Transient Soul

The light slowly came back to your eyes, it was a queer light, almost the shade of emerald and manilla, noted with some hues of ruby and sapphire wisps. You go to move your hand to your head, or at least you would, if you had a hand, or a head to lay it on. In fact, you didn't feel your legs either, you were awake, but you certainly weren't back to normal.

"Howdy kid." You hear a voice call out to you from the miasma of colorful fog. You see an old man with dark skin, rocking away on an old chair playing a guitar.

You move closer to him, but find yourself with every step forward, moving farther away from him. "Wait, let me talk to you?"

"Where ya headed kid?" You hear from behind you, you turn around and see him in his calm strumming, seemingly not fazed at all.

"Who...who the hell are you stranger?" You ask.

"Ruggs." he quietly speaks, continuing to pick away at his guitar, playing a soft harmony that soothed your spirit.

"You must be that spook kid that's been causing a bit of a fuss." He states underneath a twitching moustache. "Restless fellas gotta know when to have their peace kid."

"I...I'm not a kid! I'm 38 years old!" You try to put on your best nightmare fuel face, and unfortunatly it doesn't work.

"Haha, yeah. I remember the jokes kids used to play, seen plenty in my time. Now come on, get to gettin already." He stops playing his guitar and looks at you with a stony glare.

"W...where am I?" You begin to back up slightly, with a growing sensation of dread rising up in your belly.

"Look, all this takes some getting used to," he gets up from his rocking chair, and strides toward you. "And you do get used to it eventually." He raises his hand at you, and you feel an instinctual shiver of fear run down your core. You back up, but find the world around you sliding closer and closer to his outreached hand.

"G-get away from me! I don't want to go! I don't want to miss out on getting my body back" You plead.

"Yeah, there's alot of this I miss too. I miss not having to watch my back all the time. I miss, well...never mind, and lastly." He puts his hand right on your eyes and whispers.

"I miss the songs, people back there really knew how to carry a tune, sure ol' Cerebus can howl out a good melody or two, but I really miss that soul of life... not that it matters much to you troublemaker."

You feel a force glow within your core, as if warm water trickling through every synapse in your body, you feel tired and at peace. As if you were laying down to a very warm nap. Suddenly, the sensation quickly leaves you, and your vision returns.

You shake your being, and stare back at the old man, who is busy talking to something that looked like a miniature blue bag with eyes.

"Huh, so that ain't the escapee? Just some fella lost on his way?" Ruggs stated rubbing the back of his neck.

The little blue bag eye thing chirped slightly as it looked at you, before quickly diving into the sea of fog beneath you.

"W...what the hell was that?" You ask Ruggs who makes his way back to his chair.

"Hmm? Oh him? Just a friend." He sighs, picking up his guitar, and begins strumming away again.

"W-wait, I don't understand mister!" You state as the emerald manilla fog around you began to fade into a black starry sky.

"Ain't your place to understand kid, ain't your time neither."

You began falling backwards and downwards further and further away from Ruggs, spiriling down from that fog.

"Hey kid, do me a favor, if you meet up with that troublemaker, give 'im a wallop for me."

You slam your eyes open as you gasp for air. "HOOOOOOOO MY GOOOOOOOD! You move your arms up and down, twitching in your plastic figurine form.

"ANON!" You see Applejack, with tears in her eyes staring down at you. She turns around and yells "Girls! Get over here! Anon's made it back!"