Trapped with my comrades, I am.
For trapped is what we are, in this very moment. Walking alongside poor little Cell as she looks at the nearby remains of a town. We'd passed a sign that read, "Ponyville". Ponyville, it is no longer. It is a tumbleweed, static in time and space, in a land we used to know.
And that is where I shall remain. For Equestria this is, no longer. Centuries of work, centuries of dedication. Destruction, then revival once more, like a pheonix of great wonders and riches, just waiting to be cracked open to allow the people around it to see the glory... Feel the glory...
That is what Equestria is.
What it was, For it now rests torn apart by those terrible creatures.
Oh, how I remember being small. The tender touch of my mother's hooves as she held me in my sleep and the dreams of me becoming something big, even if anyone who heard me say it thought it was just a part of my imagination and wild mind.
How I wish that was the present. I'd kill to be there. I'd kill to be with my brothers and sister in those last moments, we all would.
Alas, we are lonely in our own worlds.
Pick coughs, looks into the dust clouds that obscure our view of the land in front of us, and begins,"We could turn back, we have to,"
As if it was our queue, us three stallions looked to her like she was crazy.
"Go back?" Venison says, opposingly, "We nearly lost our flanks back there, and you want to go back to that damn crevice?"
"We need to, those dusty winds'll be the end of us if we even poke our snouts in there," Pick proclaimed.
I walk toward the front of the group. They all watch me, waiting for me to say something.
"We'll survive." I state. Silence. I can only hear the agreeing humming of those around me. I look at them, and they nod. Venison looks at the others with a glare, his mouth open like he's going to say something. He closes it and continues his walk.
"Get a rag. Anything to block your airways from all the sand," Pick commands. She grabs Cell, and holds her close to her side, "Here, sweetheart," she says with a voice of a loving mother. She places her coat over her and covers her eyes and other facial orifices.
As we approach the sand storm, the buzzing of whatever was in it became more and more audible. Two feet in, we all noticed a dim light on the other side of this treacherous obstacle. I can hear Pick shout, over all the buzzing, telling us to continue onward.
Hastily, we all pick up our paces, eager to see what the dim light was. We run faster and faster, and jump through the thick force-field like sheet of dust that stopped us from proceeding any further in our current speed.
It was completely quiet.
"Everypony alright?" Pick asked, we all nod. Then we look up, and see a tree. A tree in the midst of chaos, and a small field of soft grass.
But we look at it with horror. Horror, because we know this is not a tree. This is a monstrosity that dwells underground, and we ran into it's heart.
The throbbing leaf-like center, surrounded by small sensors that told the creature when something was ready to be eaten. Pick gasps, and shouts:
"Get out of here, NOW!"
Several tentacles erupt from underneath us, swiping this way and that. Their razor-sharp spines can pierce through bone like scissors on paper. Flesh was like butter.
One of them hits it's mark, and strikes Terrace. The fifty year old grunts in pain as the mouth located near the heart opens, revealing a deep red, blood oozing from the walls covered in ragged hide from it's other victims. Pick reacts fast, and charges toward the tentacle. Before it could pull Terrace in, she cuts it with her makeshift sword, hacking it several times as it lies writhing on the ground. Screeching can be heard, erupting from the mouth. Pick gets slashed as she tries to help Terrace up, and falls on the ground.
I watched. I watched in horror as a tentacle came swooping down on her, thirsting for her blood. I tick into action, and gallop to her. Holding my long shephard's hook as a barrier against the heavy tentacle, I manage to stop it dead on it's tracks, saving Pick's life. She gets up and hacks the tentacle as it attempts to escape.
Three tentacles, and one of them grabs Cell. Unprotected, Cell was almost as vulnerable as bird eggs without a mother. The tentacle rises, Cell in it's horrible grasp, and slams down on the mimicry grass.
"CELL!" Pick yells, as we all rush to kill the dreaded tentacle. Striking it with all our might, I feel the ground vibrate as six more tentacles erupt right in front of us. Holding Cell like a foal, she shouts at us,"Kill the heart! Cut down the tree!"
We all gallop towards our new target. I turn back to the sound of Pick and Cell screaming in terror. I see the tentacles wrapped around their bodies, slowly dragging them to the mouth.
My heart pounds, as we all chop the tree down with knives, axes, hatchets, and whatever sharp tool we have. Shrieks of pain pound our eardrums, as we hack through what's left of the heart stem. The tree falls, the tentacles stop, and the mouth releases the foul odor of it's dead victims.
Terrace runs to Pick, and carefully cuts through the tentacles, still grasping their prey. Venison does the same, releasing Cell.
I stay frozen. A constant ringing in my ears denies me the ability to hear anything but muffled shouts of pain from Cell and Pick. I turn to them, their bodies with sickening wounds the look like zippers. My hearing returns, with it the noise of Cell crying, and Pick moaning.
"They're bleeding.." I say, shocked,"They're.."
"Hey get over here, man!" Terrace says,"You're the only one who knows this stuff!"
"Y-Yeah, right," It was true, I was the most experienced with things like this. I get over to the mares, mainly Cell as she's the one in most danger. I try to calm her, removing the coat that Pick had placed over her.
"Calm down, baby, it'll be all right," I say while removing the sleeve that covered her face. It felt heavy and parts of it were torn off. I see her face, flesh clinging from her cheek, revealing the tongue and her teeth. I try to hide the expression of pure horror from my face, and take out the box that I had everything in. Taking out a large bottle of whiskey, I order her to drink it. With some pouring out her wound, she cries in pain.
"Dear Celestia, NOO!" Pick shouts as she sees the horrible sight of poor Cell all torn up.
"Don't let her see! Don't let her see!" Terrace shouts at Venison. Venison and Terrace try to soothe Pick, as I try to help Cell. I look at Cell's body, the other wounds not being as serious but still, they had to be cleaned.
My hooves, shaking uncontrollably, drop the needle I was using to stitch Cell's cheek back together. I pick it up, and attempt to place the thread through the needle. After many attempts, and hurrying commands by the others, I place the thread and plunge the needle through her cheek. She weeps in pain, her lavender eyes looking into mine as she watches me trying to help her.. Tears forming and tears running down the sides of her head.
"Please, make it stop!" she says, sobbing while I stitch her gaping wound.
"Just.. Just stay still, Cell." I tell her in the most calmed of voices I can formulate in this horrible moment.
Just stay still...