fear of both, which only made my heart hammer even harder in my chest.
Stumbling, I came upon a small clearing in the forest. The moonlight illuminated the field of white flowers before me, and for a moment I completely forgot why I had been running in the first place. Sweat was running down my face, my throat felt dry and my heart was pounding in my chest so hard, that it felt as if someone was hitting me with a sledgehammer from the inside.
Then it was on me... A four legged creature pounced on me from behind, knocking me flat on my face. It's claws dug deep into my right shoulder, drawing blood. My white Twilight Sparkle T-Shirt became stained red, and I felt it's foul breath on my neck. I knew that I was done for, but I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to become a midnight snack for whatever creature this was. There were so many things that I still wanted to do in my life. For one thing, I still had that story to finish... Breathing in as deep as my smoke damaged lungs would allow, I screamed into the night. I knew that there was virtually no chance that anyone would come to help me, but I had to try.
“HELP! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP ME! FOR THE LOVE OF LUNA!”, I screamed, tears of pain, embarrassment and fear flowing down my face. Why I had called out the name of the imaginary Princess of the night? I had absolutely no idea. It just felt like the right thing to do.
Suddenly, a shadow flashed over me. I couldn't see what it was, since my face was still half buried in the dirt, but it knocked the predator right off of me. Instantly I scrambled forwards on all fours, before looking back. Whoever had helped me, might need my help and while I might not be very brave, I wouldn't let another die for me. What I saw, lying on my back, bleeding from my shoulder, and utterly exhausted, was too much for me at that moment.
A light brown horse was fighting a huge wolf that was.... made of wood? It's eyes glowed in a light green as it snapped at the horse, trying to take it's head off. The horse on it's part darted from side to side, evading each attack with what seemed like practiced ease. From time to time it brought down it's hooves on the predators head, whenever there was no opportunity for it to counter the attack fast enough. What baffled me even more however... were the horn and the wings this horse possessed, in combination with a crescent moon on it's flank.
Her horn flashed and a stream of silvery energy seemed to emanate from her horn, hitting the wolf-thingy head on. It gave a small whimper, then finally fled back into the forest. The Pony (Yes I realized it was not a horse at that point), rustled her feathers and turned towards me, a scowl on her face. Her green eyes locked onto my brown ones, rooting me to the spot.
As she stood in front of me, her beautiful silhouette illuminated by the moonlight, she tilted her head curiously. I felt a little dizzy as I lost more and more of my blood, but I just couldn't bring myself to look away. I knew this Pony... She was the reason why I had such a problem with the story I was writing. Her life or death would decide everything, and I knew that I had to kill her off in my story, but I had grown too attached to her to just do that.
“What are you?”, she finally asked in that raspy voice that I had only imagined so far. To my eternal shame, I fainted right then and there.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As I woke up again, I lay in a bed. Definitely not my bed though. It was way too small for my 184 centimeters, and I was pretty sure that my bed didn't groan that much when I moved around. I felt bandages that were wrapped around my right shoulder and upper body. The air smelled strange, but nothing I was not used to. Having grown up on a farm, I new the smell of hay and animal sweat only too well.
“Finally awake, are you?”, came that same raspy voice from my right. As I turned my head, I was prepared for the worst.
I had somehow ended up in the alternative universe I had created for my story. But... how was that even possible? Not to mention that I had absolutely no desire to be here right now. If this world was anything like the one I had created, then these Ponies were at war with the Changelings right about now, and I had no intention to participate in that. (Even if it would have made for a pretty cool dream. The pain in my shoulder however had me convinced that it wasn't one.)
I carefully reached out a hand to touch her, just to make sure that I hadn't gone crazy. She didn't shrink back, but she wasn't comfortable with it either. That much I could see on her face. (Don't ask me how I was able to interpret a Ponies expression, I just could somehow.) Her coat was soft and wonderful, like freshly weaved silk. I could feel her strong muscles twitch under her coat as I brushed against it.
“Moonsinger, adopted daughter of Princess Luna. Became an Alicorn out of necessity. Special talent: Controlling the very light of the moon to stomp everything in her vicinity. Talent is activated through instinctual singing.”, I rattled down some of the notes I had on her. That made her face darken a bit.
“How do you know that? Only mother knows what my special talent is, and she would never tell anypony!”, she growled, stepping out of my reach. “And what in the name of the moon are you? I have never seen a creature like you, not even in Everfree!”
I sighed. It may sound crazy on so many levels, and I still didn't know how I had ended up here, but I had written her. I had created her, and I knew that she would see through any lie I would throw at her. Being honest was my best bet. She listened quietly as I explained everything to her. How I was the author of a story, in which she was playing a major role. I told her that I had wracked my brains about all the events that I wanted in the story, and how to write them. I even told her outright what she had thought and felt when she had become an Alicorn.
For a long, awkward, while there was only silence in the room. Finally she broke it with a downcast look on her face.
“I don't know why, but there is something about you, that tells me you are telling the truth. Still it's hard to believe that I am supposed to be a product of your imagination.... I mean... I feel, think and... and I decide for myself... You telling me that I am not real... just doesn't seem right, but at the same time I know that it is.”, she said barely above a whisper.
“Yeah...It's crazy. I have thought so much about you recently, and now look at you. Here you are, having saved my life and you are so beautiful. Just as I imagined you...”, I laughed, but then I remembered why I had been thinking about her so much. Something on my face must have shown my concern, since she suddenly put a hoof on my shoulder.
“Why? Why did you think so hard about me? I may not be the best when it comes to magic, but I can see that something is troubling you.”
“I... I don't want to talk about it... I have really grown close to your character and... DAMNIT! I'm deciding to kill you off or not... It's needed for the conclusion of the story, but I don't want to! You were a character I wrote for this one purpose! To die at the end! To give Luna the strength to cast her doubts aside and kill Chrysalis! But I can't... I just can't... Especially now that I have actually met you!”, I all but screamed at her, jumping out of bed.
Moonsinger took it all in silently, only her shivering wings showing any sign of her discomfort.
“I don't want to die.”, she said in a small voice that shook me to the core. As I turned to look at her, I saw tears running down her face, but there was also a little smile there.
“But if I have to... If I have to die in order to give mother the strength to end all this... then I guess I will have to.”, she added, looking out of the small window of the room. There was no hesitation in her words, no false bravado. She really wanted to do anything to help Luna through this.
“But I....”, I began, only for her to turn her face towards me with a glare that would have silenced much braver men.
“No buts. You created me for this one purpose. You said it yourself. I'm not happy about it, but if what you say is true then this is my destiny. If that is what's needed to win this war, then I will happily throw myself into battle. Mother is hurting way too much. She may not show it, but I know that she is torn inside. So many of us have already died, and it's your fault! Don't sully their legacy by changing the end now. Don't make their sacrifices meaningless!”, she shouted at me, standing up and knocking me to the ground with a foreleg. She now stood above me, one foreleg on my chest and her muzzle only inches from my face.
“Don't... Please... Moonsinger I....”, I stammered, but she just shook her head.
“Finish our tale, and do not change my role in it. That is all I ask of you. You owe your life to me. Pay me back by granting me this little wish.”
With a heavy heart I nodded, prompting her to smile. She plucked one of her feathers out of her left wing, and placed it on my open right hand.
“And don't forget about me, will you?”, she said as the world around me blurred out of existence. A moment later I sat upright in my own bed, sweating profusely. At first I thought it had all been a dream, but then I looked down on my right hand. In it I was holding a light brown feather. My injuries were gone, but this one feather convinced me...
With tears in my eyes I stood up, turned on my laptop and began to type..... Two hours later I had written the finale of my story, including Moonsingers death scene... I felt as if she was whispering into my ear when I saved the file.
“Thank you.”
Imagination
Chapter 2
Lonely Doctor Whooves
It was terrible. I was sitting on the balcony, my notebook on my lap, and had just written the end of one of my stories. It had been so nice and epic when I had thought it up, but now that I saw it on paper, I couldn't help myself but think that this was the worst thing I had ever written. So many things were missing, so many mysteries left unsolved. Could I simply trash it and rewrite the whole thing? So far nobody had seen it after all. I was the only one who knew about this horrible work of mine....
But then again... I had worked on it for hours on end, and I really wanted to finish the story. It had begun as a proof of concept. I wanted to prove that writing a ten minute script didn't take a month. For that reason I had chosen the idea of a crossover between Doctor Who and My little Pony in the first place...
For the last few months though, it had become tedious. I had to come up with one plot twist after another, had to write so many dialogues... It just wasn't fun anymore. Sighing, I took my notebook and got to work, releasing this final chapter on You-tube. I knew that some people would not like it, and some might even demand my head on a silver plate, but at this point I just wanted to get it over with.
About half an hour later I had it all recorded and uploaded to my channel. I just wanted to roll myself a cigarette and take a break for a while. Maybe play some World of Warcraft? That would have been nice. My Death Knight still needed some gear that I.....
A strange sound came from behind me. It was familiar, and yet totally alien to me. All the stuff that was lying around in my room started to fly about, in a strong wind that had suddenly picked up. When I tried to turn around, I got hit in the face by my old Optimus Prime toy (Some remnant of my childhood.) and everything went dark around me...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As I came too, I heard a sound that kind of reminded me of a machine that desperately needed some oil. Opening my eyes revealed that I was in a dome shaped room and was actually lying on a metal catwalk. In front of me stood... a Pony. A Pony wearing a tattered tuxedo. I face-palmed, thinking back to my experience with Moonsinger. As it turned out, it was not a good idea to hit myself in the face, when a particular plastic toy had done that only minutes before. My head started to hurt instantly, and I cursed my own stupidity under my breath.
The Pony in front of me, whom I immediately identified as my version of Doctor Whooves, whirled on me, an almost crazy grin splitting his muzzle. I could see that his eyes were bloodshot and he looked even more disheveled than when I had ended my story. His blue eyes were locked on mine as the grin disappeared.
I may have said it before, but I will say it again. I am not a very brave man. Seeing this Pony, whom I had created, look at me in utter fury, almost made my heart stop. Aside from the fact that I still had no idea how this was even possible, I feared he might throw me into a supernova or something.
“Bring her back.”, he finally said, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.
“Bring who... oh!”, it dawned on me. I had just written that final chapter too, so how could it be that it had actually taken me this long to figure out why he was angry with me?
Octavia Melody. I had no attachments to that character, other then I thought that she was kind of cool. That had been the (only) reason why I had chosen her as my Doctors companion, on a quest to save not only Equestria, but all of creation. At that moment I really wished I had made him more of a pacifist.... There was one question that had to be answered however, and I was determined to ask it before I got thrown into a supernova, abandoned on a hostile planet or brought to the Darleks for experimentation.
“How the heck did you even know I was the one who did it?”, I asked, pushing the brown Earthpony away a bit so I could stand up.
“Oh don't play dumb with me. Your dimensional harmony was all over the place. It was all a matter of isolating the little disturbances in Equestrias time-stream, analyze them and come here. Took me almost a year to find a way into your reality!”
I was stunned. I loved Doctor Who. I loved My little Pony. I had created an adaption of those two of my very own, and that very character had now come for me. I already knew that the end I had written for him was maybe the worst thing I had ever written, but I was done with him. He was a short lived annoyance. Something I had hoped to be rid of forever. Yet it seemed that he had other plans.
“Look, I have already published the ending of your story, and I don't plan to get back to it. Besides, Octavia is not dead nor is she locked in time somewhere. She's probably holding that concert for the Princess right about now. So why don't you just go and talk to her about it?”, I asked, my tone a little annoyed due to my headache.
He slumped, shaking his head as if I was some kid that didn't know the first thing about life.
“Don't you understand? Her avatar may hold that concert, but it's not really her. I want her to travel with me. I wanted to show her the wonders of the universe. A universe that I myself have not explored yet. But her avatar can't come with me, and her real body is trapped inside of that tree. So do something about it.... I beg you.... She doesn't deserve to be trapped in there for all eternity.”, he begged, new tears forming in his eyes.
I suddenly felt pity for him. Sure, his story had been annoying me for almost six months, and I was gad that I had ended it, but even I was not too happy about the way I had done it. An idea struck me. I wouldn't rewrite the end, nor would I pick up another Doctor Whooves story anytime soon, but there was something else I might be able to do.
I walked over to the TARDIS controls, and set the course for where I needed us to be at that moment. (I just somehow knew how to fly it. In retrospect it was a little freaky, but all that counts is that it worked out in the end.)
It took me some effort to drag a sulking, and kicking, Doctor through the door when we had arrived, but I managed it. I would need a shower when I got home, since my shirt was already damp with sweat, but I couldn't have cared less at that moment.
When we both emerged from the blue police box, two very surprised Alicorn princesses were looking at us. I had brought us directly into the private lobby of the two in the Canterlot theater. Down below, hundreds upon hundreds of Ponies were watching the performance on stage. Octavias concert had just begun.
“Doctor?”, Princess Luna asked, while Princess Celestias muzzle hung open in shock. As soon as he heard the voice, the Doctor stopped fighting me and looked up, wide eyed. I had remembered something. Something I had put into that last chapter. A hint that the Doctor, even though I named him “Lonely Doctor Whooves”, was not destined to be alone.
Instantly, he straightened himself, brushing dust off of his torn tuxedo. Princess Celestia finally composed herself. I would lie if I would say that she was gentle about pulling me out of there by the scruff of my neck, but then again, she had also suffered due to my bad writing. When she set me down in the hall, I was prepared for an outburst like the Doctors, but nothing of the sort happened.
Instead she smiled at me.
“Let's give the two of them some time alone, so they can talk, shall we?”, she asked me, gesturing to a bench that stood not far away. We talked a bit. She didn't hold the struggles I had put her through against me. Quite the contrary. She actually thanked me over and over again. I was a little baffled at that. Lonely Doctor Whooves was my worst work ever, and she was thanking me?
“Don't get me wrong. You did put us through quite a lot, but if it were not for your imagination, then none of us would ever have lived. Not in this form at least. I am quite aware of other Celestias out there, who were thought up by others just like you. But this life... The life I am living, and the love that you have awakened in my sister, these are things that I am grateful for.”, she elaborated when she saw my stunned expression.
Chuckling, Celestia (“You created me, so I think it is alright if you just call me Celestia.” Her words not mine!) summoned something with her magic. With a small puff of smoke a book appeared. It was my notebook!
“Just so you won't be able to put me or my sister through any more difficulties, I will hold on to this. In exchange, I want you to have one of these.”, the white Alicorn Princess finished, taking out a pendant from under her regalia. I had absolutely no idea what it was. I had not written that thing, and I was certainly not fine with someone (or somepony?) to keep my notebook! The only physical copy of my Lonely Doctor Whooves story was in there! Still, her expression told me that it would be no use to try and argue with her about it.
Sighing, I took the pendant, only to realize that it was a locket. A locket that I could not open, no matter how hard I tried. I put all my concentration into trying to flip it open, but nothing happened. When I looked up again, wanting to ask her what this was all about, I realized that I was back in my room, which was a total mess.
My notebook, that had been on my desk before all of this happened, was indeed gone, and I was sitting on a bench (that looked like it was more expensive then any other part of my furniture, but it was nice and soft, so I decided against selling it.) in the middle of my bedroom, clutching a golden locket with Celestias Cutiemark on it. I would be able to hide the locket, but explaining the bench to my father would be a crisis all on it's own....
Imagination
Chapter 3
Captain Frostmane
It was finally done. When I had started this story, I was under the influence of different kinds of medications, and pretty much not really myself. How else would I have thought that mixing J-L- Bournes “Day by Day armageddon” and “My little Pony”, would be a good idea?
When I had gotten better, I had discarded the story in it's entirety. It wasn't written very well, in any way. But after a few months people started asking me about it so I had picked it up again. I could barely believe that I was now looking down at the last few words of it's sequel...
I was happy, and scared at the same time. The last two times I had finished one of my Fanfictions, I had somehow ended up in the world of that story. Looking down at the last words, I wanted to scrap this chapter and write a new one. I would have done it too, but I lacked any kind of idea on how to go on with this story. Even when I turned over the page of my new notebook (Since Celestia had “borrowed” my original one, I had to get a new one in town.) my pencil just refused to move. I sighed, resigning myself to my fate. I really hoped that I didn't end up there this time, but looking back at my track record it was more then likely...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Just as I wanted to close the door behind me, to go up to my room and record this latest chapter for my channel, I stopped. This was not the corridor that led to the stairs, which in turn would bring me up to my room. The first thing I noticed was neither that, for some reason, there wasn't even a door behind me, or that the hallway had no windows at all. Nor was it the fact that all the surfaces seemed to be made of metal. No. All these little details escaped my mind entirely and I only realized them much later.
The thing that caught my eye, was a blood-trail on the floor. It led into the direction I was facing and by the looks of it, it was still fresh. How I was able to tell that was quite simple. The blood was still bright red, and had not yet dried. That meant that, whoever had come through this way was still somewhere nearby.
Oh who was I kidding? I knew exactly who had left this trail of blood. I had written the scene not ten minutes ago after all! With a quick movement of my left shoulder, I grabbed my backpack and stashed away my notebook. (Yes, I carry a backpack with me at all times. You can't imagine how much stuff I carried in there when I went out to write.) Then I began to run as fast as I could, following the blood.
I have no idea how long I had been running when I finally spotted her limp form, but I hoped that I was not too late. There she lay on her belly, her right foreleg stretched out as if she wanted to crawl further into that direction, but she wasn't moving. When I reached her, I didn't loose any time. I unbuckled my belt and took off my shirt. Ripping the latter to shreds I made a compression bandage on the stump of her right hindleg, while my belt went around the stump of her left foreleg. Then I turned her to her on her back. She wasn't breathing, nor was she protesting.
Being a trained nurse, I knew that I had to bring her to an emergency room ASAP, but the next hospital was... Ponyville general hospital. I dismissed that thought as soon as it had formed. That place was swarming with Zombie Ponies and I had nothing to fight them off with. Then I spotted it. A metal door with a red cross on it. I looked down to Frostmane again. Her pale blue coat was barely visible under all the blood. This strong and determined warrior looked so pitiful as she lay there in a pool of her own blood...
I may have said it before, but I will say it again. I am overweight and have barely any endurance. That's why it was ever harder for me to actually carry Frostmane to the medical station. She wasn't that heavy, but I had just run more then I had in quite a while. I really had to get back in shape, if this sort of thing happened more often from now on. Or maybe I should stop writing war stories and go for comedy or romance instead? At least it wouldn't involve me running from Timberwolfs or through a secret government facility. Nor would it involve me carrying or dragging Ponies around....
The medical station was just as I had imagined it. Everything was white and sterile, with several beds that lined the walls. And there, on the far wall, was what I had hoped to find. An Autodoc! I almost slipped as I went over to it as fast as I could and placed Frostmane on it. For some reason the system addressed me as “Princess Celestia” when I started to work the console. The menu was easy enough to understand. Well, for me at least. In a way I had invented this thing after all. All this jumping into my own stories was still very weird, but I felt less uncomfortable operating machines in those worlds. Since the time I had visited the Doctor, I had figured out that I knew how to use those, because I had been the one who had written them.
A few configurations later, the Autodoc began it's work on the pale blue Unicorn mare. I may have been the one who wrote her, and a trained nurse at that, but I still looked away when it lifted her tail to insert some tubes for waste removal.
I could only sit there on the floor and watch as the Autodoc worked on her (I must stress the point that I may be a trained nurse, but I have no idea on how to treat a Pony!). On a monitor next to it, I could see that her heart was beating again, but she had lost a lot of blood. There were several tubes attached to her neck now, through which she was receiving a blood transfusion...
I felt horrible. I had done this to her after all. Well... it was that explosion, but I was the one who WROTE that explosion. It had all been so much easier when I didn't have to worry about hurting my creations... When I could sent them into battles against unspeakable evils, without having to worry that I might actually see them hurt...
My gaze fell downwards to my bare chest. The locket Celestia had given me hang there. Seeing it got me thinking. I had to take my mind off of things anyway, so I decided to give it a try.
“Computer. Identify me.”, I ordered the mainframe of the base. A robotic voice answered me.
“You are Princess Celestia, your highness.”
The power of sunlight... Of course... That's why I wasn't freezing my head off while waiting here in only my jeans and shoes. A smile found it's way onto my face.
“Celestia, you clever, clever girl.”, I thought as I watched the Autodoc attach two artificial limbs to Frostmanes stumbs. They seemed to adjust themselves, as soon as they got into contact with the raw flesh of her wounds. A few minutes later the Autodoc opened again, and I could go over to see if she was alright.
She now had two more cybernetic implants, but I thought that this was a small price to pay for her life. Going over to one of the consoles, I found out that this medical station had ten medical robots in it's storage room. I activated them, and gave them the command to keep Frostmane alive and healthy, no matter what happened. They confirmed the order and went back to stand-by mode. The little floating spheres, with a red cross on the front, looked kind of cute as they floated back to where they had come from.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I don't know how long I waited, but I had to use the gentlecolts room twice and I can tell you that it was not an easy feat to do so. Damn me and my writing about Pony toilets!
After a long time, Frostmane finally opened her blue eyes. It took some time for her to realize that she was alive and even more augmented then she had been before. I guessed that she thought she had made it to the medical station after all, but then she saw me. Half naked and a cigarette between my lips. It must have been a really ugly sight.
With a groan, she tried to sit up, but I was at her side in an instant and pressed her down to the bed again. It was harder to do so than I had imagined. Even hurt as she was, I had to use both of my hands to do so. Then came the “usual” question and answer session. In retrospect, maybe I should have just lied to her...
“What the buck are you?”, she asked, not a hint of weakness in her voice.
Other then Moonsinger, Frostmane did not take what I told her very well. Instead I got a good impression of her hoof to hoof combat training, and her new augmented strength as she jumped up and pinned me to the floor. I was lucky that my cigarette landed next to me, and didn't fall into one of my eyes when I was pushed over.
“YOU KILLED THEM! ALL OF THEM! IT'S YOUR FAULT!”, she screamed into my face, emphasizing every word with a kick from her foreleg. It was more then fortunate that I was able to evade the blows she tried to inflict with her left (metal) hoof, because those left deep indentations in the metal floor!
“Frostmane! Listen! I'm sorry! Please, let me explain!”, I pleaded, my front teeth mostly broken and I could feel my eyes starting to swell shut. I even tried stopping her flesh and blood hoof with both of my hands, but that only resulted in me punching my own face repeatedly. I was on the verge of passing out when her augmented right hindleg kicked me where it really hurts. I could feel my balls being crushed (not to mention ripped off), by the force of that kick.
“THAT'S FOR MY FAMILY, YOU MONSTER!”, was the last thing I heard before the world blurred out of existence around me.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I woke up with a gasp in the hallway of my home. As usual, my injuries where gone, but my belt and shirt were missing. I also still felt much of the pain that she had inflicted on me. But what hurt even worse was, that she had been crying while she had beaten me to a pulp. I knew I deserved it for writing an ending like this for her, but it still hurt. I had wanted to help her somehow... Somehow make it hurt less for her, like I had done with the Doctor and Moonsinger...
As I walked up to my room, I found a few strands of pale and dark blue hair on me. I carefully took a plastic bag out of a drawer in my room and put them in there. It was then that I realized that the only way I could even attempt to make it up to Frostmane, was if I got to work a sequel right away. A sequel to make it all better...
My body still insisting that it had just received the beating of a lifetime, I took out my notebook and got to work.
Imagination
Chapter 4
Zeomak Seline Salchar
Self insert stories... Human in Equestria... Those have always interested me, yet did I never find the courage to actually write one. This, however, changed when I was talking to some fellow bronies on Skype. The topic had been, what Equestria had been like shortly after Celestia and Luna took over. We also talked about the war that had been going on between the three races prior to their rule.
An idea struck me, and I excused myself from the chat to pursue it. A few days later, I had finished the first few chapters of a new story. I liked it, and it was by far the best thing I had written in a while. The only big problem I was facing, was the self inserted me. I had made him stop smoking, get some exercise and even learn magic. Yet I had put him through quite the ordeal already. I knew, deep down in my heart, that if it had been actually me, I would have already given up completely.
But the show must go on, as the saying goes, and so I wrote one more chapter before I decided to call it a day and watch some movies on the Internet. It turned out alright, but I felt bad for him nonetheless. The conclusion of the story was not too far away, and I knew it would all end well, it was still hard to imagine myself in such a situation. My character had stopped drinking, after a confrontation with his wife, but I had written him so that he started again after his latest ordeal...
Do I have to mention that I never got to watch some movies on the good old Internet?
I stood up from my Laptop and put on my shoes to go out and buy some snacks. My trusty leather coat was also with me, when I opened the door to my room. The plan was simple. Drive to the nearest supermarket, get as many potato chips and beer as I could carry and knock myself out while watching the final season of Star Trek Voyager.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As I walked out into what I had hoped was the hallway, I found myself in a big room. The walls were lined with bookshelfs, while there was a single table in the middle. On top of it stood several instruments that looked like those I had used back in my chemistry lessons. At the table sat... me? That other me hadn't noticed me yet, as he raised a wooden mug and emptied it in one pull. He then threw it against the far wall of the room, swiping everything from the desk with both arms. As glass bottles and other breakable containers shattered on the floor, he put his face into his hands and began to cry. It was a sound I was familiar with, but that didn't mean that I liked it.
I don't know if I have ever mentioned this, but I am quite compassionate. If I see someone cry, I can't just walk away for some reason. It has put me into harms way more then once, and this time it wasn't any different.
I walked over with long strides and put my hand on his shoulder in a futile effort to comfort him. At fist, it seemed like he was glad about the gesture. Until he turned around to me that was. (Have I mentioned that he could do magic, and was most likely drunk?)
A pale white glow surrounded me as I realized my mistake. Before I could protest, he had already flung me across the room and into one of the shelfs. Books rained down on me as I raised my hands in an attempt to protect my head.
“Who the fuck are you?”, he bellowed as he advanced on me. I could see that I was quite to convenient target for him. There was a lot of rage in him, and he needed someone to take it out on.
“Wait!”, I pleased, while crawling backwards on all fours.
He stopped, eying me carefully before closing his eyes. Of course, I knew what he was doing. He was looking at my magical circuit, or better at the lack thereof. When his eyes fluttered open again, he looked confused.
“Forget my question, here's a better one. WHAT the FUCK are you?”
And so I began to explain who I was, what I was and that I was the person who had put him through all of this. In hindsight,that last part may not have been the smartest thing to do. Once again I felt myself enveloped by his magic and thrown to the other side of the room. (Quit a feat I might add, since I really need to loose some weight!)
This time he was on me before I could even try to get up. His breath reeked of booze, he had lost his glasses somewhere in all of this, and now he was chocking me. Oh my god how hard he was chocking me.... In my desperation, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. I had the ending to this story already planned out, so why not tell him?
“I... I … I know how to help you!”, I pressed out with the last remnants of air in my lungs. They burned as he let go and I could finally take a deep breath again. Zeo didn't let me get up though.
“How?”, he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Right now cough you are trying to figure out what is wrong with Luna. You know the basics cough, but you have no idea why the poison is cough cough affecting her the way it is, am I right?”, I inquired, knowing that I was right. His only answer was a grim nod that promised me that I was in for a world of hurt if he didn't like my answer.
“Look.... Zeo, the poison she has ingested is a magical one. It can not act of it's own accord, at least not at this scale. For it to have an effect like this, it must absorb a soul. The soul of someone or somepony who is dying.”, I explained, hoping he would finally let me get up.
“And how is that supposed to help me? Nopony has died in her vicinity when...”, his eyes lit up in realization as he caught on to what I was saying.
“And is there any way to help her? I mean to get set her free?”, he asked with so much hope in his voice that I couldn't bring myself to tell him that there wasn't one, even if it had been true.
“Yep, you can help her. I can tell you the necessary steps you must take to do it.”
After that, we both sat down at the table and I told him everything that I was intending to write. He was a little... different then I had imagined him to be, but that was alright. For some reason my creations seemed to know I was telling the truth as soon as I spilled the beans. (And of course I somehow knew how to operate things once I was in one of the worlds I had written.)
I made a great mistake while we sat there though. (I think I mentioned that he started drinking again?) We shared at least three bottles of the hardest stuff Zeo had brewed up behind Lunas back. I had no idea how much percent that stuff had, but it burned my throat worse then the homemade stuff my father had once given me to try. (And that stuff had about 57%!)
When I had reached the end of my tale (and the bottom of my mug for what felt like the hundredth time) I finally passed out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
My father was not too happy to find me passed out in the hallway, stinking as if I had stayed in a brewery for the last few days. He was even less happy about the fact that I pucked all over his shoes when he brought me to the hospital to be treated for alcohol poisoning.... (And the bruises on my throat. I had quite enough of all this being beaten by my own creations. I stopped smoking the very next day and promised myself to get some self defense training!)
Imagination
Chapter 5
Silk Light
I had finally finished Zeos story. A nice ending, if I may say so myself. Apparently none of my readers had figured out what the end was going to be, even though I had put quite some hints into the story...
That was the good news. The bad news was that I had come down with a rather nasty case of the flue, so I couldn't read all the comments that people left for the final chapter. It was rather infuriating. Whenever I felt a little better, and tried to look at the screen, my head started to hurt as if I had a hangover, and my eyes started to water. Even the medicine the doctor had given me didn't do anything to help. It only made me extremely sleepy...
Finally, my father came up with an idea. He still hadn't forgiven me for ruining his best pair of shoes, but he took pity on me. Long story short, he made me a Grog. (Basically high percentage alcohol with a bit of water, and sugar. That stuff is then heated and drunk in one gulp. According to him it's the best medicine against colds/flues.) One glass of it, and I basically collapsed on my bed. The heated alcohol made me sweat profusely, before I fell into blissful sleep...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Warm. Warm and... fuzzy? Oh well, I didn't care. It felt quite nice, so I snuggled up to it even more. (Did I mention that I'm kinda snuggly when I'm sick?) For the first time in days I was feeling comfortable. My headache was gone, my nose wasn't running as badly as before and the smell my nose picked up was more then pleasant.
The moment I noticed something was wrong, was when something began to stroke the back of my head. Something that felt pretty light, almost as if someone was using a feather on me...
My eyes snapped open and I looked into a pair of big, mismatched eyes. One of them was green, like Lunas, the other was brown, like my own. The horn of the midnight blue Alicorn mare next to me was glowing, and I noticed that there was a pink glow around my body.
Now, had this been the first time I had seen one of my creations come to life, I most likely would have sent myself to an insane asylum. As it was however, I was wondering what kind of horror was awaiting me this time. After all, I had just finished her story and I had given it a good end. There was no reason she should be here, was there? And what the hell was she doing to me? I couldn't feel anything wrong with me. In fact, I was feeling much better then before.
“Ehm... OK, don't get me wrong here Silk, but why are you here, and what is that spell?”, I asked as I drew back a bit.
The teenage Alicorn began to chuckle as her wings embraced me to pull me closer. I had to admit that I didn't really mind that. Her coat was like silk (true to her name), and her magical light was just as gentle. You wouldn't imagine that this Alicorn had been the original Nightmare Moon.
“I was wandering in the darkness, and my father showed me the light. I was driven by hatred, and my father gave me peace. Afterwards I asked him how he knew that it was me in there, and how he knew how to cure me. He told me that you paid him a little visit in his laboratory when he was desperate to figure out what was wrong with my mother. I learned that you were the one who created us, and who helped to set things right. It was that fact that convinced me that I owed you something. I am here to repay that debt. My special talent is medicine, just like my fathers.”, she whispered into my ear.
I realized what she was saying, but my head took a while to process it.
“OK wait. You're telling me that you are using regeneration magic on me? Is that even possible? I'm not part of your universe.”, I protested half hearted. I had absolutely no desire to pull away from her, if I was completely honest. Her warmth seemed to seep into me, while her right wing caressed my back carefully. Her chin rested on my head, so we didn't have eye contact anymore.
“Shh... Do not worry. I know what I am doing. I may not be a trained doctor yet, but I have learned quite a bit from my father. Now try to relax and let me take care of you. Let me thank you appropriately for the life you have given me.”, she whispered and I felt even more sleepy then when I had drunken the Grog.
For the very first time in several years, I didn't feel any pain and relaxed completely. I could feel muscles loosen that had been tense for quite some time. To this day I do not know if it was her magic, her scent or her warmth that had this effect on me. Maybe it was a combination of the three? In the end it didn't matter. It had been years since I had felt another next to me, and I decided to just enjoy the sensation. It didn't matter that she was a fictional character, or even that she was a Pony. All that mattered at that moment, was that she was someone (somepony?) who really cared for me. (How I knew that? Simple. Regeneration magic doesn't work on someone you have grudge on!)
After some minutes of this, I drifted off to sleep again...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I woke up to my father banging on my bedroom door. Usually this was a cause for some annoyance for me, yet all I felt was a strange calm. My body felt... good. There was no fever, no sweating and I could see clearly. This last part was what finally made me pause for a moment. I could clearly see my glasses on my nightstand, yet my vision wasn't blurred. My fathers pounding grew louder and more forceful as I finally jumped out of bed. No trace of my flue remained. When I lost my pajama pants, a second pause was in order.
I looked down on myself, not believing my eyes. I had lost at least 40 kilograms! I didn't have a six-pack or anything, but I imagined that I wasn't overweight anymore.
When my father finally just opened the door, growing impatient with me, his mouth hung open as he saw me.
“You... gotta tell me how you did that!”, was all he was able to say for quite some time. (He kept bugging me for my secret, and wanting me to see a doctor after that. Apparently loosing that much weight overnight was supposed to be a health hazard.)
Imagination
Chapter 6
Shooting Star
A feather, a locket, a few strands of mane. These were the physical items I had brought back from meeting the “fictional” characters I created. I had bought a small display case which I hung over my desk, so I could look at them while I wrote my stories. They were there to remind me to treat my creations well. My encounter with Silk Light had showed me that they could be thankful if I did so, and it was a feeling that I enjoyed very much. Helping others... had been the reason I had become a nurse after all.
This time however, I was at a total loss. My readers had asked me to write a sequel to the story of Moonsinger, and I had started to do so without a clear storyline in my head. I had usually written that way, making it up as I went, but now I was drawing a total blank. It had been several months since I had written anything for that sequel, and I just couldn't bring myself to pick it up again. The storyline I had written so far sure had some potential, but I just didn't know how to get to the end I had in mind. What was even worse was, that if I wrote it like that, I would have to write a third story in that universe just to complete it.
I didn't want that, so I changed my story to private so that no one would be able to read it until I had either completely rewritten, or deleted it. It was tedious to write a story you really didn't want to write in the first place...
My eyes fell onto the brown feather in the display case over my desk. Moonsingers feather... She had asked me not to forget her. Indeed I hadn't. In my sequel I had even brought her back to life, but I had only done that due to a lack of motivation to keep writing it at all!
After a while of simply staring at the feather, I opened the editing window of my story again. Staring at the few chapters I had written so far, I couldn't help myself but sigh. I had put so much work into it already, but I had run out of ideas halfway through my latest chapter. It was nothing less then frustrating.
While staring at the screen, specifically at a dialogue between Moonsinger and her daughter, I was suddenly blinded by a flash of light. I felt my chair disappear from under me as everything around me changed....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Falling... I was freaking falling! My arms and legs were flailing wildly as I saw the Everfree forest rush up to meet me.
“THIS IS SO NOT FUNNY!!!!”, I screamed as I fell towards my sure exit of this world. Whoever had brought me here, had a strange sense of humor. I had ended up at least a mile above the ground in the middle of the night no less! It was then that I saw something fly low above the treetops. I identified it almost instantly. An Alicorn. A midnight blue Alicorn with a flowing mane that reflected the night sky! For the love of god, why had it to be Luna?
The figure positioned herself under me, catching me on her back as she flew by. First of all: It hurt! Second of all: I was quite sure that this wasn't Luna as soon as she began to spiral through the air with me on her back! (Not to mention that she was laughing like a little filly while doing so! It was scary!)
The laughter, the slightly smaller statue and her antics finally made me recognize the Pony.
“Shooting Star?”, I shouted over the wind that was rushing past me as I held on to her neck for dear life.
“Wohoo! That was fun! Let's do it again!”, she shouted back and her horn began to glow. Before I could protest I was in full free fall again. I cursed myself for writing her with a strange sense of humor. This time however, she didn't let me fall as far. Instead she came rushing up to me and turned in midair to catch me on her back once more.
“Yeeeha!”, she called out in glee. I could tell that she was just playing around, but my lunch was about to come upstairs and tell me what it thought about all of this. I couldn't even warn her before I vomited all over her neck.
“Ewww...”, was all she said, before going into a steep dive towards the ground. When she finally touched down, I did everything I could to get off of her back as fast as I could. As sick as I felt, that wasn't very fast. And it was pretty cold as I had to find out soon after, since dear Star had touched down in the middle of a river! As I scrambled to get out of the water, gasping for air (I can't swim OK?) she was taking a bath... In a river... In Everfree... I kind of didn't remember having written her THIS insane.
“What... What the the hell was that for?”, I demanded, wringing out my shirt as best I could before checking my pockets. Great. My Cellphone was toast! Another loss due to my poor writing... I seriously considered just quitting at that point. Star however, didn't bother to answer me while she enjoyed her bath. Deciding to let her take her time (I knew I had no chance of getting her attention when she was occupied with something else anyway. The only thing that could have done that would have been the royal Canterlot voice, and I was not capable of that.) I lay down on the grass of the riverbank, enjoying the view of the night sky. After a while a very wet Alicorn stepped over me and started to shake.
“Oh come on!”, I exclaimed trying to push her away. All it did was provoke more giggles from her. (Hey that Alicorn was heavy OK? They are almost as big as a grown horse after all.)
“You're funny.”, she giggled, laying down next to me.
“Yeah, and you're insane! I am kind of fed up with... Wait! Have YOU brought me here?”, I asked indignantly.
“I'm not insane! I'm just bored!”, she pouted cutely, her violet eyes glaring at me in mock anger. “The adults are talking about the situation with the Alicorns of old. It's the only thing going on around here, but we don't seem to get anywhere!”, she added.
Now I understood. Moonsinger, her stepsister, must have told her about me, and that I was the one who decided what was happening in this world. She was sure one energetic filly... Maybe too energetic... Since I had stopped writing her story for the time being (and maybe forever!), the least I could do was to keep her company for a little while.
“OK, OK, I get it. You summoned me here somehow to have some fun, is that it?”, I asked and she nodded vigorously. All I could do was sigh and ask her what she had in mind. As it turned out I was in for the night of my life...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“FUCK, I KNEW YOU WERE INSANE!”, I shouted as the pack of Timberwolfs chased me. Differently from last time I was a little faster and had more endurance, but there was no way I could take on even one of them. I turned a corner, running towards a clearing on which Shooting Star should have been waiting for me. That goof of an Alicorn had wanted me to “lure in some playmates”, and sent me off into the forest. Had I known she sent me straight into the den of a pack of Timberwolfs, I would have called her insane. (Again)
My lungs burnt as I burst through the underbrush and onto the clearing, but Star was nowhere to be seen. She should have been there! My would-be killers didn't give me any time to ponder her absence, since they exited the forest directly behind me. Seeing no other option, I just kept on running. (Which was not easy due to the uneven forest floor and the burning in my lungs.) I could already feel myself loosing speed, yet Star was still nowhere to be seen. Then it happened.... I heard someone try hard (and fail) to suppress a laughing fit. As I looked up, I saw Shooting Star. She sat on a cloud directly over me and was laughing her tail off!
I was distracted for a second by this, and totally missed that I was about to reenter the forest... Running into a tree at full speed tends to stop ones attempts to escape. The laughing above me stopped abruptly, and was replaced by a gasp of shock.
“Did she finally realize that the prank she pulled on me here is going out of hand?”, I thought as I lay there, the air having been knocked out of my lungs by the impact. Instead of her coming down to help me however, another midnight blue Alicorn positioned herself between me and the predators. You may ask yourself how I was able to tell that it wasn't Star. Well that is quite easy. While Shooting Star had a full moon as a Cutiemark, this one whore a crescent moon on her flank. A quick flash of her horn later, and the whole pack of Timerwolfs was gone with the telltale flash of a teleportation spell.
Luna turned around and poked at me with a hoof until I began coughing, still trying to catch my breath. Relief seemed to wash over her when she saw that I was still alive. Looking up at her daughter, who tried to hide herself in the cloud, Luna took a deep breath.
“I am VERY disappointed with you young lady!”, she shouted, using her royal Canterlot voice. “Come down here this instant!”
A very ashamed looking Shooting Star joined us shortly after. I had managed to sit up and lean against the tree I had bumped into. Breathing was still painful, but at least not as bad as it had been initially.
“I must apologize for my daughter, Zeomak. I am sure she meant you no harm, but she has been pretty bored recently.”, the former Princess said to me, bowing her head. Oh great Moonsinger... Did you tell everypony about me?
“Would have been quite the show if the Timberwolfs had gotten him...”, I heard Star murmur under her breath. I wanted to reply to that, when something flew at me. It was silver, shaped like a U and it hit me straight in the face. Dead center. The last thing I heard before I went out, was Shooting Star crying out that it was an accident.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I woke up next to my desk with something heavy on my face. In that instant I was really glad that I didn't need my glasses anymore. Had I worn them, I might have lost an eye. When I sat up and the object fell into my lap, I saw that it was, indeed, a silver horseshoe...
Imaginations
Chapter 7
Silver Cross
It had been a long time since I had written anything, but since I had stumbled across one of my favorite horror audio plays on Youtube, I decided to make a crossover between it and My little Pony. I thought very hard about how I should tackle the subject of ghosts, and the ultimate evil, that wanted to take over the world of time and space. Many characters were created, scrapped and then implemented in some small roles nonetheless...
Even more time was spent, listening to that audio play that I had found on Youtube. There were so many elements that I wanted to use, but only so much I could do within the limits of the My little Pony universe. Finally, after weeks and weeks of thinking the story through, a thing that I was not used to in the slightest, I began writing it.
I decided to make the protagonist, different from the audio play which had inspired the story, a white Eartpony mare named Silver Cross. What I at first had thought of as limitations, now opened new opportunities for me. I made her a blank flank in her mid twenties, who was still looking for her special talent.
I wrote for two days on the first part of her story, and once I had finished, I was utterly exhausted, but also more then satisfied. It was time for a bath, a good meal and some serious shut eye in my opinion, but alas, fate had other plans with me.
I had almost forgotten about all the times I had visited my creations, the only reminders being the objects in the showcase over my desk. I had entered their world without noticing anything strange. That was if one did not count the incident when I was suddenly falling several hundred feet to my death...
This time, it was not only a dangerous experience, but also an utterly embarrassing one. I had just undressed myself, and was looking forward to a hot bath, when my cellphone rang. Tired as I was, I overbalanced as I turned around to pick it up, tripped over my house-shoes, and fell head first into the bathtub...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Instead of hitting the bottom of the tub with my face, which would have been pretty painful, I felt how I was completely submerged, while my body sank ever deeper. The water was pleasantly warm, but my lungs started to burn and protest after about a minute.
Then, when I started to flail my arms, trying to swim to the surface, my face suddenly hit something quite hairy. Feeling a hard surface under me again, and indeed something hard hitting my head from above, I thrust myself upwards with my arms. I already had a very good idea of what had happened, but I couldn't have cared less at that moment.
I gasped for air, as my face broke the surface of the water. Someone was screaming, and again, I was hit in the face. The force of it flung me back a few feet, until I was able to get my footing again and stand up. I felt, through the waves coming towards me, that whoever I was visiting this time was speeding towards me. Out of instinct I put both on my arms in front of me, and was surprised when I actually caught my assailant with my left hand.
A short struggle occurred, in which I, blinded due to the soapy water in my eyes, did my best to subdue the pony who was cursing at me in a manner that I would not feel comfortable to repeat. The more harmless things she called me were: Rapist, Monster, Freak and (and this one was the most funny in my eyes) a rutty mule.
I was panting pretty hard, when I had finally managed to get behind her, slip my arms under her forelegs, and link my hands behind her head. By that time, I had taken quite a beating already, but I was determined to see this through. Wiping my face on my lower arm, I regained the ability to see again, and my suspicions were immediately confirmed. In my grasp was a white Earthpony mare, her black mane partially hiding her face, as she continued to scream as if I was murdering her.
It was that moment that I took a moment to take in my surroundings. We were in a pretty big pool, which I quickly found out was Silvers “bathtub”. I counted myself lucky that I spotted her namesake, a leather band with a silver cross attached to it, laying on a small table next to the “tub”. Had she worn it, she would have beaten me into a pulp with that first hit... No forget that... She might have actually decapitated me...
“So, what now? What do you want from me, and who sent you?”, she barked at me, trying to propel herself upwards and hit me in the chin with her head. Lucky for me, I was a lot taller then her, and her hooves did not touch the ground while I held her.
“Look, Silver, I mean you no harm. So, if I let you go, will you listen to me, and NOT beat me to death?”, I asked hopefully, easing my grip on her slightly so she saw that I was being serious. She did stop struggling, but I didn't get an answer for several minutes. During that time, I had to admit that it became harder and harder for me to hold her. Half her body was still submerged in water, but holding a mare that weight about a hundred pounds for a prolonged amount of time, was not something I could do.
“Who are you?”, she answered, in a more calm tone of voice.
“I am... well... you could say that I am your father of sorts... I wrote you.”, I answered sheepishly. A jolt went through me, that I had never felt before when I had told one of my creations who I was. It didn't hurt, but it startled me enough to let go of the mare in my grasp. Silver fell into the water, splashing my face with soapy bubble-bath once again. Since I wasn't hit again, and I couldn't hear her running towards her cross, I deemed it safe to take the time and wipe the soapy water from my eyes once again.
I went red as I could as soon as I could see again. Silver Cross was standing in front of me, eying me from head to... hip.... Oh my god, I had completely forgotten that I was naked as on the day I was born, and the water wasn't even high enough to cover my private parts! I fell to my knees, hiding my lower body under the thick curtain of bubbles that floated on the water. That brought a smug smile to Silvers face, and one aspect of her personality suddenly came to my mind.
“Awww... are you embarrassed? How cute!”, she giggled, while looking at me with a look that I didn't like in the slightest. I resembled that of a Boa Constrictor that had spotted a particularly delicious piece of meat... Damn, that analogy really frightened me.
Scrambling backwards, I did my best to get some distance between the two of us, while I explained the situation to her. Her blue eyes were slightly narrowed, while her muzzle showed an ever so small smile while I explained to her that the Ponies were only fictional characters in my world, and that I had thought her up to release some tension. That her character had haunted me in my dreams and that it was a great opportunity for me to have a change of pace from all the other stuff I did...
Before long, I could not back up any longer, and Silver Cross started to advance on me. I cursed myself inwardly that I had wanted to try myself at writing a story with clop elements, as I looked for a way to escape my predicament. When she was only a feet away, she leaned in until her muzzle was actually touching my nose.
“Well, well, well... Looks like you will get to “enjoy” your creativity tonight.”, she purred, and I could feel her hot breath on my face. In the back of my head I could hear Zecoras ryhming voice.
“If it's a mare in heat with which you're roomed.... You're doomed.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Silver Cross was everything I had written her, but a great cook she was not. Therefor it was my duty to make breakfast the next morning. Scrambled eggs, a few toast and a big mug of coffee for the both of us. The only thing that irked me about the experience, not counting that she basically forced me into it, was that she had no clothes for me.
After breakfast, I went to the bathroom, wanting to wash up and try to figure out how I could get back home again, before that mare wanted to play some more. It turned out that I didn't have to think about it too much. As soon as I had closed the door behind me, I found myself in my own bathroom again. The water I had put into the tub was still there, and I took my bath. It may have been ice cold by that time, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to forget what had happened last night, and I promised myself to never ever write a clopfic again!
Imagination
Chapter 8
Writers Block
Ideas.... To write a story they are essential, but I was all burnt out. A week ago my cousin had died from sudden heart failure, and I was just now beginning to start mourning him. He had been one of the few members of my family that I actually got along with, and now he was gone forever...
In an attempt to distract myself, I had grabbed my Laptop and gone downstairs to the balcony. The Internet connection there was not too reliable, but I didn't need that to write. I even had an idea in mind. A story about a young Pegasus who found her purpose in life, by helping others find theirs. The only problem with that was, that once I had written the first paragraph, I had run out of ideas. Everything seemed to drain out of me like someone was “drinking” my ideas with a straw...
I scrapped the story, and instead sat down and watched a movie I didn't really want to see. It was so bad, that I emptied a whole bottle of Vodka, just to bear it. Something I hadn't done in quite some time. Not since... Silk had visited me...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next morning I woke up with a terrible hangover, in a bed that was definitely not my own. The sheets were made of silk, instead of fluffy plush, and the walls were painted a dark orange, instead of white. I soon found out that I had wandered around while I had been drunk beyond imagination, and my sister had found me passed out in the street. A broken six pack of beer had lain next to me. Because her apartment had been closer, she had taken me to her place to spend the night. She was not amused by this, but agreed not to tell our father. After washing myself, I made my way home, since she refused to provide me with breakfast after my disgraceful display in the street.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Six weeks, six stories. Six stories that would never see completion. I had scrapped all of them, after reading what I had written. All of them had been written under the influence of one drug or another. May it be tobacco, alcohol or cannabis... My father was seriously starting to worry about me, but I didn't care. Nor did I care that the few shorts that I had published in my drunken stupor got the worst possible ratings. Some even called them worse then the things their seven year old children had been able to come up with... I didn't care... All I wanted to do was to write, but I seemed to have lost the knack for it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Eighth week, and yet another four story ideas scrapped. A few chapters on my ongoing stories published, but they were so bad that I, even in my drunken state, felt bad about the people who actually enjoyed the stories. They were disappointed by my most recent works, and I couldn't even blame them. At least I knew that I couldn't do that deep inside. On the outside I started to rage at my readers, and every damn critic who wrote something negative about my work.
“Do it better Asshole!”, was the general census of what I told them...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Week twelve... I had given up writing all together a few days ago, after noticing that I was so stoned, that I was unable to bring a coherent sentence on paper. Even the updates on my YouTube Channel, of which I was more than proud, had been put on hold. I just didn't have the energy to narrate anything anymore.
It was one Wednesday morning... I had run out of smokes and cursed under my breaths as I rolled off my bed and fell into a pile of empty booze bottles. My gaze drifted upwards towards the showcase above my desk. The items I had brought back from my “adventures”. I began to laugh maniacally. I was so loud that soon my dad banged on my door and asked if I was all right. I told him to fuck off and drew myself off of the floor.
I hadn't shaved since the funeral, and my last shower had been at least a week before. I was stinking, but even that fact only made me laugh harder at myself. My hands were shaking, and I took a swig from one of the bottles that surrounded my bed. Pure rum first thing in the morning. Oh how great I felt. I could almost imagine myself as some pirate waking up on his ship to the gentle sound of the waves.
Then I noticed that I didn't even have any more booze left. So off to the supermarket it was. I put on my shoes and checked my wallet. Fifty bucks left. That would bet me three packs of tobacco, papers and a bottle of Vodka or two.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I was walking down the street, steadying myself occasionally on the walls of nearby buildings. Passers by gave me a wide berth. I remember yelling at a few of them, but none of them reacted to me in any way. I felt so awesome, that it should have been illegal.
Then I made a mistake.
A group of teenagers who had been after me for a while, because the loudest of them was under the impression I had hit on his girlfriend once, came waking up the sidewalk. I usually evaded them, since I am not a brave man, and all I want is to live my life in peace, but today I was feeling just a little too awesome. I approached them, and started yelling, taunting them. They just started at me, flabbergasted. Then it happened. On the edge of my mind I heard the sound of an engine. The next moment their ringleader had grabbed me by the shirt and thrust me into the street. The speeding car that came around the curve ran me over, and everything went dark.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I awoke in a dark place. There was no light whatsoever, only coldness. I could feel that I was not alone, but I didn't see anything.
“I can save you.”, I heard a voice whisper in my ear.
“Who are you?”, I screamed into the darkness, whirling around, trying to catch whoever had been whispering into my ear, but my hand grabbed nothing but air.
“You are dying.”, the voice whispered again, this time coming from my left. Again I whirled around, and again there was nothing. I felt something icy run over my back, turned around and grabbed it. This time, my hands found it. It felt like something wet and cold, but alive. Almost like an octopus' tentacle. My blood froze in my veins as I felt the tip of it harden and slip into me as if I was made of smoke. I gaped into the darkness, feeling an icy cold running through my stomach.
“Just give in. I can save you.”, the voice whispered again. “You cannot win.” A second tentacle slithered it's way across my back. It felt it's tip start to press against my back, like the one now embedded in my stomach had done. I prepared myself to be impaled once more.
It didn't happen though. Instead a brilliant light through the darkness, severing the tentacle that was already in my stomach and the one that was about to impale me from behind. Suddenly the whole room was filled with gentle golden light, and a white figure with a multi hued mane and tail descended from above, landing in front of me, her wings spread.
“LEAVE HIM ALONE!”, Celestia bellowed at the thing that I could now see clearly. It was something like a giant mass of solid shadow. It's tentacles were innumerable, but most of them were wrapped around giant golden doors, blocking them.
I fell to one knee, checking my stomach for the blood that would surely gush out at any moment now, but it didn't come. I was utterly unhurt. Only that cold feeling still resonated in me.
“What are you doing Celestia? Leave me alone... I'm DONE with you Ponies... I'm done with writing...”, I said pathetically. Suddenly a fist hit me straight in the face and sent me sprawling. As I looked to where it had come from, I saw... myself... Zeo... He stood tall, his face contorted in barely suppressed rage.
“GET A FUCKING GRIP ON YOURSELF!”, he shouted at me, as he raised his left arm and pointed it towards the thing that had attacked me earlier. Strands of magic shot from it, binding the tentacles that tried to shoot towards me again.
“I CAN'T WRITE ANYMORE! THERE ARE NO IDEAS LEFT IN MY STUPID HEAD!”, I shouted back, wiping the blood from my lip. Something grabbed me and I was flung through the air, landing on a Ponies back.
“Remember me?”, Shooting Star smiled at me as she turned her head, grinning at me happily.
“Of course I remember you, you crazy b...”, I started to say, but she flapped her wings, lifting off as I tried to get off her back. I already knew what was coming but falling from about a hundred feet was still not a pleasant experience.
Just before I was reduced to a bloody stain on the floor, another Alicorn caught me on her back, glaring up at Shooting Star.
“You know sister, you shouldn't pull stuff like that. Some Ponies are already thinking your batshit crazy.”, Moonsinger reprimanded her stepsister. Shooting Star just hovered up there, sticking her tongue out while winking with her left eye.
“What the bloody hell are all of you doing here?”, I asked, as I got off of Moonsingers back and noticed that her and Shooting Star were also focusing their magic on the thing.
“HE IS MINE! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! YOU'RE HISTORY!”, the thing screamed in agony, as their magic closed around it. Some of its tentacles moved away from the door, unhindered by Zeos magic, and raced towards me.
“I don't think so buster.”, came the voice of a mare I had visited not too long ago. Silver Cross and Frostmane shot past me, kicking and slicing at the tentacles that were trying to wrap themselves around me. Celestia turned, walking trotting towards me.
“You have been in pain. You have been doubting yourself, and sank even deeper into the pain.”, she said.
“But I can remedy that.”, Silk Light said as she appeared in a flash of light next to Celestia.
“That's none of your business! Leave me alone! I don't wanna write anymore! I just want to die!”, I shouted at them, and the shadow thing began to laugh. “I am not a good author! I can't write SHIT! In fact, the only thing I DO produce is SHIT!”, I cried, falling down to my knees.
“That's right. You'll never be able to live of your writing, no matter how much you practice it. You will never be able to entertain...”, the thing laughed, but got cut short as Zeo put his free hand onto my shoulder.
“Mate... You may not be the best, nor will you ever be, but what you have is something wonderful. You have understood that you have to pour your heart and soul into a story. That's why I'm here...”, he said, his hand squeezing gently.
“You have seen the light that not many can see. There are not many who can shed light into the darkness of their imagination. This darkness comes when people grow up. The spark of childhood, is your light. That's my reason for being here.”, Celestia said as she stood next to me, stroking my heaving back with a wing.
“A little insanity can never hurt when you write a story.”, Star giggled as she lay down in front of me, nuzzling my cheek.
“Compassion for your creations...”, Silk said as she trotted up to me, Moonsinger right behind her, “And the willingness to make hard decisions, even if it means killing your favorite character, or putting them through hardships.”, Moonsinger added, as both of them took their positions next to me.
“The guts to publish something in the first place, even though you know that there may be other people out there who don't like what you have created. People who may even spam hate on your work. And the will to improve.”, Silver Cross said in a sultry voice as she flicked her tail under my nose before sitting down on my lap. Given our last meeting I wasn't quite comfortable with that, but my rage had completely subsided. I was weeping at this point, and my tears just didn't want to stop.
A pair of forelegs, one of them a cybernetic prosthetic, wrapped around my neck and the mare they belonged to pressed her warm, yet hard cheeks against my back. The metal under her flesh making the touch a strange sensation.
“And the will to go on, no matter what happens.”, she whispered so silently that I almost didn't hear it.
Warmth spread in my body. I could feel it. Suddenly I got ideas again. My body was starting to glow as my mind started to clear for the first time in months. I was a writer. Maybe not a big shot, nor one of the better ones, but I was proud of my work. Suddenly I started to question all the things I had done over the last twelve weeks.
“NOOOO!”, the thing shouted.
“Oh YES!”, I shouted back.
“NO ONE WILL READ WHAT YOU WRITE AFTER YOUR SLIP UPS!”, it shouted at me. “BETTER QUIT NOW, WHILE YOU STILL HAVE SOME DIGNITY!”
“Maybe... But as long as there is ONE person out there willing to read what I write, I will go on! No matter how many haters try to put me down, no matter how many people dislike what I do, as long as there is ONE person who likes it, I WILL GO ON!”, I said, unconsciously stroking Silvers mane, as she snuggled up to my chest, purring like a cat.
The doors, which the creature had held shut, started to open. They tore it apart as a bright golden light poured out of them. I suddenly had all of my imagination back. All the ideas and all the characters that I had discarded...
All those characters fell to the floor as the shadow thing fell apart. Some of them were incomplete, while others were, but all of them glared at me with utter hatred in their eyes. I lifted up Silver Cross, disentangled myself from Frostmane and stood up, walking towards them. The shadowy figures of my discarded creations tried to scurry away from me, but they couldn't. One by one, I picked them up. They were almost weightless, unsubstantial. After I had them all gathered together, I spread my arms, embracing them. One by one their glares changed to peaceful smiles...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I woke up in the hospital, my body broken and my system suffering from extreme withdrawal symptoms, but I was still alive. Even in my state, I was full to the brim with ideas. It was my father who was with me when I awoke. He cried and wanted to yell at me at the same time. Much of the effect was lost due to his tears however. I had been out a whole month, and the doctors hadn't been sure if I would ever wake up again.
I asked him to bring me my Netbook to the hospital as soon as he had quited down a little. Even with only one working arm, I had a story to write....
