"BABS! LOOK!"
"You got a cutiemark!"
"Babs! Babs! Babs...!"
*gasp*
"WATCH OU-"
"CELESTIA DAMMIT BABS, IF YOUZE DON'T GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED I'LL KICK YOUR ASS INTO NEXT TUESDAY!"
Babs awoke with a start. She had slept in, yet again, and now she was paying the price. Her mother was standing right next to her with an expression of pure rage on her face. Babs' mother was nice looking when she was young, but the years have not been treating her well. She had a short, burgundy mane, and a yellow coat, wrinkles of anger and worry clear in her stern face. Her cutiemark was of a boxing glove, and it was no wonder why. Babs' mother was a very angry mare. In her prime she was a boxer, the top of the local circuit, but then Babs came along. Babs always knew her mother resented her a bit. Her mother was on her way to the top when she became pregnant, and now she'll never make it. Babs' mother sold oranges now, and that was not what she wanted to do. Babs' mom, who we'll name Blood Orange, was not happy with her daughter.
"Alrights, mom, I'm up!" exclaimed Babs as she jumped out of bed.
"Damn right, you are! Now grab some toast and get your ass to school!" yelled Blood as Babs ran out of the room to get her saddlebag.
Babs took a quick stop in the kitchen to grab some toast before she bolted out the door. 'Shit, late again!'
Babs was standing at the front of class. In front of her, a white and blue pegasus stallion with a name tag that said Mr.Cloud, was looking at her with an annoyed glare. "Late again, huh Babs?" he said in a nearly apathetic tone, obviously being used to such a common occurrence.
"Yeah, sorry teach. Won't happen again, promise!" exclaimed Babs.
"Yeah, sure, sit down." said Mr.Cloud.
As Babs sat down, she couldn't help but look around at the familiar classroom in boredom. Up front was Mr.Cloud, giving a lesson on pegasus stuff that won't really help her in the long run. To her left was, aside from a bunch of fillys and colts, was a globe stuck to a wall, (long story), and a map of Equestria. Finally, to her right, was her friend and fellow Cutie Mark Crusader, Chestnut. Chestnut had a brown coat with a very dark mane, freckles on her face, and a pair of glasses. Was Chestnut nerdy? Sure. Was Chestnut the nicest little thing you'll ever meet? Yes, and that's why she and Babs were friends and Cutie Mark Crusaders.
Babs sat there, pretending to listen, until recess rolled around. When recess did finally come around, she and Chestnut walked out of the classroom together to crusade for their cutiemarks.
"Are you sure this'll work, Babs?"
"Sure I'm sure. Are you?"
"Not really..."
"Well, youze go sit over there, and I'll do it."
"Okay..."
Babs was currently building some sort of contraption out of various knickknacks she had... "borrowed" from around town. The purpose of this contraption, which would allude any normal pony, was to launch food into the air and at a few colts across the playground who were picking on some kid. It was not the most sturdy machine. Or the most safe. Or the most functional. Or, well... it probably wouldn't even do anything. Babs had set it up regardless of whether or not she actually knew anything about what she was building, and then she pulled the trigger.
Having been loaded with various assortments of soft fruit, the ammunition flew through the air and promptly splattered about 5 feet away from their intended target. They had drawn the boys attention, but they had failed to actually hit them.
"Hey, it's that little twerp Chestnut!"
"And Babs to!"
"Let's get 'em!"
Babs and Chestnut had decided that running cutiemarks would be very lovely right about now.
"Alright... I think we lost 'em"
Babs and Chestnut were panting behind the school. They had just managed to outrun the colts from before, and were not happy about having to run across the whole playground. As it turns out, Babs and Chestnut did not get their cutiemarks.
The back of the school was as empty and dismal as one would imagine the back of a Manehatten school to be. The pavement was cracked and worn, with small tufts of grass growing out of some of the larger cracks. There was dirt and trash, with small puddles of water and a pile of old desks just to add to the atmosphere. If ever there were a dreary back-lot, this would be it.
"Okay, so engineering cutiemarks is a no-go. Youze got any ideas, Chestnut?" asked Babs.
"Uh, your mom used to be a boxer, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Maybe you should try getting a fighting cutiemark."
Babs thought it over for a bit. It made sense, her mom being a natural born fighter. If Babs' time in Ponyville had taught her anything, it was that she could be intimidating if she wanted to be. With this in mind, Babs' decided that, if her mom could do it, she could to!
"Alright Chestnut, let's go find us those colts from earlier!"
"Wha-?"
Chestnut didn't finish as she was dragged along by Babs to search for the colts.
"Not so tough now, are ya?"
Babs was currently on the ground in the middle of the schoolyard. Her nose was bleeding and she had a tooth knocked out of her. All things considered, this was better then she could've hoped for. Aside from the fact that she had taken on the colts three to one, they were each just about as injured as she was, and that's gotta count for something! If she had taken one of them on one on one, she probably would've won. Pushing aside the fact that Babs found this completely exhilarating, she was actually enjoying herself. She was good at fighting, and she was having fun doing it.
"BABS! LOOK!"
"You got a cutiemark!"
"Babs! Babs! Babs...!"
*gasp*
"WATCH OU-"
That was the last thing Babs heard before three hoofs connected with her temple and proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of her.
She bled out on the spot
"CELESTIA DAMMIT BABS, IF YOUZE DON'T GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED I'LL KICK YOUR ASS INTO NEXT TUESDAY!"
And the cycle begins anew.
'...what?'
'WHAT?!'
Blood Orange was at her stall. She was selling oranges. Even though she chose to stay home. Even though she hadn't left the house. Now she was stuck at her stall. She couldn't move. She could just sit there and smile. She could only sell her oranges. Her head hurt, her eyes burned, and her mouth was dry.
Now, it didn't really make a difference how much of a freak out she was having, as her body was just doing what it had been doing what it had been doing for the past hours. She just sat there and sold her oranges. Sit and sell.
And she couldn't do anything about it.
Whatever the case, no matter who showed up, no matter what happened, her legs moved entirely of their own accord. It became increasingly clear that Blood Orange was NOT the one in control. Every move she attempted to make on her own only ended with her pain in that area being amplified, with her eyes and her heart aching. Literally. Her heart hurt. She couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening to her. She felt as though she was a prisoner in her own body.
And, quite literally, she was.
Blood Orange had planned to have a nice, relaxing day, if for no other reason then to ease her apparent worries. Now, though? Any worries she had were simply amplified. Now that she was like this, she was scared.
Champion of the local circuit.
Best fighter in town.
Scared.
Oh, what a shame, Marry Jane...
Chestnut was having much of the same situation.
Now, for Chestnut, this had been going on for about a month.
There's only so much she can take. No matter what she does, it always ends the same.
Babs is dead.
Chestnut has tried everything, rest assured. She's tried to move. She's tried to scream. Hell, in the brief time she was given free will after she woke up, she even tried to kill herself. She still had the scar. No matter what happened, if she didn't go along with what was going to happen, she would be forced to.
And it was torture.
If only she could tell Babs what was coming. If only she could warn her, give her a sign...
'...wait.'
'YES!'
Chestnut just thought of an amazing plan. If she still had the scar from her suicide attempt, that means that a scar would show up from a bad injury, regardless of whether or not she was forced to go along with the day. She could make a message.
SHE COULD SAVE BABS!
And by Krrashilka, she was going to.
Now, how to do it...
Blood Orange was not a happy mare.
Blood Orange had just had to yell her filly out of bed again, and quite frankly, having to do this every day was getting annoying. She could've sworn she had done this same thing seven days in a row now, and the date, whenever she asked anypony on the street, hadn't changed. If Blood Orange wasn't so focused on making a decent living, she might've been concerned.
Whatever the case may be, Blood Orange wasn't bothered by it much.
Well... okay, she was bothered by the fact that she'd black-out mid-day, everyday, for the past seven days, but whatever the case may be, she was only slightly concerned with it. If anything was wrong, surely a fighter like her would notice it. She had enough experience with fishy situations to know when something bad was ahoof, right? Nothing gets past the perceptive...
...right?
'Oh well,' thought Blood Orange, "If something fishy IS going on, I'd notice it. I'm a fighter, for Krrashilka's sake! I'm all instinct and perception. I'd notice.'
'I would notice.'
How ever things may seem, she just did her morning rituals. Made herself a cup of coffee, did a bit of shadow boxing for old time's sake, and even had a smoke after. Nothing out of the ordinary for her. Just because she feels a sinking despair every time her daughter goes to school doesn't mean anythings wrong. Just...
'Somethings wrong,' she thought.
Blood Orange isn't a particularly protective mother, she isn't overly concerned about Babs, and she isn't usually very sentimental. If she is feeling an alien dread... well, not alien, as she'd felt it before, but... 'No, that can't be right. Nothing's gonna happen.' she thought. Blood Orange is feeling something she hadn't since... he died, and she has to know why.
Doom is headed her daughter's way, but she can't figure out why.
"Maybe I should just stay home today. I'm just... stressed, I guess," Blood Orange thought to herself.
Chestnut was feeling horrible.
Every day.
Every. Single. Day.
She and Babs would go for the same marks.
And Babs would die.
And she would wake up.
And the world would crumble.
And she would cry.
And she would go to school.
And Babs would die.
And Babs would die.
And Babs would die.
...
...
In the darkness, a lone figure stood. Cloaked in shadow, and with a quill in hand, she would write upon parchment the words to which we live by. Her words were no longer her own, however, and now the parchment was scratched with lies.
Lies of catastrophic proportions.
And these lies will tear Blood Orange and Chestnut's minds and souls to shreds.
