Chapter OneView OnlineThe Saddest StoryChapter OneIt was not his goal initially, to kill everypony. His house was filled with a foreboding darkness, one that would normally shiver a pony to the core. Creaks and clicks were heard from all around, as mice skittered around in an oblivious stupor. There was absolutely no furniture in the building. All there was was a chair, and a table. It was all he’d ever needed for the last two years. The floor and a blanket was more than enough. The walls were discolored and cold-blooded, hiding some kind of hostility towards the pony that mistreated such lovely work created so long ago. What was once painted beautifully on the walls was no more, ruined by blotches of the unknown--as well as mildew and cracks. The floors were always stale and bitter, and cold no matter the weather outdoors. It immediately bit at hooves the moment contact was made. The entire room smelled of urine. Underneath the stallion’s desk was a recent puddle. He wasn’t able to get off his chair, so he made do with his seat. The same went with his excrement, but that pile could be find directly behind him. This was extremely common. His panting was quick and precise, as if one small wrong intake of breath could mean the end of his life. His tongue was dry and mimicked sand, no matter how many times he licked his mouth. The stallion didn’t care, though. He had more interesting things at hoof. Bloodshot eyes painted his features, the look of an almost rabid dog. Black bags fell underneath said eyes. He had given up on sleep so long ago. There was just no need for it. His future, Equestria’s future, was at the tip of his hooves. The stallion was a complete mess. His dull grey coat was matted down, dirty and smudged and sticky. He couldn’t remember the last time he showered. It was obviously weeks. It was the same for the condition of his teeth: no memory or their last cleanse. He had been forced to smell the vileness that was his own mouth for a while now. In fact, his teeth were in pain. He paid no attention though. He had blocked out everything by then, even the dull throbbing in his mouth. His short mane was previously white. There was no way that it would ever become the bright beacon that it once was. His mane and tail were now too dirty--far too damaged--to ever go back to its natural self, even if he were to shower. The top of his head now resembled algae underneath the water. It even felt the same. So close, he told himself. Over and over again, like a demented metronome. I’m so close. Tonight. Tonight. I’ll be finished by tonight. Please, oh please. Tonight. Tonight. His mind was frazzled, an electrical outlet with too many plugs--sparks flying here and there. It was truly a sight to behold. In front of the stallion was three things: One, was a pizza box. Obviously, everything was eaten, even the crumbs. Instead of actually getting something to eat, he’d simply had food delivered. He had left the door open, allowing the delivery-pony access inside. The stallion never left his seat. Never. Not in the longest time. The second thing on top of the desk was a singular light. It radiated a bright beam of hope into the stallion’s face, and his work. It was a guide to him, and the world around him of which he failed to even acknowledge. The lamp kept him alive. There was one more thing on the desk, and it was the sole reason why the stallion had refused to leave: a typewriter. With every passing moment, a click and a clack rang throughout the empty house. It was music to his ears by now, even though it would have drove a normal pony insane. It was loud and obnoxious, but he didn’t mind. Nothing could destroy him now, unfortunately. Weeks. Weeks he had been sitting in that chairs. Weeks, his mind had been running a mile a minute. Weeks, he had been running himself ragged. Weeks, he had been working on his story. He hadn’t spoke ever since he began. He hadn’t done anything besides write. He just couldn’t stop. Every so often, he’d look over to his large stack of paper located to the right of the desk, sitting dangerously close to a puddle. Every time he pissed, he had to shift his body away from the papers and the other puddles for fear of making it larger--for fear of ruining all of his hard work. But now, on the 24th day, he was nearing a close. He was almost constantly shivering, and his body had already began to deplete itself of life. He was so hungry, so thirsty. But there was nothing he could do. When he was done, he could get something to eat or drink. But for that moment, until he was done, he was going deal with it. But… he was getting closer. His goal was within sight. He was experiencing an illusional euphoria that he couldn’t even explain. It rivaled a rush of adrenaline, but it was based directly off his mentally broken mind. Tonight, tonight! He kept saying, like a choir was shouting at him in his head. It will be finished tonight! Months of planning the idea. Weeks of writing it out. Days of excruciating pain and self-inflicted torture. But, it was all worth it. His mind was fractured by success and dreams. But, he still didn’t mean to kill anypony. It was four o’clock in the morning when the clicking of the typewriter finally came to a halt. For the first time in ages, the house returned to its natural silence. The stallion could actually hear the crickets chirp outside, and the early morning songbirds that devoured them. His mouth was so dry that it hurt even more. With every word he spoke, it ripped his throat. He didn’t care. He just didn’t care enough. “It’s… done. Done! Done!” A grotesque smile wrapped itself around his face, damaged teeth showing in the light of the lamp. “Done! Done, done, done!” he shouted, manically. There was a joyful feeling, an almost childish one, that opened itself up inside of him. He jumped up from the chair, barely missing his droppings, and backed into the middle of the room. 798 pages, and they were all his! A part of his book! His book! His dream to be an author was now a reality. Now, ponies from far and wide would know of who he was, and what he had just done. His multi-week struggle would eventually pay off, that much he knew. He was going to be famous! He was going to make a name for himself! He was going to make everypony near him proud. He laughed like a scientific genius. Though, it was more with relief than sickness. The inner workings behind dementia were illogical and irrational, but that didn’t stop the stallion. He was too happy, too excited. His eyes shining brighter than the words he had just written, he grabbed the gigantic stack of literature in his hooves almost comically. He knew where he next destination was. He needed to go make copies, lots of them. He was going to show this story to everyone. He was going to make the world acknowledge his existence. He was very much alive, and he was very much looking forward to praise. He ran out the door, towards the nearest printing press he could find. On the top of that very first page, was the title of that upcoming book. In big bolded letters, it read: “The Saddest Story”. Twilight Sparkle was eating cereal when the epidemic first began. It was a Monday, and not in a good way either. The day was dreary, and there was a depressing overcast that shrouded that town of Ponyville is a haze that dignified a nap and a blanket. However, that was not going to stop Twilight. Even though she had just woken up, she simply didn’t feel like succumbing to the ways of the world. Besides, she wasn’t all that sleepy. Twilight levitated another spoonful to her mouth, taking a brief delight as she felt the sensation of nourishment sliding down her throat. For some reason, she was absolutely starved. She didn’t have all too much on her list of things to do today. In fact, today was most likely going to end up being one of her rare days to relax. Though she didn’t entirely feel like wasting the day away, maybe her friends could provide some entertainment for a while. Surely, somepony’s up to something somewhere. With Spike at the store fetching groceries, Twilight felt a slight pang of loneliness vibrate though her bones. A tiny regret was knocking at her brain, telling her she should have went. Though, she just felt like she couldn’t. She was unable to describe it, but it was more like a silly hunch than an actual desire. Another bite, another spoonful gone. Just what was she going to do today? Oddly, she didn’t feel all that hungry anymore. Getting up from her table with a heaving sigh, she magically dumped the remnants of her breakfast in the sink. She’d wash dishes later. But for now, it could wait. For some reason, she just felt sad. No rhyme or reason why, but everypony had those moments where the mind craved for something that wasn’t obtainable at the moment. Spike would be back shortly, then she’d perk up for sure. Spike almost always knew what to say. There was a knock at the door, one that jarred Twilight out of her silly train of thought. Somepony was there, outside. But what for? “Coming!” Twilight called. A little more eagerly than necessary, she made her way towards the door. The dishes made a clattering noise in the sink the moment Twilight magically let go of them, and it made a rather large noise that echoed throughout the library. Twilight opened the door, using her hooves. “Oh,” Twilight exclaimed, as she was met with a none-too-familiar face. “Hello, Prose,” she said as an interested smile adorned her lips. A unicorn mare smiled back at Twilight. Eyes that mimicked poison shone behind her reading glasses. “Haha, surprised to see me?” “Whoops, not at all! I forgot you were coming today!” How had she forgotten? It was the second Monday of the month. Of course. Prose was the librarian back in Canterlot--Twilight’s old fortress. Ponyville’s shipments of new books had stopped coming annually, but Canterlot’s didn’t. Luckily, Prose was a very nice mare, and took time out of her day to deliver extra unnecessary copies of books that their library already had. There was a large box on Prose’s back, neatly wrapped with a silver bow. Prose’s light blue body shimmered, even in the poor weather. Twilight opened up the door a little wider when Prose’s mouth did the same. “Please, come in!” Prose didn't hesitate. She trotted inside of the library. Twilight had always like Prose for some kind of odd reason. Maybe it was the strange, mature vibe that she tended to give off--even though they were the same age--as well as the fact that she was extremely bright and kind. She had read all of Twilight’s favorite books as well. What else were librarians supposed to do? When Twilight and Prose had left off last month, they had both been reading the latest book by Shutterwell. Twilight had long finished it, and had been dying to discuss it with somepony. As soon as Prose entered the library, she let out a mighty groan. The box on her back was placed gently on the ground next to her. “Whew,” she said. “Heavier than you’d expect, those books.” Straight curtains of her brown mane hung downwards, fluttering with every shake of her head. Twilight had always wondered why Prose didn’t use magic when carrying those books, but she never gotten a clear answer. “Truer words…” Twilight said, purposefully letting the words drift on. “I’m surprised your back isn’t killing you.” “Oh, don’t worry.” She reached behind her, and gently rubbed her spine with a pained grimace. “It definitely is. I took the train here, so… not like I’ve really been carrying them for long. I’ll be alright.” Prose paused, another silence bringing the room together. “Where’s Spike?” Twilight enveloped her horn in magic, and got to work untying the bow. Deep inside, she was childishly excited to look at this month’s new shipment of books. Normally, there would be at least seven or more of them. For some reason, the shipment looked a little larger than usual. “He’s at the store running errands for me,” Twilight said. “That’s too bad,” Prose said, biting the inside of her mouth. Her voice was almost always eerily calm and melancholic, despite her actual emotions on her face. “Or, perhaps he remembered me coming and decided to run for the hills.” “That is also a valid guess,” Twilight answered with a playful smile. “I’m only kidding. Spike thinks you’re the coolest.” The bow was proving difficult to remove, so Prose got down to help manually. “Haha. True. So what’s new with you? Been a month since we last talked. I’m sure something interesting happened.” When Prose looked down a little further, her glasses fell. She pushed them up just as the bow decided to finally give way. Twilight almost immediately started to open the box. “As of recent? It’s been really quiet. Been reading and studying, passing the time.” She snuck a brief look at her friend. “We still need to discuss Shutterwell, from last time.” Prose’s ears perked upwards, and a grin formed on her face, as if she had just gotten the most devious plan. Twilight knew that that wasn’t the case, and that Prose was only playing around. “You mean Yonder Bay? I’ve read that three times already since then. Don’t even get me started on that book.” The box opened. Twilight looked inside, while Prose didn’t. The librarian from Canterlot had been the one to pack the books initially. She already knew what was inside. What really surprised Twilight was that the books were in mint condition. Untouched by anypony, fresh off the shelves. That, and most of the books were just recently released to the public. “Wow, Prose! You’re really donating these? These books are phenomenal!” Prose smiled warmly. “It’s no problem. We got more copies than we need--figured the ponies here would appreciate it,” she said modestly. Twilight shook her head. “I don’t think you understand! Some of these books… I’ve heard residents of Ponyville talking about them for a while. They’ll be thrilled!” Twilight took out a few books and read their titles out loud. The first ones she grasped with her magic floated around her field of vision. She hardly needed to turn her head to read the titles. “Remembering Star Child.” Next book. “Descension.” Next book. “Of Lilies and Labyrinths.” There appeared to be more books in the box, but Twilight didn’t look at them yet. She set the three she already noted to the side, and stood up. “Thanks a bunch, Prose. It means a lot.” Prose simply waved her off with a dismissive hoof. “I just said, Twilight, it’s no big deal. Enjoy the books, really.” Twilight received a warm smile. “Most of these books are actually created at Popu-Palace Printing Co., and you know how their books can take a beating. These’ll last you a while.” There was a slight pause. “Besides, I’ve already read all the books in this box. You have some catching up to do.” “And how,” Twilight declared. She couldn’t explain just how much the donations of books meant to her. Believe it or not, but most of the Ponyville populace had a thing for reading. Twilight had actually read a statistic somewhere that claimed that Ponyville was the third most literate town/city in Equestria, next to Manehatten and Canterlot--of course. “I can’t wait to get started. Rainbow Dash was telling me that she needed a new series to delve into.” “Well, looks like I did my job, then.” Prose stood up, and adjusted her glasses once again. They didn’t appear like they wanted to stay on her face. “So, Shutterwell? I can’t stay forever. I left the library unattended.” To most ponies, this wasn't the biggest of deals. However, The Canterlot Library is fairly popular, with ponies coming from all over at different times of the day just to grab a good book. Twilight agreed immediately. “Oh, really? Well, I’m going to go grab my copy of the book, and set some tea on the stove. Then we can get started.” Twilight stood up from her position on the floor, and Prose gave her an accepting nod. “I’ll be right back,” she added. With an almost filly-like smile on her face, she bounded for the kitchen. It was only once in a blue moon that she got the opportunity to have an intelligent conversation with somepony surrounding literature, especially a book. Sure, Ponyville enjoyed reading, but not so much sitting down and discussing. With Twilight’s smile just as large as her hopes, she entered the kitchen. Prose simply chuckled a nostalgic laugh, and turned back to her books on the floor and in the box. Prose enjoyed Twilight’s presence, that was for sure. She felt that Twilight and her read books for different purposes: Twilight for learning and Prose for recreational and conversational reasons. But, every time that Prose and Twilight got together, it was like a meeting of the minds. Two different sides of the spectrum coming together. She turned to look at the clock placed gingerly above the doorway. 10:34 AM. What was she talking about? She still had time to kill. After all, her train didn’t pull into town until noon, and she wouldn’t be carrying all those books on her back. It’d only take her a few minutes to get there. Prose could hear the sound of a clanging pot coming from the kitchen as Twilight began to set up the tea. To her, the library looked the exact same from when she came over last month. Though, that lone fact caused her to become slightly restless. How could she spend her time as she waited? That question was obvious. Little did Twilight know that Prose had packed her Shutterwell book as well. Though, it was at the bottom of the box, initially packed first when Prose was gathering the donated books. Also, this was done so that Prose could warn Twilight that that book was actually hers, and not to be given to the library. She turned back to the large cardboard box, and let out a soft breath of air. Considering that Prose’s magic abilities were extremely lackluster, the unicorn sat back down and rummaged through the box of books with her hooves. Some of these books she was very leery to donate. You could never tell if a book were to become super popular until after the fact. She’d need every copy that she could get if that were the case. But she knew that her hunch would be correct. After all, she’d already read the books, and to her they’re not really best-seller material. With another sigh, she pulled out book after book. She gave brief reviews when she tossed it aside. Poorly written... great read.. didn’t enjoy... oh--this one is now on my favorite’s list. Hmmm… She was nearing the bottom of the box when something struck her as odd. She had reached the Shutterwell book. Weirdly, it was the second book from the bottom. “Huh?” she said. She was positive that the book she was going to need was placed underneath the rest. Prose had a spectacular memory, so she could actually recall her doing it. What’s the other book? With her eyebrow cocked, she removed the Shutterwell novel from the box and set it aside. Not hesitating for a mere moment, she nabbed the book and held it in the light. She pushed the box away entirely, letting the book set on the floor in front of her. The book itself was massive--much bigger than your average recreational book. In fact, it could have easily been mistaken for a tome. The book was obviously not published by a company. In fact, she could tell by the lack of--well, anything, that the book was not put together in the standard way. The entire book looked hastily put together, but it remained intact. The book was a bright white, shining even though there was absolutely no light coming into to room. It was untainted, and unmarked. It was a very, very clean book. In big, black, bold letters, the title was plastered across the front. It appeared to be hoofwritten in permanent marker. THE SADDEST STORY For the first time in a while, Prose had found a book that she had never heard of before. Normally, she’d be excited, eager even, to get lost in a new book for a few hours. In fact, this book appeared long enough for her to take an entire day to read it. That being said, she was a fast reader. But, what threw her off was the fact that she had absolutely no idea where this book came from, or how it even got to be in the box in the first place. She read the title of the book again, this time out loud. The amateurly designed book peaked her interest, but she was still skeptical. Upon further inspection which consisted of a full turn of the book, she wasn’t even able to figure out what the read was even about. What kind of book was released into the public without even telling readers what it’s about? The description that’s usually located on the back was usually what drives somepony to read said book in the first place. She felt off. In fact, she had felt off the moment she had picked up the large white book in her hooves. But, she couldn’t just ignore it. Her dedication to literature had already made her decision on her course of action. There was never a book that Prose had come across that she didn’t read. Biting the inside of her cheek, and adjusting her glasses, she opened the book. She began reading. Meanwhile, Twilight Sparkle was pouring her tea into tiny cups with a grand smile on her face. Her magic had enveloped the kettle pot, as well as her book. She had so many thought provoking questions to ask Prose. When two ponies read the same book, surely somepony got something out of it the other did not. While Shutterwell was a fantastic author whose name would go down in history, the book raised the questions that she couldn’t answer on her own. Twilight set the cups of tea on the kitchen table, where she already had plans to hold the actual two-pony book club. “Prose? I got the tea in the kitchen,” she called. Her head turned back to the table with perked ears that anticipated Prose’s response. She took a cautionary sip of tea. Strangely enough, there was no noise coming from the other room. Twilight paused. Did she not hear? Unlikely, considering that the kitchen was only fifteen feet away from Prose and the box. She called again. “Hello? Prose?” Twilight furrowed her brow. Not wishing to be kept waiting, she carefully set down her cup of tea by her preferred seat and walked towards the doorway that lead to the foyer. What she saw scared the living wits out of her, and would etch itself in her mind forever. Prose was standing in the middle of the room. Her purple eyes were wide open and staring into oblivion. Her pupils had shrunk to the size of peas--in fact, Twilight couldn’t see them at all. It was as if there were just whites behind those circular rimmed reading glasses. Books were scattered all over the floor in a heaping mess. A white one was opened, right in front of her. What made Twilight’s heart beat a mile a minute was that Prose was crying--blood. It poured down her face, down her neck, down her chest. It dripped onto the floor, creating a small puddle of bloody tears. It absolutely covered the area underneath her eyes, leaving her forehead and mane completely untouched. “P-Prose!” Twilight blurted out without thinking. She took a step back, her own eyes wide open for a completely different reason. She could feel her own legs weakening with every passing moment she stared into Prose’s bleeding eyes. Twilight was caught so completely off guard, it took her a moment to collect her bearings and think straight. It was something out of a horror movie, to her. With Twilight’s shriek, Prose’s stare shifted. Now, Twilight was the target behind the bloody eyes. When Prose’s head moved, so did her mane. Some of her brown curtains pressed against the side of her face and chest, dying it a scarlet red. Her mouth parted just slightly, as if she had just realized that Twilight had just arrived. Prose said absolutely nothing, and simply gawked at her “new” visitor. The sun outside was never there to begin with, but Twilight could have sworn that the room had just gotten a whole lot darker. Unable to speak, unable to form words, the two just goggled each other--one in absolute terror, the other with indifference. “Twilight…” Prose groaned. Her voice was so very low. She sounded like she like she would had she just screamed her voice away. She spoke in a slow and pathetic manner, as if she was singing an anthem of woe. “W-What happened? Are you alright?” Twilight paused for a moment. “You’re bleeding.” Twilight had no idea why she stated the obvious. Perhaps it was so could not only get the information through to Prose, but to herself as well. The mare in question said absolutely nothing. She simply stared at Twilight sadly. Her frown was growing larger as time went on. After a full minute of panic coursing through Twilight’s veins, it left. “Prose, please, you’re hurt. Your eyes… they…” Twilight couldn’t even bring herself to put it into words. “Come on, let’s go to the hospital-” “I’m so sad.” Twilight stopped. Prose echoed through the quiet library air. Her voice was beginning to sound different, as if she was under some sort of trance. She sounded eerily calm given the situation. But what was that Twilight heard? She was sad? “I… I…” Twilight didn’t even know how to respond to something like that. “Something’s wrong… come on, Prose. We need to get you some help.” Twilight took a step back… when Prose took one step diagonally. “I’m just so sad, Twilight.” While also becoming slightly closer to Twilight, Prose was also in the path of one of her many bookshelves. Prose took another step. It seemed apparent that she’d reach the large bookcase before she’d reach Twilight. “Prose, wait. I… I need to think. W-What’s going on here?” Twilight’s head was beginning to hurt. What had happened? She’d left Prose alone for five solid minutes, and now she was bleeding and… sad. So sad. It didn’t make sense, and Twilight knew this. Twilight just needed a moment to think about the situation before she took action. “Sad. Adjective. Definition: feeling or showing sorrow; unhappy,” Another step towards the bookcase. Why was she going over there? Was she going to switch directions when she realized that she couldn’t go any further? For Twilight, everything was happening a little too fast for comfort. She couldn’t think as clearly as she’d like. “Example: ‘They looked at me with sad eyes, ones that tore into my very soul.’ Synonyms--sorrowful, dejected, depressed, downcast-” Closer and closer did Prose become to the bookcase. “Why are you… talking like that?” Though this was not the most important question, it was the only one that Twilight was able to ask. All the other questions were knotted and tied with others, becoming one big mess of words and emotions that she just couldn’t untangle without a minute to think. Prose kept going. “--Miserable, down, despondent, glum, gloomy, forlorn, crestfallen, inconsolable.” Prose had reached the bookcase. Fortunately, the blood falling from her eyes created a trail from where she was standing by the box not only two minutes ago. She reared up the bookcase, facing Twilight directly. “Prose! What’s going on! Please, stop!” Twilight begged. Mustering up all of her courage, she took a step forward. Prose readied her hind legs. Twilight realized way too late what Prose was doing. “I’m just so sad, Twilight.” With a mighty kick, one that surprised even Twilight with its power, Prose connected her hind legs with the base of the bookcase. A loud CRACK was heard. The bookcase slammed back against the wall. Then it wobbled. “Prose, look out!” Twilight ran towards her friend, but it was still too late. The bookcase that Prose had chosen to topple was the only one that was not connected to the wall. Additionally, it harbored some of the heavier books that Twilight owned, not too mention that the bookcase itself was at least more than a hundred pounds on its own. Twilight had tried to catch her friend--tried enveloping her horn and moving Prose out of the way, but it was in vain. With a creak and a groan, the bookcase fell forward. Right towards Prose. With a ferocious CRASH, Prose was crushed by the immense weight of Twilight’s books, as well as the bookcase. Books flew everywhere, just barely missing Twilight’s own head as she tried to shield herself from the destruction only a few inches away. The bookcase shattered in places--splintered. There was sharp pieces of wood littered about. Twilight, when it was all said and done, stared open mouthed. Tears flowed down her face as images of Prose floated through her mind. In front of her very eyes, Prose had just killed herself. Twilight didn’t need to check. There was no point. Twilight wasn’t sure if the blood on the floor was from Prose’s eyes just moments ago, or not. “Prose…” Twilight said softly, before falling down onto her rump. Her lips quivered. Her mind went blank. The inside of the Ponyville Library had once again turned to silence.
Chapter TwoView OnlineThe Saddest StoryChapter TwoCheerilee was having a terrible morning so far. And the migraine that was forming was threatening to make it ten times worse. “Settle down, children!” Cheerilee stated, calmly. Her voice was full of a motherly kindness that she had learned how to master over years upon years of being an educator. However, her eyes foretold a different story--one that told tales consisting of years of stress and sleepless nights simply because of her job. Of course, she wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it occasionally had the tendency to cause her to become a complete wreck. First off all, her alarm had failed to awaken her that morning. She didn’t wake up until seven. To her, that was unacceptable, because school started at eight, and she always got to work early so that way she could watch over some of the students who had conflicting schedules with their parents, and had to go to class early. Normally, if Cheerilee got there later than usual, the students would end up having to wait outside. Cheerilee just couldn’t let that happen. After getting up, grabbing her things, and bolting out the door, the schoolteacher had just barely made it to work on time. In all of her years of teaching, she had never once woken up late before today. The professional side of her was telling her she was a gigantic screw up, but she tried to ignore it. She wasn’t going to let some silly broken alarm ruin her day. She was there now, surrounded by loving students who cared for her. Everything could only get better. As time began to rear it’s ugly head near 11 AM, Cheerilee’s Elementary School class’ students were just coming in from their recess. It wasn’t the best day outside--with the massive overcast and a chilly September breeze rolling through every now and then--but even still the students managed to get the most out of their free time. Most of the students came back sweaty, winded, and laughing up a storm from what must have been a great game of hoofball or tag. Cheerilee had always appreciated that about her special group of students, and how they tended to make the best out of whatever situation they had. When they grew up, they would realize. However, Cheerilee often thought that her students would be hers forever. She never really envisioned her students growing up, going to Middle School someday. Cheerilee always thought about the future, but not exactly her future with her students. She always lived in the moment around them. Though, she never realized it. The students all sat down in their assigned seats. There were fifteen chairs for fifteen students. Three rows of five seats, all assigned methodically are carefully by Cheerilee. She started doing a head count, as usual after recess. In the back right corner of the room, was Diamond Tiara. She was chatting with Silver Spoon, who was located directly in front of her. The two were certainly a nuisance at times, but Cheerilee had managed to get used to it. The two best friends were talking loudly about something that Cheerilee wasn’t able to hear from her position in the room, but Diamond Tiara had a mischievous grin on her face that Cheerilee wasn’t sure she liked. Silver Spoon giggled in response, the light at the top of the room reflecting off of her glasses. The two other ponies in Diamond Tiara’s row, Snips and Snails, were also talking to each other. The room was filled with Snails’ guffaws and dimwitted chortles, as well as one of Snips’ wonderful jokes. Normally, Snips sat nervously in his seat. Since he was the closest colt to Diamond Tiara--as well as the door--he got picked on a lot. Perhaps it was why he confided in Snails so much. They had a nice friendship, one that Cheerilee herself could have used as a filly. She continued her headcount. Rumble was lying back in his seat with a bored look on his face. He looked minutes away from falling asleep, and sometimes his eyes would even shut. Twist, who was sitting next to him in the fourth row, only stared at him, as if she was debating whether or not to prod the colt away, or risk getting in trouble. Button mash, seated in the exact middle of the room, was playing some of hoofheld game that he really wasn’t allowed to have in the first place. Video games were only allowed during recess, but Cheerilee just couldn’t bring herself to take it away from him. It wasn’t like he was harming anypony. Besides, he had enough sense to turn it off when Cheerilee began teaching. His game beeped and booped frequently. Seated on both sides of Button Mash were Archer and Dinky. The former was a new student, a smaller blue filly who had just moved into town two weeks ago. She was minding her own, sitting patiently with a pencil and paper on her desk and waiting for Cheerilee to begin. Dinky was reading a book, quietly. In the second row, was Truffles--a chubby colt who usually wasn’t as hyped up as today. He was usually a very well-behaved student. He was talking excitedly with the other schoolchildren in his row--Featherweight, a skinny colt with a camera wrapped around his neck, and Zipporwhill, a brown filly that were decent friends with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Though, she wasn’t as big of a distraction. But then, something struck Cheerilee as weird. It was with the entirety of the first row. There were no students. The first row was completely empty. “Children? Where are Scootaloo, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle?” Cheerilee asked, loudly and hastily. Surely, she hadn’t lost her three of her students? The students were too busy talking amongst themselves to hear. Cheerilee was beginning to panic, and the rest of her students not listening to her right then was something she couldn’t accept. “Children!” She spoke louder than before. Even still, the class didn’t calm down. She let out a nervous moan, and was about to shout when Archer raised her hoof. “Yes, Archer?” Archer, being new in town, was very shy and soft-spoken. So when she first began talking, Cheerilee was unable to hear, or even read her lips. “I cannot hear you, Archer, please speak up,” Cheerilee asked kindly, a small smile forming on her face. Archer spoke a little louder, and Cheerilee had to pay very close attention to decipher what she was trying to say. “I think they went home…” Archer almost whispered. Her eyes were soft, and faced towards her lap. “I think they went home for a little while.” Surprisingly, Diamond Tiara was also listening. The room was steadily beginning to calm down. The devilish filly turned to Silver Spoon, and giggled. It was as if they had some sort of inside joke that was so funny, they just couldn’t hold it in. “They had an accident with a puddle of mud. Whoops!” More laughter. Cheerilee felt slightly stupid. She had been informed of this thirty minutes ago, right at the beginning of recess. The three of her students had walked up to her, covered in mud. According to them, they were “minding their own business when somepony pushed them in”. Cheerilee had a sneaking suspicion of who it was, but didn’t act upon it due to the fact that she wasn’t absolute. The three gathered their things, and went home for a bit to clean up. They’d be back soon. Cheerilee couldn’t believe that she’d forgot. She must’ve been out of it more so than she originally thought. She made a mental note to go home and rest for a while, after work. The classroom was exceptionally dark that morning. Not a trace of sun was found. Therefore, Cheerilee’s magenta coat looked darker than ever. “Right…” Cheerilee said. They’d be back shortly. In the meantime, she still had twelve students to teach. “And would anypony happen to know who was responsible for pushing them into said puddle?” Silver Spoon shut up. Diamond Tiara didn’t see why she needed to. “Pffft!” she scoffed. “I’m sure those three losers got clumsy and fell in.” Button Mash rolled his eyes, his nose still pointed towards his video game. Perhaps Button Mash saw what actually happened, and chose to stay silent. He shut off his game and put it in his backpack for safekeeping. “Come on, Diamond Tiara, we all know it was you,” groaned Rumble, who had given up trying to sleep. His voice was sluggish and soft, a sign of his drowsiness. Sitting diagonally from Diamond, he didn’t even turn around or even attempt to speak up when he said what he did. “It was not!” Diamond Tiara squeaked, eyes wide with aggression. “Tell them, Silver Spoon,” Diamond Tiara said, turning towards her friend. Silver Spoon turned towards Cheerilee with pleading eyes, as if she was trying to say “I don’t want to get involved or in trouble more than I already am”. Cheerilee stepped in. “Okay, that’s enough. We’ll discuss who did what after class,” Cheerilee muttered. Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. Silver Spoon sat back in her seat with a quiet, relieved sigh. It was almost 11:15, which meant it was coming close to their daily reading time. “For now, class is in session!” Cheerilee slapped an excited smile on her face. After all, reading was her favorite time of the day. It gave her time to sit back with a good book, as well as introduce the mighty power of literature to her students. Normally, they all read as one, and it made Cheerilee’s heart flutter in response--like they were all making some sort of connection through the written arts. Behind Cheerilee’s large desk, were fifteen copies of the book she picked out for this week. “For When The Heart Falls” was a great chapter book for children to read, albeit it’s very long. While the students squirmed in their seats, Cheerilee could hear a few whisper amongst themselves. She was pretty sure it was Snips and Snails, who were probably already getting started trying to guess what the book was. She opened the cabinet underneath her desk, and stopped. Huh? she thought, What’s this? The cabinet was stocked full of copies of a book that Cheerilee had never seen before--a large white tome with black lettering that sent a chill through her spine. It was very difficult, even for the earth pony mare, to pick up more than a few copies at the one time. She read the title out loud. “The Saddest Story…?” “What was that, Ms. Cheerilee?” called Featherweight with a high pitched voice. Cheerilee shook her head. “Uhm, nothing,” the teacher said absently. Where had this book come from? Where were the other copies of the book she had picked out? She was positive that she had gotten the intended books from the library yesterday. She even came back to the schoolhouse to stash them away. Did somepony take them? Cheerilee shook her head. No way. She knew her students well. None of them were thieves. Troublemakers? At times. But not thieves. “T-Today students, we’re going to read a novel called…” Cheerilee had already forgotten the title. She picked up a book, and placed it upon the desk. While she was at it, she started grabbing as many as she could, until she hit twelve. “The… err, The Saddest Story. By…” Cheerilee paused for a moment to look at the author. “--By Poetic Pen,” she finished. She had never heard of that author. Obviously, the students hadn’t either. They gave each other confused glances. Normally they read books that everypony else had read at some point in time. Best-sellers, award winners, and stories that they genuinely liked. Dinky was the first child to notice the size of the book. “We have to read all that?” Dinky whined. A few others took notice of the massive size of the novel, and Cheerilee saw their precious hearts drop. “No way!” shouted Diamond Tiara. “That’s huge! We’ll never finish it in a week!” She stuck out her bottom lip. The room erupted into a cacophony of disappointed groans and whines. Cheerilee, who didn’t even have a choice in the matter--seeing as her original books were gone--wouldn’t have any of it. “Quiet, children,” she hushed. The students quieted down almost immediately. Cheerilee hated being loud. She let out an irritated sigh. Her head was destroying her. “It appears that somepony misplaced the copies of the book we were going to read. But, seeing as we have these…” Truffles raised his hoof. He didn’t wait for Cheerilee to call on him before he started speaking. “What’s the book about, Ms. Cheerilee?” he asked. He appeared excited to start reading. In fact, half of the class were actually avid readers. The other half looked like they wanted to cry. Cheerilee didn’t even know. Desperate to have something to tell her students, she turned the book over in order to obtain some kind of clue. She felt her heart drop when she realized that the back was absolutely blank. “I… uhm…” Cheerilee couldn’t skip reading time. However, she had no idea what could possibly lie inside of this book. She’d have to read it along with them. She grabbed one more book from the cabinet, and shut it. If parents found out that she lost books, skipped valuable parts of their educational curriculum, and sent students home early for the day, she’d definitely be having a stern talking to. She had to let them read something. “You know what, children? It’s a surprise! Everypony come and grab a copy so we can get started.” Cheerilee sat down behind her desk and watched her students. A few wandered up sluggishly, some more excitedly, and two almost comically. The books proved difficult for the students to carry. They slammed their books on their desks, desperate to get the giant tome out of their hooves. Cheerilee frowned. “This thing weighs a ton!” cried Rumble. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to read all of this…” sighed Zippowhill. “Can’t we just read something else instead?” asked Diamond Tiara. “Please, students, relax,” Cheerilee pleaded. The remaining book on the table was hers. She flipped it open to the first chapter. “Let’s get started. If we begin early, we can complete it sooner. Keep that in mind.” Some of the class muttered to themselves. Archer, Twist, and a few other students already had their pages flipped open. They were waiting for Cheerilee’s say before moving on. Cheerilee flipped back her mane. It was just like any Monday. These students were the closest thing she was ever going to have to actual children. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. She loved reading to them, because of it. Cheerilee readied herself, and then opened her mouth. “Alright students. Please open your books if you haven’t already. Let’s begin. Chapter one-” “Can you believe her?” Sweetie Belle shrieked, shaking the remnants of lukewarm shower water out of her mane. She made sure not to get any her bookbag, which had been resting silently on her back. The water that had drenched her shining white coat had managed to turn it into a darker form of its usual self. “Diamond Tiara? Yeah, what a jerk!” Scootaloo agreed. Her mane was currently flatted downwards, and sticking to the side of her face and in the opposite direction that it should have. For some reason, it made her look dramatically different than usual. “Oooh..” Apple Bloom grunted in agitation. “When ah get my hooves on her…” The filly didn’t even need to finish the sentence. She didn’t even know what she was going to do. But she was sure that her revenge would be sweet and beautiful. That little princess was going to get her comeuppance soon or later. The three fillies had finished their showers. They were given strict orders by Cheerilee to go home, shower, and come back. The fillies told assured her that that was their plan, and that they would return before sprinted away from the school to get cleaned up. However, the three had made a unanimous decision not to go home to fix themselves up. Rather than go home all muddy and pique the unwanted interest of their relatives, as well as receive a bombardment of questions relating to why they were currently not in school, they decided that a hose that the three had found would suffice. Unfortunately, the three didn’t think it through. Without towels, or any proper way to dry themselves without air drying, they had to wait a while before making their way back to school. “It’s already almost 11 o'clock. We’re gonna get in so much trouble…” Sweetie Belle sighed. Rarity had warned her about school fairly recently. She had wandered too far during recess last Friday, giving Cheerilee a heart attack. She wasn’t looking forward to the future scoldings of both her teacher and her older sister. She wasn’t sure which she was more afraid of. “Well, what were we supposed to do?” Scootaloo said. “Not like we could walk inside dripping wet.” Apple Bloom gave her a sideways glance. “But we are dripping wet. The sun isn’t even out! Even if we stayed out here all day, we wouldn’t get dry,” the little country mare retorted with a slight roll of her eyes. Every breeze that passed by caused the three fillies to violently shiver. Overall, they should have just went home to clean themselves up. Oh well. It was certainly not one of their worst ideas. “We’re missing reading time…” Sweetie Belle sulked. For some reason, Sweetie was insisting on trying to harsh Scootaloo’s mellow, and she was getting tired of it. “I was looking forward to the new book Cheerilee was introducing. What if it was a romance, or a dramatic comedy?” “What if it had pictures?” Scootaloo chuckled. Sweetie Belle’s groaning intensified. “We won’t get in trouble, girls,” Apple Bloom reassured. “We’re almost there, and then Cheerilee will give us the books. We’ll just have to read ‘em at home.” Scootaloo frowned at the the sound of that. But, then again, there was no way it could have been helped. She turned towards the ground. She despised homework. The three fillies reached the schoolhouse five minutes later with a small trail of water following them. Apple Bloom was already trying to form a game plan. She’d walk in, say nothing, and just make her way to her seat and start reading. Easy enough. She conveyed her idea to the rest of the girls as they made their way up the schoolhouse steps. Neither Sweetie Belle nor Scootaloo had a better idea. The three knew exactly where Diamond Tiara sat, and they each made sure that nopony would give her any eye contact until they had an idea to get her back. Obviously, each filly wanted to be the first one though the door. Instead of having an unneeded argument, Scootaloo offered another idea. “Let’s all just open the door at the same time.” Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom shrugged, but they ultimately agreed. They all grabbed the door handle. They counted down from three. Two. One. They opened the door, and took a single look inside. Nopony could hear anything. The sound of Sweetie Belle’s scream tore through the air like scissors. The sound ripped out of her throat, destroying her beautiful vocal chords with unmanned fury. Everypony in Cheerilee’s classroom was dead. The room smelt of iron, a stench that the three of them could never mistake. Almost everything in the room was destroyed. Many copies of white books were scattered around either students desks or the floor. Most of them were splattered with small drops of innocent crimson blood. In fact, there was enough blood in the room to fill a very large bathtub. Many windows were broken, and a few desks were overturned. Bodies littered the room like cockroaches. Each and every one of them had a thick layer of blood under their eyes, and on their chest and laps. The colt directly in front of them, the one who always sat closest to the door--Snips, was leaning back in his chair, his head and mane tilted back. Dead, lifeless eyes stared the three filles down--down to oblivion. He had a pair of bloody scissors in his hooves, and deep, precise, cuts in his stomach. A wind blew through the room, and the scissors fell from his hooves and clattered on the floor. His mouth was open, as if he was letting out loose a scream that would never end. Everpony. Everypony was dead--dead and unable to bleed anymore. Rumble’s desk and the floor surrounding it was covered in blood. The stallion had gore covering his hooves, and glass littered the area around him. There was a sharp gash in his neck, resembling a sliced fruit. A very large piece of glass was lying on his desk, drowning in a vast ocean of red. Button Mash was slumped over in his seat, eyes wide. His hoofheld game was shattered into pieces on his desk. Four battery shaped lumps protruded from his throat. His hat was still on top of his head. Archer, the new student, had a pencil lodged deep inside of her left eye. White goop slithered down her face, onto her desk. Her mouth was just slightly parted, as if her last words had just escaped her lips before she died. Everypony was dead. Dead. Dead. No more. Diamond Tiara was literally hanging out the window. Sharp pieces of savage glass protruded from her back, impaling her. Blood was sliding down the windowsill, down the wall, pooling on the floor like an overturned can of paint. Silver Spoon was located right next to her, leaning against the wall. Her face was a battered mess, only recognizable because of her grey, braided mane. There was a large dent in the wall a few inches to her left. Her glasses were nowhere to be found, however, Diamond Tiara’s tiara laid on the floor next to them. Dinky was leaning back in her seat, an empty pill bottle in her lap. A few of her ADHD pills were scattered about. However, a substantial amount was missing. Featherweight and Truffles were located far away from their seats. Their bodies were nearest the chalkboard, and they were lying in a very large puddle. It was impossible to see what killed them without turning them over. Snails was located just behind the door, his long neck contorted at an almost supernatural angle. Zipporwhill had somehow broken the paper cutter. The sharp, razor blade was lying on the floor, next to her body, in front of her wide open eyes. There were deep cuts on her all four of her legs, all over. She looked like she had been lassoed by barbed wire. Twist was very similar, though the cuts were more accurate. Her teeth and gums were bloody, and her braces were gone, appearing to have been forcibly ripped and torn out her her mouth. Then there was Cheerilee. Their favorite teacher, he kindest mare in the world, was dead before their very eyes. The mare had a cord wrapped around her neck, one connected to the projector. The projector itself was nowhere to be seen, but the cord lead out another broken window. Her face was puffed up grotesquely, and she no longer resembled the beautiful mare that she once used to be. Their teacher had managed to hang herself. The mare was leaning up against the floor. With every wind that passed by from the open door, she would rock just slightly. Sweetie Belle fainted almost immediately, snapping Scootaloo and Apple Bloom out of the stupor. They didn’t need to think. Their eyes were full of tears and trauma. Their instinct told them to run as fast as they could. Another part of them was urging them to stop, and help their friends--the ones they had known for a long time. While tears poured out of their faces, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo grabbed their unconscious friend and bolted, running to whoever could help their friends and teacher--bring them back to life. The three of them refused to believe that everypony was dead.
Chapter ThreeView OnlineThe Saddest StoryChapter ThreeIt was 10:52 AM–roughly 14 minutes after Prose’s death, and 31 minutes before Cheerilee’s Elementary School's mass suicide. But Spike couldn’t have known that. The explosion that rocked the Ponyville Supermarket had knocked the poor dragon’s list of priorities around. The air was murky–riddled with dust and debris that would stick to Spike’s face, painting his normally purple face a sickly grey. There was something in his eyes–probably grime from the recently disturbed foundation. Unfortunately, he couldn’t get it out, and he was forced to let the discomfort sit in his eyes. The supermarket was in shambles. The casual din that it once had was no longer, replaced with a darkness that Spike could sense in the air. He was extremely lucky that he wasn’t killed, and that the building was strong enough to not cave in on itself. He was fortunate enough to have survived–to have lived. Spike’s head was a complete mess. Even though his eyes were closed, he knew what had happened. His brain was spinning circles, giving the body orders that he just wasn’t able to follow. It had taken Spike a total of two minutes to gain back his consciousness, and it had taken him far longer than that to remember just where he was. Spike’s brain began to shift back into reality, a feeling that the poor dragon was not ready for yet. While he was blessed to still be living, Spike wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. He had seen the blast wave making its way through the massive supermarket, barreling through shelves and aisles like a chaotic, rushing bull. When he had woken up, he immediately wished he hadn’t. He wanted to lay there forever. Spike’s entire body was throbbing to the beat of his heart, a dull pain coursing through him. He felt as if his blood had turned into sharp tacks. He let out an agonizing wail, one that tore his chest to pieces from the inside out. The realization of what had occurred, the fact that he wasn’t dead, the pain that riddled his body, it was too much. Spike screamed as loudly and as much as he could. He didn’t know what else to do. “Twilight!” he called out into the ruins of the supermarket, nowhere near where Twilight Sparkle was actually located. The baby dragon was traumatized, and therefore could not recognize that the closest mare to him wasn’t there to help. The entire situation very similar to a child calling after his mother after having a scary dream. “Twilight, save me! Plee-ee-ase!” Spike was trapped. A shelf had fallen on top of him, as well as a few other items, such as snacks, a few pieces of fruit, and some small pieces of what used to be the walls. It was a good thing Spike was still a baby. Little did he know that his short stature actually saved his life. While the shelf on top of his was currently entrapping him in his own makeshift version of Hell, he was lucky that it was the only thing that made connection with his body. The more Spike came to his senses, the more his blood began to thicken inside of himself. His mind registered nothing but pure suffering. He felt that his arm was twisted at an irregular angle, but he couldn’t tell if it was broken. Sharp pieces of debris dug into his sides and back, making it seem like he was sleeping on a bed of nails. He could feel something warm trickling down his sides, and his awkward left arm. Another anguished howl escaped Spike’s lips. He was unable to move without experiencing pain beyond his wildest imagination. Spike’s breathing intensified as he was overcome with a dangerous amount of unbridled panic. “Somepony, please! Help me!” he cried. Tears ran down his face, his fear finally showing itself. “Twilight!” Spike hadn’t expected anything like that to happen when he had woken up this morning. He hadn’t planned on going to the store today, upon Twilight’s request. He hadn’t wished to get caught in some kind of explosion. He hadn’t wanted to break his brain. Not only ten minutes ago, Spike was content–a feeling that he felt he’d never experience again for the rest of his life. Walking into the Ponyville Supermarket was something that Spike had did at least once a week. It wasn’t all that big of a task for him. He had gotten used to the quiet dinging that the doors made when he walked in, and a cheery “hello” from one of the cashiers. With white, freshly painted walls, and floors so clean it mimicked a hospital, Spike was growing more and more accustomed to his surroundings. “Hmm,” he muttered to himself, holding a small list in his claws. The items that Twilight had sent him to retrieve were, unfortunately, not found in one central location. He’d have to wander around the entire store, much to his chagrin. He shrugged. It was not as if he had anything better to do. “Eggs, milk, roses--” Spike read aloud, trying to memorize the list as well as he could in an effort to not forget anything, and organize his thoughts. It was a method that Spike had mastered, and hardly failed him. While most would assume that the baby dragon was merely talking to himself, it never the case. “--some disinfectant wipes, quills, ink… should be easy enough…” Spike grabbed a small basket at the front of the door, and made his way through the store. He hummed a small tune as he waddled. There was some kind of music playing over the radio that Spike couldn’t exactly hear, or recognize. Ponies were milling about, doing their shopping for the morning. There was an elderly couple that Spike had passed in the aisle with various kinds of bird seed. Spike saw a young mare wandering up and down the aisle with the paperback novels. There was an older stallion with his two fillies that were playfully arguing about what kind of cereal they should buy. Spike wasn’t all too interested, so he didn’t pay attention any further. He had his own list of things to do. Spike glanced from his list, to the numbers of the aisles, and back again multiple times. “Eggs are… somewhere around here,” he murmured. While he had grown used to the entirety of the store, Spike still had trouble locating different things from time to time. After asking an employee for help, it turned out that Spike was on the wrong side of the store, with the eggs being in the northeast corner rather than the southeast. With a tired groan, Spike thanked the teenager and made his way. To Spike, this was nothing. Twilight had asked him to do worse. In fact, he quite enjoyed his frequent trips to the store. It let him clear his head. Besides, there were definitely more menial and difficult tasks that he could have done instead, so he was somewhat glad. Spike had made his way through the store quickly, walking up and down aisles and gingerly placing things in his basket. Only about five minutes later, Spike was nearing the end of his list. Mentally checking items off in his head, the ink and quills were the last things he needed to get. Unfortunately, it was at the other side of the store. His feet were starting to get sore. Perhaps next time he should organize his list further by location. Spike waddled to the western corner of the store, absently. While he was lost in thought, he still managed to have a decent sense of direction. He could not stop his mind from wandering, for some reason. Maybe it was just from boredom, or restlessness. Either way, Spike did not snap back to reality until he was standing in front of the items that he needed. “Ink, here we--” he stopped. There were many different kinds of ink. Spike was unsure of what kind Twilight needed. What was the kind that she always used? Why couldn’t he remember? He was the one who bought it last time. “Erm… here we go,” Spike muttered to himself as he grabbed the most standard kind of ink, and threw it into his basket. From the other side of the store, Spike heard some kind of commotion. Though, he naturally tuned it out. It was only until Spike’s better-than-average hearing picked up on certain words did he pause. “Hey! Are you okay?” called a voice at the other side of the store. Spike was at the very end of the aisle, so he had to lean over intrusively so he could try to catch a glimpse of the scene. Whatever was going on, it was in an aisle not very close to him. He bit the inside of his cheek, curiously. He returned back to the items in front of him. Now, where were the quills? Somewhere around there… The noise was only escalating, Spike knew that. No matter how hard he tried, there was no way he could ignore the distant yelling. “What are you doing? Calm down, miss!” There was a earsplitting scream. At that point, not only Spike was taking notice of the commotion on the other side of the store. Everyone was looking, trying to get a feel for what was happening. There was the sound of hooves clopping on the grocery floor–eager, frantic hooves. A few of the other ponies in the store were at a loss. A few ponies had actually dropped their baskets to check out the situation, and make sure everything was alright. Spike saw a mare actually ditch her basket entirely, making her way out of the store for fear of what was to come. Another earsplitting scream from the same exact mare. “Stop! What are you doing? You’re bleeding! Everypony, clear the way! We need to get her to a hospital!” said a much deeper voice, one of authority. More screams, more running hooves, more panic in their voices. Spike’s heart was beginning to beat faster and faster, like a swirling wave of confusion and regret. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. An awkward, nagging feeling tugged at his heart, as he grew increasingly torn. He didn’t know whether to simply finish his shopping, check out the scene, or just come back to the store later when everything was better. Surely Twilight would understand. Then, all of a sudden, the voice from the other side of the store piped up. Then Spike heard the most frightened, panicked voice shout at practically everypony in the store. It rang across the aisles like an echo. The voice was riddled with despair, as if he was giving into a silent defeat. “Everypony run!” Then the explosion occurred–a massive heat ripped through the air, warming the young dragon’s face to the point where he felt he was going to combust. The bright light that enshrouded the supermarket in a thick mask of death was blinding and exhilarating at the same time. The large boom was enough to make him fear losing his hearing for just a few moments. Spike had enough time to see the other ponies in front of him disappear into a dense fog of fire. He was able to see the ponies get thrown back from the blast itself like ragdolls. Luckily, Spike was thrown by the shock wave itself, and wasn’t engulfed in flames. So now, Spike was forced to come to terms that he that just narrowly escaped Death’s vice. The smell of burning flesh was heavy in the air just as Spike was beginning to grow desperate for help. “Twilight!” he called. “Somepony, please help me!” His screams tore through the empty supermarket, echoing off the charred remains of his fellow Ponyville citizens and the broken walls. With every breath he took, adrenaline coursed through his veins. The sharp pieces of wood and debris that prodded at his young body were agonizingly painful. Tears streamed down his face, and his mouth contorted into a disgusting grimace as he lay there. His heart began to beat faster and faster, and the feeling was beginning to frighten him even more. No matter how much he cried for help, he received no response. This lead him to believe that he was the only survivor of the explosion. Why did it even happen? Spike had no idea. It was apparent that somepony was hurt before the explosion went off. He had no idea why they were connected, and it hurt his brain to even think about it. Nothing made sense. The amount of unanswered questions was staggering enough, and brought on even more unnecessary stress. Spike knew he was on his own. He’d have to get out of this by himself. With more adrenaline running through him, he tried to move himself without getting hurt even further. Using his uninjured arm, he removed the small pieces of debris away from himself, and his other arm. When it was lodged free, Spike surveyed the damage. While his arm was not broken, it was in poor shape. There were mortal cuts and wounds running up and down his arm, surprising the dragon. His scales were near-impenetrable, so it was a wonder how it had even happened in the first place. All he knew what that his arm throbbing excruciatingly. He was pretty sure something was dislocated. Blood dripped down his arm from his shoulder, to his claws, and then to the floor. Spike shook violently at the sight. He leaned over and vomited, the sight too much to bear. He didn’t look at it. He tried to ignore the grotesque sight of his left arm. He just couldn’t take it. The only thing keeping Spike on the ground was the large shelf that pinned him. Even for Spike, it was pretty small in comparison. Had it been a shelf from a different section of the store, he would have certainly been crushed to death. Using his one arm, he grabbed the edge of the shelf and tried to lift it off of him. He grunted loudly, before it morphed into a pained squeal. It didn’t budge. The adrenaline still knocked away at Spike’s blood and body. When Spike tried again, he ignored all the pain inside him, letting it fade away into nothingness. With a harrowing cry, he put all of his power into his torso. The shelf slowly began to rise off of him, but it didn’t help Spike feel joy. When the shelf was roughly eight inches off of Spike, he kicked himself back, launching himself a few feet away. The shelf clashed on the ground, making a mighty noise that could have awoken the dead. Spike didn’t hear. The minute he was free, Spike broke down. Sobbing incoherently and sporadically, Spike rolled on the ground like an absolute mess. The adrenaline almost immediately came to an end, helping Spike to register the extreme pain in his left arm. Kicking and sliding his legs across the ground, he let loose another bombardment of terrified howls. How he hadn’t lost his voice was a mystery. He was finally able to wipe the grime out of his eyes. There were large holes in the ceiling, and large pieces of it were littered about. Sunlight shone in through the gaps–a sign of false safety. There were fires that scaled the walls, but they were small and nonthreatening. Other shelves like the one that had trapped Spike were tipped over, lying on their side. Oddly enough, there were some white books scattered about here and there, completely untouched. Spike didn’t give it a second though. He forced himself off of the ground. The lingering smell of death haunted him. His eyes were wide and wet, his face and cheeks drenched. The moment he stood up was when blood began to pour out of his wounded arm. Droplets of red hit the ground a few times every second, and Spike had to force himself not to look, or risk passing out. He began to walk through the remains. He needed to get out of there. His mind was shattered into pieces, merely a shell of its former giddy self. However, he still retained his common sense. He needed to get help. He needed treatment. He needed Twilight. Twilight. “H-Help! Somepony…!” she yelled into the nothingness. Not even the smouldering bodies that lay on the ground heard him scream. As Spike made his way, he must have passed at least fifteen bodies. Fifteen ponies, at least. Spike couldn’t tell who they were–their faces and bodies painted black like charcoal. He couldn’t even tell if they were male or female. He had no idea if the mare reading books earlier survived. He didn’t know if the elderly couple purchasing bird seed, or the stallion and his two fillies made it out with their lives. So far, the supermarket was a barren wasteland. It looked like the aftermath to a war, or the apocalypse. “Twilight, please!” Spike was having trouble realizing that he was still screaming Twilight’s name. It was more of an automatic instinct, similarly found in mere animals. He didn’t die in the explosion, but other specific parts of him did. Spike traversed along the turmoil, holding his bloody arm and trying his best to ignore the dead bodies that slept at the poor dragon’s feet. He needed to get out of there. He needed help. He needed Twilight. Every step was damaging. With all the debris and immovable objects in the way, Spike found himself exploring a jungle of metal and broken architecture. Every time he needed to step over a sharp piece of wood, or clamor over a tipped shelf, it killed him a little more. Everything was hurting. At some point, he tripped over a small wire, and landed on a sharp piece of wood–earning him a brand new gash in his stomach. Unfortunately, his belly was just another place where Spike’s body was susceptible to injury. He had vomited earlier, and his stomach was too empty now. All that came out was acid. The pain was becoming just too much to bear, and the urge to just lie over and surcumb to his fate was becoming more tempting by the second. However, this was not what Twilight had taught him. Spike was not one to lay down and accept something like this to end his life. Spike was small, but he was just too strong for that. Twilight helped him become that way. It took longer than expected, but Spike found a small hole in the wall, one perfect for someone his size. Sunlight was pouring in from outside, and his heart practically jumped out of his chest when he walked through. There was a crowd of ponies gathering outside of the remnants of the supermarket, watching and looking in awe at the chaos and destruction. Ponies who lived nearby, were just about to enter the store, or just happened to be wandering by were massed outside in a large semicircle that encompassed what used to be the store. There were emergency personnel talking to witnesses, and a few were trying to create a different exit in case there were other survivors. He didn’t take the time to wonder why. Spike’s throat was becoming sore, and he tasted blood in his mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was the incessant screaming, or the cut on his stomach. “Hey! Look!” somepony shouted. Spike didn’t even acknowledge the fact that he had been found. Knowing that he would soon be safe in the hooves of somepony else, Spike let his mind wane. He collapsed. A group of five or so ponies, who were nearest at the time, ran over to Spike. “H-He’s hurt! Someone get a doctor!” said a mare. Spike’s vision was getting foggy. He had no idea who those ponies were. “The kid… the kid actually survived!” said a younger stallion. “The only survivor so far…” An older pegasus grabbed Spike by the shoulders, and tried to meet Spike’s foggy gaze. “Who did this? Tell us who killed everyone! What happened?” The mare yelled again for the doctor, who was now on his way. He pushed the older pegasus aside. His medical mask shimmered in the sun. But Spike was scared. He didn’t know what was going to happen. Spike’s energy–much like his blood–were depleted. He couldn’t open his mouth to answer. Everything was slipping away. He felt like he was in some kind of sick dream. Then, his brain decided that it had had enough. Spike closed his eyes, and shuddered when he felt an unfamiliar darkness descend upon him.
Chapter FourView OnlineThe Saddest StoryChapter FourTwilight’s mind was a sea of confusion, depression, and sickness. Her heart had been thumping for the last twenty minutes. It was roughly 11 o’clock after all. Her mind wasn’t able to process just how much time had passed, however. After Prose—Twilight’s good friend—had killed herself, she had initially been in a horridly brutal state of shock. While the mare was certain that only two minutes had passed, she didn’t comprehend that her mind had remained frozen for a much longer period of time than she originally thought. It took her fifteen minutes to snap out of it. When she did, she still didn’t know what to do. Just a few moments ago, Prose was alive and well. The mare even smiled to her as Twilight left the room. She was only planning on being gone for a few minutes, and she was. Twilight was desperate, unable to accept the harsh reality that lied in a bloody mess underneath the massive pile of books and splintered wood. Deaths that weren’t relative to old age, or even some other natural cause, were very uncommon. In fact, Twilight had never known of anypony around her in her entire life that had died prematurely. For this reason, Twilight was at a complete loss as for how to feel. More tears streamed down the unicorns face. Her eyes were wide with unrelenting fright. Twilight’s horn was aglow as she flung books and pieces of wood to and fro in a useless effort to save Prose. ¨N-no...¨ The words poured out of her mouth, as if she had taken a drink of water but refused to swallow. ¨T-this can’t be...¨ Pieces of wood and paper flew everywhere, drenched in the darkness that the clouds outside provided. The more Twilight removed, the more blood that the mare uncovered. The more blood that she uncovered, the less hopeful she became. Twilight’s common sense knew what she didn’t want to admit. Prose was most certainly dead—killed by Twilight’s own pride and joy. There was no way that Prose could have survived. After all, it was Twilight’s bookcase. She knew exactly how heavy it was. Unfortunately, Twilight just could not accept it. ¨Please...¨ Twilight groaned as she choked on the tears. The words constricted her throat. ¨What happened… Prose?¨ Twilight stopped. She had removed about half of the debris before giving up. She could see a sliver of cerulean blue—Prose—at the bottom of the pile. Unfortunately, the more she uncovered, the more blood Twilight came across. Twilight had a feeling that seeing the body would only make her feel sicker than she already was. She paused.. The scent of iron filled her nostrils, like she was swimming in a pool of liquefied rust. Tears continued to stream down her face as she tried to piece together what had just happened in the last twenty minutes. None of it made any sense. Prose was a very happy mare, from Twilight’s perspective. She didn’t look suicidal in the slightest. However, depression isn’t easily discernible by mere sight. Maybe Prose was very dispirited after all. Moment’s before her death, she said it herself. Those fateful words: “I’m so sad, Twilight”, would hang in her consciousness for the rest of her life. Twilight refused to accept that as well. Prose was not depressed, despite the obvious signs. She knew the mare for a while now, and Prose had no reason to just up and end her life out of the blue. That, and the fact that Prose was too mature to try and gain attention and an audience from her suicide. Nothing was making any sense. She needed to contact the hospital, or the police, or something first. She was incredibly doubtful that Prose was still alive, but she couldn’t rule out the possibility. Since Twilight hadn’t gotten to Prose yet, she could very well still be breathing underneath the now smaller pile of books—suffering. She needed help. She didn’t care who, but preferably a doctor. How was she going to bring Prose to a hospital? If Twilight tried to move her as she lay underneath all those books and sharp pieces of wood, she could get injured further—if she was still alive. Teleportation was out of the picture. If teleportation is done by two unicorns, it saps a little bit power from both. That could prove fatal. She had no choice but to leave her friend behind, and go search for help. Twilight stood straight, and stared down at Prose’s makeshift book grave. “I’m so sorry, Prose,” Twilight murmured, more tears falling down her face. Her eyes grew red. “I thought we were friends. I’m sorry you were so sad. I… I didn’t know…” Twilight would have given the world for a mere breath as a response. “I should have done something to help you… if you can hear me, then I’m going to get help. If you can here me, please stay strong.” No response. Twilight was almost positive that Prose was dead, however she just couldn’t seem to let go of that little sliver of optimism that clouded her judgement. She glanced down further, towards her hooves, and let out an “oh”. The Shutterwell book sat only a few centimeters away. The title was covered in blood, as were some of the pages. Twilight magically picked up the book, and let out a shaky breath. “For you, just in case,” she quivered. She set the book down on the top of the pile. It was Twilight’s gift to the late Prose, who died way too young. She had a feeling that Prose would have rathered a book on her grave, more so than flowers. When the book was set neatly on top of the pile, Twilight couldn’t bear it anymore. She ran. She bolted out the door with speeds she never knew she could reach. The moment Twilight opened the doors and wandered outside, she knew something was wrong. The air was cold and nippy, pretty close to what Twilight had expected to accompany the overcast that shrouded the town. Whenever a wind strode by, she felt herself violently shiver For September, it was unnaturally chilly. Luckily, it was supposed to warm up later in the day. For now, the tears that had previously crawled down Twilight’s cheeks were currently freezing against her face. Everything was loud, like the entire town was talking at once. Many ponies were running around in a panic. Some ponies were carrying their belongings in their hooves, while others were carrying ponies entirely. Screams and desperate cries for help filled the air. There were fires blazing, enveloping houses and buildings all around her. Twilight could smell blood and smoke in the air. It was all wrong. Something strange was happening. Ponyville looked like it was experiencing the end of the world. The only thing Twilight didn’t know was why. Everywhere she looked, Twilight saw fear and panic manifesting and reigning free all over the town. She ran as fast as she could. She wasn’t exactly sure where her end goal was, but she had to investigate. She needed to find her friends, as well as Spike. Unfortunately, they could all be located anywhere among Ponyville’s initial panic. The shifting of her visions and colors made it near impossible to try and keep an eye upon any one pony. Twilight’s path went from erratic to strategic. She made her way to key points that she’d needed to investigate while also going in a counter clockwise direction around the town. While passing through Rarity’s boutique, Fluttershy’s cottage, Sugarcube Corner, Rainbow Dash’s cloud house, and Sweet Apple Acres, Twilight was beginning to grow nervous. Her friends, her rock, were nowhere to be found. They weren’t where Twilight had expected, leaving her with an endless amount of variables that hurt her brain to even consider. They had to be somewhere. Twilight wasn’t sure what triggered Prose’s sudden suicide, and everyone’s sudden panic. She hoped her friends and Spike were alright. The thought of him running about in the madness in front of her wanted to drive Twilight to tears. She shouldn't have sent him out to the store. She should have told him to stay at the library instead. Though Twilight couldn’t have known about the transpire of events, she could admit she was glad that Spike wasn’t subjected to the unnecessary brutality that was Prose’s suicide. It was very unlikely somebody like Spike would be able to handle that kind of violence. The more the mare traveled around, the more Twilight began to develop of phobia of the entire town. While most of the ponies were running, Twilight noticed a few ponies walking, actually milling about. Each and every one of them were crying blood—it poured down their cheeks and chest, and spilled onto the floor. They seem indifferent to the situation at hand, untouched by the sheer pandemonium that struck the town. While they constantly got pushed or shoved by a hurrying pony, they barely turned to look. They looked around, as if they were searching for something. Twilight was watching one of them. A blue mare in the middle of a small crowd of ponies in the middle of Town Square. She kept looking towards the sky, down to the floor, and anywhere in between, all while blood slid down her face. Twilight watched on with a grimace, but she felt compelled to watch—and collect a small amount of research and simply observe for a moment. If the mare started to do something dangerous, like Prose, she’d intervene in an instant— CRACK! “Waaah!” Twilight cried. She was so preoccupied with the other mare that she failed to notice the stallion above her, who was perched upon the roof of house she was standing under. Twilight had no time to see it occur, but when she turned, all the mare saw was the mangled, broken body of a yellow stallion who had also jumped. Blood stopped pouring from his eyes, and immediately began to dry against his body. However, a little bit of it slithered down from his nostril. With glazed eyes that seemed to stare straight into Twilight’s very soul, and many misshapen joints that were impossible for even a profession contortionist to imitate. Twilight grew sick. Holding a hoof to her mouth, she swallowed the bile that had made its way up her throat. She forced herself to look away, and she didn’t feel the urge to check for vital signs. She turned back to the blue mare in the crowd. Unfortunately, she was now gone—unless she was on the ground just out of Twilight’s view. Why? Why was everypony doing this to themselves? Twilight wasn’t sure, and now she knew that Prose’s death was not of her own doing. Prose killed herself not due to a depression Twilight didn’t even know she had, but for some other reason. Somehow, whatever Prose went through, a few others were as well. What if it was a disease? What if it was airborne? Whatever was going on, it was making ponies take their own life. This was her conclusion. The more hypothesis’ that crossed Twilight’s already aching brain, the more nervous she became. It was then that a loud shrieking sound pierced through the mayhem. In fact, she was surprised that she was even able to hear it. “Twilight! Over here!” Twilight turned. In between the doors of a small house on the corner of the street, Rainbow Dash was calling to her, waving a frantic hoof around. “Come over here, Twilight! Hurry your flank!” Twilight obeyed. The familiar feeling of her skipping heart had brought her to her senses. Losing the mass of bedlam to her peripheral vision, she sprinted to the house. She paid little attention to the ponies that rammed into her accidentally. Slipping through the crowd, Twilight made her way to the bricked building in a matter of 50 seconds. Not a moment after she passed through the door, it was slammed behind her and dead bolted. For some reason, Twilight was panting and sweaty. Maybe making her way through that crowd took a bit more effort than she originally thought. Maybe she had forgotten to breathe upon seeing one of her friends call to her. Maybe she was still a bit sick from seeing the mangled corpse of that stallion who had jumped to his death right next to her. Or, she was just out of shape. “Thank goodness! You’re alright!” said a voice from behind her. Twilight didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was: Rarity. The unicorn in question put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “We’ve been looking for you,” said Rainbow Dash, who was hovering near the door with Rarity. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?” “I… I’ve been searching too,” Twilight huffed, finally lifting up her head. “I’m so glad.... we’ve found each other…” Twilight took in the sights. Overall, the house seemed to be very average when compared to most of Ponyville’s homes. While Twilight was now in the livingroom, she could see clearly into a kitchen lined with various appliances. The floor was made of wood, and the walls were the color of apricots. There was a small rug in the center of the room. There were various couches and chairs that were littered with ponies that Twilight wasn’t even familiar with. An older orange stallion was sitting on a wooden stool in the far corner of the room, eyeing Twilight curiously. A mother and her filly were seated on the beige colored couch. The child was sobbing uncontrollably, and the mare was trying her best to hush her. A young blue stallion in business attire was seated on one of the stairs that lead to the second floor. Twilight deduced these ponies were stragglers that took cover from the chaos like everyone else. Either that, or one of these ponies were the actual owner of the house. Seated next to the mother and filly was Pinkie Pie. Cradled in her hooves were Pumpkin and Pound Cake. The two had their eyes closed, and were sucking on a bottle Pinkie had given them. Pinkie’s face was splattered with blood. Her eyes were emotionless and inexpressive. She rocked the two babies methodically. Applejack and Fluttershy bolted into the livingroom from the kitchen. Fluttershy’s mouth was, at first, open when she took in the sight of Twilight Sparkle. However, it quickly shifted into a relieved smile. Behind the two of them, another purple mare emerged from the kitchen. She bore a gigantic frown. “Twilight!” Applejack exclaimed. “You’re okay! Thank heavens! With all o’ this chaos, here I thought we’d never find ya.” Applejack pulled Twilight in for a hug, in which the rest of the girls—except for Pinkie, who might not have even realized that Twilight was there—joined. “I’m fine,” Twilight muttered, the moment their group hug broke. “All that matters is that we’re all together.” “Do you know what’s going on?” asked Fluttershy, with watery eyes. “Everything just… ponies just started…” “Dying,” Rainbow Dash finished. “Everypony just started dying.” “It’s the Celestia-damn apocalypse outside,” said the business stallion on the staircase. Most of his body was covered by a bright blue suit. He bore a black, slicked mare and green eyes. Twilight and her friends turned to look at him. Only Rarity and Applejack had to gall to give him a rude stare. “This… this isn’t the apocalypse,” Twilight said. It was getting difficult to speak over the crying filly on the couch. However, she wasn’t going to say anything. If that filly saw similar things to what Twilight saw, she couldn’t blame the child. “But… I don’t know what’s going on.” “So, we’re all gonna die?” said the purple mare. Her short green mare sticking to her cheeks. She looked at the group of six, as if they had all the answers and were labeled as mere messengers. Before somepony said something, she spoke up again. “What’s going on outside, exactly?” “Please, watch what you say!” shouted the mother, whose filly had heard her remark. The volume of her crying increased. The purple mare apologized. “We need to stop and think,” said Twilight. “If we all start predicting the future, nothing good can come out of it. I… we’re all going to be perfectly fine!” The orange stallion in the corner of the room raised an eyebrow, but hardly anyone save for Twilight noticed this. Then, Twilight remembered something. “Erm… where’s Spike? He’s with you all, right?” Everyone in the room turned to look at one another. Even the ponies that Twilight didn’t know knew of Spike. After all, he was the only dragon in town. But even still, they only gave blank stares. “Twilight, we haven’t seen him,” said Rarity. When Twilight let out a nervous whimper, Rarity fought to correct her statement. “Well, we haven’t. But I’m sure he’s alright.” “He’s a smart dragon, Twilight,” Fluttershy added. “He knows what to do. We’ll find him safe and sound, I’m sure.” Twilight nodded. They had a point. Spike had the spirit and willpower to do anything he desired. Twilight had taught him well, and she had complete faith in the baby dragon. She knew deep in her heart that he was out there, fine. The only thing that bothered her was the variables that could come into play. He could be out there doing anything. Life was unfair and cruel, but she hoped that it would hold off to at least give Spike a helping hoof. She wanted to hold her dear Spike. She didn’t know what she would do if something happened to him. “Look, I know you’re all still having a buddy-buddy moment and all,” said the orange stallion in the corner of the room. “But will someone fill us in, here?” “What do you mean ‘fill you in’?” barked Applejack. “We don’t know anything more than you do.” “Well, not exactly,” Twilight admitted. It was at this moment that everyone turned to look at her, even Pinkie Pie and the crying foal and her mother. When the foal heard this, she let her crying shift into restrained whimpering. “I’ve been doing some thinking, but I still don’t know the cause of it all. Let’s just all get situated first. Then I’ll explain what I know.”
Chapter FiveView OnlineThe Saddest StoryChapter FiveThe house was haunted. Not by ghosts. Not by the unrelenting souls of the poor ponies who had lost their lives that day, but more so by the heavy, cursed weight that bore down of everypony’s shoulders. The din that reigned supreme through the mysterious home was enough to make somepony submit to the unforgiving fate that tempted them, and frankly succeeded when it came to the ponies who had all died that day. Everything in the house was eternally silent. Hardly anypony spoke, as the sounds that pierced through what was once a very peaceful and loving town suddenly began to lessen to an almost stunning halt outside. Every now and then, a cold chill would make its way through the home, sending shivers through a few ponies inside, but not all. The house was cut into two different groups. While this was completely unintentional, Twilight could not be worried about it. The unicorn and her friends were all spread around on the upper floor of the house in various rooms, while the other five ponies, whom Twilight still didn’t exactly know, resided downstairs. Every now and then, she could hear the traumatized sniffles of the foal, followed by small hushing sounds coming from her mother. Twilight sat in some kind of bedroom. She lay on a pink bed that sat in the corner of the room, on her back. She stared up at the ceiling, like a zombie, as she was completely lost inside of her almost aching mind. She was thinking. About what, she couldn’t exactly tell. She thought about what had happened so far, that day. How it had started out so normal, like any other. She thought about what was possibly going on, and what kind of sickness or plague could possibly be doing this to their innocent little town. She thought about Prose—and her very untimely death in front of Twilight’s very eyes. She thought about the stallion, who had almost crushed her when he jumped from a rooftop above. She thought about the blood that practically ran down the streets of Ponyville—blood that would surely never wash away no matter how harsh a rainstorm was brought on. Twilight’s mind kept shifting, and she couldn’t focus correctly. She hadn’t moved in what felt like hours. When she realized this, she blinked, and turned her head to the left. There was a clock on the endtable. It was two in the afternoon. She turned back to look at the bland, white ceiling in front of her, and let out a soft sigh. Spike drifted through her brain, like a picture running down a raging river. The mere thought of him, out there, wanted to make her tear up. She couldn’t help but wonder where he was, if he was hurt, or worse. The last thing Twilight wanted to imagine was Spike surcumbing to the same fate as Prose, but for some reason she just couldn’t help but shiver every time it accidently passed through. While Twilight was still certain that Spike had enough sense and intellect to find her, or stay safe, the variables still hurt. Sweet Celestia, Twilight muttered in her mind. The variables. Anything could happen. It was a proven fact that there are chances in almost every thing in life. There was a chance the Twilight would have oatmeal for breakfast. There was a chance that some kind of plague would run rampant throughout her town. There was a chance that she’d end up finding her friends as fast as she did. There was a chance that she would end up just like Prose. Dead. Crushed. Twilight physically shook her head, and let out a small grunt. She grabbed one of the pillows that propped her head into the air, and threw it on her face. While she wanted to scream into it, she held back. The house was much too quiet to get away with something like that. It was frustrating, but understandable. Nothing was making sense, and that was a fact that Twilight felt was going to cause her brain to spontaneously combust. There was a soft knock on the door, causing Twilight to reflexively toss the pillow off of her face, and set it on the bed right next to her. She didn’t say anything, but merely waited for whoever was on the other side to come in. Twilight just turned to the ceiling, and sighed softly. The door slowly opened, and the unicorn caught a tint of orange. “S-Sugarcube?” Applejack called, as she cautiously peeked the door open. Twilight didn’t even move her head, or take notice of the mare. She was too busy thinking. “Can I come in? It’s been a while…” Her southern drawl was littered with emotion—a tinge of sadness, a sprinkle of carefulness, a dash of social withdrawal. Twilight picked up on this rather quickly, and tore her eyes away from the top of the room. She gave forth a small nod. Applejack, almost eager, opened up the door a little wider, and slipped inside. She held her stetson hat in her hoof, pressed against her chest. She paused for a moment, as if she was debating what to say, before opening her mouth again. “It’s… gotten awful quiet outside,” she said, rather downtrodden. Twilight simply stared at the mare, before giving another nod. “Yes,” Twilight replied, with a sigh. “It has. It’s… terrible,” she murmured. Applejack sat her hat back on top of her head, gently. Twilight already had an idea of why Applejack was entering, so she cut straight to the point. It was better than letting the words linger inside of her mind, like particles of dust. “Nothing. Nothing makes any sense, Applejack. It was all out of nowhere. So fast,” she added. Applejack nodded, knowingly. While Twilight had no idea just what Applejack herself saw before they all met up, the unicorn told herself to be careful. After all, the earth pony hadn’t mentioned her sister at all, and she surely wasn’t inside of the house. Same for Rarity’s sister, Sweetie Belle, and Rainbow Dash’s friend, Scootaloo. She was going to have to watch what she said, and prevent herself from saying anything to bring it up. “Yeah. I… er…” Applejack seemed to be fighting herself for words. “I just wanted to make sure ya were alright in ‘ere. Wouldja mind if I went and grabbed the other girls?” Twilight shook her head. With this, Applejack poked her head out the door, and made some sort of waving motion. Twilight felt like an idiot. She sure hoped her friends didn’t just assume she was ignoring them. Then again, maybe isolating herself in that room was a horrid way to get anything solved. Twilight shook her head, for a different reason this time, and sat up, a bit more determined than she was a second ago. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash entered the room, walking past Applejack. All three of them bore large frowns on their faces. Twilight couldn’t help but cock her head. “Where’s Pinkie?” she asked. The last time Twilight saw Pinkie was a few hours ago, sitting on the couch with the Cake twins, covered in a bit of blood. Actually, she had been meaning to ask about that, but decided to simply save it for later. She’d find a time to inquire later. The four of them just alternated glances, as if they were having a conversation with their eyes. Eventually, it was Rainbow Dash who opened her brash mouth. “She’s, uh, going through something at the moment,” she said, almost casually. Twilight didn’t understand, and Rarity picked up on it. “What Rainbow means is that Pinkie’s… not entirely cooperating. We tried to stir her, but she refused to move from the couch,” Rarity explained. The facts quickly began to dawn of Twilight, and she couldn’t help but cast her eyes downward. Surely, Pinkie saw something similar to what Twilight saw, if not worse. This only made the unicorn curious. She just barely kept her own mouth shut. “The poor dear…” “Twilight, w-what’s g-going on? Please...” Fluttershy quivered, desperate for some kind of consolation that could only be found in undeniable facts and answers. Honestly, Twilight should have told her friends what she knew earlier, which made the mare feel all the more guilty. “I don’t know,” she said, plainly. Fluttershy’s ears flattened against her head, and the frown that adorned her pretty face tripled in size. “I mean, I’m not too sure yet. Based from what I saw, I can’t entirely come up with an answer quite yet,” she said, as calmly and reassuringly as she could manage. “Well, something’s going on,” Rainbow Dash said, abruptly. Applejack gave the mare the dirtiest glare Twilight had ever seen from her, but the pegasus didn’t seem to notice. “There are ponies dropping dead outside.” “It’s like they suddenly lose the will to live…” Fluttershy added, in a tiny voice. Her shaking was so violent that she was wobbling, and her eyes were flickering a mile a minute with fright. “Now, wait a minute,” Applejack intervened, holding up a hoof. She rested it on Fluttershy’s shoulder in a lame effort to calm her down. “We don’t know yet. We don’t know anything yet.” Something was clicking inside of Twilight’s mind. As she contemplated what Fluttershy said, it was as if someone was illuminating that dark, empty cavern that she liked to consider her mind. She remembered the death of Prose, and the stallion who had jumped to his death. “I… think she’s right,” she said. Unfortunately, she had meant to say it in her head. “Pardon me, dear?” The look on Rarity’s face made it apparent that she was pretty unsure that she had heard Twilight incorrectly, when in fact she didn’t. “Something’s going on. It’s making ponies… end their own lives, by whatever means necessary. Prose… knocked over one of my bookcases, on purpose, and died…” Twilight said, depressedly. She purposefully didn’t bring up the stallion. “That’s the only thing we know. There’s…” Twilight’s thirst for knowledge was the one thing that was aiding in the slow destruction of her aching mind. What she didn’t know that she doing exactly what it shouldn’t: kill her. “We… urk…” Rainbow Dash’s gulp cut short whatever brave comment she was about to make. Her tail swished side to side, at an almost obnoxiously fast pace. Twilight simply assumed that she didn’t realize that she was doing it. She could see the disappointment on her face. “T-Then… what is our course of action?” Rarity asked, rather formally. “Surely, sitting around here wouldn’t do us any good,” she added. Twilight could see Rarity’s eyes flicker towards the window nearest the bed, like she was occasionally trying to get a peek of what was going on outside. Unfortunately, most of the windows in the house bore curtains. No one had the courage to look through them. Twilight paused for a moment. Fluttershy was still shaking so hard, she could have rivalled a tectonic plate. She was buried into Applejack’s shoulder, who was doing her best to pat her back and calm her down. It was dangerous to go outside, that much Twilight could presume. It was unclear what the best course of action was, as she really didn’t even know what she was up against. Whatever was making ponies kill themselves was horrifyingly effective. For all she knew, it could be some kind of virus or plague. And, if that was the case, it wouldn’t even be that crazy to assume that it’s airborne. But, luckily, that was unlikely, since Twilight had been running around outside earlier and she felt perfectly fine. “I think we need to go and find Princess Celestia. I’m positive she knows what’s going on, and how to stop this,” Twilight said, a bit more sternly than she meant to. She was staring at the doorway, at no one in particular. She did a little bit of thinking. While she had no idea of Canterlot was even affected, she knew deep in the back of her mind that getting there, and speaking with the Princess would surely help. “We can’t,” Rainbow Dash suddenly exclaimed, flicking her ear once every few seconds. “I was flying around during the craziness earlier, looking for you guys. The train is completely destroyed, tipped over off the tracks a mile away from here,” she explained. Twilight refused to let this hinder her optimism. As of right then, it was all that she actually had. Rainbow scratched the back of her head, and looked upwards, as if she was recalling a memory. “Metal and wood were everywhere. I swooped down to help, but…” Twilight already knew how Rainbow was going to finish that sentence. “How do ya suppose we get there?” Applejack asked, obviously working quickly to change the topic. She tossed her head over in Twilight direction, casting an almost saddened look upon her. “I’m… not sure. We’ll have to walk… tonight,” she said, as if she was coming to a realization. “Leaving at the moment probably isn’t a good idea. It’d take a few hours to get there. By the time that we’d arrive, it’d already be nighttime. We should grab a few things and rest, and leave this evening, and walk through the night—perhaps be there by morning . Nopony will be out then, either. We can limit who we come in contact with that way too… incase whatever is going on with ponies is contagious,” Twilight explained. She was more or less simply thinking out loud. Rainbow, Rarity, and Applejack shared glances between them, as if they were having another short conversation with their eyes. “B-b-but… walking to C-Canterlot? I-in the dark?” Fluttershy stammered. As soon as the pegasus repeated Twilight’s words out loud, the latter could help but frown with realization. While it was a risky idea, it was better than arriving at Canterlot at night. Whether this plague was apparent in the royal city or not, Twilight would rather not get there sometime in the night. Morning would be a much better time to arrive. Twilight thought quickly. “As strange as it may sound, I think it’s safer. Surely, there’s some flashlights we can take, or other supplies. I know the route fairly well,” Twilight explained, jumping off the bed. “If we make haste, and leave sometime around seven in the evening, we’ll be there in the morning. We cannot stay here for much longer,” Twilight explained. “Sound like a plan?” Rainbow Dash raised a hoof to her forehead, like she was doing a salute. “Gotcha!” she said, rather loudly. Applejack and Rarity exchanged a series of nervous glances, before they simultaneously shared a determined nod. Fluttershy, however, was frozen in place. Twilight couldn’t help but stamp a small frown on her face, and she received nothing more than one of the most reluctant squeals of agreement that she had ever heard. Twilight was about to ponder Fluttershy, but that wish was denied mere milliseconds later. “But… what do we do about Pinkie?” Rarity asked, politely and daintily tossing her head towards the door. “The poor dear is in no position to move, unfortunately,” she explained. “A-And the Cake Twins…?” Fluttershy just barely managed to add. The fragile pegasus appeared to just barely be on the edge of hysterics. Her eyes were the size of tiny peas, and surveyed her friends as if every glance would be her very last one, or even as if she was looking through some kind of time-travelling mirror. Twilight paused for a moment. She had completely forgotten about the Cake Twins. Her eye twitched with the realization that they surely couldn’t leave two children in the hooves of a bunch of complete strangers. However, that didn’t stop her brain from maneuvering and thinking at a mile a minute. There was a small lull in the conversation, another one, before Twilight spoke up. “I think we should let Pinkie stay here,” she said. As horrible as the words were, leaving her mouth, she had good reason for them. Rainbow Dash actually seemed a bit offended at the idea. Her eyes actually appeared to harden. “L-Leave her here? No way! We stick together! That’s the way we’ve done it before, and that’s the way we should keep doing it! We can’t leave her behind!” Applejack, understandably, caught on to Twilight’s thinking. She turned to the pegasus, and bore into her with emerald green eyes. “Rainbow, ya gotta admit. Pinkie’s… not all that stable right now. She can’t even move off that couch. How are we supposed to get ‘er to walk to Canterlot?” “Of course,” Rarity added. “Besides, she could stay here and take care of the Twins. She has been doing a good job, dearie. Last time I checked, they were asleep in her hooves, drinking from bottles.” This only confirmed Twilight’s decision. Rainbow Dash turned from pony to pony, alternating glances between the time span of about three seconds, before letting out a loud huff. “A-alright… I guess that makes sense…” she said, letting her shoulders sag. While Twilight did indeed feel a little guilty leaving one of her best friends behind, it was for the best. Pinkie surely wouldn’t mind, and she’d most likely stay safe inside the house. She wouldn’t be alone. “Good,” Twilight stepped up, a brand new determined look plastered on her face. An unbridled heat rose from the mare’s cheeks, as she understood just what this all meant for her, and her friends. She turned at looked at the clock, which currently read about 2:30-ish pm. She did a few mental calculations, before uttering her next few words. “We leave at seven. Grab what you can, get some rest. Do whatever you have to do. Just be ready for…” There was another pause. Twilight had absolutely no idea how to finish that sentence. As the time dwindled by, so did the trickling feeling of regret. The more Twilight pondered leaving the house, every time that the mare heard the eerie sound of the ticking clock, the more she felt something. It was an odd sensation, something akin to either extreme nervousness or jittery excitement. She had spent most of the last few hours simply trying to understand which one it was. While she was eager to learn more of the epidemic that was going on outside, the variables were proving a gigantic mental strain on her wishes for knowledge and sustenance. Her mind had been spinning with ideas and hypothesizes, reactions and consequences, results and fallacies. Everything was hurting inside of her, but she forced it away for the sake of her friends. While it wasn’t the most healthy of strategies, it was the most effective. Twilight had somehow coerced herself not to think about Prose until the whole ordeal was over with, when she could set aside a proper time and place to mourn the poor mare’s death. That stallion as well, whom she still didn’t even know. The house, throughout the five hours before their departure, had somehow lost power. At roughly 3 pm, everything just cut out. Twilight had a rather morbid idea why, but everypony immediately thought the same thing, so she didn’t say anything. The end result was the house being shrouded in near darkness as the sun began to set in the distance. This gave Twilight a little bit of hope. Perhaps the Princess’ weren’t affected by this… plague. They were still doing their royal duties, obviously. Twilight had watched earlier, as Rarity tried to explain to Pinkie Pie their situation, and that it would be better for her to stay there. Unfortunately, Pinkie was just too… out of it. It was unsure if she heard, as she just kept her empty eyes focused on the rug at her hooves below her. Twilight told the purple mare, one of the stragglers who appeared to be the most responsible of them all, to keep an eye on their friend while they left. She didn’t appear to care, but agreed nonetheless. The other stragglers had taken to sleep in different parts of the house. By some kind of sheer happenstance, Twilight’s group of five managed to find a good amount of supplies to borrow for their trip. This included a bit of food, five flashlights, a small map, and a few other necessities, such as camping gear just in case of some kind of emergency in case they’d need to stop for a while. Twilight had thought of everything. At four minutes to seven, The five of them huddled in the near darkness, shining flashlights through the living room like they were telling campfire stories. Fluttershy’s light was shaking so much that to anyone looking at the house from outside would think that someone was playing with strobe lights. Applejack was the closest to the door, and had offered to be the first one to take a look outside. “Y’all ready?” she asked. Only three ponies nodded in return. Applejack didn’t falter. She let out a hot, shaky breath, and bravely grasped the doorknob, clutching it with an intense death grip that could have shattered a rock. Very, very suddenly, Applejack thrust open the door, and peeked her head outside before anyone behind her could get any sort of look. She shined her flashlight about outside, to and fro. For a moment, Applejack seemed perfectly fine, balancing herself on her hindlegs to survey the land before her. But then, Twilight noticed something she wished she didn’t. Applejack’s legs were shaking, vigorously. Just as soon as the cowpony opened the door, she slammed it closed, returning back into the house. Rarity shined her flashlight on Applejack’s face, only to show… ...one of the most horrified, appalled expressions Twilight had ever seen the mare give. Her eyes were the size of ants, moving about in a sea of white, twitching. Twilight almost instantly lost hope, but she tossed that idea into the garbage quickly. Before anypony could ask something pertaining to what she saw, Applejack pointed a hoof at Fluttershy. “I think she should stay here, with Pinkie,” she said. Her voice… changed. It was a bit more serious, and taxing than it was just a few moments ago. Fluttershy’s eyes softened, and actually began to water with worry and panic. “B-b-b-but…” was all the Fluttershy had managed to say, taking a few steps back. “Applejack, what did you see?” Rainbow Dash asked, genuinely curious. “What was so bad?” Twilight hoped that Rainbow was kidding, but didn’t put it past her that she wasn’t. “We can’t leave Fluttershy behind,” Twilight spoke. “We need as many of the Element’s of Harmony as possible.” Twilight couldn’t imagine the thought of leaving both Pinkie and Fluttershy behind. Besides, there was a forest that the group would need to make their way through, one that Twilight wasn’t particularly familiar with, especially at night. Twilight had made it clear earlier that Fluttershy was a necessity. Applejack changed her odd gaze to Twilight, and saw her eye twitch horrendously. “Twi, I don’t think ya understand. She can’t go out there. She can’t. Heck, none of us should go out there… there’s… all over…” Fluttershy was crying, now. Applejack’s prompting had accidentally sparked her into going into another fearful fit. Tears were being strewn down her face, like rain on a windowsill. “W-w-what’s o-outside…? I-I don’t…” she stammered, backing herself up until her rump his a nearby wall. She was shaking her head, like a child who didn’t wish to go to bed. “We need Fluttershy. She has to go. We’re already risking enough leaving Pinkie Pie behind,” Rainbow Dash muttered, looking towards the ground and speaking under her breath. “I-I-I c-can’t go!” Fluttershy squeaked. “Do y’all have somethin’ in your ears?” Applejack asked. “She can’t go. She can’t see....” Twilight was slowly starting to catch on. Surely, whatever Applejack saw outside would only traumatize the poor buttery pegasus. Perhaps… Applejack is right. She’d only turn out like Pinkie… But that was until Twilight thought of something. She threw her saddlebag off of her back, and began to quickly rummage through it. The rest of the group, save for Fluttershy, watched curiously, before Twilight pulled out a small bandana. “Fluttershy, put this over your eyes,” she said, almost demandingly. “B-but—” “Please, Fluttershy,” Twilight begged, her tone turning more gentle with every word she spoke. She cautiously walked over to the mare, and held out the red bandana to her. “We’ll take it off the moment it seems safe enough. We need you.” Twilight’s eyes shone like some kind of leader, shimmering like glass even in the darkly lit room. Fluttershy’s crying came to an almost abrupt halt. She alternated glances from the bandana, to Twilight, and to her friends, for a least a full minute before Twilight was almost delighted to see her speak. “O-okay…” she said.
