Phantasmagoria

by theguysaidhi

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Human, Comedy
Length: 4902

One-shot HiE.

Sean Gall is whisked away to magical realm of Equestria where fact and fiction seem to merge.

Big thanks to my wonderful proofreader: McStuffins

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-15 01:50:03 UTC

Prologue

Unexpectedly, the veil filled with twilight; flashing anew with a promising burst of pain.

The man shielded his face with a forearm, clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. The man rubbed at them furiously to further his adjustment to the unsolicited radiance.

Needless to say, it didn't help.

A heavenly body sat in repose in the warm aquamarine sky, ripples of empyreal beauty grossly defining it.

The daunting call of field sparrows, with their vermillion plumage and sandy bills, rang through the pasture as bloated billows, drifted on high, their bellies dangling for all the world to see. Then the stench of petrichor registered and at last, the man's eyes opened and he was met by the blue yonder.

The man rose to his still trembling legs, confused.

A shy zephyr caught his face like a dainty kiss and green waved all around him under a quiet breeze. Looking down, the man found himself reigning over a legion of submissive daffodils. They fluttered and bowed and kissed at his pants leg.

Bleared trees were the last to welcome the benign visitor, swishing and swooshing their nimble leaves in a sibilating hospitality. Had any of them the ability, they'd willingly have expressed delight in their meeting him.

The never-ending landscape that lay before him invoked within him an immediate state of bliss and a brief onset of nausea. And under that lay an overwhelming expectancy.

Yet, the view was nonetheless spectacular all around. All around...

Was there really nothing around?

Certainly it was enough to relieve the initial shock of suddenly surfacing in the middle of an apparent forest, but...

An unsure stillness sat in the air.

The man grabbed at his shirt and then there was a pause in the action. His hands circled the sides of his head, sliding over enough until his palms filled his swamped eyes. With a stiff moan, he drug them down his milk chocolate countenance and exhaled roughly.

Composed, he began to scan the pasture for movement and glimpsed two approaching dots; one thin and the other slightly bulkier. He took a step back in trepidation as he peered into the distance, nearly tripping back.

Noiselessly, the two ambled in the direction of the irregular form whom had sprung up in front of their very eyes. And then it turned around and began to march away. The shadows kept their deliberate gait.

The man had expected to hear their approach, the final rasps of flattening grass. Though he was convinced that he'd just imagined the pair. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the two figures break into a full gallop. His instincts kicked into high gear and he bolted into the trees. The two forms hastened their canter, every so often shortening the gap between themselves. Their hooves rapped collectively against the ground.

The man's heartbeat matched their passion as he frantically analyzed the two options that lay ahead. To his left, were a neatly organized column of apple trees, all which seem to bare the ripe fruit severed by an endless fence, and to his right, the barren glebe. The man took a double take; a beacon of hope goading him. Peeking between the crowded trees and rampant vegetation was the top of an amaranthine barn. He made an abrupt left into the upcoming fence. The man threw himself over it, nearly falling in a pile of mud. He regained his footing, albeit a new found ache, and carried on into the wilderness, dodging trees and jumping over exposed roots.

He looked over his shoulder again.

The large creature jumped over, but crashed tragically into the mud pit. The shorter figure, however, was more gifted on its feet, bounding over the fence uncannily.

Whatever he was dealing with was intent on capturing him.

He ducked behind a row of bare trees and hid. Unclear if he'd been seen, he peeked out from behind the cover to find that the thing had subsequently stopped.

As the figure briefly returned to its companion, the man took his chance and slunk along the shadows of the fruitless grove. A violet roof adorned with a pierced red apple broke through the prickly foliage; he was getting closer now.

When he arrived at the farm fence, he sloppily teetered over the pale planks and limpt to refuge. He nearly keeled over when he crashed against a faded barn door. Wiping his face with an arm, he let himself slide to the ground and soak up the morsel of shade provided. His swollen, crimson tongue dangled from the maw like that of a long-haired canine confined to the sweltering dog house, lusting the comforts of a wavering breeze or refreshment of a lap of its water bowl.

Although, the humidity didn't help either.

The man threw a hand over his mouth, cupping a pocket of dry air for himself as he peeked around the corner. One of the creatures now stood in front of the barn, the sun continuing to disguise his huntsman as a sleek shadow.

The clouds which had observed the spectacle passed overhead, imprisoning the sun's relentless rays and divulging the figure until what stood before him was an amusing sight: A horse. A very small horse.

His eyes, initially resting upon the horse's vibrant orange coat unexpectedly wandered to its other features.

A partially subdued aurelian mane trickled down the pony's shoulders from the large sable Stetson resting atop its head. Indistinct dots were embedded on the side of its rump and in between its backside was a low, bushy tail. As it turned and waited for the other silhouette, it unconsciously swished its tail to the side.

He turned from the pony's revealing derriere.

"Jesus."

He reluctantly poked out again, this time squinting his eyes as she whinnied over to a red horse. They casually gathered in front of the barn to the human's dismay.

"Where’d it go?" The stallion asked.

"I dunno. Lost it in the trees." The mare replied.

The man clapped another hand over his gaping mouth in disbelief.

The cobs spoke in a spotty vernacular drawled over by an overbearing southern accent which dabbled on the thin line of the cliché.

If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought he had landed in a harmless cartoon.

But, what was the point in mulling over the triviality of the situation? Time was of the essence.

What he needed was a distraction, yet as he searched his options ran scarce. What was within arm's reach was loose sod and dark pebbles and to his far left, a patch of disorganized hay somewhat out of reach from behind the barn. He stared blankly at the hay, barely noticing an unusual red lump.

The man dropped to his stomach and pulled himself towards the edge of the barn. His heart raced as he extended an arm over to the mess of hay. He picked meticulously feeling for the scarlet oddity. And then he felt something, crawling, along the tip of his fingers. He flicked it quickly and pulled the object out slowly causing the hay to rustle a bit.

He inched back to his hiding place, awaiting the sound of closing footsteps, and then the surprised faces of his seekers. Fortunately for him, they would never come.

The man gazed at the monstrosity: a rotten apple most likely left on the ground by one of the equines. His hands scour the fruit for a solid grip; yet, the browning apple was so incredibly soft that even the slightest pressure caused the rancid fruit to cave in. He gave up and dug his fingers into the putrid smelling pulp, took aim at the tree grove, and chucked it as far in as he could.

"How'd we lo—" The sound of an apple cracking against rugged tree bark caught Applejack off guard, she turned her head, "What’n the hay was that?"

"What was what?" The stallion questioned in his monotonous tone.

"You ain't hear it?"

"Eeenope." The stallion shook his head. "Where'd it come from?" Applejack directed him to the expansive stretch of trees from which they had emerged.

Applejack tugged at his foreleg. “Now wait a sec, big brother!” She leaned into his ear. The conversation look to be one-sided.

Finally, they must have come to consensus. "You just stay put, I'll be back!" Big Macintosh said. Applejack nodded and the steed strolled out of view, presumably in the direction of the noise.  Applejack heeded her brother's instructions and guarded the barn door.

“Darn you.”

"I know you’re around here somewhere, sugar-cube! We ain’t here to hurt ya’, we just wanna talk. Come on out, now.” she said, sporting a tired, but affable air in her tone.

The man was glued to the barn, barely breathing.

"This better not be another one of yer games, Pinkie. I ain't in the mood.” she concluded with a lick of disdain. Grass crunched beneath her hooves and the man knew it was time to move on, hugging the barn he slowly wriggled towards the opposite wall. He slithered along the succeeding wall of the barn, eventually sneaking all the way to the front. He could see the stallion now; he was farther than where the actual apple had landed. He opened the door and took one final look at the beautiful landscape and slipped inside, making sure to close the door.

Inside the barn was an overbearing darkness and pungent aftertaste. The stale scent of hay and animal droppings clogged his nostrils and nearly made him gag. He covered his nose with his shirt to ward off the noxious fumes and for a short time, he was stuck like this. Breathing in short, rapid gasps. But once the odor permeated the fibers of his shirt and inundated his nasal cavity, he conceded. The man removed the tent over his nose and inhaled the intoxicating aroma with the dignity he still had left.

There had been no stalls, only stacks of hay piled on top of each other in various places and positions. The barn had few windows and thankfully their wooden shutters were closed. Through their folded cracks bounced ample beams of sunlight that gave the barn a misty air. Perched high was a ledge too tall for him to reach. He looked at a pile of stacked hay, pondering if it wouldn't immediately be crushed under his weight.

As he took in his enclosure, a long awaited plan formulated in his thick skull: with the combined cover of darkness and randomly strewn bales of thick hay he could, in theory, build a short, inconspicuous barrier. He noisily rushed to stack the bales on top of each other. Two on the bottom, two on top until the whole collection was arranged. Finally, when the human was pleased with his work, he hid behind one and waited.

A blade of sunlight slipped through the closed barn doors.

Soon, reason took the place of terror and he began to mull over an escape route. There were two obstacles to get through; one was canvassing bushes, and the other was quite literally around the corner.

And even if they did leave him be, where would he go?

While deep in thought, the shred of light that lit the barn disappeared. The room was nearly pitch black. He slunk low to the ground.

Then there came a familiar sound.

A frighteningly familiar sound.

As the barn door creaked open, his breathing became shallow.

“Yer’ mighty good at this, huh?” Applejack bellowed, mocking him as she took a few steps in. The door closed behind her returning the barn to its perpetual darkness.

The man could hear the soft clicks of her hooves tapping against the cold floor, coming closer and closer until they rested in front of his bale.

“You ain’t in no trouble, sugar-cube. What'cha hiding for?” She stood in front for a moment; the longest minute of his life, then another, and another. He didn't move a muscle, closing his eyes for good measure.

Then the mare walked back to the barn door, grabbing a relaxed rope hanging from the door frame with her mouth. "Alright now, joke’s over. You got the next five seconds to come on out or I'm gonna hog tie ya'. One..." He paid no attention to her warning. “Two…” Strangely, she hadn't checked his haystack, possibly due to the fact that she was unable to recognize they had shifted from the immense lack of light or simple forgetfulness. “Three…” He could care less. “Four…” In his eyes, he was home free. “Five!” He only hoped that she would just move on. After another five minutes of shuffling around and provoking silence, the mare stomped the ground in frustration. "Shoot! He ain't even here!"

A wave of relief washed over him. He let out an involuntary loud sigh and then grabbed his mouth as quickly as he'd opened it.

"Gotcha!" The mare exclaimed as her hooves clacked in front of the bale.

It looked as if there would be no easy way out of this one. Was there even a way out? Maybe he could just come out and take his chances with the equine? What serious threat did she present? She was short and had a relatively compact frame.

And with that thought an ingenious plan came to mind.

He somewhat still had an element of surprise as she knew nothing about him. If he could rush her, grab the rope, and overpower her long enough to tie her, he had a chance to get out of this unscathed. When he thought about it this way, he knew he'd have more luck capturing her then he did explaining how he came to be in the middle of a field. Besides, who knew what those things would do with him?

"Now. C-come from back there, real nice and slow like." She sheepishly demanded.

This was now or never.

Without warning, he threw the top layer of hay at her and pounced. The mare's hat fell to the ground as the bushel collided with her face. “The h—” The man hung to the pony for dear life, grabbing her by the neck and waist. The pony tried bucking him off, but the man pressed himself into her rump until she could barely move her leg. "Buck off!" He wrapped a leg around hers as the other dragged along the floor. "Let me go! Let me go!" They danced in a lopsided circle, before finally her legs gave way. "Get the buck off me!"

The man ripped the rope from her mouth and replaced it with a hand to quiet her. "Be quiet!" He barked. A muffled obscenity came from the pony's mouth. He nearly lost his grip as she writhed and kicked. He tried to get on top of her, however, the mare delivered a short kick to his stomach, knocking him back into the hay. He howled in pain, grabbing at his gut.

The pony crawled towards the barn door. Liberating sunshine beamed down as she forced the doors open. A warm breeze welcomed her back from the hell that was that barn.

Yet, a large shadow rapidly grew behind her. She sprung to her hooves, fueled by her most primal instinct: fear.

Regardless, the human was upon her now.

“Where do ya' think you're going?”

He gripped her tail, jerking it back. "No, no, no!" She tried to hold herself in place, but he'd been too strong. "S-somepony help me! Please!" She pleaded as she was hauled back inside.

The door closed for the final time.

This time, the man drug her to the back of the barn. "You thought you were just gonna—kick me and get away with it? Hold still!" In place of an expected kick the mare suddenly launched upwards and bit down on his right hand. “Argh! Let go!” He grabbed her by the muzzle and tried prying it open. "Shoot! Let go you little..." He put his knee into her chest as he yanked, but it only intensified his agony. He tried jamming a finger in her nose; the mare snorted it and bit down until his flesh began to shriek. He smacked Applejack's curled snout. "Open your mouth!" The warning seemed futile.

The man seized her by the throat and squeezed until he felt her throat heave. Her mouth opened and he withdrew his fingers before she clamp down again. He released her for a split second and clenched her shoulders.

"He—" He forced her head to the ground and took a seat on her back.

"Now just sit there and stop resisting! Gimme your hands!" He snatched up her forelegs. “I’m sorry, mister. Just let me go and I won’t say a word to anypony! I Suwannee!” She bawled as her forelegs were wrapped together. The mare tried flailing them until he pressed two corrective fingers into her neck causing the pony to wriggle around. “I Suwannee!” He went back to work on the knot, fastening, and tightening it as best he could.

“Suwannee all you want, you little runt. You brought this on yourself.” The mare’s large yellow tail began to swat him in a vain attempt to deter him. "There's no use in fighting it anymore. It's over." Still sitting on top of her, he could feel her rigid frame shake uncontrollably, expecting the worst to come at any moment.

He lowered her erect tail with a hand, nearly jumping up when he felt a warm liquid against his fingertips. Disregarding his initial thoughts, he came to the conclusion that what he was feeling was a damp barn floor until the mysterious fluid saturated his back.

"Did you just..." He placed a finger at the base of her tail and let it slip down the pony's backside, her back slowly arched as he made his way down to her pulsating aperture. His fingers came back saturated. “Oh. Dude. Are you serious right now?" He rubbed his fingers together and his eye twitched. "Did you really have to go and piss yourself?" Applejack lowered her head in shame. "Ugh," he rolled his eyes, continuing with a sigh, "what’d you think I was gonna do, huh? Eat you?" The man stood up and placed his hands around her sides to pick her up. "If you do that again, I'm rubbing your little nose in it."

After finding a drier area to place her and five uneventful minutes had passed, a strained guilt coursed through his veins.

Making her cry was one thing, but making some...thing piss themselves? That was pretty low. Truthfully, it was the only thing that kept him from leaving her. Whether he cared to admit it or not, the pony's painful wails, the embodiment of sheer helplessness, bothered him. “Shh! I'm trying to think.” He rubbed at his throbbing forehead.

Morally, he was split: he could just leave her bound and helpless and hope that someone would find her, at least then could he excuse himself of any responsibility. Or, he could just release her and hope she wouldn't attack him instantly. A wet sensation ran against his rugged palm. A lone tear slid down her flushed cheek. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him, insisting he chose the latter. He couldn't tell if this was his moral compass trying to point him in the right direction or if he actually felt bad for a weeping horse.

He assessed the mess he had made, coming to a sound conclusion: if he was going to free her, he needed to calm her down. "Okay, come on now you're a tough little horse aren't you? I ain't gonna mess with you no more than I have to."

The pony winced as he wiped a tear. "Don't..."

He quickly withdrew his hand. “Quit your protesting', this ain't the same hand I touched you with before." The mare looked relieved by the news. "Look, I know, I went a little overboard with this tying you up thing... but I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't bit me. You wouldn't know it, but that stuff hurts, pal.” Deep down he knew his justification wouldn't sit right in her panic-stricken mind.

At least it was better than nothing.

The man gazed into the murky, green depths of her soul. Deep down in the abyss he could see something similar to himself. Sadness, disappointment, or regret? He wasn't too sure, yet whatever it was spoke to him with a familiarity that only a long lost relative could give forth.

And then it hit him. “I'm sorry." He felt like he was going to choke up. He dispelled it with a guttural hem. "Hey there, girl.” He stroked her furry cheek. “Guess what? I'm gonna let you go." The mare’s eyes went stupid with excitement, darting between the door and the creature that would grant her freedom. "Yep, that’s right! I’m gonna let you go and then we can just pretend this never happened, okay? But while I do that, you’re going to have to be quiet. Very quiet. I don’t think I can stress that enough." There was noticeable silence in the barn. "And hey, if you can stay quiet I’ll get you a treat." It was unsettling. "You still there, hon?"

"Yes.” she deadpanned.

"Oh good, cause I’m gonna cut those ropes and I don’t want anybody bursting in here and getting the wrong idea.” He laughed nervously.

“J-Just get me out of this rope...”

“Okay, okay. I'll be right back. Think you could hang in there for me?"

The mare nodded and the man sprung into action. He gave the enclosure a thorough look, but it soon became clear that nothing in the barn could help them. If he was going to have any luck finding anything, outside was his best bet. He eyed his struggling prisoner. “Hey, hon. I can’t find anything in here. I’m gonna try outside, okay? Don’t worry it shouldn't take me long.” She was silent, it was safe to assume that she was probably imagining how she would kill him once she was free. He brushed it off and went for the barn door. The bright sun flooded into the barn and then the door closed back.

And for once, it was calm inside of the suffocating blackness.

At first Applejack had been reluctant to believe the stranger, but what was the purpose of lying now? And if he was going to do anything, wouldn't he have done it by now? Rightfully so, it was difficult to tell what her captor was thinking, especially after the sudden change in hostility. Nevertheless, there was no time to dwell on the thought process of an alien's mind, it offered freedom and like any sensible pony, Applejack welcomed it with open forelegs.

He would come back, let her go, and she would buck him good! Yep, that's what she would do. When he came back of course.

Funny, how time tends to slow down when you're being held captive; it had only been five tedious minutes since his departure and Applejack was already gnawing at the restraining rope, leaving tasteless strands of rope hair in her mouth. She groaned in frustration. What was taking him so long?

"Uh, sir? Can you hear me?" There hadn't been a name given, it was the best she could do. "Are ya' out there? Sir?" The wind moaned back. She had to keep it together, he had said he'd come back and she just had to trust him.

It was all she could do.

Time slowed to a complete stop for the foolhardy mare. One minute felt like ten, two minutes felt like twenty, minute by minute time was reduced by this painful process, and after what seemed like an hour the pony became frantic. Ten agonizing minutes had passed and the silence was becoming unbearable.

“Oh! When I get my hooves on that snake, I’ll strangle him!” And on that note, Applejack’s brother came to mind. Where was he? They'd devised a plan and now he was nowhere to be found! “So much for that.” She exhaled.

As the hours rolled on and the walls of the barn had finally boxed her in, Applejack began to sniff with a single question ravaging her mind: why? Why would he lie? Couldn't he have just spared her the false aspirations? Couldn't he have just...just... lied?

Applejack knew he would never come back. She let out a sorrowful wail, tears filling her eyes. Applejack didn't want to be alone anymore, what she needed was somebody by her side. Her brother, her little sister, anypony... even him. Ponies hated being alone. It was unnatural.

Then came a knock from outside the barn. "Help! I'm in the barn." The door opened quickly and closed slow.

The man hurried to her side; two small objects bulged from his pocket.

"I'm gonna pick you up now, okay?" The pony nodded and he got in front of her, picking her up by the flank. She was hefty, but with his hands melting into her thin layer of adorable fat he could tell it was mostly muscle. She wrapped her legs around him as best she could before he threw her over his right shoulder. "I got ya’, I got ya’. Don't worry." He moved her to the middle of the floor and crouched down. “Alright,” he wiped away the streams that still covered her face, "before we get started, I'd like to introduce myself." He brushed her hair back and smiled. “My name is Sean. Sean Gall." he dug in his left pocket, and produced a jagged black rock. “And yeah, I know you’re mad at me for taking so long. Scratch that. You’re pissed. Probably hate me too, but just know that I would've never left you if I had a choice."

“I...d-don't hate you. You know what you did was wrong."

He gave her an appreciative pat. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

"Don't mention it." The mare’s eyes fell on the rock and she proceeded to whine when he reached for her hooves.

Sean took a deep breath. "I still want to help you, but if you don’t want me to, I won’t. It’s your decision." Applejack shook her head and shut her eyes. “Hey there, pal.” Sean gathered her bound hooves and rubbed them with his thumbs. The pony’s eyes immediately opened, revealing the tenderness of a troubled stranger. "I came back, didn't I? Just trust me this one last time. Please."

Sean slowly inched the rock to Applejack making sure to keep it in her view, this time she was more receptive. The makeshift edge made quick work of the ropes, snapping with every stroke. “There, there. Ain’t nothin’ you gotta go sweating over.” Sean said, slipping the rock into his pocket. He removed her defective bonds. "You're fine." he whispered, brushing his palm against one of her ears. "See?" Sean flipped the orange equine on her back, as he set her down she grabbed his hand. "I think this belongs to you."

He placed her hat on her stomach and pulled his hand away.

Suddenly, the pony wrapped her forelegs around Sean’s neck, pulling him close. He remained calm, staring blankly into the rush of her mane. “Are you okay, hon? You’re not gonna strangle me are you?”

"I'm thinking about it." she replied roughly, her mane giving off the distinct scent of apples. "Thank you for coming back, Sean."

“Whatever you say, girl.” And with those simple words their embrace ended, she shoved him away.

"My name ain’t girl. It’s Applejack."

"Oh? Well, excuse me, Missy." Applejack shoved him again. "Relax, will ya'? Geez, I meant nothing by it." She shot him a dirty look as he scooted away, pulling his pants up. With his morality restored, he looked to the promising barn door. "I'm sure it’s starting to get dark now...”

"Aren't ya'll forgettin' something?" Applejack asked unhurriedly, she'd been eyeing his pocket for some time and only now did he notice it.

"Smart girl.” He dug through his pocket and produced a shiny red apple. "Guess you could consider it part of my apology."

Applejack inspected the apple, giving it a cautionary sniff. “What ya' do to it?”

“Nothing.”

She pushed it away with a hoof. “You lie like a dirty ol' cur dog! Take a bite of it first.”

“Really?” She raised a speculative eyebrow, Sean sighed and took a small bite, chewing the off-putting fruit in his mouth. His lips contorted in disgust. “Now do you believe me?” Applejack nodded. “Now you.” An elusive grin crept along her face, Sean was happy to see her finally smile. He gagged and motioned her over towards the apple in his hand. “You still want this thing, right?”

“Take a good mouthful of that side just to be safe. Ya' know, proof and such.”

Sean swallowed the lump of apple he’d been holding on to. “Ugh, dang it, Applejack.” He took another bite and continued his assortment of whimsical faces. “Now do you want some?”

She shook her head with an amused sneer. “Nope! Now come on, let’s get you outta here.” Sean stood up and headed towards the door, quickly cracking it open for her. "Thank you kindly."

"Don't mention it."