The sizzling fire in the cold iron hearth danced before me. I sat on the dirty, ancient wooden floor, worn smooth by centuries of hooved occupants. Doctor Whooves, my only friend in this entire reality, sat silently next to me. All that either of us could manage to do was hold our hands—or hooves—up to the dwindling fire to gain some feeble sense of warmth. Firewood was a valuable commodity in the mountain city of Canterlot, for only the aristocratic could afford to have wood shipped up from the surrounding forests below, and they did not sell at fair prices.
It was a troublesome time for the city, for all of Equestria. The atmosphere was thick with fear, hushed rumors permeating the city like a pervasive, sickly reek. It was said that the city had been threatened, but no one knew any details. It was some nameless, malevolent force; the ponies spoke of it as if Tartarus itself was about to spring forth from the earth and begin a dominion of the damned. The silence of any official word from the diarchy only served to give the idea credence.
I shuddered once again, groaning with increased aggravation with each minute spent shivering. We sat in my tiny, austere bedroom in front of my tiny fireplace. It seemed like we were always meeting here, but the size of the room allowed it to be one of the warmest in the town home. Despite this slight advantage of location, Doctor Whooves was apparently no better than myself, despite his thick winter fur.
“When is winter going to end, anyway?” I asked, trying to focus on anything but how cold I was.
“It’s supposed to be pretty soon. I’m sorry about the cold in here. There’s nothing I can do, I’m afraid.”
Of all the things I’ve had to deal with after coming here, the planned weather is probably the most advantageous. Quite frankly, I’m not sure why the ponies bother to make it winter at all. They could at least make it shorter.
“Well, I’m tired of it,” I replied grumpily.
Whooves smiled consolingly, but any cathartic effect he tried to convey was spoiled by his own chattering jaw. “We could try talking. It might get your mind off the cold.”
I shrugged. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Why don’t you tell me about your childhood?”
“I already told you about it. It’s boring. Why can’t we talk about Equestria?”
He sighed. “We always talk about Equestria, Melissa. The conversations never really go anywhere.”
“Maybe, but you have to admit it’s much more interesting than my life, Doctor.”
“But I’m interested in your life.”
“Yeah, you would be.” I laughed. However, the smile soon slipped off my face, and I furrowed my brows in thoughtfulness. I’ve already told him all about my life in the human world, and we’ve discussed Equestria plenty of times, but I don’t think he’s ever asked about how his world is portrayed on human television. That’s the weird thing about Doctor Whooves—he always acts like he knows everything already. Well, everything except me, but that line of questioning gets pretty boring after a while. I mean, he’s not even flirting, so why so interested? I can’t wrap my mind around that pony sometimes.
“Perhaps we can compromise. Would you like to hear about how Equestria’s portrayed on TV?”
“Hmm… Perhaps that might be enlightening, if that’s what you want to talk about. I daresay we can’t get too much done with the temperature as it is.”
“Well, before I came here, I watched a show about Equestria called ‘My Little Pony’. It mostly focused on the Mane Six. You know—Twilight and all of them. It was a pretty good show, I guess. I consider myself a pegasister, even though I can’t exactly watch it here.” I laughed. I suppose I was watching it, in a way.
“How are you doing with the whole ‘fantasy world’ problem? Are you still having problems adjusting?”
“I guess as good as anyone could be doing in my position.” I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. What did he really expect me to say?
My mirth quickly died in the cold, still air. I pulled into myself, wrapping my arms around my legs. I didn’t have the kind of outerwear I would typically have in this weather, seeing as how it was pretty difficult to get clothes in a world where you were the only being to walk on two legs. I came to Equestria in the fall, so all I had was a spare set of clothes similar to what I was wearing—jeans, t-shirt, tennis shoes. Not exactly the type of clothes one would pack for a trip to a mountain top. Doctor Whooves was nice enough to give me a jacket earlier today, when we had started running low on firewood. It was kind of ratty, but I suppose I should have been questioning how he even got an article of human clothing. He’s weird that way.
I found that my growing fatigue at the late hour was compounding most unpleasantly with the chilly atmosphere, and I felt a kind of restless torpor not unlike what one would feel after drinking ten cups of coffee after having been awake for twenty-four hours. I found myself longing for the sanctuary of my bed’s blanket.
“So did you start watching the show before or after ‘the event’?” he asked.
I sighed. I wasn’t really in the mood for conversation anymore. “Doctor, I’m sorry, but it’s really hard to concentrate on talking with it being so cold in here.”
“Yes, they really messed up when they designed this place. The heat doesn’t radiate near as well as it should, does it?”
“Yeah, you’re telling me…”
“Perhaps it would be best if we just call it a night. What do you say?’
“Yeah, I guess so.” To be honest, I was relieved he wasn’t offended. Winter was scheduled to end in a few days, and I wistfully considered spending the entire time huddled under my bed covers. Hell, I only ever came out to eat and talk to my roommate, anyway.
“Then I will go to bed as well. You’re probably pretty tired, and we’ve made a lot of progress today. See you tomorrow, Melissa.”
“Good night, Doctor.”
He stood up slowly. He age was evident in his shaking knees that protested the strain of his rising and the soft groan that accompanied his exertion. He picked up his work papers that he had brought with him when he came to chat and made towards my door. With a kind smile cast in my direction, he passed the threshold and my door closed behind him with a muted click.
I disrobed and my skin quickly protested the loss of their shielding. My teeth started chattering even before I was able to dive under my covers. If I thought that I’d find some relief in this refuge, however, I was sorely mistaken. The sheets were every bit as icy as the rest of the room, sucking comforting heat from me with impossible efficiency. I threw the grey, ratty blanket over myself, but it did little. Perhaps I could will myself to sleep as my meager body heat warmed me. Well, I could hope, anyway.
After what seemed like an eternity spent combating dark thoughts about my circumstances, an uneasy sleep consumed me.
* * * * * * *
I awoke with an involuntary shudder. The bedding had sucked all the warmth from my body, and the fire was dead. I hid myself beneath the satin, trying to hide from the horrid environment I was trapped in. I futilely attempted to return to the ignorance of sleep with some desperation. If I couldn’t sleep, then I was damned to spend hours with my thoughts before the sun rose to awaken the world. It was not a pleasant proposition for me; whenever I let my thoughts wander, they tend to grow dark.
Depression is another thing ponies can’t seem to understand, with the exception of Doctor Whooves. What a strange pony.
Of course, there was an alternative. I could will myself to get up and find some firewood. It’s not something that I considered lightly. I had some meager hope that we had some tucked away somewhere, that maybe the Doctor had a hidden stockpile. I knew that I was just getting my hopes up, deep down. If that wasn’t the case, I would have exposed myself to the cold of the house for nothing.
After a few minutes of cowering beneath my sheets, I made up my mind. I jumped out of bed, slamming my eyes shut and grinding my teeth at the sudden influx of frozen air that assaulted my bare body. I pulled on my icy clothes and took a few deep breaths. You can do this, Melissa. It’s just a quick run downstairs.
My eyes quickly grew accustomed to the darkness, but there was something wrong. Drifting across my bedroom floor was a layer of fog. Why? This had never happened before. I checked my windows and found them tightly shut. This was really weird. I was going to have to ask the Doctor about it tomorrow. I pulled on my tennis shoes and made my way out of my room.
It appeared that the entire house was full of fog. This was kind of troubling. It didn’t smell of smoke, so the house wasn’t burning down. So what was it? Maybe some trick of the weather? It's not like pony weather worked like the kind from home, so I supposed it was possible. I decided that I should probably inform my roommate about it, as he might have knowledge about this that I didn’t. I tiptoed to his room (in hindsight this was kind of pointless, since I intended on waking him up anyway). I rapped on his bedroom door with my knuckles.
No response.
“Doctor, you in there?”
I waited for a moment. Nothing. Damn, he must be a really heavy sleeper. I reached down and tried his door knob. To my surprise, it was unlocked. How strange. The Doctor never left his door unlocked. I grew concerned, and looked inside.
His fire was also burnt out, and his bed was empty and unmade. My heart started pounding, announcing my growing panic to the world in rhythmic shouts.
Where had he gone in the middle of the night? Could he not feel the atmosphere of fear that pervaded the city? Was it nothing to him, or was he wise to some other eventuality, as his idiosyncratic knowledge often enabled?
Come to think of it, I never saw the doctor at night. I’ve never even seen him outside of his visits to my room, or my visits to his spartanly decorated living room, where I laid on the couch as we talked or played board games. What if he doesn’t even live here? What information is he trying to glean from me?
Could I even trust the doctor?
This revelation plagued my mind. Who could have sent him here? Was it the government, or perhaps whatever malevolent force plagued the city’s sense of peace so? He didn’t seem to be dangerous…right now. What manner of being was I allowing access to my home, to my thoughts?
I realized that panic was setting into my psyche, and I was in imminent danger of succumbing to a panic attack. I took a deep breath and tried to control my breathing and my thoughts. I’m jumping to conclusions. Maybe he works at night. I realize that I’ve never asked him what he does for a living. Maybe he was out getting firewood on his own, as both of our hearths had burnt down to cold ash.
Still, the vexing thoughts sucked out any sense of lethargy I had felt at my mid-night arousal. I decided to wait for him. Trekking down the primitive, unfinished stairs, I sat myself on the couch that had so often hosted me at my discussions with Doctor Whooves. I waited, losing the battle to control my breathing and my growing hysteria.
The clocks ticked. Yes, there were many clocks here. He seemed to have some sort of obsession with them. There was a grandfather clock behind his armchair, and a small cuckoo clock on the hearth here. I would have checked to see if there was any burnt wood or scraps of paper in this fireplace, but I knew better. The damn thing never got lit anymore, wood’s so expensive.
The clocks continued to tick. I continued to worry. I knew I couldn’t get to sleep without knowing if Doctor Whooves was safe (or plotting against me), and I definitely couldn’t sleep without something to warm my room. In either case, I held little hope of being able to function tomorrow. I began to entertain the notion that I needed to do something proactive, and not just sit around hoping that my problems would resolve themselves.
I hate facing my problems. And I hate that I hate facing my problems. When I was in school on Earth, I was constantly bullied by everyone. In middle school, I was called a slut for kissing a boy. In high school, I was called pathetic for only ever kissing one. I was made fun of for wearing glasses. When I stopped wearing them, I was made fun of for not being able to see. Anyone else would have either ignored them. The cool people would have made fun of them in turn. I didn’t—I fled. All the days I spent crying at home flooded through my mind, a testament of my weakness to face my problems.
Well, I wasn’t just going to sit around and let my problems consume me anymore. I stood up and took a deep breath. Time to face your fears, Melissa. I strode toward the front door and swung it open, stepping out into the world.
One good thing about not having heat in the house is that it quickly becomes the same temperature as the outside. There wasn’t as much of a shock of cold as I was expecting, and the only indication that I was indeed outside was the slow, nippy breeze that stirred around my exposed face. I walked down the shoveled stairway of my house and looked around, trying to get my bearings.
The only place I knew of that sold firewood at this time of night was in the affluent part of town, in case the aristocracy decided to send their servants out in the middle of the night for a backbreaking load of wooden gold. Unfortunately, the only way to get there was to pass through center city, a decidedly seedier area, worse even than my own neighborhood. It’s not like there was a huge danger; ponies typically didn’t engage in crimes worse than petty theft. Still, the earthly memories of danger in those types of areas made themselves known in the back of my mind. I set off toward my destination, keeping an eye out for my roommate along the way.
There was not a single other being to be found on my journey. It was unnaturally dark out, but I suppose the reason for that could be easily found above me. A translucent pink shield had been erected above the city which blocked out much of the light from the moon and the stars. I smiled to myself as I remember seeing a very similar shield in several episodes of the show I now found myself a part of. In that medium it was the work of Shining Armor, the captain of the guard and later prince of the Crystal Empire. How surreal it was to see it through my own eyes.
In the corner of my eye, I caught a slight movement. I spun my head with a jolt of fear. The ponies were terrified—what pony would be crazy enough to be walking around this time of night? I saw a flash of white as this pony walked under a streetlight. It was a mare, and a rather tall one (even if she only came up to my chest). She seemed skittish, turning her head wildly as she walked, searching endlessly for any followers.
“Wait!” I called out. The pony’s eyes went wide, and she tensed her hind legs, as if ready to spring forward into a gallop. She looked at me and hesitated. I recognized this mare; she had appeared in the background in the show. “You’re Fleur Dis Lee, right?”
She started and her eyes grew wide, although she abandoned her posture of imminent fleeing. “You know me?”
“Yeah, long story. What are you doing out this late?”
She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. Instead, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Who are you, anyway? I’ve heard of this human that’s become trapped with us here. What are you doing out at night?”
I sighed. I was under deep suspicion ever since I’ve come here, at least by anypony who didn’t come to tolerate me through exposure to my presence. “My name’s Melissa, and I’m out because I’m looking for firewood. But what do you mean, trapped?”
“We’re all trapped here. Trapped in this bubble.” She gestured at the magic barrier above us with a hoof. “Trapped in fear and foreboding. It doesn’t matter if we’re attacked anymore. The torment we’re going through is the thought that we might resume our life with nothing happening. It’s a cycle of hope and denial.”
I furrowed my brow. “Isn’t it good you have hope? I mean, it would be worse if everypony just gave into despair.”
“You’d think.” She laughed dryly. “But the only kind of hope that can exist without doubt is pure denial. In the back of our minds, we know that something can happen. Something that can destroy our lives. There’s many paths before us, but we all know one of them is a dark alley that will shatter our peace of mind.”
I stared at her incredulously. “So you’re saying that it’s better to abandon all hope, because then you won’t have anything to lose?”
“Yes. While your daemons stalk you, it's better to avoid them at every turn. While you avoid them, you may live in fear, but you will be safe."
"Isn't it better just to face your problems? Then at least they'll be over."
"Perhaps. Or you might find that they are worse than you ever dreamed. You’ll quickly find that every alley is a dark alley, and that you may find yourself unknowingly walking down the Darkest Alley—your greatest fear, that which you’ve locked deep inside your head. It's far better to deny the evil then to realize the breadth of the evil that stalks you.”
"That's a pretty pessimistic way of looking at things."
She ignored my question, and instead looked up toward the pink-stained heavens. "Why erect such a shield? Those inside will quickly find themselves besieged and desperate, and madness will reign. If the threat is even being blocked out."
I could only stare. I had no idea what she was trying to convey. She looked at me sadly as I tried to come up with something to continue the conversation, but I didn’t have a clue as to how to respond.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Melissa,” she continued, “Although I would advise that you go home. Don’t wander around these streets alone. It’s dangerous, and for reasons I don’t think you understand.”
She turned, her beautiful pink mane seemed as if it were flickering in the flame of the streetlight. Her sudden departure left me dumbfounded and caught unawares.
“Hold on! What do you mean I don’t understand? Why are you out here? Have you seen a brown earth-pony stallion? Fleur, wait!”
But it was too late. She disappeared into the miasma of the fog and the night. Even her hoofsteps seemed to fade far before they should have. This damned fog. It was…unnatural. It felt like it enclosed around me, muffling all of my senses. I had an unpleasant feeling that it was here for me. I wouldn’t be surprised if it simply wrapped around me, following me as the rest of Canterlot remained clear. I felt a shiver go down my spine.
I silently debated whether I should continue on or go back home. The cold was growing more oppressive, and I felt an irrational fear that it would inexorably grow until I turned to ice and shattered into a million painful pieces. I knew it was no better in my drafty house, but perhaps it would be better for my piece of mind to suffer there instead of continue down this road. Then again, I was already halfway there. It would have been a complete waste of time to go so far only to turn back because some crazy mare advised me to. I briefly fantasized about the gentle warmth of a roaring fire, and somehow it felt as if all my insecurities would melt under its influence. I made up my mind, and set my sights down the street in the direction of the wood merchant.
The cityscape grew darker as I traveled on. I noticed that many streetlights had burnt out upon this derelict stretch of road, as if even the ponies that kept them aflame had abandoned this street altogether. I could see the rising monoliths of the city block around me, rising as dark, quadrate gargoyles around me. They stared at me with inconceivable malice, ocular windows reflecting the pink aura of the sky and staring at me with reprieve upon further judgment of my innumerable sins. Subtle sounds echoed through the desolate stone, sounds of my own imagination taunting me. All I wanted was to traverse the city without incident, but my own mind prevented myself from doing so.
The cold consumed me, and the fog darkened my path to the extent that I couldn’t see my shoes as they trudged through the slums of Canterlot. The echoes of myself were lost to eternity, swallowed up by the ever consuming fog. The only thing I could hear was the subtle shifting of grime as I walked. The busy sounds of the capital city were gone, and any sounds that might have emanated from the buildings around me could not be heard.
I stopped. Then what was that noise?
Clip clop, clip clop. The hoofsteps halted shortly after I did. There was somepony following me!
For not the first time that night, I felt panic rise in my chest. Who could it be? Doctor Whooves, Fleur Dis Lee? No… Fleur was too scared to talk to me for long, and the doctor would make his presence known; he would be too curious as to why I was out by myself, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t he? My mind thought back to my previous doubts about my roommate. Where exactly would he go at this time of night? Does he actually truly live with me? Is he even my friend?
I sprinted ahead. The hoofsteps followed me. The panic that had been germinating inside of me blossomed into irrational fear. As I turned down a street, the hoofsteps followed. When I tried to hide behind a crate in a gutter, the hoofsteps stopped, patiently waiting until I choose to resume my flight. There was no escaping them.
I turned down into an alleyway, one that was barely six feet wide. The hoofsteps behind me followed suit, and I became acutely aware of how leisurely they pursued me. Human beings were not built for speed—they were built for endurance. Unfortunately, I was as out-of-shape as any average westerner, and the idea that I could lead them through the city, winding and twisting through the passages until they collapsed from exhaustion was not an option. I could either find help or stop and reason with them. Seeing as how I was a mile away from the castle and I had seen no guards the entire night, I choose the latter.
Breathing heavily, I spun around. I could see nopony there through the fog, but I could hear the sound of the hoofsteps stop as I did. I panted, my exhaustion making itself known through the rhythm of my breathing. It took me a few seconds to catch my breath; seconds that filled me with apprehension, as my panicking mind was sure that uttering the right words as soon as possible was the surest means to save my life.
“I’m Melissa,” I gasped, “I’m not a pony, but I’m not going to hurt you. What do you want?”
The speech was well-practiced. How many times have I had to tell the other ponies of this world that I’m not going to eat them? That I’m called a human? Where I came from? Only for every pony I'd come across to doubt my words. The same conversation that I’ve had over and over had become tedious is all other instances, but I felt renewed vigor to make sure my words were understood. In response, I could only hear breathing through the mist. Not heavy, exhausted breathing like mine, but careful, reserved. Whoever it was had complete control of the situation, and we both knew it.
“Calm down, Melissa,” said the voice through the fog, “You know me.”
The owner of the voice stepped forward, materializing from the blanket of fog. She stood tall, at least taller than most ponies do, even the stallions. The mist wrapped around her legs like sheer fabric, wisping and swirling away as she moved to reveal her pink limbs. Her head emerged from shadow, unveiling a familiar face that carried one of the most unsettling smiles I’d ever seen. I gasped as I recognized the pony before me—Cadance, the princess.
It took me a moment to recover from my stupefaction. I stared in awe at the alicorn, slipping into the familiar feeling of déjà vu that tends to overcome me as I see things in reality that I once saw on a television show. I realized that she was expecting an answer, and I sputtered out the first thing that came to mind.
“What do you mean ‘I know you’? I’ve never met you.”
“Oh, but I disagree,” Cadance hissed, “We’ve met many times before, in different forms and thoughts and disguises.”
I became acutely aware of her overbearing presence. Even though she stood a full head shorter than me, I unconsciously cowered before her, backing into the brick wall behind me. “I…don’t understand.”
“You know me because I am a part of you. I am your fear, your drowning sanity, your self-denial, your demons. I’m here because you’ve been hiding from me.”
“Princess Cadance, you make no sense.”
She took a predatory step towards me, causing me to involuntarily shrink down toward the ground at her overbearing presence. She bent over to stare at my hunched form, a smile growing on her face. I could feel her eyes bear into me, her horrible green eyes…
And then it hit me. The protective pink aura, the threats against the city, all right before spring. As if to answer my mental epiphany, Cadance threw her head back, laughing deep and mercilessly. I gaped as green fire erupted around her. Her figure morphed in the silhouette of the emerald blaze. I instinctively turned my eyes away from the brilliant and terrifying aurora. When I once again dared to gaze back at the figure, it was no longer Cadance that stood before me.
An ebony, insectoid equine laughed into the night.
I could feel the immobilizing frost of panic seizing my mind. Every thought that coursed through my incapacitated brain consisted of some form of "Run". As my eyes glanced desperately around the moon-lit alley, no path of escape made itself aware to me. I opened my mouth to scream, but only the meek mewling of a cornered animal escaped my lips. The dark figure before me grinned at my misery, ecstasy written upon her every feature.
“Do you know who I am, little one?” she asked, mirthless hissing and buzzing creeping into her every word. I tried to reply, but found I could only nod my head in the slightest gesture of assent. “I think you do. My name is Chrysalis, divine queen of the changeling race.”
“I know.”
I felt my head forced to the right as she struck the side of my face with her hoof. I felt the joint of my jaw ache and tasted blood, My eyes leapt up and I looked at her with utter fear. Her face, however, was impassive. “You will address me with respect, human. Yes, I know what you are. I know who you are. You, however, merely know my name, which is of the least consequence to either of us right now. Do you know what I really am?”
“No, only that you are queen of the changelings,” I replied meekly. Seeing her eyebrow rise, I quickly added, “…your highness.”
“It seems that you are more lost than I had previously thought. Do you even remember how you got here?”
“I was searching for firewood...”
“There is no firewood here, in this alley, in this city, in this…fantasy. Besides, you misunderstand my question. Do you remember how you got to Equestria, human?”
The question struck me harder than her hoof had. In the first second, I opened my mouth to answer such an easy inquiry. That quickly passed, as I found myself without a clue as to the answer. I remembered my parents packing a small suitcase full of clothes before they took me to a building full of ponies and humans. I remembered that the humans slowly disappeared. I remembered…my brother. What did he have to do with it again? My mind came up blank. There was a definite haze between my memories of leaving Earth and living with Doctor Whooves. I don’t remember how I got here, nor did I remember why I had come here. With a sharp intake of breath, I realized that I had become lost in my thoughts again, and Chrysalis had been growing impatient. I tensed, expecting to be struck again, and said quickly, “No, your majesty.”
“How very sad. The little girl is lost in a strange place and stumbled down the Darkest Alley of her fantasy world. Well, I say ‘stumbled’, but you had been meaning to come here all along. You had been meaning to find me, as I had been meaning to find you. I am your fear, your resolve, your denial, and your daemons.”
With a burst of emerald magic, I was telepathically spun around. The ungraceful and forceful maneuver left me off-balance, and I threw my arms out to catch my fall. Long before I hit the ground, however, my hands impacted upon the grimy stone wall of the back of the alley. My head was pushed up against it and I heard the slam of hooves on either side of my hands as Chrysalis raised up on her hind legs behind me. I felt her haunches press against my ass as she breathed lustily into my ear.
"I've been waiting for this for so long,” she whispered. Her long forked tongue slithered around and into my ear, and the warm, wet sensation caused me to shake in fear. She groaned and withdrew her tongue. She grabbed my ear in her muzzle and bit down with her fangs on the cartilage. I let out a muffled scream. She laughed.
Through the throbbing pain, I heard the telltale sign of magic. A distorted reflection of green glared off the moisture of the dark stone my cheek was pressed against. I clenched my eyes shut in fearful anticipation. I felt warm blood drip off of my earlobe. Tendrils of magic wrapped around my ankles under my pants, circling up my legs like vines clinging to an ancient column. As the tendrils reached my knees, the fabric began to rip and the cold air assaulted my calves.
“What are you scared of, Melissa?” Chrysalis hissed into my ear, voice full of lust and want.
I whimpered in response. Not satisfied with my answer, the queen placed her teeth on my bleeding ear once again, and I gasped. Desperately trying to avoid another painful bite, I choked out, “You!”
She slowly released my ear. “Your greatest fear is fear itself? I think that as the night drifts onward, you will revise that answer. You spend your life running from me, but I am but the harbinger of that which manifests in your diseased mind.” The tendrils reached the top of my thighs, and my pants were now just tattered rags that hung off my legs. I could feel them teasing at the edge of my panties. “You will truly learn what lurks in the Darkest Alley of your mind when this night is over. Whether your daemons revisit you is up to you, of course. I cannot make you accept them—I can only remind you of their existence.”
Her magic passed over my underwear and wrapped slowly around my abdomen. “Stop, please,” I begged, “I don’t want this. I’ll do anything. Please…”
Her long, serpentine tongue assaulted my lips as I tried to beg. Instinctively, I pressed them shut and tried to turn my head away. Magic forced me to stay still, and the strength of her muscle forced my lips open. I felt the wet appendage slip between my teeth, the fork of her tongue wrapping around my own in a perverted, writhing hug. I though briefly of biting down on it in the hopes that the shock and pain would distract the changeling long enough for me to escape. The little logic left in my brain reminded me that there was nopony in the streets to help me, and that I would never be able to outrun a winged creature. Maybe if she took what she wanted she would leave me be.
The tendrils had made their way up to my chest and slipped under my bra. I gasped as they wrapped around my breasts, squeezing and caressing. To my shame, I can’t deny my excitement at this event. It was only bodily excitement, for my mind was still overcome with anxiety and despair. Chrysalis hummed into my mouth, her wet, squirming tongue beginning to slide down into my throat.
The tendrils had abandoned their previous exercise of touching my breasts. They magically untwined themselves from me and pulled in opposite directions, straining against my clothes. With an enormous rip, they were torn away from me and laid in tatters around my feet. Only my panties remained to shield my pale body from the merciless cold and the hard, muscled form of the changeling behind me.
As my knees grew stiff from the cold and pained from my awkward position, a warmth spread over my body which emanated the queen. Green fire burst forth from her and reflected off of the alleyway. My world was bathed in the flickering glow of the unholy light. The figure pressing me against the stone wall grew noticeably smaller before pushing itself off of me. With hesitance at the sudden change, I slowly turned around so that my back was against the wall. My eyes shot open.
No longer did my attacker take the form of a changeling. Standing before me with a most uncharacteristic grin stood my roommate, Doctor Whooves. I slipped down to a crouched position in shock, my back scraping painfully against the rock wall. Fear and anger overtook me. If she just wants to assault me, why do this? Why torture me psychologically? My body shook furiously from the tandem assaults of the cold and fear of being forced to pleasure the form of my friend. I was scared I would never be able to look at the real Doctor the same way again.
I made to stand, but his hooves pressed against my shoulders, pressing me backward into the wall. The cold, rough stone scraped at my back and a jutted piece of the masonry jabbed at me. The look upon my attacker’s face was sheer lust and glee.
“Stay,” he commanded. I shuddered at the perfectly matched and yet mirthless rendition of his voice from this monster. He let go of me and brought his muzzle to my chest. His firm, horse-like lips brushed against my nipple. I shook.
“You need to be strong, Melissa,” he said softly. I was taken aback. I was not expecting to hear a word of comfort from Chrysalis, and to hear it in the tones of my friend’s voice, even matching his calm demeanor, haunted me. “You need to realize the truth…”
The beast opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around my breast. Loud, obscene suckling sounds echoed off of the stone as he lewdly and unceremoniously assaulted me. I shut my eyes as tight as I could and tried not to think about the physical sensations. I tried to shift my consciousness to a plan for when my torture was complete. Chrysalis, having been satisfied, would leave me. I would have to make my way back to the apartment, naked. Hopefully the real Doctor would be home and have gotten firewood, if that was indeed why he left. I could go to the Royal Guard in the morning.
If she doesn’t kill you, my traitorous mind thought.
The warm respite of the mouth upon my chest quickly left, leaving cold saliva to quickly refreeze it. The Doctor doppelganger had moved down to my crotch and sniffed, smiling.
“Human pussy always smells so interesting to me,” he said, “So much different that my own or even a pony’s.”
He roughly grabbed at the elastic with his teeth and attempted to pull my panties off. I reflexively grabbed them to keep them from being removed. However, he pulled with such force that I began to be pulled along the ground. My head banged back against the wall sending a shockwave through my nervous system. Taking advantage of my momentary loss of concentration, he succeeded in pulling them completely off. I was now completely naked, exposed to the world and the monster.
He leaned down as if to put his mouth on me, and a whimper escaped my lips. I slammed my eyes shut as tight as I go and intook a great breath, fearing what was to come next.
It didn’t come.
After what seemed like forever, I chanced opening my eyes to reveal…nothing. There was nobody here. Only the scant falling snowflake and the dark, hollow emptiness of the deserted city street. I didn’t even have time to feel relief; only shock resonated though me. I looked around for any clothes that I might yet be able to wear, but there was nothing. Not even the tattered shreds of the clothes that the magic tentacles had ripped remained.
My ears perked up, and panic once again flooded through me. I could hear hoofsteps approaching quickly. I shrunk back against the wall and pulled into a fetal position, unconsciously trying to make myself as small as possible. The hooves turned the corner, and a familiar mare gazed in my direction. Relief washed over me.
“Fleur!” I choked out, my shivers barely allowing me to speak. “Help me!”
She galloped up to me and brushed my cheek with her frigid hoof. “Why didn’t you listen to me? I told you to stay where it’s safe!”
“I-I don’t know. Something…compelled me. H-help me”
Instead of helping me to my feet, however, the unicorn gazed up towards the sky. “Funny. That great pink shield up there. It makes ponies feel so safe. But all it does is lock the evil inside.”
What is wrong with this mare? “Fleur…”
“Do you know what I think, Melissa? I think that you need to hide. Forever. Forget what the doctor says. Forget about that which stalks you. You’ll only be safe if you avoid everything you can. The shield may keep your daemons trapped inside with you, but it makes you feel safe.”
She looked straight into my eyes with intensity. I found myself lost in the emerald green irises before me. Finally a pony that… Wait. Green eyes…
“You’re not Fleur.”
“I beg to differ. I am, and I am not. Would it help you to know that Fleur never existed?”
“B-bullshit.”
“It is not. What she represents, however, is completely real, and it is a part of me. Enough talk—night is drawing to a close. Bend over.”
Before I could even summon the brainpower to respond, green magic surrounded her horn and the force of her telekinesis flipped me so that I was on my knees, forehead pressed against the jagged wall. Her hot breath rhythmically washed over my exposed pussy. Her soft muzzle pressed into it, pushing against my sex as she inhaled my scent. I breathed in sharply.
She extended the very tip of her tongue out and caressed my slit with it. It was unexpectedly gentle, and my insides squirmed against the conflicted feelings of pleasure and violation. She danced along the limits of my parts, never quite going so far as to be definitively sex. Her tongue ran up until it almost touched my ass, but quickly changed direction, slipping just barely inside my slit as it went down to brush ever so slightly against my clitoris. It was intended to turn me on, and it was—unfortunately—working.
“I can’t protect you forever, Melissa. Your opportunity to take refuge in me is waning. Night is waning.”
She made no sense. This was, assuredly, Chrysalis. Why in the world would she think that I would ever take refuge in her simply because she wore a different form?
My cheek was pressed up against the cold wall, my body heat being barely enough to begin to melt the snow off of my back. The Fleur-figure moved to my side so that her face was next to mine. On my knees, I was over a head shorter than the form of Fleur. She put her hoof under my chin and lifted my head up to look her in the eyes. A gentle kiss was planted upon my lips, far different than the bizarre and fear inspiring assault she had performed in her changeling form.
“Close your eyes, Melissa. This nightmare is almost over. Your daemons remain to be satiated.”
I did as I was told. Even with my eyes shut, I could see a flash of green through my eyelids as she changed forms once again. I breathed heavily through my nose, each breath freezing me from the inside. The wind whipped through my hair, and the light snow melted as it came to rest on my cheek, mixing with my tears.
My mind attempted to ready itself against this final assault, but I could not get it to work. Panic had soaked into its folds, intoxicated it with immobilizing fear. A chill ran down my spine, and I shivered violently. A warm hand was placed gently upon my back in an attempt at consolation, but all it conveyed was foreboding.
Wait…hand?
In spite of myself, I turned my head to the figure behind me and looked into a pair of very familiar eyes. Frigid breath caught in my throat and my eyes shot open at the horror of the sadistic psychological torture that awaited me. I quickly turned my head away.
“Shh…just relax, Melissa. This is supposed to be fun, right?”
Words ejected themselves from my lips, not coming from my conscious mind, but as if recited from some horrifying script written in the language of my greatest nightmares. “I don’t want this.”
“Quit being so uptight. Nobody’s going to find out.”
“Christian, please…”
A hand painfully slapped my ass, the cold causing the sting to resound ten times its normal level. I cried out, and my tormenter laughed. “God, you’re so melodramatic. You’d think you’d get used to it by now.”
Through the ever increasing torrent of the biting wind, I heard the familiar and petrifying sound of a zipper being undone. His hand grabbed my butt, and I felt the tip of his erection playing at my pussy. He groaned, loving every minute of my torture. I had to stop this, somehow.
“I think I heard Mom’s car,” I stuttered. My ability to speak was rapidly being torn from me from fear and ice.
“She’s not coming back anytime soon.” His mirthless words somehow more cold and distant than even mine. “Just stop shivering already. It’s not that cold in here.”
His head penetrated me and he emitted a groan of pure ecstasy. He started pumping me with the untamed desire of a desperate degenerate. My head was thrown back as he savagely pulled my hair, and my gaze focused upon the white ceiling. Snow fell into my eyes, and the heavens looked down upon my tear-ridden face. He pushed into me even harder, his dick pressing against the limits of my vagina. I screamed in pain. I was going to be bleeding tomorrow. Again.
With further massive thrusts, he let go of my hair and used his newly freed hand to slap my ass once again. I threw my head down upon my My Little Pony bed sheets, my eyes focusing on an innocent rendition of Twilight Sparkle before they slammed shut once more. Melted snow and fallen tears pooled around my face.
His pace was rapidly increasing, and the force of his motions quickly became unbearable to my tormented cervix. The volume of his grunts grew louder than even my sobs. I grabbed my sheets in my hands, gripping them with all I had to keep from crying out. What was once soft wind grew into a cascade of merciless cold.
With a great final grunt, he grabbed my hips and pulled me towards him. His penis ground into my cervix, and I had the horrible vision of it pushing through. After what seemed like forever, he pulled out of me and I fell upon the soft mattress. He panted rapidly.
I felt the familiar sensation of money being thrown on my naked body. “There’s the money for Plan B”, he breathed. My door creaked open as he made his exit.
“Remember, if you ever tell anyone, I’ll slit your throat.”
* * * * * * *
I found myself face down in my bed, covered in sweat. The tyrannical sun pressed at my eyelids, allowed into my room through the betrayal of the open window. My mind was groggy in the early morning hours, and the only thing that registered in my thoughts was my wish to return to sleep, and how uncomfortably cold I was. Why hadn’t the Doctor gotten more firewood yet?
Wait, the Doctor… With a sudden jolt of horrid adrenaline, the events of the previous night came flooding into the forefront of my mind as the levees of torpor broke. Where had he gone? Was he okay? The horrible possibility that he had met the same entity that I had, the demon stalking the streets of Canterlot, stabbed into my uneasy mind. What had she done with him? Why had she taken his form last night? The irrational consternation that built in my head shifted from skeptical anxiety to full-fledged panic. I looked toward the fireplace, that damned apparatus that started this whole fucking mess. It was still dead and cold, and the frigid air around me sang testament to its ineptitude. If the Doctor had indeed gone out to get fuel, his success in that endeavor would be manifested in the hearth before me. He had obviously failed.
The more pressing question was what to do now. Obviously, I was living in some past version of Equestria that lagged several seasons behind the timeline of the show. Morality demanded that I go to the castle immediately and inform the princesses; my emotional state demanded that I hide under my covers and remain there until I die of starvation. My mind was torn in two over what I thought and what I felt, and I feel that if I did not reconcile this discrepancy, I may very well go insane. I was lost inside my own head, and I barely registered the sound of door hinges squeaking.
Without fully thinking of the ramifications, I lazily turned my head toward the noise. To my utter surprise and confusion, my enigmatic roommate stepped through the threshold, looking tired but otherwise none the worse for wear. He had his usual clipboard underneath one arm, with a cup of coffee grasped in his hoof. Unconsciously, my jaw plummeted towards the floor.
“Good morning, Melissa,” he said exhaustedly, “How did you sleep?”
I was too dumbstruck to answer such an infuriating question. How the fuck did he think I slept? I stared indignantly as he pulled up his usual chair, setting the coffee down on the floor and flipping through sheets on the clipboard. I wanted to scream at him in a million angry curses. How could he just leave in the middle of the night like that? Why would he leave me in this frigid room? My acerbic replies, however, were lost through the mishandling of my sleep muddied brain.
“It was freezing. I couldn’t sleep.”
He frowned in genuine empathy. “I’m terribly sorry about that. This is an old building, far overdue for renovation, if you ask me. A repairman is supposed to be here this morning to fix the problem.”
Not the first time, I was taken completely aback by the Doctor. How is a repair-pony supposed to fix a fireplace? I was about to point this out, but the capriciousness of a confused and sleep-deprived mind knew no bounds.
“Then where did you go last night?”
It was now Doctor Whooves’s turned to look confused. “I went home, Melissa. Like I do every night.”
“Doctor, what’s going on? Why would you rent a place with me if you already have one? Why would you leave me here with no firewood if you have that much money?”
He sighed, and set down his clipboard. He looked at me with a very concerned and sincere gaze. “Melissa, do you remember who I am?”
What kind of stupid question was that? “Of course I do—you’re Doctor Whooves!”
“Doctor…who?”
“Yeah, that’s the joke,” I said with a sneer, “Very funny, Doctor.”
“I am not joking, Melissa. You’ve had these problems before. My name is Dr. Breuer, and I am your psychologist.”
I stared at him in extreme confusion. What the hell was going on?
“I’m very sorry to see that your ‘fantasy world’ problem has reemerged,” he continued, “I had thought that we had worked through that issue last week.”
“What are you talking about?!” I screamed like a desperate child trying to cling to a melting ice flotilla amidst a sea of insanity, “We talked about this last night! The only fantasy world problem I have is being stuck in this stupid pony universe!”
“So that’s what you thought I meant...” He took off his glasses and rubbed his temple. “No, you’re living in a fantasy world in the psychological sense. You’ve been through a great trauma, and your mind has slipped into delusions and hallucinations to try to bury that memory. I assure you, Melissa, that Equestria is just a setting in a television show. You are currently located at Connecticut State Hospital.”
I was so lost at this suggestion that I simply sat and stared at him. His vibrant green eyes were sincere. Either he lost his marbles, he’s a very good liar, or he’s…telling the truth. I was on the edge of complete mental meltdown. I threw myself off the bed and strode toward my window. I gazed past the grimy glass and steel grate to try to see Canterlot below. All I could see was the side of the building next to us. Of course; I don’t have a street view.
Something else in the doctor’s statement called out to me. “What do you mean ‘great trauma’? I had a boring life before I came to Equestria, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
“You don’t remember, Melissa? Never mind, of course you don’t. You’re here because your brother has raped you, more than once. When he was discovered last year, he was sent to prison and you were sent here. It’s my belief that you had underlying psychological issues that were triggered by the abuse.”
“Okay, now I know that’s bullshit! It wasn’t Christian that raped me, it was Queen Chrysalis! She’s a changeling, and…” My sentence petered off. Things weren’t adding up. How had the doctor known what happened last night? My eyes narrowed, and my growing confusion started sharply veering toward suspicion. “Where were you last night?”
“I told you, I went home. Where were you last night?”
“Well, according to your version of things, I was here all night.”
“That is true, but where did you think you were?”
“I was…I was freezing and I couldn’t sleep, so I went down to the city to get firewood.” He raised an eyebrow, but gestured at me to continue. “I tried to ask you to come with me, but you weren’t in your room. When I went outside, I met a strange mare—that’s a female pony—and she said I should go back inside because I would get stuck in a cycle of hope and denial, or something. She said that it’s better to spend my life fearing dark alleys than walk deliberately down the Darkest Alley.”
“Hmm…I’ll talk about that in a bit. Please continue.”
“Um, okay. I noticed a dark shadow following me. I tried to run from it, but it cornered me. It turned out to be Chrysalis, a shape shifter and enemy of the ponies from one of the episodes. She cornered me and…raped me.” I finished the sentence barely above a whisper, thoughts of the previous night’s events sobering me.
“I see. Did she shape shift when she did this?”
“Yes.”
“Which forms did she take?”
“She did it as herself at first. Then she changed into, well, you. Then it was Fleur Dis Lee, the mare I met earlier. Then it was…Christian.” An involuntary chill ran down my spine, causing my body to absorb all the hateful, icy air around me.
“What happened then?”
“Nothing. I passed out and woke up in my bed.”
“Well, that’s quite a story. First off, I think it’s obvious that you were dreaming.”
“I wasn’t dreaming!”
“Then how did you wake up in your bed?”
“I, um, I don’t know.”
“Okay, then. Hear me out on this. Let’s just pretend that you were dreaming and we’ll talk about what your mind was trying to do, okay?”
I crossed my arms and grunted. “Fine.”
“Have you ever heard of a man named Sigmund Freud?”
“It sounds familiar.”
“He’s known as the father of psychology, and he had many theories that most behavioral psychologists today disagree with. One of the main things he hypothesized about was dream interpretation.”
I shrugged. This wasn’t getting me anywhere about my own conundrums. I was still torn about whether to see Celestia about Chrysalis. Doctor Whooves had always been a weird pony, but today he was way off the deep end. I hoped that if I listened, he would shut up soon, and I could get back to doing what I needed to do, whatever that was.
“He thought that psychologically affected people could repress unwanted memories,” he continued, “But that they would manifest themselves in dreams. Each person’s dreams symbolically related to them alone. For example, if one person dreamed about flying birds, it could symbolize freedom. However, to a bird keeper, the same thing could symbolize work and the daily grind. Do you understand?”
I shrugged.
“Yes, well… I’m going to take a crack at what I think your dream means, just as a point of discussion. I believe that in your dream, the female pony you met… What was her name?”
“Fleur Dis Lee.”
“Yes, Fleur. She urged you to go back to your house and ignore reality. She represents denial, your subconscious desire to continue to use any means necessary to block the unpleasant memories from your conscious mind. Your dream entity characterized by me, or Doctor Whooves, as you believe, is the subconscious part of you that knows that your delusions aren’t what they appear to be.”
“I don’t have any delusions!”
He flinched, almost imperceptibly, at my sudden scream. “This is just an exercise, remember?”
I was beginning to get irritated now. While this crazy stallion babbled one, I was being delayed conveying to the ponies about the threat that faced them. My eyes flung wide open. How was it that Whooves knew about what happened last night? Why was he delaying me?
“I believe it’s obvious that this shape shifter you saw is from a deeper part of your psyche. She is your fear, the opponent of your unconscious desire to leave unpleasant things buried.”
He looked toward me with those same, sad green eyes. The melancholy expression he wore quickly shifted to one of confusion as he saw my shocked face. Everything was falling into place. I understood everything now.
I stood up from my bed and took a threatening step toward him. “Your green eyes are showing, doctor…”
“Green eyes? I’ve always had green eyes, Melissa.”
He took a step toward the door, visibly uneasy at my aggressive stance. He reached toward the door handle. The bastard was trying to escape!
I leapt toward him, grabbing his coat in my hands. His disgustingly green eyes went wide at my sudden attack, although he succeeded in pushing me off. I tumbled to the floor, shouting obscenities as the door slammed shut before me. I jumped up and slammed my fists against the cold metal. I stared daggers at the doctor through the small viewing window.
“You fucking changeling asshole! They’ll beat you all! I know how this ends!”
He was not disturbed by my rant; his eyes changed from a look of shock to one of sadness yet again.
“Melissa, you’re not well. Please calm down.”
“Fuck you!”
“Melissa, you said you left last night to get firewood, right?”
I stopped, not dropping my furious gaze. What was he getting at?
“Look around your room,” he continued. “There’s no fireplace!”
I sneered at him and pointed toward the object in question. “What do you call that, then?”
“A radiator."
I turned around. Son of a bitch—he was right. Who the hell was this guy? Did he use some kind of changeling magic on me, like Chyrsalis did to Shining Armor? Was he making me see what he wanted me to see, to keep me docile? Well it wasn’t going to work.
“I’m not falling for it, asshole. When you get back here…”
He looked me straight in the eyes with those repulsive green irises. “Melissa, you know where you can find the Darkest Alley?” I glared at him. “The Darkest Alley is located in your head, where your deepest, darkest secrets lie hidden. Every human being has one, but the monsters hiding in some people are too ugly and too vindictive for them to handle.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.
