Mama, I write this as they come for meby joe motherChaptersTheir bloody teeth are gnawing at the doorThey've got sick masks onHoards of the sickTheir bloody teeth are gnawing at the doorDear Mama, The sky has turned red, and the clouds are becoming a sickly green and yellow. You might have noticed it, but I'd like to think the world is still untarnished for you. Lots of ponies have died from the plague, and maybe half of them are roaming the world near death, feeding on the living to spread the infection. I saw some out in the field this morning, stumbling onto my property slower than a dead cow. There are herds of 'em, bleeding and moaning in this Celestia-awful way. I'm beginning to think the sound'll kill me before they do. Mama, I don't like to think about death, but it seems now there is only that. I'm scared for myself, scared for my future. The air is damp and musty, all the wood–the house, the barn–creaks and moans. The red stains are everywhere, and the rot spreads into the world. It all leads to death. The death of the house and the barn, the death of the plagued, the death of life. I've been wishing for a deeper insight into the world my whole life. You remember. I wanted to be a scientist when I grew up, but when you got ill I was held back so much that there was no way out. It's funny how my deeper insight of life came with death. Well, not really very funny. Not really. Because life is just the road to death. Life is a journey to death, a winding road that may stop short on the way to your destination, or a raging river to take you away. Ponies like to say "The trip is about the journey, not the destination," but I think they need to learn. The journey is meaningless. Nothing we accomplish here carries over into death. When we die, we don't carry those school awards or hoofball trophies with us. They stay here to remind the other travelers of our earnings during their travels. It seems like a good name for the plague monsters. "Travelers." We don't use the word to describe the living, so why not use it on the ones nearly dead? I just heard one knock on the barn door. A wet thud, squishy with blood and flesh. The Travelers are coming to get me now. I don't know how long I can hold in here before they break in and finish the journey. Do you remember the pony I killed? Do you know him? I stabbed him when he was in my house. He came in the middle of the night, seeking shelter from the Travelers, and I thought he was one. I got him right in the eyes. When I realized he wasn't one, I had to go. The blood draws them. I felt a rush when I learned he was just a survivor. The idea of killing became invigorating. It's a shame that I didn't think of it before. SPLATTER and I brought a knife in case I decide that I need it. My mind might change, and I need to be ready for it. I wonder if this is some form of cleansing. Maybe it's the wrath of some olden god before Celestia and Luna existed. I've heard of a book where the god kills if too many stray from his teachings. That may be what our world is experiencing. A plank just broke off the door, and a few just started cracking on the wall. I can hear their cries, their agony. It hurts my head, and I keep looking at the knife wondering how long it'll take for them to break in. I think that even hell isn't as bad as this. Not nearly. Onto my previous subject, I wonder if praying to the god will appease it. Do prayers really work? I've been thinking about the usefulness of prayers. Lots of ponies pray to Celestia or Luna and still have many things go wrong, but the moment something good happens it's always more praise to them. I don't like it. In fact, I don't like the Princesses one bit. What do they do besides raise the sun and moon? Anypony could do the ruling, being an alicorn doesn't give them some form of higher authority or magical benevolence that they supposedly possess. It's all some hierarchy, and the earth ponies are at the bottom. We get the hard jobs, working long hours and doing more. The unicorns hardly ever get any difficult jobs. Any job would be easy with magic. The pegasi only get the sky jobs, and they don't have to do much besides rearrange some clouds. I'm sorry, Mama, I went off on a tangent for a moment. I hope you're okay with SPLATTER and the blood is running down the walls now. The sun is starting to set, and it's getting cold. I wish that they got cold and would stop in the night, but they'll keep at it until I'm dead with them. Their bloody teeth are gnawing at the door. It's a grating sound, and I've watched a few rip their teeth out from the effort and keep going. It's scary. It's lonely and terrifying. I want to open the door for them so I don't have to wait, but yet I'm still hinged on the idea of possible help coming to save me. It's a ridiculous thought, but it could be true, even out here in the middle of nowhere. It's gotten really dark now, and I'm only guessing that my letters in this are spaced correctly or in proper lines. If I survive till morning I will see. I feel silly knowing that I forgot a lantern. I'm always distracted in the moment. I was think about the paper and the ink and the quill that I didn't bring it with me. Remember the time when I forgot to bring Papa his pipe with the paper and he beat me? He was always so drunk. I guess I deserved it, forgetting something he so clearly told me, or maybe I'm just going crazy. Wouldn't be surprising, considering. I SPLATTER the world SPLATTER The wind is howling, and it's slightly covering up the sound of their fetid bodies snapping at the barn. There's a glimmer of moonlight coming in from where the many holes have been made, and I can see the silhouettes of their broken bodies through the gaps. They scare me, but not as much as before. I've been able to cope with my impending death. I may even be relaxed enough to sleep. SPLATTER woke up to the sound of a large crash. The door is hanging on by the hinges, and large portions of wood are missing. The moans are bloodthirsty, and I can hear the wet gurgling as they scream. Dozens of teeth litter the dirt near the planks. I have my hoof on the knife. I have decided. SPLATTER The blade is cold, comfortably cold. I run it across my fur as the door shudders. They're here. So close. I press it into my skin and draw blood. I'm going insane. I know it. The door has fallen over. The Travelers shamble in, and I hold the knife to my throat. I am writing this with shaking hooves. I want to tell you I love you, Mama. That should be the last thing on this letter before I cut my throat. The breath of the Travelers is rancid, and it gets worse as they get closer. I love you, Mama. SPLATTER Author's Note Something. I don't know. It was an idea I had. I hope you like it! They've got sick masks on4th of Harvest They hired a cartographer yesterday. A FUCKING CARTOGRAPHER. The lab is already low on funds, and they hire a cartographer. I don't know what they need her for, but it's certainly a waste of money. Today she burst in here, saddlebags full of maps and pencils and compasses. She went into the office and worked for nine hours straight. On what, I can hardly imagine. It does seem like a bright side that I never see her, but her presence means bad things. The money being spent on her will probably make the company cut some jobs. I'm not exactly the best scientist of the bunch, so I'll most likely get the short end of the stick. I ate some fast food again today; it tasted like shit. I don't have time to cook anything, so whatever I get is what I get. I can't remember the last time I had a good meal. It might have been with my parents before college. After that I just ate when I could and that was it. Tonight I grabbed my telescope and gazed at Peregrine 825B. It still glows as bright as it did nearly two years ago, and I still am fascinated on how. I've looked into theories about light and stars, but none of them had yet to become laws. The colors are rather interesting in the body. 6th of Harvest We began working on a viral cure today. The virus has infected a small number of ponies, but it seems to be dangerous enough to require a cure this early on. Celestia herself requested funding, and we now have enough money to keep the cartographer and my job. I don't know many details on the virus, other than that it currently has a one-hundred percent mortality rate. Unicorns have been casting spells and manipulating the disease constantly since it came in, making me worry that it's worse than they let on. The sky has started turning red, and the clouds are starting to become yellow and green, almost like they're sick. The pegasi have stopped moving them, so the weather forecast has been cloudy for the past two days, and will continue to be until it goes back to normal. They got an Element of Harmony to come in and try to fix it, but even that didn't work. The Princesses have released an official statement on the matter, saying that they knew about as much information on the matter as we all do. No Discord, no Sombra, no evil villain from a thousand years past come to seek vengeance for his defeat. It is rather odd to see everypony at a loss. Usually, there's some smart unicorn or somepony that knows what it is and can get information out. I guess even one of the "end of the world" street beggars could have the answer, but I doubt it. Tonight, my telescope viewed one of the clouds, and I was repulsed by the color and texture. It reminded me of a dead body, something I had unfortunately had to see a couple of times in the lab. I hope that the issue does get fixed quickly, because having to worry about a virus and sick clouds would really hurt Equestria. 7th of Harvest The Element of Magic, Twilight Sparkle, came into the lab today. She took a look at the disease and helped us work on it. She didn't have as much experience or knowledge on the field of viral protection, but her wide scope of related knowledge helped tremendously. In the end, we managed to make a half vaccine. We tested it on a rat, and it delayed symptoms by three hours. 9th of Harvest I don't know what to think about the virus. The rat we tested the vaccine on two days ago began to eat the other rats, and the uneaten ones developed the virus as well. Twilight was appalled and we continued trying to find a cure. We hit a wall when we ran short on supply of the virus. It appears the virus causes the infected to become cannibalistic, and not only that, but it's contagious. I fear that the ponies working close to the vaccine will get infected. I may as well. I fear for my safety. 10th of Harvest When I came into work today, quarantine tape had been put all along the building. Policeponies and medical unicorns in masks were outside, writing down some information. When I approached them about the matter, they told me it was none of my concern and led me out. When I went back home, I learned that Twilight was sick from the virus, and that Celestia and Luna were trying to assist her. I am truly scared now. If the Princesses die, we will be thrown into disarray. After I showered, I felt an itch in my throat. I coughed it out in a glob of mucus and now I will sleep. 12th of Harvest Phillydelphia is being evacuated. Twilight died, and Celestia and Luna caught the sickness. I write this as I am ushered into a train. They are scanning ponies to check for signs of the disease. This journal is the only thing I brought with me since we couldn't bring our belongings. I am five away from the test station. I've coughed a few times, but it's just a cold. I just coughed out another blob of mucus, and I feel a lot better. I got past the station and I've made my way onto the train. It's rather crowded in here. The cough is back again, and this time I continue to cough mucus onto my fur. The itch in my throat won't go away. 13th of Harvest Everypony on board is coughing now. The entire train is a herd of hacking, wheezing, sick ponies. I am constantly light-headed; writing this is a chore. We received news that Celestia and Luna have died along with the rest of the Elements of Harmony. Coupled with that news, we learned that the entire village of Ponyville was wiped out. The good news is that experts in Canterlot began working on a cure in a safer environment where they could not get infected. I will have to stop for now, my hooves are beginning to bleed. 13th of Harvest, sometime late My teeth hurt, and my hooves are soaked in blood. I feel no urge to eat or drink, and the ponies around me have started keeping their distance. My inkwell ran out, so now I am using my blood to write. It's hard to keep it from smearing or dripping on the page, but I have kept it from doing so. The train is stopping now. 14th of Harvest They've dropped us off in Ponyville, where a bunch of soldiers are watching us. They've got sick masks on, so I guess we've come down with the virus. Well, now it's more like a plague. My teeth have started loosening, and a lot of other ponies have bleeding hooves. My arms are heavy and weak, so I try and write sparsely. The wind is heavy here. I noticed that. I noticed that my nose is bleeding. It's painful, but I don't care anymore. The soldiers are coming closer. Their horns are glowing, and I watch them kill all the plague victims. I don't care. I just want there to be death, only death, whether it be my own or everypony else's. I wan Hoards of the sickAuthor's Note TOOK FOREVER. LITERALLY SINCE THE 1ST OF SEPTEMBER I AM SORRY. Hoards of the sick *The beginning chapter is a monologue, and I've removed the quotations so I don't have to replace them every time I start a new paragraph. ~~~~~ will denote the shift from monologue to actions and quotations. ~~~~~ Hello. This is Silent Night reporting from the field. I am transmitting via link crystal. Anyone there? Damn it, static. I'll keep talking in case someone picks up. I'm approaching the site, and I can already hear the noise. It's grating and damn horrible. It's this moan full of blood and pus, and it just goes straight into your head. I can imagine that a lot of ponies have died from this. Really, I don't know what to think about all of this. I can only see that it's a miracle we've survived this long without the military. Speaking of the military, I saw a few camped out near our site when I left. They didn't seem to be looking for anypony, but they may find you. Stay on guard. I've crawled out into the site now. I can see them all the way across the field. They're eating dozens of bodies. Something big happened here, and it looks like they lost. I can see somepony running away. Holy shit. Two just broke off from the group to chase him. They're fast. Too fast. Being slow was supposed to be their weak point, but there's some outrunning this stallion. He's coming closer to me and I can see that he's in the army. That means this entire war zone was the army. They all died. Maybe the ones camping out were survivors. You guys should start moving out. Fuck. They caught the stallion and ripped his limbs off. They didn't even put any effort into it, they just took 'em off. I'm gonna move somewhere else now. I can't risk being spotted by those things. They're eyes are horrible, worse than the normal ones. The sockets are empty and are oozing blood and parts of their brain. I've gotten at least fifty yards away. I can still hear them crying out from the field, but it's not so bad anymore. I found a patch of dried blood; looked like somepony met an unfortunate fate there. There are flesh pieces scattered near it, but there's a trail of crushed bushes leading to the field. How are these things even alive? If they're losing all this blood and literally having their brain fall apart, how can they keep moving and eating? Is it a parasite or something? I know we've been told it's a virus, but no virus makes a dead pony walk on after death. I heard something. It came from behind me. I've investigated and there was an infected one eating a corpse at the army campout. Now I'm worried. Are you guys there at base? Are you alive? Did you run? I don't know what to do right now. If you've left, then I have no way to find you, and what will I do? I can't be stuck out here with a bunch of infected! Alright, I'm coming back to the base. If you're there, please let me know. Please. If there's an apparent issue when I arrive, I'll go. ~~~~~ "Damn it," Silent Night muttered as he rummaged through the supplies. "They left everything behind. What happened?" The maps and link crystal sat in the same places they had been when he had left, as well as everything else in the room accept for his comrades. No blood or signs or struggle were obvious; the hut was still undamaged. He knew it was pointless to stay, so he packed up his things. He rolled his sleeping bag up and put it in his saddlebag along with food and water, as well as some of the maps. He put the link crystal in at the last second, unsure if he would need it or not. He slipped a pistol into a holster on the saddlebag. "I'm going," he said, lighting a match. The protocol was to light a fire to attract the infected so he had more time to get away. If his friends came back they'd be devoured if they hadn't already. The thought sent a pang of guilt through his heart. Were they still alive? Did they just walk out somewhere? He dropped the match. He had been trained to only expect the worst. It was a nuance of the job. Silent Night started off into the forest as the fire picked up pace on the dry wood of the hut. He tightened his lips and let out a deep breath. No turning back now. He had to find a way back home or somewhere safe. It was the only way to protect himself. The morning sun grew high as he emerged from the forest onto a small plain with a single house surrounded by multiple fences. There were animal skeletons scattered about in the fences, and holes in some where the animals had managed to dig through. The house itself was broken down and decaying. The roof sagged in, and any semblance of color it once had was eroded into oblivion. The soldier marched past and started to smell smoke. Looking back, he saw the pillar of grey rising into the sky. He turned away, going forward to the town he saw up ahead. The town looked normal, but it seemed to be dead. No sounds were coming from it, and no ponies were moving around. There was the sound of machinery approaching–a train, perhaps–but it was distant. He thought he was heading into a ghost town until he heard the gunshots. One after the other after the other after the other. The ringing echoed across the field, and he heard cries come from the town. Breaking into a sprint, he ran to the town. He burst into the town square to find a squad of military ponies in disease masks moving dead bodies into a bonfire while the soldiers reloaded their weapons as more ponies were laid down in front of them, bleeding at the mouth and hooves, only a few looking terrified, unable to scream. Amongst them was a doctor, who was merely writing in a journal of some kind, his blood providing the ink for his madness. The soldiers raised their weapons. There were some whimpers from the sane among them, and the soldiers' eyes were filled with despair and self-loathing. They pulled the triggers and the bodies fell. More let out screams. Silent Night watched as the doctor fell over, journal still in hoof, the bullet ripping through his skull and splattering his writing with illegible splotches. He ran forward, but one of the soldiers threw a hoof out. "You can't touch them," he said. "They may be contagious. We've got staff." "I want that doctor's journal," Silent Night said, pointing at the lab coat-clad stallion who was getting dragged to the fire. "The journal's burning with him," the soldier replied. "He touched it and infected it. We don't have time to read everypony's mementos." Silent Night just stepped back as more ponies were brought up. He felt like vomiting. This was the effect of the virus? It was so bad that they had to perform mass murder to exterminate it? His heart suddenly stopped as he saw his friends get brought up with the group. They had sores across their fur, and their eyes leaked blood and fluid. Cuts scored their flanks, rendering their cutie marks unreadable. "No," he whispered, wanting to move but unable to. He wanted to charge them, but he knew they were infected. He knew it was best for them to die. His eyes filled with tears was the soldiers raised their guns and fired. Their bodies fell, and soon after he watched them be incinerated. All from the same spot. He couldn't feel anything. He felt like an empty shell. He stood there for twenty minutes, through ten more firing squads, until he moved again, but only because of the screeching coming from the woods. He turned to see the fast infected rushing out of the trees, followed by at least four more. "Shit!" he yelled, starting to run. The soldiers turned and aimed. "They followed my trail? How?" The soldiers shot, but the infected dodged with an impossible speed, coming closer to the down at unfathomable speed. Silent Night ran to the edge of town, where a train was sitting, and ponies were being led off, bloody and dying. The clean ones were watching the town with worry. "Run!" he told them. "Get somewhere safe on the train and run! They're coming!" he rushed past them, avoiding the sick, and reached the front of the train. Inside, the driver was tapping his hoof nervously. "Go," he told him sternly. "We don't have time to waste. There are ones faster than us that are coming. We need to leave before they catch up." "But the other-" the driver began. "Fuck them," Silent Night said, hitting the driver. "We're all dead if we don't leave. Either some live or we all die. Your choice." The driver shook as he started the train up and it began accelerating. There were cries from the workers who were still leading sick off. In acts of desperation, they jumped into the sick holds to ride back. They picked up speed and left the town behind. Silent Night sighed in relief as they speed away, going back to the city where they would be safer. Yet, it would only make everything worse.
Their bloody teeth are gnawing at the doorDear Mama, The sky has turned red, and the clouds are becoming a sickly green and yellow. You might have noticed it, but I'd like to think the world is still untarnished for you. Lots of ponies have died from the plague, and maybe half of them are roaming the world near death, feeding on the living to spread the infection. I saw some out in the field this morning, stumbling onto my property slower than a dead cow. There are herds of 'em, bleeding and moaning in this Celestia-awful way. I'm beginning to think the sound'll kill me before they do. Mama, I don't like to think about death, but it seems now there is only that. I'm scared for myself, scared for my future. The air is damp and musty, all the wood–the house, the barn–creaks and moans. The red stains are everywhere, and the rot spreads into the world. It all leads to death. The death of the house and the barn, the death of the plagued, the death of life. I've been wishing for a deeper insight into the world my whole life. You remember. I wanted to be a scientist when I grew up, but when you got ill I was held back so much that there was no way out. It's funny how my deeper insight of life came with death. Well, not really very funny. Not really. Because life is just the road to death. Life is a journey to death, a winding road that may stop short on the way to your destination, or a raging river to take you away. Ponies like to say "The trip is about the journey, not the destination," but I think they need to learn. The journey is meaningless. Nothing we accomplish here carries over into death. When we die, we don't carry those school awards or hoofball trophies with us. They stay here to remind the other travelers of our earnings during their travels. It seems like a good name for the plague monsters. "Travelers." We don't use the word to describe the living, so why not use it on the ones nearly dead? I just heard one knock on the barn door. A wet thud, squishy with blood and flesh. The Travelers are coming to get me now. I don't know how long I can hold in here before they break in and finish the journey. Do you remember the pony I killed? Do you know him? I stabbed him when he was in my house. He came in the middle of the night, seeking shelter from the Travelers, and I thought he was one. I got him right in the eyes. When I realized he wasn't one, I had to go. The blood draws them. I felt a rush when I learned he was just a survivor. The idea of killing became invigorating. It's a shame that I didn't think of it before. SPLATTER and I brought a knife in case I decide that I need it. My mind might change, and I need to be ready for it. I wonder if this is some form of cleansing. Maybe it's the wrath of some olden god before Celestia and Luna existed. I've heard of a book where the god kills if too many stray from his teachings. That may be what our world is experiencing. A plank just broke off the door, and a few just started cracking on the wall. I can hear their cries, their agony. It hurts my head, and I keep looking at the knife wondering how long it'll take for them to break in. I think that even hell isn't as bad as this. Not nearly. Onto my previous subject, I wonder if praying to the god will appease it. Do prayers really work? I've been thinking about the usefulness of prayers. Lots of ponies pray to Celestia or Luna and still have many things go wrong, but the moment something good happens it's always more praise to them. I don't like it. In fact, I don't like the Princesses one bit. What do they do besides raise the sun and moon? Anypony could do the ruling, being an alicorn doesn't give them some form of higher authority or magical benevolence that they supposedly possess. It's all some hierarchy, and the earth ponies are at the bottom. We get the hard jobs, working long hours and doing more. The unicorns hardly ever get any difficult jobs. Any job would be easy with magic. The pegasi only get the sky jobs, and they don't have to do much besides rearrange some clouds. I'm sorry, Mama, I went off on a tangent for a moment. I hope you're okay with SPLATTER and the blood is running down the walls now. The sun is starting to set, and it's getting cold. I wish that they got cold and would stop in the night, but they'll keep at it until I'm dead with them. Their bloody teeth are gnawing at the door. It's a grating sound, and I've watched a few rip their teeth out from the effort and keep going. It's scary. It's lonely and terrifying. I want to open the door for them so I don't have to wait, but yet I'm still hinged on the idea of possible help coming to save me. It's a ridiculous thought, but it could be true, even out here in the middle of nowhere. It's gotten really dark now, and I'm only guessing that my letters in this are spaced correctly or in proper lines. If I survive till morning I will see. I feel silly knowing that I forgot a lantern. I'm always distracted in the moment. I was think about the paper and the ink and the quill that I didn't bring it with me. Remember the time when I forgot to bring Papa his pipe with the paper and he beat me? He was always so drunk. I guess I deserved it, forgetting something he so clearly told me, or maybe I'm just going crazy. Wouldn't be surprising, considering. I SPLATTER the world SPLATTER The wind is howling, and it's slightly covering up the sound of their fetid bodies snapping at the barn. There's a glimmer of moonlight coming in from where the many holes have been made, and I can see the silhouettes of their broken bodies through the gaps. They scare me, but not as much as before. I've been able to cope with my impending death. I may even be relaxed enough to sleep. SPLATTER woke up to the sound of a large crash. The door is hanging on by the hinges, and large portions of wood are missing. The moans are bloodthirsty, and I can hear the wet gurgling as they scream. Dozens of teeth litter the dirt near the planks. I have my hoof on the knife. I have decided. SPLATTER The blade is cold, comfortably cold. I run it across my fur as the door shudders. They're here. So close. I press it into my skin and draw blood. I'm going insane. I know it. The door has fallen over. The Travelers shamble in, and I hold the knife to my throat. I am writing this with shaking hooves. I want to tell you I love you, Mama. That should be the last thing on this letter before I cut my throat. The breath of the Travelers is rancid, and it gets worse as they get closer. I love you, Mama. SPLATTER Author's Note Something. I don't know. It was an idea I had. I hope you like it!
They've got sick masks on4th of Harvest They hired a cartographer yesterday. A FUCKING CARTOGRAPHER. The lab is already low on funds, and they hire a cartographer. I don't know what they need her for, but it's certainly a waste of money. Today she burst in here, saddlebags full of maps and pencils and compasses. She went into the office and worked for nine hours straight. On what, I can hardly imagine. It does seem like a bright side that I never see her, but her presence means bad things. The money being spent on her will probably make the company cut some jobs. I'm not exactly the best scientist of the bunch, so I'll most likely get the short end of the stick. I ate some fast food again today; it tasted like shit. I don't have time to cook anything, so whatever I get is what I get. I can't remember the last time I had a good meal. It might have been with my parents before college. After that I just ate when I could and that was it. Tonight I grabbed my telescope and gazed at Peregrine 825B. It still glows as bright as it did nearly two years ago, and I still am fascinated on how. I've looked into theories about light and stars, but none of them had yet to become laws. The colors are rather interesting in the body. 6th of Harvest We began working on a viral cure today. The virus has infected a small number of ponies, but it seems to be dangerous enough to require a cure this early on. Celestia herself requested funding, and we now have enough money to keep the cartographer and my job. I don't know many details on the virus, other than that it currently has a one-hundred percent mortality rate. Unicorns have been casting spells and manipulating the disease constantly since it came in, making me worry that it's worse than they let on. The sky has started turning red, and the clouds are starting to become yellow and green, almost like they're sick. The pegasi have stopped moving them, so the weather forecast has been cloudy for the past two days, and will continue to be until it goes back to normal. They got an Element of Harmony to come in and try to fix it, but even that didn't work. The Princesses have released an official statement on the matter, saying that they knew about as much information on the matter as we all do. No Discord, no Sombra, no evil villain from a thousand years past come to seek vengeance for his defeat. It is rather odd to see everypony at a loss. Usually, there's some smart unicorn or somepony that knows what it is and can get information out. I guess even one of the "end of the world" street beggars could have the answer, but I doubt it. Tonight, my telescope viewed one of the clouds, and I was repulsed by the color and texture. It reminded me of a dead body, something I had unfortunately had to see a couple of times in the lab. I hope that the issue does get fixed quickly, because having to worry about a virus and sick clouds would really hurt Equestria. 7th of Harvest The Element of Magic, Twilight Sparkle, came into the lab today. She took a look at the disease and helped us work on it. She didn't have as much experience or knowledge on the field of viral protection, but her wide scope of related knowledge helped tremendously. In the end, we managed to make a half vaccine. We tested it on a rat, and it delayed symptoms by three hours. 9th of Harvest I don't know what to think about the virus. The rat we tested the vaccine on two days ago began to eat the other rats, and the uneaten ones developed the virus as well. Twilight was appalled and we continued trying to find a cure. We hit a wall when we ran short on supply of the virus. It appears the virus causes the infected to become cannibalistic, and not only that, but it's contagious. I fear that the ponies working close to the vaccine will get infected. I may as well. I fear for my safety. 10th of Harvest When I came into work today, quarantine tape had been put all along the building. Policeponies and medical unicorns in masks were outside, writing down some information. When I approached them about the matter, they told me it was none of my concern and led me out. When I went back home, I learned that Twilight was sick from the virus, and that Celestia and Luna were trying to assist her. I am truly scared now. If the Princesses die, we will be thrown into disarray. After I showered, I felt an itch in my throat. I coughed it out in a glob of mucus and now I will sleep. 12th of Harvest Phillydelphia is being evacuated. Twilight died, and Celestia and Luna caught the sickness. I write this as I am ushered into a train. They are scanning ponies to check for signs of the disease. This journal is the only thing I brought with me since we couldn't bring our belongings. I am five away from the test station. I've coughed a few times, but it's just a cold. I just coughed out another blob of mucus, and I feel a lot better. I got past the station and I've made my way onto the train. It's rather crowded in here. The cough is back again, and this time I continue to cough mucus onto my fur. The itch in my throat won't go away. 13th of Harvest Everypony on board is coughing now. The entire train is a herd of hacking, wheezing, sick ponies. I am constantly light-headed; writing this is a chore. We received news that Celestia and Luna have died along with the rest of the Elements of Harmony. Coupled with that news, we learned that the entire village of Ponyville was wiped out. The good news is that experts in Canterlot began working on a cure in a safer environment where they could not get infected. I will have to stop for now, my hooves are beginning to bleed. 13th of Harvest, sometime late My teeth hurt, and my hooves are soaked in blood. I feel no urge to eat or drink, and the ponies around me have started keeping their distance. My inkwell ran out, so now I am using my blood to write. It's hard to keep it from smearing or dripping on the page, but I have kept it from doing so. The train is stopping now. 14th of Harvest They've dropped us off in Ponyville, where a bunch of soldiers are watching us. They've got sick masks on, so I guess we've come down with the virus. Well, now it's more like a plague. My teeth have started loosening, and a lot of other ponies have bleeding hooves. My arms are heavy and weak, so I try and write sparsely. The wind is heavy here. I noticed that. I noticed that my nose is bleeding. It's painful, but I don't care anymore. The soldiers are coming closer. Their horns are glowing, and I watch them kill all the plague victims. I don't care. I just want there to be death, only death, whether it be my own or everypony else's. I wan
Hoards of the sickAuthor's Note TOOK FOREVER. LITERALLY SINCE THE 1ST OF SEPTEMBER I AM SORRY. Hoards of the sick *The beginning chapter is a monologue, and I've removed the quotations so I don't have to replace them every time I start a new paragraph. ~~~~~ will denote the shift from monologue to actions and quotations. ~~~~~ Hello. This is Silent Night reporting from the field. I am transmitting via link crystal. Anyone there? Damn it, static. I'll keep talking in case someone picks up. I'm approaching the site, and I can already hear the noise. It's grating and damn horrible. It's this moan full of blood and pus, and it just goes straight into your head. I can imagine that a lot of ponies have died from this. Really, I don't know what to think about all of this. I can only see that it's a miracle we've survived this long without the military. Speaking of the military, I saw a few camped out near our site when I left. They didn't seem to be looking for anypony, but they may find you. Stay on guard. I've crawled out into the site now. I can see them all the way across the field. They're eating dozens of bodies. Something big happened here, and it looks like they lost. I can see somepony running away. Holy shit. Two just broke off from the group to chase him. They're fast. Too fast. Being slow was supposed to be their weak point, but there's some outrunning this stallion. He's coming closer to me and I can see that he's in the army. That means this entire war zone was the army. They all died. Maybe the ones camping out were survivors. You guys should start moving out. Fuck. They caught the stallion and ripped his limbs off. They didn't even put any effort into it, they just took 'em off. I'm gonna move somewhere else now. I can't risk being spotted by those things. They're eyes are horrible, worse than the normal ones. The sockets are empty and are oozing blood and parts of their brain. I've gotten at least fifty yards away. I can still hear them crying out from the field, but it's not so bad anymore. I found a patch of dried blood; looked like somepony met an unfortunate fate there. There are flesh pieces scattered near it, but there's a trail of crushed bushes leading to the field. How are these things even alive? If they're losing all this blood and literally having their brain fall apart, how can they keep moving and eating? Is it a parasite or something? I know we've been told it's a virus, but no virus makes a dead pony walk on after death. I heard something. It came from behind me. I've investigated and there was an infected one eating a corpse at the army campout. Now I'm worried. Are you guys there at base? Are you alive? Did you run? I don't know what to do right now. If you've left, then I have no way to find you, and what will I do? I can't be stuck out here with a bunch of infected! Alright, I'm coming back to the base. If you're there, please let me know. Please. If there's an apparent issue when I arrive, I'll go. ~~~~~ "Damn it," Silent Night muttered as he rummaged through the supplies. "They left everything behind. What happened?" The maps and link crystal sat in the same places they had been when he had left, as well as everything else in the room accept for his comrades. No blood or signs or struggle were obvious; the hut was still undamaged. He knew it was pointless to stay, so he packed up his things. He rolled his sleeping bag up and put it in his saddlebag along with food and water, as well as some of the maps. He put the link crystal in at the last second, unsure if he would need it or not. He slipped a pistol into a holster on the saddlebag. "I'm going," he said, lighting a match. The protocol was to light a fire to attract the infected so he had more time to get away. If his friends came back they'd be devoured if they hadn't already. The thought sent a pang of guilt through his heart. Were they still alive? Did they just walk out somewhere? He dropped the match. He had been trained to only expect the worst. It was a nuance of the job. Silent Night started off into the forest as the fire picked up pace on the dry wood of the hut. He tightened his lips and let out a deep breath. No turning back now. He had to find a way back home or somewhere safe. It was the only way to protect himself. The morning sun grew high as he emerged from the forest onto a small plain with a single house surrounded by multiple fences. There were animal skeletons scattered about in the fences, and holes in some where the animals had managed to dig through. The house itself was broken down and decaying. The roof sagged in, and any semblance of color it once had was eroded into oblivion. The soldier marched past and started to smell smoke. Looking back, he saw the pillar of grey rising into the sky. He turned away, going forward to the town he saw up ahead. The town looked normal, but it seemed to be dead. No sounds were coming from it, and no ponies were moving around. There was the sound of machinery approaching–a train, perhaps–but it was distant. He thought he was heading into a ghost town until he heard the gunshots. One after the other after the other after the other. The ringing echoed across the field, and he heard cries come from the town. Breaking into a sprint, he ran to the town. He burst into the town square to find a squad of military ponies in disease masks moving dead bodies into a bonfire while the soldiers reloaded their weapons as more ponies were laid down in front of them, bleeding at the mouth and hooves, only a few looking terrified, unable to scream. Amongst them was a doctor, who was merely writing in a journal of some kind, his blood providing the ink for his madness. The soldiers raised their weapons. There were some whimpers from the sane among them, and the soldiers' eyes were filled with despair and self-loathing. They pulled the triggers and the bodies fell. More let out screams. Silent Night watched as the doctor fell over, journal still in hoof, the bullet ripping through his skull and splattering his writing with illegible splotches. He ran forward, but one of the soldiers threw a hoof out. "You can't touch them," he said. "They may be contagious. We've got staff." "I want that doctor's journal," Silent Night said, pointing at the lab coat-clad stallion who was getting dragged to the fire. "The journal's burning with him," the soldier replied. "He touched it and infected it. We don't have time to read everypony's mementos." Silent Night just stepped back as more ponies were brought up. He felt like vomiting. This was the effect of the virus? It was so bad that they had to perform mass murder to exterminate it? His heart suddenly stopped as he saw his friends get brought up with the group. They had sores across their fur, and their eyes leaked blood and fluid. Cuts scored their flanks, rendering their cutie marks unreadable. "No," he whispered, wanting to move but unable to. He wanted to charge them, but he knew they were infected. He knew it was best for them to die. His eyes filled with tears was the soldiers raised their guns and fired. Their bodies fell, and soon after he watched them be incinerated. All from the same spot. He couldn't feel anything. He felt like an empty shell. He stood there for twenty minutes, through ten more firing squads, until he moved again, but only because of the screeching coming from the woods. He turned to see the fast infected rushing out of the trees, followed by at least four more. "Shit!" he yelled, starting to run. The soldiers turned and aimed. "They followed my trail? How?" The soldiers shot, but the infected dodged with an impossible speed, coming closer to the down at unfathomable speed. Silent Night ran to the edge of town, where a train was sitting, and ponies were being led off, bloody and dying. The clean ones were watching the town with worry. "Run!" he told them. "Get somewhere safe on the train and run! They're coming!" he rushed past them, avoiding the sick, and reached the front of the train. Inside, the driver was tapping his hoof nervously. "Go," he told him sternly. "We don't have time to waste. There are ones faster than us that are coming. We need to leave before they catch up." "But the other-" the driver began. "Fuck them," Silent Night said, hitting the driver. "We're all dead if we don't leave. Either some live or we all die. Your choice." The driver shook as he started the train up and it began accelerating. There were cries from the workers who were still leading sick off. In acts of desperation, they jumped into the sick holds to ride back. They picked up speed and left the town behind. Silent Night sighed in relief as they speed away, going back to the city where they would be safer. Yet, it would only make everything worse.
