Verse of the Void

Chapter 1: Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

He awoke groggily.  The first thing he noticed was that he was strapped to a table.  The second thing he noticed was that there was no light in the room, it took him a second to realize that his eyes were, in fact, open.  The darkness wasn't all consuming though, there were rays of light, beaming down from somewhere.  He couldn't turn his head far enough to see much.  The room was underground.  The dirt walls and wood floor panels over his head made it obvious. Scattered about the room were odd pieces of machinery, most very dangerous looking. He was pretty sure there was still the flesh of some animal stuck to one of them.  At least, he hoped it was an animal. Not wanting to take in any more of the gruesome scenery, he stared at the ceiling and waited.

Seconds turned to minutes.  He found his gaze idly sweeping over the room a second, and then a third time.  Each time he had a harder time pulling his eyes away from the shreds of meat that he now noticed on each of the machines.  He found himself imagining the terror and pain those ponies had faced as they were mutilated beyond recognition as anything other than ‘some dead thing’.

He forced himself away from those thoughts.  Resting his head back on the table, he closed his eyes.  He couldn't relax, but he supposed that was a good thing.  When faced with what were probably one’s last hours, he reasoned, one shouldn't be able to feel at ease. Especially if one is strapped to a table in a torture dungeon.

This is no time for me to be philosophical, I have to get out of here! Letting out a sigh, he tested the straps holding his legs down.  Not so much as a budge.  Somepony had put a good deal of effort into making his escape impossible.  Not that I won’t try… I seem to have quite some time. He twisted his hooves around, trying to find some slack in the straps.  Before any true progress was made, a blast of light lit the room.  A rectangle shone on to the wall in front of him, the silhouette of a pony walking through.

“Hello? Who’s there?” he asked.

He got no response.  Just the steady thumping of hooves as his captor walked down the stairs.  Whoever it was didn’t seem to be in any hurry, that was bad.  That meant that nopony knew... or worse, that nopony cared.

His captor strode up next to the table and stopped,  It took him a bit to adjust to the lighting.

“Big Mac!” he sighed, his head flopping back onto the table, “Oh thank Celestia it’s you.  You had me worried there.  Mind untying me?”

“Eyup,” Big Macintosh didn’t move.

“Um… Is that a yes to untying me? Or a yes to minding?” He asked.

“Ah don’t know who you are, but ya showed up at a bad time,” Big Macintosh walked towards the wall his captive couldn't see.

“What do you mean you don’t know who I am?” he chuckled, “I’m Cedar. We've been friends since before we got our cutie marks.”

“Cedar’s been dead fer years,” Big Macintosh stated.

There was a long silence, interrupted only by the thumps of Big Macintosh’s hooves and the clang of metal on metal.

“Ah needed to take out some stress.  You happened to be passing by. Looked mighty lost. I figured nopony round here would miss ya,” Big Macintosh continued.

Cedar’s response was cut off by the scraping of rusty wheels. When the noise stopped, what looked like a thresher was sitting at the foot of the table. Big Macintosh took a crank in his teeth and started turning it. Slowly the blades of the thresher awoke. There spinning almost silent. Cedar wondered what they had been greased with.

Pony blood.

Shaking the thought out of his head, Cedar tried not to think about one of his best friends killing him. He tried not to think about the shreds of meat he would become. He tried not to think of his blood greasing the spinning gears. He tried not to wonder what would happen to his body.  He tried not to think about the impending agony he would be put through.

“Any last words?” Big Macintosh asked.

I only have one chance.

“Could… Could you lean down…” Cedar choked.

“Too scared to speak?” Big Macintosh smiled, softly chuckling to himself. None the less, he lowered his head to hear Cedar’s last words.

“I’m sorry.” Ceder whispered. In a flash he had brought his head up to smash into Big Macintosh’s nose. His front hooves flying up to his nose, Big Macintosh stumbled backwards, right into the still spinning thresher. Cedar closed his eyes. There was a bone splitting crunch. Then something warm and wet splattered across his body.

Cedar lied there, his eyes closed. He found he was able to relax his tensed shoulders. His head finally rested back on the table. He noticed he was gasping. No… I’m crying.  Cedar let himself sob. He had lost a good friend.I've killed a good friend. Cedar didn’t give any thought to what could have made his ‘good friend’ act the way he did. Though he did wonder about one thing he had said.

“Cedar’s been dead fer years.”

Cedar didn't know how much time had passed, but he hadn't made any progress in unraveling what Big Mac had said.

I know I never died. And so should Big Mac. We saw each other last weekend, he knows I haven’t gone anywhere… Did I do something to upset him? Cedar was too scared someone else would hear him if he voiced his thoughts. He didn't want anyone to find him. He just wanted to get off this table, out of this room, and wash the blood off his…fucking everywhere.

Cedar took a deep breath, then opened his eyes. Everything was a deep red. His chest, what was left of Big Mac. The now still thresher. Cedar forced the bile back down his throat. Big Macintosh’s skull had jammed the blades. The skin on the left half his face gone. Torn off by the dull blades, but it was what was still there that had Cedar reaching. The right side looked into the distance, fear still in it’s eyes, frozen the moment Big Macintosh had passed. But the left. The left side of his face… Muscle and bone, red on white, teeth grimacing, flecks of mane stuck to the drying blood, and his eye. Big Macintosh’s left eye seemed to stare, unblinking, directly at Cedar. Cedar closed his eyes, trying to keep the image from burning into his mind.

But it was too late. The back of Cedar’s eyelids had that eye on them. That judging eye. Cedar tried to conjure up other images. He was in his workshop, carving a figurine. Shaving away the coverings of beauty. Ceder reached for more sandpaper, but his hoof instead, felt a firm jelly. Cedar looked at what he had grabbed. It was that eye. That rueful eye. Cedar submerged himself in a deeper fantasy.  He was in bed, waiting for his lover to emerge from the washroom. First a leg slid into view, then a second, curving to grip the door frame. Then it stepped around, that eye. That hateful eye.

Cedar awoke. The nightmare fading. He sighed. Though he was still on the table, and covered in dried blood, at least he didn't have to see that eye. He wondered how much time had passed.

“Big Mac? Where’d ya run off to?”

Applejack! Cedar found himself unable to speak still. Oh please. Oh please. Cedar didn’t know what he was begging for. Did he want Applejack to find him, covered in her dead brother’s blood? Or did he hope that she passed by, sparing him the guilt?

“Now Ah know ya told me not to come inta yer stallion-cave. But if ya don't get your butt up here I’m gona have ta come down and get ya,” Applejack called, “Ya been down there all day and it ain't healthy to miss lunch and supper!”

Yes, she's coming down! Fuck, she's coming down!

“Ah know ya told me I wouldn't be able to accept what Ah see down here. But Ah can't imagine it's that bad. Some pinups, a shelf of adult magazines, maybe a few ‘aids’. Ah might not like it, but Ah won't hate ya for what… Ah… find…” Applejack trailed off.

“It wasn't me,” Cedar suddenly found his voice, “Well I guess it kind of was but it was in self defense and he came after me and...”

“Shut it,” Applejack ordered Cedar. So Cedar laid there, staring at the ceiling. He then recognized the quiet sobbing he had missed while he tried to blurt out an explanation.

“Not you too,” Applejack sobbed, “Daisy, Lyra, Sweetie Belle… Why do we keep losing ponies to this? Why… why did you do it?”

When Applejack had calmed down enough, she got Cedar off the table. Cedar was now finally able to see the whole picture. What was left of Big Macintosh was on the floor, bloody bits and orgran shreds leading to the thresher. Everywhere above his upper chest was gone, all that remained of that was his head.

And that eye.

Cedar shuddered at the thought. Still he helped Applejack gather what they could to burry. Not having a box, or jar, they left Big Macintosh in a puddle of a pile in the cellar. Climbing up the stairs, Applejack invited Cedar for a meal and a place to stay the night. Cedar agreed, though he also asked for a bath. A request that was quickly granted. A quick hose down in the yard later, Cedar more looked better than felt better, but it was still nice to get the blood off.

Dinner was awkward. The Applejack and Cedar eating out in the barn, separate from the rest of the family, saying it had something to do with Big Mac. The two ponies finished their meal in silence. Neither wanted to go back to the house, so they didn’t.

Cedar remembered the evenings that they had done this, albeit without the murder of Applejack’s brother.  Cedar had known the Apple family since he got his cutie mark, he took dead trees from Sweet Apple Acres to use in his carpentry workshop,. He already knew Big Mac from school, so he was happy to help Cedar haul the trees to his shop. Eventually he started spending more of his free time with his friend. It was during this time that he got to know Big Mac’s sister better. The two had wound up dating for a while. It was more of a convenience thing than real love. But they ended on good terms and remained a listening ear for the other when they needed it. Cedar was brought out of his memories when Applejack broke the silence.

“Twilight's doing that now,” Applejack stated, looking at the sunset.

Cedar just nodded. Another moment passed in silence.

“Ah want to know something,” Applejack fiddled with her forehooves before looking over to Cedar, “How… How are ya here? Alive an' all that?”

“I don't know how to answer,” Cedar shrugged, “I remember going to bed last night, then I was here. In one of your fields. And then I was on that table…”

“But ya died almost two years ago,” Applejack stated, Cedar froze, “Ah went to yer funeral an' saw ya buried an' everythin.”

Cedar had no answers. He didn't even know where to start. So he simply didn't. Another long silence descended upon the two. Applejack staring at Cedar, both in concern and in fear. Cedar tried to ignore her looks, but kept glancing back to see if she had stopped.

“What happened?” Cedar asked, “What happened after I. After I died.”

“Well, your murder really shocked ponies. No one knew how ta handle it,” Applejack paused for a deep breath, “They, skinned you… It was never found. We don't know what that pony did with it. And Ah don't want to find out. We still haven't caught 'em. But soon others… Daisy was found burying a one in her garden. Lyra did this weird thing to their hooves.

“Everypony is on guard now. No one is the same, not after Princess Celestia.  We were called in to stop her, the bearers of the Elements of Harmony.  We did, but Rarity and Pinkie Pie… That was almost three months ago. Ah haven't seen Twilight since, she locked herself in the Ponyville Library shortly after. Spike comes out for food. Never talks anymore. Ah think Rarity's death hit him hard. Rainbow hasn't set foot on the ground since then. Ah see her flying by sometimes. Ah wave to her, sometimes she waves back.

“After Rarity died, Sweetie Belle burned down the boutique. Her parents trapped inside. Twilight said she wound up cutting off her own horn and running off into the Everfree. Ditzy Doo freaks out anytime anyone mentions any kind of pastry. Mayor Mare is running a drug ring. Ah've been completely ignoring Applebloom. Ah don't want to know what she's up to.”

With that confession Applejack broke down crying. Cedar scooted next to her and gave her a comforting pat on the back. Applejack leaned over and cried on Cedar's shoulder. After a bit, Cedar gave into sobbing too. The two cried until long after the sun went down.

When the two had worn out their emotions, reduced the crying to sniffles, Applejack pushed herself up. Cedar got to his knees to follow her.

“You can sleep out here,” Applejack ordered softly.

Cedar gave a weak nod. Waiting until she was gone to curl up on a pile of hay.

The next morning Cedar was woken by Applebloom and invited in for breakfast. He was introduced as ‘an old friend’. Granny Smith seemed to be suspicious, but held her tongue. Applebloom either didn't know, or didn't care.

“Ah have bad news,” Applejack began after the meal had been finished and the dishes cleared, “Big Mac…Big Macintosh is… is dead.” She paused to let the news seep in. “Ah found him, Ah found him dead. He had tried to kill Cedar here… Tied him to a table…” Applejack broke off into a fit of crying.

“Ah'll go get the guard,” Applebloom offered, shock keeping her rational and stoic.

“Yew'd bett'r leave. Less Ya want a whole heap 'o questions,” Granny Smith warned Cedar.

With a nod, Cedar turned to the door. He glanced back at Applejack. She was a sobbing wreck. He hoped she’d keep to herself today. And I killed her brother. Cedar mentally kicked himself. How could he have done something so terrible to an already emotionally troubled family.

Well I didn't know at the time…