The Dirge of a River

by SilverEyedWolf

Rating: teen
Tags: Horror, Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Rainbow Dash, Sad, Original Character
Length: 4905

All he wanted to do was return home... All he wanted to do was help...

River Serenade woke up locked in a room, with nothing but himself inside. The ceiling is mostly on the floor, the wallpaper long torn away, and the walls themselves seem to be bowing under a great weight.

The only thought occupying his mind is getting out, and then getting home.

Special thanks to the proofreader 0_0, who looked at this story in his free time. Another thank you to The Descendant, who wrote the fantastic story The Silent Shore and helped me, albeit unintentionally, with the atmosphere in this story here. And to Merlos, for I know he'll see this story even though he doesn't follow me. You're a great friend :twilightsmile:

Published 2015-10-29 18:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-29 18:10:02 UTC

Chapter 1

River Serenade sat up, looking straight up at the ceiling, gasping for air as he returned to consciousness. His thick legs curled in, one patting his broad chest as he tried to kickstart his heart and lungs.

Turning and throwing up, he finally cleared his throat and took in air. Panting, he pushed himself up, into a sitting position. Looking down at his filth, he gagged again and turned away from the thick, black substance.

What the fuck is that!? It’s not blood, is it?

Coughing, he rubbed at his raw throat, flinching at the touch of his own hoof.

Feels like something ripped out my throat. Where the hell am I?

Staggering, he pushed his hind legs underneath him and stood, all of his legs wavering as he fought for balance. Stopping the shaking, temporarily, he looked around the small room.

Yup. That’s a room…

The walls were splintery two by fours nailed together, most of the ceiling on the filthy floor. Dust caked every surface, disturbed in seemingly random places. River took note of the limping steps to where he had been laying, patches of disturbed dust standing yellow among the grey.

Looking at the door, he stepped to it and reached a hoof out, tapping the handle as he tried to grab it.

With a damp splintering noise, the handle shattered away from his hoof. With another shove, it tore through the door and fell onto the floor outside, a loud clang announcing his new freedom.

I hope the owner doesn’t mind me breaking his incredibly old stuff… If there is an owner.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. His neck felt strange, from being passed out on the floor he imagined.

Taking a few steps into the hall, he looked down both directions before turning down the way with less dust on the floor. The floor creaked ominously under his weight, so he leaned towards the left wall.

“Is anypony there?” he called down the hallway, his throat burning and voice rasping across his ears. He actually flinched away from his own voice, too loud for his ears.

He was glad to have folded his ears, for an instant after he quieted a pitching scream sounded from a room in front of him, three doors up on the left.

Springing forward, he smacked the rusted old doorknob down the hall, pushing the door open and splintering it on the wall. Looking around, he saw a small bundle of cloth in one corner, shaking uncontrollably.

“Hello?” he rasped as quietly as he could manage.

The bundle of rags screamed again, choking about halfway through and just sobbing instead.

Shaking his head, his ears plastered to the sides of it, he moved slowly towards the rags. A sharp, burning smell entered his nostrils.

“I’m not going to hurt you, please…”

The pile of cloth moaned, and a new, sharper smell entered his nose. He’d frightened the mare to the point of wetting herself.

Moving slowly, gently, he peeled away the cloth. She moaned again, but River continued until he saw a scrap of her golden mane.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured as he gently stroked the hair, trying to calm her.

She breathed deeply at his first touch, and as soon as he met her flesh again, she started screaming again, raggedly and without holding back.

River twitched, pushing harder onto her neck than he meant to.

A wet, popping sound filled the air, and she stopped screaming.

“Lady?” he asked, pulling his hoof away from her and returning to the cloth, tearing at it quicker now. “Lady, you okay?”

He finally pulled away the last scrap of cloth and rolled her over, as gently as he could.

She had been beautiful, at one time. Her blue-white coat complemented her mane, and her cornflower eyes were wonderfully deep. They were the kind of eyes that sparkled, and he could almost imagine them doing so. She was almost tiny, even though she appeared to be a fully grown mare. Her cutie mark was a sickle, cutting into a sheaf of wheat.

She stared sightlessly at the ceiling, blood flowing out of her muzzle as her neck bent at unnatural angles. The stream that leaked steadily from her mouth was pooling in her nostrils, thin tributaries forming and heading to her mane.

Shuddering, River moved away as he felt his stomach knot itself. Gagging, he turned and leaned against the wall, attempting to breathe. He smelled something metallic, salty. When he realized it was her blood, he blacked out.

When he came back, he was further down the hall, standing at a door. Looking around dully, he spotted a small track of brown droplets leading down the hallway to the left. He felt safe in assuming what it was.

Looking down, he noted nothing wrong with his own legs, or coat. Looking up, he looked over the door he found himself in front of.

It looked a lot more solid than the rest of the doors he’d seen, and had a thin handle instead of a knob. Lifting a hoof, he gave it an experimental push down, finding it locked.

Sighing, he looked down the blood-splattered direction of the hallway, then started away from it.

The further away he got from the door, the harder it felt to move. Before he even reached the corner, he stopped completely. Turning around, he made his way to the door and pushed the handle up, pulling at it gently. Creaking, it held firm.

He blew air past his lips, then rose up on his hind legs and brought both hooves down on the handle, snapping it. Picking it up, he used the handle to poke out the rest of the mechanism, pushing the door open as he did so.

As soon as he entered the door, somepony squealed and aimed something silver at him. Something stung his chest, and he looked down at some metal tube sticking out of the muscle. Reaching up, he pulled it out to see a needle pointing at him.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered, waiting for whatever was in their to take effect. The other pony seemed to be waiting for the same thing. They both fidgeted, then met each-other’s gaze.

“What was that supposed to do?” River asked the other pony.

Instead of answering them, the pony jumped towards the counter next to him, where another silver canister laid. River assumed it was another shot of some kind, and decided he didn’t want any more of anything stabbed into him.

River bolted into the room and, slowing down a bit, smacked his shoulder against the much smaller stallion’s side.

The other stallion flew across the room, smashing into the wall. With a single cry he crumpled to the ground, a heap of flesh and bone.

Once again the smell of steel and salt mixed in River’s nostrils, and his stomach cramped. He shook it off, ignoring the sensations as he went over to check on the stallion.

His mane was sandy brown, tousled carelessly around a stubby horn. His coat was yellower, almost the color of roughly ground mustard. He wore a long, white coat, and thin copper glasses.

His eyes were closed, but River could still see his chest wasn’t rising. It was oddly lumpy as well, ribs deconstructed and shattered. His torso was turned almost a hundred and eighty degrees in the middle.

Gagging, River stepped away and turned to the rest of the room.

The only other asset in the room was an island type counter, bolted to the middle of the room. Opening the cabinets revealed tubes and flasks full of dark chemicals, and… samples.

He quickly shut the doors and looked to the paperwork on the countertop.

It seemed to be written in either a foreign language, or a code. The symbols wouldn’t stay still on the page, and rearranged themselves whenever he tried to look directly at them.

Scattering the pages, he found nothing below them besides a strange symbol, one that looked mocking familiar. A single serpent twisted around a staff, with white lettering in a semicircle arcing under the bottom.

These letters he recognized, at least. The symbols still seemed to waver, as though under disturbed water, but he could read them.

Mors non est Aeternum? What?

He shook his head, and moved away from the table. Moving into the hallway, he pulled the door as closed as he could before turning down to the left, away from the blood spattered floor.

This time, he had no trouble rounding the corner and trotting down the hall.

He didn’t have the chance to turn for a while, and he wasn’t sure he would have made that choice anyhow.

The T junction he encountered gave no options.

Breathing deeply, he looked at the floors and walls and listened for several minutes, before shrugging and turning to the right.

After three steps, he stopped as he heard a noise behind him, like a breathy sigh.

“Hello?” he asked as he turned.

He saw nothing but a blank wall, a sharp corner standing in for the earlier junction.

He thought for a while, running options through his mind, and settled on turning around and continuing along his path.

I don’t have time to care. I hope.

He made decent time down the hallways, he felt. Remembering the changing T junction, he assumed that he would go wherever the building wanted him to go, and started taking random turns where he could. He moved without pause, only stopping to peer into doors he felt calling to him.

One of these doors contained nothing but an empty room. This was the best one.

Another contained a foal’s bed, tiny and pink-trimmed. It was perfect in every way, as though a piece of doll’s furniture shaped out of wood and pillows.

Something about it troubled him greatly. He assumed it was the still bulge under the covers.

The next one had a strange, small doll sitting in the middle of the room. He closed the room’s door as quickly as he could manage.

The worst one was a room containing another bed, this one much larger than the child’s bed. Two ‘ponies’ were… actively using it. One stood beside the bed, his fore-hooves up on it, while the other stallion laid beneath him.

The one on top turned its head to look at River, its bottom jaw and right eye missing almost completely. It tongue seemed to wag in time with its thrusts, reminiscent of a panting dog’s. It winked at him, and nodded its head to bed, invitingly.

“Ah, no thank you,” River said, unable to take his eyes away from the bottom’s obvious, waving pleasure. “I’ve got somewhere to be, actually. Can you point me to the exit?”

The bottom shrugged, pushing some thick, yellow mucus from the hole where its head should have been. Its lungs pulsated in the open air, even though its throat did not seem to be flexing in breath.

The top, however, put all of its weight on one leg, and used the other to point behind itself, in the direction River was going.

“Al’ays ‘ake eh ‘igh ‘urns,” it uttered thickly, large globs of drool leaking from its muzzle.

“Gotcha. Thanks.” River turned, and, unable to help himself, said over his shoulder, “Really gotta admire your rhythm. Keep it up.”

The bodies chuckled, and River quickly shut the door. Moving to the opposite side of the hall, he vomited more of the thick black stuff onto the wall, the detritus marbled with thick yellow streaks.

“Celestia help me if I open another damned door,” he muttered, before continuing down the hallway.

He stuck to his directions, always moving to the right if he could. This led him in a loop at one time, taking eight right turns before he landed in a hallway of windows. Looking behind him, he smirked a bit at the blank wall.

You’re getting a bit predictable.

The walls shuddered, and he had to leap away from a bit of ceiling that nearly fell on his haunches. The walls creaked again, and he could have sworn they were laughing at him.

Walking ahead, he peeked out the windows on either side of the hall.

The entire left side showed a fountain and overgrown grass, grayed stone steps marking pathways to doors in dark red brick buildings. Strange shadows flickered in the tall grass, and half a pony stood drinking from the black fountain water.

It turned to him when it felt his gaze, and it balanced on one leg to wave the other at him.

He started to wave back, when one of the shadows fled the grass and snatched the pony-half. It ran halfway across the grounds before leaping into the air, large wings snapping out and taking both creatures far away.

River barely even cared anymore, and turned to look out the right side.

The windows on the right appeared painted over, a dark, brownish black. Walking up to one, he tapped gently at the glass. The darkness rippled like water, before it parted and looked back at him. He gazed into its three pupils for a moment, before the eye shut itself.

Watching the windows on the right, he made his way out of the hall of windows.

Trotting now, he turned to the right of the junction, speeding past closed doors. Right, right, right…

He slid to a stop at what looked like it had been a four way junction, looking at the jumble of ceiling and debris that sat in the middle of the right hall. An idea occurred to him, and trotted ahead on the path, leaving the junction behind him.

Now, if I just…

He turned, and stood looking at the junction again. Smiling to himself, he walked forward to take what had been the left hall, and was now the right.

The hall was blocked by ceiling and debris. Looking behind him, the hall that had been to the right was clear of everything.

Looking up, he crawled over the wood and plaster, making his way up to the hole in the ceiling and onto the next floor.
Wanted to go down if anything. Oh well.

Looking around, he found himself in a room will blackened, fuzzy walls. The floor seemed normal enough, regular hardwood planks, but the walls were textured and seemed to writhe as he looked at them.

He walked closer to one, expecting it to move further away, but it stayed in exactly the same place as he moved to it. Lifting a hoof, he gently touched the wall.

It crunched beneath his limb, and when he moved it away from the wall his hoof was covered in green ichor and thin red blood. Looking at the wall, he saw white plaster before the blackness swarmed and recovered it.

It buzzed as it moved, and he realized that what he thought were the walls were multitudes of fat, black flies.

Wiping his hoof on the ground, he looked at all four walls.

“You guys wouldn’t let me out of here, would you?” he asked, half disappointed when nothing happened. Looking around, he spotted a thicker spot on the wall to his left. Moving over, he pushed the insects away, revealing a brass doorknob.

Always to the right…

Turning around, he walked straight over to the other wall. Not seeing any strange lumps, he pushed the flies aside… and looked into more of that fuzzy blackness.

Sighing, he shuddered as he pushed his hoof into the mass, following it slowly as he made his way through dark insects caked on top of each other.

Walking slowly, he closed his eyes as he pushed his face through the insects, flicking his ears wildly when they tried to crawl inside. He took three steps, completely immersing himself in the wriggling bodies and buzzing wings.

As soon as the last of his body was inside, the flies disappeared, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself in another, more sterile hallway.

Alright then…

He wandered again, losing himself among white double doors and hospital rooms long dusty and abandoned. The building seemed less troubling than it had before, and he made his way uninterrupted for about an hour.

Then reached another hallway of windows, great glass things that only showed on the right side.

These windows… were actually, surprisingly normal. A neat row of trees grew about forty yards in front of the building, parted only by a dingy stone pathway. A gentle slope led to what looked like a ten or fifteen foot drop.

Tapping at the glass, he wondered if it would really be that easy.

The floor sagged beneath him, and the window in front of him opened as the floor pitched up and threw him out.

Rolling, he caught the edge of the roof by a gutter. Looking down, he took in the drop, wondering if there was anything nasty waiting for him on the ground.

“She don’t wantcha no more.”

River turned back, looking on the roof he’d rolled over just before. A head looked over at him, entrails trailing behind it like a land-bound jellyfish.

“House is done with ya’, man. You bored it, and now it wants ya’ out.” The head shrugged with its neck, somehow bobbing in place. “I’d take off while ya’ can.”

River shrugged, placing his hind hooves on the wall below him. Coiling them, he pushed off as he let go, spinning through the air and planning to roll over the grass.

Instead, he smacked into a thick tree, crashing into several branches and landing on his back.

Sucking air, he arched as the pain wracked its way through his back, his hooves curling to his barrel as he writhed. Looking for the field that surrounded the house, he saw nothing except the large, dark trees.

Rolling over, he took to his feet and cautiously stretched his back, shaking like a dog when he got over the stinging.

Threading between the trees slowly, he wandered back towards where the house had been. When he’d walked for twenty minutes, he well and decided that the house had either disappeared or just dropped him off well away from its real location. Either way, he readied himself for a long walk, and kept moving.

The sun was rising when he finally exited the woods, making quite the picturesque scene in the valley below him.

A large village spread across the dip in the land, surrounded on all sides by trees, as well as having a single massive one growing at the edge of town. In the distance Canterlot loomed on its mountain, framed perfectly by the halo of the sun.

If that’s Canterlot, then the village must be Ponyville. Maybe I can hitch a ride back… to…

He thought for a moment, trying to remember the name of his hometown.

Thinking harder, all he could find was a mysterious, buzzing absence.

Weird. Maybe the new Princess can help with that, or the Elements themselves.

He took to the path in front of him, the hard-packed earth marking the clearest path he’d had all night.

So naturally, he stumbled on nothing as he walked the middle of it. He blinked, and finally noticed how heavy his eyes felt.

He yawned, looking around him and settling on a small hillock in the fields to his side.

Maybe a small nap…

He made his way over to the mound, and settled on the side opposite the road.

He was out before his head touched the dirt.

He awoke to the moon, just barely over the horizon. Looking the other way, he yawned as he looked at the setting sun, a small orange disk halfway under the trees.

Shaking loosely, he stood and flexed his legs. Licking his muzzle slowly, he looked back towards the golden village.

I hope they have some food to give away…

Ignoring the pinching of his stomach, he made his way back to the path.

“Oh, are you a friend of Mister Bear’s? You’re certainly big enough, Mr. Fuzzy, sir.”

River turned to the side, looking down at a small yellow Pegasus digging something out of her saddlebag. Smiling at her, he asked, “I’m not sure who you’re talking about, Ma’am.”

The Pegasus immediately left her satchel, scowling up at him for a brief second.

“There is no need to roar at me like that, mis… ter…”

She dropped all expression, before terror covered her countenance. Her legs wavered for a second, and she sat down, hard.

Looking cautiously down at her, he moved a couple steps away, before he sat down as well.

She made a small noise deep in her throat, a choking noise.

“Are you okay?” River asked, quietly.

She squeaked, hopping away and coughing, pounding on her chest.

“Sorry,” she wheezed. “I have a chest cold…”

Finally she stopped coughing, and pulled a white handkerchief out of her saddlebags. Pressing it to her mouth, she coughed once again, transferring whatever she had coughed up into the cloth.

The smell of salt and steel hit his nose again, and River’s stomach knotted.

Flinching, he turned his head and shook it, trying to get the scent of her blood out of his nose. He turned back, looking down at the sick Pegasus, who looked much less afraid and much more concerned now.

“Are you alright, Mr. Fuzzy? I’m sorry if my coughing was that gross…”

He shook his head, lowering his muzzle and whispering, “Not at all, it’s just the smell of the blood lingers in my nose…”

Her face scrunched up, and her head cocked to the right.

“I think you must have a really funny accent, Mr. Fuzzy sir, because I can only understand every other word. What’s in your nose?”

“Blood,” he enunciated, slowly and pointing at her handkerchief.

I wonder if her cold’s messing with her hearing… I don’t think I have an accent…

She looked at the cloth, bewildered. She actually held it out to him, a very odd look on her face. Sighing, he took it and opened it, pointing at the dark brown stripe.

“Oh, you’re a carnivore, then,” she said, taking the tissue and putting it away with a rosy flush to her cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you with that…”

“Yeah, sure lady, whatever,” he muttered. “Look, would you happen to know the Princess? I need to ask her… ask her about…”

He trailed off as she held out something silvery-blue to him, smiling gently. Sniffing, he felt the same knot in his stomach turn, but not as hard, and he finally recognized it for what it was.

He was hungry, so hungry.

He gently took the fish from her, and raised it to his muzzle, unthinking. Taking a large bite out of it, he felt the knot loosen as the flesh slid down his throat. Finishing it in three large, snapping bites, he sighed as the knot finally relaxed.

Staring at his hooves, he felt his vision shimmer. Digits formed and unformed in the water of his gaze, and he tore his eyes away to look up at the Pegasus.

“There now, Mr. Fuzzy. Feeling better?”

He was most certainly not.

“My name is River,” he ground out, glaring her down. “Not Mr. anything.”

She frowned up at him, and his stomach knotted again. He grunted and bent over, holding his stomach with a foreleg that didn’t bend quite right. She rushed over, standing on her hind legs and gently putting her hooves on his shoulder.

He tried to push her away, but his whole arm swung. He caught her on one of her folded wings, and she spun away from him.

Leaning forward, he looked down to where his hoof was supposed to be bracing him against the ground.

Six digits spread from a flat appendage, a thin wrist connecting the hand to his arm. Thick yellow talons stretched from each digit.

Panting, he shook his head and looked away, towards the Pegasus.

She lay still, on her side in the road. Blood seeped from six stripes along her ribs, and the wing on that side looked horribly mangled.

Moving slowly, he watched her chest for a moment, wondering is she was dead too.

She wasn’t, but her breathing was shallow and rapid, her eyes fluttering behind her closed eyelids.

Carefully, slowly, he picked her up, trying gently to fold her wings back to her sides. Walking on three legs, he realized that he didn’t even need to do that. Standing on his back legs, he felt his balance center in a way it never had before.

Stepping cautiously, he started taking long strides down the path to Ponyville.

Live. Please, please live.

He’d made it to a small bridge going over a creek before someone spotted him.

“Hey! What the buck are you?”

He was forced back as something small and feathery whapped against his muzzle, longer and sharper than he remembered it. Looking up, he growled at a blue Pegasus fluttering above him.

“Yeah, wanna go?” she huffed, holding a leg forward. “You wanna fight, you got one here, bust…”

He moved the arm cradling the injured Pegasus, a small rivulet of blood flowing down his arm. He growled again, knowing she wouldn’t understand his speech.

She gasped, staring at the pink and red mane he bared to her.

“She’s barely breathing, please…” he started.

She pulled back a leg and flew down, using gravity to plant her hoof between his ears and forcing him to his knees.

“You put her down!” she screamed, “You put Fluttershy down right now you bucking son of a whore!”

River had enough, and he flicked a paw out, backhanding her down the street. She fluttered a bit, gasping and choking, before lying still. He steadied his own breath, staggering to his feet after a moment. His head pounding, he walked over to the still pony, watching her unmoving chest before moving on down the street.

He entered the town proper, instantly noticing the complete lack of anypony on the street. It was still light enough outside that the street lamps were unlit, there should be stragglers at least.

Then he heard a bell chiming, far away.

Alarm for me, most likely. Rainbow head must have been their first line.

He lengthened his stride, walking towards a taller white building in the distance, a red cross displaying its usage.

He got to the middle of town before another pony stopped him.

He thought she was a purple Pegasus, the way she dropped from the sky. When she raised her head, he saw the horn behind her crown.

“Move, Princess,” he chuffed, cradling the one called Fluttershy to his chest as he started towards her.

She flinched back, but her horn glowed and froze him in place.

“What did you do to Rainbow Dash?” she asked, her voice husky.

River growled at her, pushing against the magic. She was pushed back a step, but lowered her head and encased him completely.

“What did you do to my friend!?” she screamed, the first tears running down her muzzle.

She grasped his limbs roughly in her magic, yanking him spread-eagled. Fluttershy fell from his chest, thumping her shoulder against the hard cobblestone. Her chest no longer moved.

The Princess gasped, a sob choking up from her throat. The pressure on his arms increased, and River felt both of them pop out of their sockets.

He howled into the sky, but she ignored him as she ran to the yellow Pegasus. She whispered to her, gently nudging her unharmed shoulder. She took a deep shuddering breath, then looked up at River Serenade.

“No more,” she whispered, before she screamed, “No more!”

The pressure increased on his arms, and he felt one tear away from his body, followed by the other. She spun both of his limbs in her magic, raising from the ground as her eyes turned purest white. Thick trickles of tears ran down her hate-filled face as she levitated to be level with him.

Slowly, she angled one of his claws against his abdomen, pointing straight up. Slowly, slowly, she pressed his talons into him, sliding his entire arm first into, then through his body cavity, up into his lungs.

He gargled thickly, still growling at the Alicorn Princess.

“For Fluttershy,” she whispered, her eyes turning black. Grabbing his other arm from her magic, she reared back and plunged it into his heart, through his shoulder blade on the other side.

“For Rainbow,” she growled, before his fur caught flame, dark magic pouring from her horn into the black fire.

When River was dust, she lowered herself back to the street and wobbled over to Fluttershy’s body. Lightly tracing her friend’s shoulder, Twilight Sparkle smiled gently, her dark eyes still leaking black tears.

“I love you, Fluttershy,” she whispered, pulling one of River’s talons over to her chest. It was black, and cracked from the heat, but still sharp enough to draw blood when she touched it to her heart. “I love you, Rainbow Dash. See you soon.”

She pressed the claw in.

Author's Note

Oh gods. I've never written a horror story before, please let me know what you thought of it.