" A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to slowly be born."

---Antoine de saint-exupery.

Darkness and chaos. For a second, everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion—the car lurches, my hands locked in a white-knuckle grip on the wheel. My heart hammers in my ears, drowning out everything except the screech of tires and the crunch of metal. Did I just—?

I blink, trying to piece together what just happened. One moment, the road was clear, and then... that dragon. I remember yanking the wheel, feeling the car fishtail as it skidded sideways, the muddy ground doing me no favors. There was that awful screech from my brake clamps, the spin, and then—impact. Not a full-on collision, but enough to sweep the dragon’s legs out from under it.

The car’s front end catches the dragon’s limbs, sweeping them out from under it. The beast flipped mid-air, its wings flapping wildly before it crashes into the ground with a bone-rattling thud. The car jerks sideways, skidding until it finally shudders to a stop. For a moment, I’m just sitting there, breathless and stunned.

Silence. The kind that makes your skin crawl. The forest is dark and still, shrouded in a deep, oppressive quiet. Even the engine’s low growl feels like an intrusion in the heavy air. Somewhere close by, the dragon groans, the sound echoing through the trees like a distant, ominous warning. I exhale shakily and pat the steering wheel. "Good boy, Roy. Hang in there."

"...fuck, was that really a dragon just now?" I thought to myself.

I glance up and around to see if I could spot the dragon and make sure I wasn't hallucinating, but I saw something a tad more definitive—Trixie.

The Great and Powerful Trixie, standing there like she just leapt out of my TV screen. She’s staring at me, eyes wide with fear, her whole body trembling. My brain races to catch up, and for a second, I wonder if I’m still dreaming. There’s no way she’s real. There’s no way any of this is real.

I reach to pinch my arm, but my fingers stop as a sharp ache radiates from my chest, right where the seatbelt jolted into me. Nothing feels broken, but it’s going to be sore in the morning. The pain feels all too real. The smell of dank forest, mud, and the ache in my ribs feel real. And Trixie—she’s still there, watching me like I’m the next monster she’s going to have to face.

"This can’t be happening," I mutter, trying to steady myself. But when I look again, she hasn’t vanished. She’s right there, frozen in place.

"H-hey! Are you real?" I shout, louder this time, my voice cracking with a mix of desperation and disbelief. "GET ME OUT OF HERE! HELP ME, PLEASE!"

*Third person POV*

Trixie’s heart races, her breath quick and shallow as she stares at the monstrous thing that crashed into the dragon.

"AAAAHHHHHH-MPH!" The scream rips from her throat, and she clamps a hoof over her mouth to stifle it, her eyes darting between the unconscious dragon and the hulking, black beast with glowing eyes that sits only a few meters away. If she didn’t wet herself in fear during the dragon’s attack, she was dangerously close now.

The creature emits a constant, low growl that rumbles through the air. It sounds almost alive, like it’s snarling. But then there’s something else—a voice, desperate and pleading, coming from somewhere inside the beast.

"GET ME OUT OF HERE! HELP ME, PLEASE!"

Trixie shivers, the voice sending a chill down her spine. "...It's a carnivore. Nonononono. This is bad, this is very, very bad," she thinks, her legs trembling. "It ate some poor pony, and now it’s going to eat me! OH MY GOOOOODEEEESSS!!"

The forest around her feels like it’s holding its breath, and for a moment, everything is deathly still. The growling slows to a stop, leaving nothing but the eerie silence of the Everfree.

"Please don't eat me, please don't eat me, please don't eat me," she whimpers under her breath, her voice barely a whisper. She shrinks back, her eyes locked on the black metal beast, hoping—praying—that it doesn’t make a move toward her.

***Edgar's POV***

I take a moment to check myself for injuries. There’s a warm, metallic taste in my mouth—probably bit my lip when we hit. My ribs ache like hell, but nothing feels broken. I press a little, testing the pain.

"AH! Okay, don’t wanna do that again."

It’s definitely going to hurt tomorrow, but it could’ve been worse. If it wasn’t for my seatbelt, I’d probably be dealing with a few broken ribs right now. Safety first, kiddos.

I try to unbuckle my seatbelt, but it’s stuck tight. No matter how hard I tug, it refuses to budge. Great. My heart is racing. I mean, yeah, the crash was bad, but this? This is on another level. Trixie—Trixie, a cartoon character—is standing right in front of me. Flesh, fur, big eyes, silly hat, everything. She’s real, and she’s staring right at me. It’s like she stepped out of my TV screen, and I can’t wrap my head around it. Part of me is screaming that none of this makes any sense. But the pain in my ribs and the taste of blood in my mouth are real enough. Okay, okay, just focus. One thing at a time.

She’s still standing there, staring at the car like it’s the scariest thing she’s ever seen. Her eyes are wide, and she’s trembling. I can see it even from here. Stay calm, Edgar. If she’s real, and everything here feels real, then... just take it one step at a time. I take a deep breath and turn off the engine. The low growl dies out, and the forest goes back to its eerie silence. It’s unsettling—too quiet, like the whole forest is holding its breath.

"Hey, uh..." I start, and my voice comes out shakier than I want it to. I swallow, trying to steady myself. "It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. I’m just... stuck." I pause, realizing how surreal this must sound, even to me. "Can you—uh—can you help me get out?"

Trixie’s ears twitch at the sound of my voice, and the trembling slows. She seems less afraid, but her eyes are still locked on the car, and I can’t tell if it’s curiosity or fear—or maybe both. She takes a tentative step forward. "What is this thing?" she asks, her voice quieter, but still cautious.

Okay, progress. I try to remember that she’s not used to this kind of stuff. "It’s a carriage," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I know it looks weird, but I’m inside, and I’m kinda stuck here. Could you—could you come closer and help me out?"

She takes a few steps forward, still cautious. When she gets close enough to see me clearly through the window, her eyes widen. "That’s... you?" she says, tilting her head, like she’s struggling to make sense of what she’s seeing. There’s fear there, sure, but also a curiosity that’s starting to show through.

I nod, and it feels awkward, like I’m trying too hard to act normal when everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control. "Yeah, it’s me. I’m Edgar—a human." I manage a shaky smile, though my nerves are all over the place. Her expression stays confused. "Look, I know I probably look strange to you, but I swear I’m not dangerous. I just really need your help right now."

She stops just outside the door, studying me with a skeptical look. "What in Tartarus are you supposed to be?" she asks, like she’s looking at something from a sideshow.

Well that was fucking r00d.

...At least she’s talking now. I let out a small, relieved breath. "Well, at least we’re past the whole "monster" stage," I mutter, mostly to myself.

"My name is Edgar. Edgar Jorgensen. I am a human. I like puppies, sourdough bread, long walks on the beach, and not being stuck here." I say, trying to match Trixie's tone with a snide delivery. I can’t help but smirk when she rolls her eyes, but before she can throw back a retort, a deep, rumbling voice interrupts us.

"Ugh, anyone get the cutie mark of that Alicorn that hit me?"

If there is a God, he really fucking hates me.

The voice belongs to the red dragon—the one I knocked over with my car. He’s slowly getting back on his feet. Okay, so now I’ve got an eight-foot, fire-breathing lizard who already tried to eat Trixie, and he’s pissed. The car didn’t kill him; it just knocked the wind out of him, and maybe disoriented him for a moment. It’s not like you see a dragon do a one-and-a-half mid-air somersault every day—it looked like a failed skate trick from old MTV clips. Great.

"Trixie, get in the car if you want to live," I whisper urgently.

"You don’t have to tell Trixie twice!" She snaps. She scrambles in through my side, her hooves pressing painfully into my already sore legs as she clambers over to the passenger seat. It stings, but she’s surprisingly light, coming up to about my waist. As soon as she’s in, I shut the door, praying the dragon stays distracted. He’s hunched over, wheezing and coughing, clearly still recovering from the landing that knocked him out earlier.

Trixie leans close, whispering, "Okay, Trixie is inside. What are you going to do now?"

…Oh, crap. I really should start planning ahead more. "Uhhhh, give me a minute? I’m trying to think." But before I can figure anything out, Trixie decides to weigh in.

"What? You mean to tell me you don’t have a plan?!?" she hisses, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Well excuse me for not being a trained specialist in ‘escaping dragons in a car with a damsel in distress’! I’m kinda new to this, and I don’t want to die, so please—quiet," I whisper back, trying to keep my voice low.

She clenches her jaw, but then her expression shifts from anger to desperation. "Trixie almost died while fighting that dragon, and now she’s in some black metal contraption with a hairless, mutant diamond dog!" She shakes her head, and her voice starts to crack. "And to top it all off, I’m probably going to die here... sniffle... alone and forgotten."

I blink, taken aback by her shift. "Hey, we’re not gonna die. We just need a plan. Let’s just—"

"You don’t get it!" she snaps, her eyes starting to water as her bravado fades. "I’ve... sniff... always wanted to be famous." Her voice softens as she looks down. "I dreamt of being the most powerful magician in Equestria. Ponies would cheer for me, and I wouldn’t have to perform for scraps in front of ponies who don’t appreciate my talents." She wipes at her eyes, but the tears keep coming. "I know I’ve made mistakes... I just wanted a chance to make things right... sniffle... to prove that I could be better."

There’s a pause, and then she whispers, "But now... I don’t think I’ll get that chance."

Hnnng...

Okay, this is heavy. One second, she’s frustrated and yelling, and the next, she’s spilling her dreams and regrets. It’s... a lot. I barely know her, and yet, seeing her like this makes everything feel so complicated. I don’t know whether to feel bad for her or stay focused on the fact that there’s a giant, angry lizard outside. But before I can figure out what to say, she does something incredibly stupid.

"It’s not fair! I DESERVE BETTER!" she screams, and in a sudden fit of frustration, she slams her hooves into the dashboard. The airbag deploys instantly, smacking her in the face. Her muffled shouts turn into panicked flailing as she tries to push the airbag down. "AAAAHHH! WHAT IN CELESTIA’S—WHY?!?"

The noise catches the dragon’s attention, and his eyes lock onto the car. At first, he looks menacing, his gaze full of rage as he starts moving toward us. I watch, holding my breath, until something seems off—he’s moving slower than before. It takes me a moment, but then I realize... he’s limping.

He’s still coming, but his right leg drags a bit, his steps uneven. Did he twist something during that mid-air somersault? It’s like watching a bad skate crash on MTV—except the guy limping toward me is a fire-breathing dragon. I glance at Trixie, who’s just now recovering from her airbag mishap. Her eyes go wide as she realizes what she’s done. The dragon keeps limping forward, and the glare on his face makes it clear that he’s determined to get to us, injury or not.

What the hell am I doing here? I just wanted to go home and get ready for my Aikido class, but Noooooooo—suddenly, I’m living out some cliché fanfiction nightmare. And now, the dragon’s heading our way, smoke trailing from his nostrils, limping and pissed off.

The crimson dragon inches closer, each step a painful limp, but his eyes burn with anger. I scan the area, desperately trying to think of an escape route, but I’m still stuck, and if Trixie could outrun him, she would’ve done so already.

Towering at a lanky eight feet tall, he limped like he was pacing back and forth in front of the car, his eyes blazing with fury. His frame is all wiry muscle and sharp angles—more gangly than the bulky behemoth I’d expect from a fire-breathing monster. He’s definitely tall, but there’s a thinness to him, like he hasn’t filled out yet. His claws flex as he eyes the car’s hood, and I notice one claw looks swollen, the other stiff—probably banged up from that crash landing. He’s limping, his movements awkward and unsteady as he tries to regain his composure.

"So, you think you can steal a dragon’s meal and get away with it?" the dragon snarls, his voice rough as he focuses on the car’s hood. His claws flex, but it’s clear he’s struggling—his movements are stiff, and one claw seems swollen. Probably landed on it wrong during that flip. His whole posture screams injured, but he’s trying to put on a brave face. "Your hunger can’t ever be quenched, can it You...You-you tub of lard!?!"

Wait, is he talking to the car?

He pulls his fist back, grits his teeth, and slams it into the bumper. The car barely dents, but the dragon yelps, jerking his claw back as if he’d hit solid rock. He cradles it to his chest, hissing in pain. I watch as his eyes dart to us, like he’s trying to gauge our reaction. When all he gets is silence, his eyes narrow, and he puffs up his chest, forcing himself to look angry instead of hurt.

"You think you’re tough, huh? You freakin' FRICK!" he shouts, voice wobbling between anger and desperation. The insult lands with all the force of a playground tantrum, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from busting out laughing.

Oh man, is this Dingleberry serious?

Relief floods through me. "Oh, thank God. He doesn’t know we’re inside." I keep my voice low. "Okay, this is good."

I glance at Trixie, who looks just as confused as I feel, her ears twitching as she tries to figure out if she should be scared or not.

The dragon stares at the car, his face turning red—part from rage, part from embarrassment. He takes a shaky breath, his eyes watering as he holds back tears. He’s losing it, and he knows it. "You’re gonna learn," he shrieks, his voice climbing to a high-pitched whine. "You’re gonna learn... that your actions have CONseQUENCES!"

That’s it—I lose it. I let out a half-snort, half-laugh, and have to quickly turn it into a cough, hoping he didn’t notice. Trixie shoots me a look, a mix of disbelief and amusement crossing her face. The dragon’s face crumples further, and he stomps his good foot, slipping a bit in the mud again. He’s fighting back tears, and at this point, he looks less like a terrifying dragon and more like a kid who didn’t get his way.

...

"OH, SO YOU THINK THAT'S FUNNY? I'M GOING TO BURN YOU TO CINDERS, YOU WIENERBISCUIT!!!" The dragon bellows, fury pouring from his eyes as he takes in a deep breath. Flames start building in his throat, and the sight of his chest expanding makes my own heart race. I grip the wheel instinctively, knowing this could be the end of us.

The dragon unleashes a torrent of fire, and the world outside becomes a blaze of orange and red. The flames wash over the car, and I brace myself, but Roy, my trusty Mustang, holds up like a champ. The heat is intense, but the flames pass over the car, which acts like a protective shell.

"Hey, Trixie... we're not dead yet," I say, a grin slowly spreading across my face. Sure, this can change any moment, but not dying can be a pretty exhilarating feeling. But Trixie doesn’t seem nearly as excited.

"That still doesn’t change the fact that we have a very vexed dragon outside," Trixie mutters, her tone dry. Way to be a downer, Trixie. She sighs, rubbing her temple. "Ugh, I swear, if somepony could actually get us out alive, I would probably suck his—" she trails off, shaking her head as she realizes what she’s saying. "Never mind, forget it." It’s clearly an attempt at humor to comfort herself, but it falls flat.

I let out a small laugh anyway, then take another look over the car, searching for inspiration. My eyes roam over Roy’s black frame, now singed on the outside but holding strong. The sturdy bumper, the headlights, and even the untouched dashboard all seem like tiny pieces of hope. Come on, think! If there’s anything that could get us out of this mess...

"Wait a minute." I look at Trixie, my eyes lighting up as an idea begins to form. "Trixie, I just thought of a plan."

She blinks, looking skeptical. "What plan?" she asks, her tone cautious.

"I need you to shoot off some of your firework magic—big, flashy, impressive stuff—outside the windows when I rev up the engine. And when I finish talking to the dragon, I need you to scream like your life depends on it." I grin, feeling a bit of mischief creep into my voice.

Trixie’s eyes narrow, and she opens her mouth to speak. "How did you even know about my firewo—" She cuts herself off with a shake of her head. "Never mind. You really think that’s going to work?" She looks at me doubtfully. "The plan seems... very bare."

I nod. "Yeah, trust me. As dumb as this dragon seems, he doesn’t know we’re inside yet. If we make it look like the car’s a monster, we might be able to scare him off. Otherwise, if he realizes we’re in here, we’re toast." I give her a hopeful look. "Just trust me—I’m an actor."

"An actor?" she deadpans, her expression unamused. "So, a professional liar, then."

"Exactly," I reply with a grin. "And that means I know how to sell it—if it’s believable enough, he’ll buy it. We just need to make a big enough scene."

The dragon is practically heaving now, exhausted and coughing from all the fire-breathing. You’ve got to give him credit for persistence, even if he’s clearly nursing an injury. His movements are awkward and unsteady, like he’s on his last legs. For a moment, I almost feel bad for him—almost. But, hey, you can’t not respect the grind. This guy’s really putting in the effort, even when he’s got nothing left in the tank.

I glance at Trixie, who’s watching the dragon with a mix of fear and... pity? Her expression softens for a moment as she whispers, "He’s hurt."

I blink. "You feel sorry for it too?" I ask, incredulous. "Five seconds ago, you were terrified."

She sighs. "I'm not trying to. It’s still a dragon, but... he looks so pathetic. Like some big, angry foal throwing a fit."

I stifle a laugh, but then a thought crosses my mind. "So... should we give him a hug or something?"

Trixie’s eyes snap to me, deadpan. "Buck no!" She facehoofs, then looks at me thoughtfully. "But... maybe your plan will work..."

I roll down the windows and turn on the lights, the beams piercing through the dense fog. Smoke curls up from the hood, making the headlights glow like eerie, otherworldly eyes. The engine sputters, but it still holds on. Okay, only one shot at this. Let’s make it count. I take a deep breath and let out the most monstrous roar I can muster.

"YOUR WORST NIIIIIGHTMARE!!!!!!!!" I bellow, my voice echoing through the darkness of the Everfree. The instant the words leave my mouth, I floor the gas pedal, and the engine responds with a deep, guttural growl. I keep honking the horn, the sound blaring in the silence. As I do, Trixie lets out a scream that could make a banshee shiver, while firing off a dazzling barrage of red, orange, and purple fireworks from her horn.

The dragon’s eyes widen as the fireworks explode around the car, painting the foggy air in a cascade of light and smoke. It staggers back, its mouth hanging open in shock.

Now, imagine you’re an apex predator. You’re about to feast on a helpless mare when this metal monster knocks you down. You try to fight back, but it’s not even phased. And then, all of a sudden, you realize the entire time you were fucking with it...it was sleeping.

It wakes up—eyes glowing, roaring in fury, with explosions and fire spewing from every side. You'd be scared too, right?

The dragon recoils, its eyes filled with terror. It stumbles backward, letting out a shriek that echoes through the trees. It takes one last terrified look at us—well, at the "monster"—before it turns tail and runs, limping as it disappears into the shadows of the forest.

"HA! It worked!" I shout as the dragon vanishes, my laughter bursting out in a mix of relief and disbelief. The engine sputters and dies right after, smoke still drifting from the hood. But it doesn’t matter; we pulled it off.

Trixie and I look at each other, and for a second, there’s just silence. Then, we both start laughing—deep, hysterical laughter that echoes through the forest. "Haha, we’re alive!"

"Heheheheh! HAHAHA! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" It goes on for a solid five minutes, and I don’t think either of us will forget it any time soon. Even the dragon probably won’t.

Once the laughter dies down, Trixie looks over at me and notices the seatbelt still holding me in place. She smirks, tilting her head. "Need help getting out of that? I think I have a knife in my carriage."

I pause, my smile fading as I hear something faint in the background. Music—familiar music. I look around, confused.

Huh, that’s peculiar.

"Do you hear that music, Trixie?" I ask, looking at her. She swivels her ears, listening intently for a moment before shaking her head.

"No. The Great and Powerful Trixie thinks you’re just hysterical, but you are excused since you did assist Trixie in fending off the dragon."

Maybe she's right. Almost as soon as it came, it ended.

"Must be my imagination...or hysteria" I agreed, since I am talking to Trixie. "Never mind, Trixie. I’d love some help out of here."

Trixie trots back to her carriage. When she reaches the door, she stops and turns, staring at me for a moment. Her face shifts from contemplation to a small, almost-smile that quickly fades into a frown, her cheeks tinted a light pink.

"Just so we’re clear," she calls out, her voice rising in a mix of embarrassment and defiance, "You did not save my life! We save each other. The Great and Powerful Trixie has no obligations to suck...—well, you know!"

I can’t help but chuckle as she scrambles back inside. "Well, this has been an interesting day."

Author's Note

Originally posted: 7th of October, 2014.
Rewritten: 22nd of October, 2024(as my earlier writing does not reflect my current writing style in later chapters). I'll be making edits off and on.

So tell me what you all think so far. Sorry for the fast pace guys. I know that it still needs some polishing, but I wanna know what you guys think about the story in general and how it is going. Then I will work on making everything more detailed and paced.

I also have an idea on what some of your comments are going to be like.
"why is Edgar so calm about this?"
"when do we get the sex?"
"why is this author so weeaboo?"

Well I have I haven't touched on certain parts for reasons that will be explained in future chapters.

Please give me any critiques you can, though. I want this story to be at least slightly enjoyable. Thanks again everyone.