Casualties

by Starscribe

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 13291

A terrorist attack on a suburban high school has unexpected consequences. Instead of hurting anyone, every person inside is changed into a pony.

The perfect bioweapon: takes effect within minutes of exposure, has a 100% success rate, and those exposed spread it wherever they go. Armed with this powerful new weapon, an evil organization attempts to bring about a reign of terror unlike any seen in the world before. Unfortunately, the perfect weapon doesn't work quite as intended. Instead of killing its victims, it changes them into ponies.

Tiny, adorable ponies.

The world is doomed.

This story was written for the Transformations group story contest. It was originally published under the name "Consequences," though this story has been heavily revised since then.

Thanks to my usual crew Two Bit and Sparktail for the editing, and for everyone who submitted feedback on the original contest entry. As usual, my coverart is by the fantastic Zutcha, so go ahead and check him out of you haven't already! The story's changed a great deal since then, hopefully for the better.

Published 2016-01-31 21:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-31 21:00:03 UTC

Chapter 1: Zero Hour

Lauren had seen many strange things in the school’s offices before; if anything the peculiar was what kept her days interesting. Membership in the Associated Student Body had many perks, but one she treasured above all others was being able to spend a period of every day as a “student assistant” in the office. If there was going to be any juicy gossip from second period, Lauren would be the one to get it.

When she saw a policeman standing outside the assistant principal's office, she couldn’t help but grin. She couldn’t approach directly: she would get nothing for sure. Rather, it was imperative she followed procedure. Lauren smoothed her hair, pulled her skirt down a little so it would look like it met the dress code better than it did, and hurried off to the staff lounge to make coffee.

She couldn’t just make a cup for the officer: that would be too obvious. She made half a dozen cups, each exactly the way their intended recipient liked them. Mr. Gibson the principal liked his extra creamy and with two sugars. His secretary Mrs. Malone took hers black, and so on. She didn't know how the deputy standing outside the door liked his coffee, so she made the last foam cup as bland and inoffensive as she possibly could. Her presence in the lounge didn’t attract so much as a second glance, and in fact she made cheerful conversation with several teachers who didn’t have any classes this period.

There was no guarantee the officer would still be there when she returned, but it seemed today was her lucky day. If one of them had been called onto campus, it was going to be quite the story. When she got back, she found the deputy exactly where she had left him, standing with his back to the windowless door. She resisted the temptation to hurry over, and instead made a loud show of delivering coffee to everyone, with as much bubbly abandon as she could muster. As usual, none of them suspected a thing. More often than not there was nothing for a “student assistant” to do but smile at everybody and only ever answer yes.

When there were only two glasses left (still steaming, to her pride), she didn’t sulk past the hallway but marched straight up, like nobody in the world belonged more than she did. She didn’t walk the same way she might for a boy her own age, who might’ve been convinced by hips alone. That sort of thing didn’t work on police officers. She stopped about a pace away from the door, and made herself as polite and respectful as she could. “Morning, Officer Cohen!” She hadn’t known his name, but his nametag knew.

The man was easily a full head higher than she was, with dark hair and a dark mustache. He was old enough to be her dad. Just walking had been the right move. “Good morning, young lady. Can I help you?” She hadn’t seen him on campus before, but that didn’t mean much. Police almost never had to visit while school was in session, and Lauren wasn’t the sort of girl to get in trouble. Her little brother, on the other hand…

“You sure can, Officer Cohen!” She thrust the coffee-tray in her arms out towards him, making the prop more obvious. “I’ve got Mrs. Fowler’s morning coffee, may I give it to her?”

The officer’s frown deepened. “Mrs. Fowler isn’t in right now, so I’m afraid not.” Even his mustache looked disapproving, and Lauren had no doubt in her mind that the policeman was onto her.

Yet why would there be a policeman outside the assistant principal's office? Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a single time they hadn’t come in pairs. So this man’s partner was probably inside, with… someone. Of all the doors in the office, the assistant principal's alone did not have a window. “Oh.” She twisted the tray around, so the other glass was facing him, then stepped forward to offer it. His hand twitched briefly towards his side, though it didn’t stay. “I made an extra for you, officer. I’ll have to go back to the lounge to make another glass for your partner, but you’re welcome to this one.”

His face softened. “Oh, sure.” He took the cup, sipping thoughtfully. “Thank you very much, young lady.” His scowl slipped a little as he drank. She didn’t walk away, instead resting against the wall near the door, as though waiting for him to finish his glass.

He never did.

The door exploded outward suddenly, flying right off its hinges and through the air. Officer Cohen was spared only by virtue of standing to one side to drink his coffee.

Something came through the open doorway, pounding past Lauren and down the hall. It was so close she felt the soft touch of fur on one hand as it blasted past.

The animal barely stood to her knees, and she could only tell its orangish outline was male as it retreated. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve sworn the little creature was a tiny horse, smaller than any she had ever heard of and with an orange coat so bright it had probably been spray-painted.

“The hell?” Cohen dropped the coffee, taking off after the creature with a few pounding strides. The door teetered, then fell back to the ground, bowed outward as though it had been struck by a speeding automobile.

Lauren hadn’t expected that to be how she got to see what was going on inside. Yet with the door gone, who could blame her if she…

There were two people, exactly as she might’ve expected. Mrs. Fowler sat with her head resting on the desk in front of her, hands on the side of her head as though suffering from a terrible headache.

And the other policeman? The man was on the ground, shaking and convulsing as though he had just been shot. Since when did the county police let their deputies dye their hair bright red like that? “Excuse me,” she said into the opening. “Are you two alright? Should I get help?”

Only a faint moan from the policeman answered. She stepped through the doorway, fumbling in her pocket for her phone. Whatever else she did, she figured this would probably be a good time to call the police.

Only her hand didn’t obey. She pulled it out of her pocket with some difficulty, feeling pins and needles spread slowly from her wrist up to her elbow. The skin turned red and feverish, heat boiling just below her perception.

Lauren stumbled, holding her hand away from the rest of her body as far as she could. The fever-hot burning at her fingertips had already spread to the rest of the hand, and it seemed to be getting worse. She ignored the shouting, and what sounded like the crack of a gun. She ran all the way to the staff bathroom, startling the secretary as she passed but not even slowing down to reply.

Students weren’t supposed to use these bathrooms, but she hardly thought about that. There was a first-aid kit on the wall here, she remembered. She found it exactly where she expected, practically tearing it off the wall with her good hand, dumping its contents all over the counter. She was evidently alone, which gave her a little comfort. Her skin was turning bright red, and her fingers were swelling up. An allergic reaction?

Lauren briefly contemplated the trick of many an animal stuck in a trap, somehow removing the offending limb. It didn’t actually hurt that much, but the effect was spreading so fast… No, she didn’t have the stomach for that. Not to mention this first-aid kit lacked a bonesaw or anything she could’ve used. It did have a bottle of iodine. Careful not to touch the offending limb, she tore off the lid and proceeded to dump it all over her hand.

Brownish fluid washed over it without the slightest impact, and the stinging had spread halfway to her elbow. The fingers were even worse than before, so stiff and filled with fluid she couldn’t move them. “Dammit!” she swore, but swearing didn’t help either.

The fire alarm started blaring, a white strobe flashing in the corner of the room. She ignored it, fumbling through the supplies she had upended for anything else she could use. She found some Advil and downed a few with some sink-water, but of course they made no difference. A few “wound-sterilizing wipes” were similarly ineffectual. Lauren screamed, but of course screaming did her little good.

She needed to stay calm. If the medical supplies she had on-hand didn’t do her any good, she should… go to the hospital? Could she even make it in time? Even as she watched, her right hand began to twitch involuntarily. She felt deep crunching noises from within, as though her very bones were buckling under the pressure. Yet such a thing should hurt, shouldn’t it? Why wasn’t she in agony?

It was getting harder to breathe. Her chest and throat were feeling warm and swollen now too, just like her arm. The poison was airborne.

Had the tiny horse really been the source of the infection? If so, was simply running through the building enough to expose the students? With the heat of the day, most of the hallway doors were open. She dropped to her knees, breathing becoming more labored. The strange tingling was spreading through her chest far faster than her arm: apparently its effects were felt far more quickly that way.

Lauren became conscious of a painful reality then: she might be about to die. Panic raced through her, made her shake and nearly fall over, but she forced herself to continue what she was doing. She took her cell phone in the one hand she could still use, and composed a text. She found her brother’s number. He was in Gym right now. “poison gas, get outside now.”

Her brother wasn’t particularly obedient, or else he probably wouldn’t have had his phone on his person during PE anyway. But given what she knew about him, she knew there might be a chance. It was all she could do for her little brother.

She tried to send another message home to Mom, but wasn’t able to finish typing. Her phone clattered to the ground, and she let herself collapse. Whatever was happening to her would take its course, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. In that moment, she felt all her fear drain away. She had done all she could: if she was about to die, then she would die. If not, then she wouldn’t. She was too weak to struggle any more.

She didn’t die. After a few moments, her breathing became easy again, and she was able to watch as the changes began to spread. Her hand was the most pronounced, though it no longer resembled a hand in any meaningful sense. The whole thing looked horrifically like it had merged completely together. This was nothing close to the strangest part about it, though.

Most horrific, it appeared her hand was being covered in hair. Was it a trick of the light, or was she actually growing blue hair? With the strange warmth filling the entirety of her chest, there was no point in trying to avoid contact with her arm anymore. She touched it with the back of her other hand and found it far softer than any hair she had touched before.

Except for the horse that had kicked down the door and nearly knocked her over. Brushing past him had felt almost exactly like this against her right hand, the one that was no longer a hand. He had been bright orange, another color horses weren’t ever supposed to be. Lauren put together the impossible implication of those two facts even as she recognized the shape of her right hand. Her hand was turning into a hoof, and she was becoming a horse.

Could she be dreaming? Was that why she wasn’t in pain? She tried to reach up, find something she could use to hurt herself, but couldn’t get her body to move. Breathing alone seemed to be in her easy control. Sitting up only made her legs flop about. Unfortunately, she couldn’t flop hard enough to inflict pain on herself.

She moaned faintly as the strange shifting sensation filled her whole body. Her back arched involuntarily, then stayed unnaturally contorted. Blue fur spread up her arm, which was very clearly no longer an arm. She couldn’t even look up to see what was happening to the rest of her, with only her arms clearly in front of her eyes.

She didn’t need to look towards her skirt to know something similar was taking place down there. Her legs were shortening, bending so far down she thought they were bound to dislocate. Only they didn’t. The cold sensation of tile on skin vanished as more of the fur covered the exposed flesh. Something stung on her back, as pressure began to build on either side. It was like a blister welling up spontaneously, and for once it started to hurt.

She found the strength to scream as skin stretched and then tore. The pain only lasted a few seconds, accompanied with the wet feeling of blood soaking into her shirt and dribbling to the ground. Yet for all its sharpness, the agony lasted only moments. The throbbing stopped, and instead something strange seemed to be growing out from her body. She could feel her shirt sliding up and out of the way of the strange growths, which let her feel more and more of the floor on either side. A second set of arms, maybe? God, if she could only turn around to look.

She couldn’t, but she was distracted by another brief flash of pain, just above her butt. It didn’t last nearly as long as the first, yet it had the same effect, pushing away skirt and underclothes and spilling out over the floor. She could clearly feel the hair as it grew there, much longer than anywhere else on her body. A tail.

Everything moved, from the organs in her chest to the very shape of her skull. The world stretched out, her arm losing a little of its definition. Even so, she could see further up and around, closer to the ceiling. She could also see that the hair or fur was growing on her face, because her nose had grown into a muzzle and the fuzz covered it all over. One ear twitched, and it was very plainly not where it ought to be. Worse by far than the strange way the room seemed to look different was the smell, though.

Humans didn’t smell well, and Lauren had been one of the worst. Now though, she became frightfully aware of the fact she had her face on the floor of a bathroom. As clean as it was, she could smell all kinds of things that had happened, far more pungent than she had ever smelled them before. It made her so sick she had to make an effort to only breathe through her mouth, as this bizarre transformation finished.

As quickly as it had come, the feverish warmth began to subside. Numbness faded from her right arm, and she found she could move it freely again. It didn’t do exactly what she expected, but at least it twitched. Soon she found the fever fading from the whole of her body, leaving her only slightly chilly. It was done.

Just because the transformation was over didn’t mean Lauren particularly wanted to move, though. She had just seen and felt awful things, things nobody (she knew of) had ever gone through. Well, maybe one person. That first horse, the one that knocked over the door. Was he patient zero, spreading some invisible contagion wherever he ran? If so, how much of the school would be affected? Would her brother suffer, even as she had?

What about her friends? The other students and teachers?

This realization made her painfully aware of another detail: if the first victim had been contagious, she likely was as well. Not only that, but she had been changed into some kind of monster!

She cried a little, rocking back and forth on the floor. A perfectly dignified reaction, under the circumstances. With her hearing so much more sensitive and the strange sensations of the transformation gone, she was conscious of noise from outside. Screaming, running, commotion. Pounding footsteps. Something shattered on the ground. A voice barked over the PA, but she couldn’t make out the words.

Lauren wasn’t sure how long she laid there crying and feeling sorry for herself. Did the shock of the transformation steal her away from consciousness, however briefly? Eventually, either the disgusting circumstances or her concern for her classmates motivated her to sit up. She found the movement came naturally, though she couldn’t have said how she knew how to do it. She rolled, getting all four legs under her, and lifted her neck. The room seemed to loom above her, even further than it ought to in a sitting position. The counter was well out of reach, her eyes perhaps at a level with the rim of a toilet. Her clothes billowed about her, no longer tight and form-fitting. Instead her tank top hung from her torso like a tent, while her skirt and underclothes had already slipped off.

This was not as disquieting as it ought to be, though she couldn’t have said why. Maybe she was just too focused on wanting to get a good look at herself: it wasn’t as though there was anyone to see her in here. Just as with rolling into a sitting position, standing came naturally. It didn’t feel like pretending to have four legs had felt as a child, nor like anything she could easily describe. Lauren wanted to stand, and so she stood.

Her legs still shook as she did so, though that might’ve been the shock. Even having seen one of these creatures before, Lauren was unprepared for just how small she was. She still couldn’t reach the counter, and might’ve struggled even to climb up onto a toilet. Even so, there was a full-body mirror on the door, and so she stumbled over to it to get a good look at herself.

There was no mistaking it: she was a member of the same species that little horse had been, the one that had kicked down the door. Bright yellow eyes, soft blue coat, and a mane like a blue jay. The colors were so harsh on her eyes she couldn’t look at them for long without laughing. Just now, that laughter came bitterly. Nothing outside of a tropical jungle should be this colorful!

Nor could there be any doubt in what she saw. She saw an ear twitch even as she felt it. Flicked her tail, and saw the reflection do the same. Opened her mouth to show her flat teeth, and so did the little pegasus in the mirror. That she was a pegasus she didn’t even question: she had wings, she was a horse, so it must be. Yet she couldn’t imagine a Greek hero trying to ride up to Olympus on her back. Maybe a housecat could try it, but not a person.

Her wings responded to her will just like any other part of her body, spreading and turning over as though she had always had them. Something about this fact disturbed her, though Lauren couldn’t have said what it was. It was the same horror she felt in being able to walk so easily, something about what that implied…

She dismissed it for now. Lauren was done feeling sorry for herself, it was time to get more information. She made her way over to where she had dropped her cell phone, and tried to pick it up. She couldn’t, not easily. Nor could she actually do anything to the touch screen: small as she was, tiny screens were not made for hooves.

Fortunately, she didn’t need to. “Okay Google!” she shouted, suddenly thankful her nerd of a little brother had set this up for her. Her voice sounded at least an octave higher than it had been, more musical somehow. The least of her worries. The phone made that characteristic tone and the screen came on. “Call Mom!” The icon started to spin, but it didn’t reply with the usual answering tone of a successfully recognized command. Around and around it spun with no result.

She nearly crushed the stupid thing with her hoof before it did respond. “We’re sorry, we’re having trouble reaching Google’s servers. Please check your network connection and try again.” She hadn’t even noticed the “No Service” text at the top of the screen until that moment.

Of course, that didn’t make any sense. You could get service anywhere on campus, even under the bleachers down by the south field (she’d tried it)! Perfect time for the cell company to have a service disruption. Unless it wasn’t accidental…

No, no conspiracy theories. She was already done feeling sad for herself. That meant she needed to be rational, to consider what the next best option was. Obviously she couldn’t stay hidden in this bathroom. Sooner or later somebody would wander in, and anyway plenty of other people had been near to the little horse. It was possible more than just the police officer had tried to grab him.

She had to go out and see. Without her phone, it was the only way. Surely the school’s adults would do something about this, they had to! Help was probably already on the way.

She had no intention of going outside naked, but what could she do? Lauren had the clothes she had been wearing at the time, her cell phone, and that was it. Her backpack had gym clothes, but that was hanging on one of the hooks in the staff lounge. So what could she make of clothes with a skirt, a tank-top, and some underclothes?

Not much as it turned out, particularly when she had no hands to work with. Even tightened up all the way, the skirt was way too small for her to wear. Perhaps clothing made of elastic for a dog would’ve fit her, but nothing tailored for a 5’ 7” teenager. Besides, her tail would just keep the thing hiked up all the way, making the whole thing pointless.

In the end, it was the best Lauren could do to tie the straps of her tank-top and wear it backwards like pants. Her tail could hang out where the neck ought to be, and make her feel a little less like she was naked. It still didn’t bother her, but she was pretty sure it would as soon as she left this room and was around other people. Or other little horses. Whatever she was.

This done, she pushed the rest of her clothes into a corner under the sink, shoving her phone in along with the rest of it. As much as it hurt to part from the device, she couldn’t use it right now and had no way of carrying it if she didn’t use her mouth. It was time to go out into the school and see what had happened to her friends.

Chapter 2: Survivors

Lauren pushed the door open with no little effort. The tiny stallion might’ve been able to buck clean through a door, but for her the already-heavy door swung only with great effort. She braced her shoulder against it and shoved, inching forward. Eventually it swung out far enough for her to make her cautious way back into the office hallway.

She didn’t know how long had passed, but the sun was far brighter through the window, meaning it was probably sometime in the afternoon. The light from the windows was all she saw: the electricity had evidently gone out. The window itself was no comfort to her, at least twice her height up the wall. Was this what it felt like to be three years old?

It looked like a tornado had passed through the office. Shelves had been toppled, computers smashed to the floor, tables overturned. She saw burn marks on the walls in more than one place, and walked carefully around frequent patches of debris. What the hell had happened here? She had to step lightly in order to avoid the broken glass near a window that hadn’t survived. Were hooves strong enough to walk over glass without getting hurt? She couldn’t make it into the principal’s office, a desk had been toppled there and her eyes barely even rose above it. She didn’t feel like learning right then if she could climb as a horse.

Besides, there was clearly nobody inside. She turned back, walking along the hall towards the assistant principal’s office. “Hello?!” she shouted, voice echoing strangely in the empty space. She waited nearly a full minute, repeating her shout several times, but was not answered. She continued walking, stepping around an old-style CRT monitor that rose almost to her shoulders. No, this wasn’t what a three-year-old felt walking around a house. This was what her dog must feel.

She walked carefully to the assistant principal’s destroyed office door, glancing fearfully inside. No assistant principal, no police officers. There were a few bundles of clothes, along with a backpack pushed up against the wall. Curious, Lauren inched into the room. The door itself creaked under the pressure of her hooves, but no part of the wood crumbled away. From the way it’d buckled under the tiny stallion’s kick, she had guessed it might be made of balsa. Clearly that was not the case.

Lauren glanced to either side, as though fearful she might be attacked at a moment’s notice. She hadn’t forgotten what she looked like, even if her body seemed not to realize that she shouldn’t have been able to control it. Maybe she was small enough that someone walking around without looking closely wouldn’t even see her on the ground. Anyone who did see her would think she was an animal loose in the school, and would probably try to grab her. Would they be transformed by their contact with her just as the stallion’s touch had changed her?

She pawed at one of the piles of clothes: an officer’s uniform. The glittering badge said “Davis”, and there was bright red fur caught at some of the buttons. The owner, however, was nowhere to be seen. A similar bundle, a yellowish suit and white shirt, clearly belonged to the assistant principal, but there was no sign of her either. She turned to leave, and very nearly did leave, before something caught her eye. The backpack resting against the wall was half open, and wouldn’t have attracted her attention at all, except that she saw something glittering from inside it.

Lauren approached the backpack like a cautious cat. Indeed, she probably could’ve fit inside if she wanted, though she doubted she would be much happier inside than a cat would’ve. Lauren lowered her head to the backpack, took the bottom in her mouth and upended it with a grunt of effort. Several hollow metal canisters spilled out, tumbling all over the ground around her.

Each looked a little like a Thermos, except that each had a sturdy seal and still faintly steamed from within. She lowered her head to sniff at one, pulling it up just as quickly with an expression of disgust. Whatever was in there was as unfamiliar as it was unnatural, like something from a laboratory. Being the size of a dog didn’t give her a dog’s ability to identify smells. Regardless, she needed no supernatural senses to tell the containers and their “biohazard” logos didn’t belong here. She forced herself to remember the single glance she’d had inside this room this morning, and found the backpack did look familiar. Were these containers the reason the kid had been brought in?

Lauren left in disappointment, wandering back out into the hall. Somewhere in this now gigantic school there were bound to be other survivors. Heck, even bodies would’ve been something. Had the whole place been evacuated and she alone left behind?

She made her way to the main office door. The window, easily within eye level before, seemed to tower miles above her now, and no amount of jumping could approach it. Her new wings spread of their own accord as she jumped, and she almost could’ve sworn they caught the air a little, slowing her fall. They didn’t help her reach the windows, though. Both doors were shut.

Lauren had to strain to reach the push-bar, and could only do it by propping her forelegs up on the door, scrambling as close as she could with her hind legs, then hitting it with her face. The lock clicked, but even so the door barely even swung with all her weight on it. She walked forward with hind-legs, putting as much pressure on the door as she could. No sooner was she out than the door swung shut behind her. She couldn’t even imagine how she would open the door from this end.

The hallway was dark and empty of living things. It wasn’t too dark to see, but the gloom seemed unnatural to her even with later afternoon sunshine coming in through the windows. If she had thought the office was messy, the hallway was much worse. Fallen papers and ownerless backpacks were scattered along the floor. Lockers vomited textbooks and spare clothes where they stood, meaning Lauren had to walk slowly; she might’ve been able to stride over such small things as a human, but at her size a pile of textbooks or a backpack was more climbing than she was comfortable with.

A few things were conspicuously missing in the hallway, and for that she was grateful. There were no mysterious red-brown stains of violence, no pools of blood or worse things. There were no corpses, no spent bullets, or weapons of any kind. If a riot had happened here, it did not appear to have hurt anyone. Did that mean the school had been evacuated before any more students suffered her fate?

She continued walking down the school’s main hall for at least ten minutes, resisting the instinct to find a dark corner and cry. Only her intense curiosity kept her moving. Even as her fear of being inadvertently discovered by an unchanged person faded, her fear of being discovered by who or whatever had done this grew. More than once she stopped at a sudden sound, spreading her wings in a subconscious effort to look larger. She had made it most of the way through the school before she heard voices.

She wanted to gallop down the hallway towards them, but her common sense gave her pause. She was a mostly-naked horse right now, in a building way too big for her. If anybody saw her, it might end in a chase that got them hurt. Given how very inhuman she looked, her logical course of action was to act as human as possible. She could still talk, she could still reason. Maybe if she kept reminding herself of that, it would stay true.

Lauren forced herself to move slowly in the direction of the voices. The hallway here was more clear than anywhere else in the school, as though it had been intentionally cleared. As she neared the gym, the murmur of sound gradually grew into a dull roar, like the hundreds of separate conversations that indicated an assembly about to start. None was scheduled for today, but… changing into a horse hadn’t been scheduled either. Lauren reached the gym and turned to peek inside, staring as little past the opening as she could. She gasped, stumbling back and landing on her rump in plain view of the open hallway.

The transformation had been complete. Gathered around the massive gym were orderly rows of tiny, multicolored creatures. Their hues varied as widely as a paint shop, though each individual’s shades seemed internally coordinated somehow. Some had wings, some had strange bony growths on their foreheads, and some had neither. Most had tried to wear something, even if it was just an extremely droopy pair of boxers or a short skirt now long enough to be an evening gown.

Though hard to be sure, it didn’t look like there were many of the alien creatures older than she was. She searched for gray-haired, drooping versions, perhaps the transformed Mr. Stoes in the math department or that cranky nag of an AP Chemistry teacher. At least with her eyes, she could see no sign of any elderly.

A pony wearing only an oversized policeman’s hat and a belt approached from beside the door. He was taller by a few inches, though it was hard to be sure it was a he without looking in places she very much wanted to avoid. “Miss, I don’t know how you missed the evacuation…” His voice was high, sounding no older than he looked. Did these aliens even have other ages? “You’re all ordered by class, as you can see. You should find yours.”

Lauren realized then what was bothering her so much. “Last semester there was a fire in one of the biology classrooms,” she replied. “There was almost a riot trying to get everyone to assemble outside. Half the school just left for the day.” She gestured in at everyone. “How are you getting everyone to act so calm under… under the…” She whimpered, and very nearly cried.

Except that the stranger had touched a reassuring hoof to her shoulder. “Shh, it’s alright.” He didn’t continue, waiting for her to collect herself. “Were you a teacher, ma’am? We’re still missing a few.” Even without looking, Lauren no longer doubted whether this individual was male. His smell, the way he touched her, left no doubt in her mind even though she couldn’t have explained why.

A little “human” contact was all it took to make her feel better. At least enough to talk without fear of breaking down into tears again. “No, just student government. I was in the office…”

“Right,” he interrupted. “The rest of the office staff are one room over.” He gestured across the hall, at the open door to a nearby classroom. “Through there. If you were there this morning, they’ll want you. You may’ve seen something that will… help us understand. I’m sure they can answer your–”

She walked past him. He might be wearing a gun on his belt, but that belt was strapped across a body so small its tightened end dragged on the floor. A body without hands to use a gun, or any of the other tools that hung there. A hat that fell slantwise and sometimes covered half his face, forcing him to tilt his head back and readjust it each time.

“My brother’s in here somewhere,” she said, her voice breaking a little as she did so. “I’m going to make sure he’s okay first. If that’s okay.”

She didn’t turn around, but she heard the stallion’s voice behind her. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Just don’t take too long; they’re still looking for the stragglers. You’re one of the last. I’m sure your brother is safe.”

He said that word with a strange, uncomfortable emphasis, and she was too nervous to ask what that might mean. Not when she was already in the room with him. No other thought mattered. Not learning what had really caused this, or why everyone was so calm and well-behaved. Lauren only wanted her family to be safe. Everything else could wait.

During any sort of emergency, each class had a given place they were supposed to be in the gym. She had been at every drill this year, and never before had the space actually felt roomy. With each class in its place, most of the gym floor remained empty. Unlike the rest of the school, there was no litter or damage anywhere, and she was free to walk. A few of the aliens that had been students watched her, but most were far too occupied to notice.

She remembered freshmen were against the bleachers, so that was where she headed. She passed through numerous seated creatures, huddled around their backpacks chatting or playing cards as though nothing world shattering had happened that day. Where was the panic, the fear, the teenage angst? Fire drills had more chaos!

Each class had a paper sign with the grade and the name of the teacher, so it wasn’t hard to find the right one. Just walk along the line until she found the sign that said “Mrs. Grouse.”

At the back of the room, she found a yellow mare with a green mane and tail, like a reverse sunflower. Among the freshman there did appear to be an age difference she hadn’t noticed among the older students: the people here were all shorter than she was. All except for the one reading a book and sitting in front of the sign.

“Are you Mrs. Grouse?”

“That’s me!” She sat up. “Sorry that I don’t recognize you… should I?”

“Probably not. I’d like to see my brother. Preston Harris?”

She nodded. “Oh, of course. Preston?”

One of the little horses rose at the name, stepping out of line and walking over to her. Pony, that was the right word. One glance was all it took to tell that related individuals did have a family resemblance. Preston's blue coat was lighter than hers, the mane darker and streaked with a bright splash of orange. The eyes were almost exactly the same shade as Lauren’s. The little horse also had wings, and they shivered nervously with each step. Preston stopped about a foot away, grinning up at her. “Lauren?” The voice was far higher than Preston’s ought to be. Distinctly feminine, in fact.

Preston was one of the relative minority, who had made no serious attempt to adapt their clothes. Preston appeared only to have kept some really nerdy glasses, which had been bent and twisted to remain in place on a pony face. Even without wanting to look, Lauren found her “brother” missing what the transformed policeman hadn’t. “Preston.” Lauren had no idea how, but she already knew how to hug, taking the other horse close to her and embracing her with her neck. She breathed in Preston’s scent, finding it strikingly similar to her own. Way softer than it ought to be. “Are you–” Her ears flattened. “I mean, did you…”

“I think so,” Preston replied, with a nervous flick of her tail. “Most of us did. There’s only one boy in my whole class. Were you not here when they made the announcements?”

Lauren broke away from her sister, trying to look repentant. “I think I fell asleep earlier, and I only just got here. I’m sorry it took me this long to check on you!” Preston was several inches shorter than she was, and distinctly less mature to boot. Her wings were much smaller too, and she held them at a fairly irregular slant. “Have you talked to Mom or Dad?”

“If you missed the announcements, well… they can’t come.” Preston whined, then embraced her again. All the usual self-consciousness and shame Lauren might’ve expected from a teenager in front of his peers just wasn’t there.

Lauren didn’t care who saw. She comforted her “sister” until the smaller pony was done with her. She took a few steps away from the conversing class, then sat down on her haunches beside her sister. Her body knew what to do, so long as she didn’t think about it too closely. “Because this is contagious?” She didn’t have to have heard the “announcements” to look around and guess that.

“Yeah. They’ve got police outside the grounds with gas masks. Paul says he– says she saw them. Apparently CDC and the National Guard are both on the way. And us–” Her voice abruptly changed, obviously imitating the principal. “Absolutely not under any circumstances is anyone to leave the building. The policeman outside will be forced to shoot in order to contain…” She trailed off, shivering. “I can’t believe they’d actually shoot us, but if Mr. Gibson said they would…”

The mention of the familiar name set Lauren on edge, and she stood again. “I need to let the office know I’m alright.” She embraced her sister one last time. “Stay safe. I’ll be back.”

Preston shouted after her. “If you’re gone for much longer, look for me in the cafeteria! They’re about done with keeping us all here. Soon as the power comes back on…”

“Okay, Preston!” She waved. Why weren’t people breaking down? Why weren’t people screaming? Why wasn’t she upset?

Chapter 3: Shared Suffering

Lauren wasn’t stopped and asked to explain herself by any of the supervising “ponies”. After seeing what had happened to her brother, she tried to see if her condition had been common. Though she couldn’t tell for sure at a glance as easily with these new bodies, it didn’t smell like there were very many stallions in the room. That was the word for a male horse, wasn’t it?

The trend continued as she crossed the hall into the classroom where many of the office staff were congregating. The space had been transformed into a sort of command post. Another pony wore a policeman’s cap, though this one wore a pair of gigantic pants and no gun belt. Even among the office staff Lauren saw no sign of ponies older than she was. At least the adults hadn’t suffered anything like the freshman and actually gotten younger.

“Excuse me,” she said, over the quiet murmur of voices. “Is Mr. Ortega here?” Ortega was one of the school’s administrators, the one who gave her instructions and was technically listed as her “teacher” during periods she was in the office.

She counted nine ponies in the classroom, which counted for each of the office staff, plus two. One was the policeman, the other was a shape she could only barely see, sobbing into the corner and not looking up. The one she took for a policeman never moved more than a few feet away, and never took her eyes from the stallion. The same stallion that had kicked a door down earlier and started the change on her!

“That’s me,” a wingless, hornless pony said, pushing away from a table covered in squawking walkie-talkies. He looked her up and down. “Lauren?”

“How’d you know?” She blushed, forcing her wings to fold back against her sides. Unfortunately, the more she thought about them the more stubborn they resisted, folding awkwardly and unevenly.

“You’re the only one we’re still missing.” He hopped back up onto the chair. He jumped with a fair amount of dexterity, and sat down again as an animal might. “I’d have liked your help getting all the entrances locked up, but that’s done now. You can go back to be with the others.”

Lauren could barely see his face over the table, so she pulled out another chair with her teeth, took a few steps back, and leapt up, looking at her instructor. Just as with her “brother,” she felt as though she could see something of the man’s face beneath the fur and animal shape. Unless it was just her imagination. Ortega hadn’t even asked where she had been all this time. Clearly he had more important things on his mind.

“I missed the part where we learned what happened,” she said, trying not to sound intrusive. “What happened to us? What’s going to happen?”

Ortega had always been kind, and he showed no sign of annoyance now despite all he was doing. He set down the pencil he had been holding in his mouth. “Second one’s simpler. We’re going to have to stay here. It’s…” He glanced once at the stallion in the corner before continuing. “We aren’t the only place where this happened. College campuses, shopping malls… last broadcast said there were around a hundred sites, all over the country, and a dozen or so in Canada.”

“Until we know more about what’s happened, none of us can leave. The Red Cross has disaster relief supplies on the way. We’ll all have to live here. Until they can figure out what makes this…” he gestured around the room, “contagious.”

She nodded. The weight of her situation seemed to hover on the edge of her perception, threatening to crash down on her and render her a gibbering heap. Only the crash never came. She felt sad that she wasn’t going to see her parents, but thought immediately to all the friends locked into the school, and her brother who needed her. The pain faded to a manageable level, nothing more than the faint twinge of heartache. “But what caused it?” She lowered her voice to a whisper, staring at the stallion she had seen this morning. “Was it him?”

Ortega nodded his silvery mane. At the sudden hush, Lauren found herself suddenly able to make out what he was saying. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Similar story everywhere it happened. This morning, that kid looked like anyone else. Isn’t a student here, but he was the right age that nobody noticed. Dumped some kind of… slime… all over the school. After infecting himself, that is. We caught him smearing the stuff into a vent.” He smiled. “We thought it was mayonnaise at first.”

How anyone could smile at a time like this Lauren didn’t know. Yet she found herself smiling too, in spite of herself. It didn't last long, though. “So it was some kind of… what, bioterrorism?”

He nodded. “That’s what the media is calling it.” He lowered his voice again. “You didn’t hear this from me Lauren, but I don’t think he expected to live. Some of the things he was saying earlier…” He trailed off, glanced once over his shoulder, then shook his head. “Never mind. Now that I know what you look like, I’ll be sure to get you if we need you.”

“There isn’t anything I can do to help?”

Ortega smiled. “Thanks Lauren, but I can’t think of anything right now. Mostly we’re playing the waiting game. When the supplies get here, you come back. We’ll probably be able to use you then.”

It took until well after nightfall, which would’ve been much worse if they hadn’t been able to get the power on before then. Lauren helped some of the teachers and faculty clear out classrooms for sleeping areas. They sorted only by sex, which post-transformation meant two classrooms for males and the rest for females.

Lauren had really wanted to spend the night with her friends in ASB, like a surprise field trip… but then she had seen how nervous Preston was, and how unwilling she seemed to approach any female friends her own age. Lauren refused to let her own family remain in such need, so took her by the hoof and wandered until they found an empty corner in a classroom few were using. They spread their white red cross sleeping bags on the floor beside one another and crawled in as someone flipped off the light.

It was another one of those little reminders of just how small they were, what with two desks able to cover them both comfortably. Had either one of them stood, their heads would not have touched the underside of the desks. Lauren was grateful nobody had stuck gum to them. The sleeping bags themselves were another reminder: though made for one, Lauren felt like she was wrapped in an oversized quilt. The presence of the desk-legs around her made her feel a little more secure, though not as much as the warmth and smell of Preston’s body just above her head. Evidently ponies were not meant to sleep alone.

There wasn’t much noise in this room. Evidently it was one of the few ponies had chosen to actually sleep in. Lauren heard chattering through walls on either side, and she suspected it might be going on much of the night.

“Thanks for helping me,” Preston whispered, looking up to meet Lauren. “I wasn’t looking forward–”

“I know. What kind of an elder sister would I be if I abandoned you?”

Preston didn’t answer for a minute. “Do you think we’ll be able to fly? These wings look small, but… hummingbirds have small wings, and they fly.”

She giggled, muffling her voice against the pillow. “I don’t think our wings are meant to work like that, but… yeah, I think we can. Else, why have ‘em?”

“Penguins don’t fly.”

“They use theirs to swim!” she protested, grinning. “Do ours look like they’re for swimming?”

“What about ostriches?”

“I think shrinking you just concentrated the nerd.” She reached up, above her head, tapping Preston on the shoulder with a hoof. She was careful not to hit too hard, since she still didn’t know just how hard a hoof could strike.

“I was only bringing up animals ‘cuz you–”

“Yeah, I get it. I stand by it. I feel like I can fly! Or… I ought to be able to fly. Don’t you?”

Preston’s answer took several minutes, so long that Lauren had started to drift. “I do,” she eventually said. “But I feel lots of things I shouldn’t.”

“And we don’t feel things we should,” she agreed. “Was there screaming and panicking earlier? Nobody looked hurt…”

“Heck yeah. I think somebody almost got trampled when things started. Lots of people tried to get away, but nobody got far. My class was a madhouse, people thrashing and choking…” She shivered. “But when we changed, it got better. That’s what disturbs me.” She lowered her voice even more, so that it was nothing more than a faint whisper. “Nobody trips when they walk. Only a few freaked out enough that they had to be taken away. Most of us…” She shrugged. “Everything got taken away from us. We should be furious! Or… depressed. I don’t feel like either one, and I know I should.”

Lauren looked up at her sister in time to see her tap the side of her head with a hoof. “It’s not just our bodies. It’s in here. It’s got to be. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.” Preston shivered all over, whimpering. “If… If we changed that much, am I even still me? Or…” She took a sniffling breath, then started to cry. “Or did Preston die? I’m just the… just the monster that thinks she’s Preston. I’m just the vector to spread the infection, just–”

Lauren would hear no more. She twisted in her sleeping bag, sliding along the ground so that she was beside Preston instead of above her. She had to squeeze in close to make them both fit, but that was the point. She reached out with both forelegs and held her sister close. “Shh, shh! You’re too smart for your own good, kid. I think you’ve been thinking too much.” She stroked her back, just as she would’ve done with a small child. She felt her sister’s quivering form, the way her wings twitched with every sob.

Preston had been as wary about his “personal space” as any male teenager. Only now she didn’t seem to mind, burying her small face in her sister’s chest and weeping openly. Lauren found the tears contagious: she cried right along. Even if she didn’t fully understand what her sister implied, even if she didn’t really share her discomfort: it was enough to know that someone she loved was in distress.

“Forget about th-that,” she whispered. “We don’t know enough. Let’s wait until we know the facts, ‘kay filly? We can save the tears for after we’re sure. I don’t know about any of what you said, but I know you’re Preston. That’s all that matters to me.”

The little pony eventually calmed down, blinking away tears. “Where’d you get that word? Isn’t a filly…”

“Yeah.” She blushed. “Sorry. I… didn’t even think about it.” She patted Preston on the head. “I didn’t mean anything. You can stay my little brother. I know that’s what you probably want.” She gave one last hug, then returned to her own sleeping bag.

When Preston finally responded, it was in a faint whisper. “I only… thanks, Lauren. You’re the best big sister ever.”

“Duh.” She yawned. “Could’ve… told you that…”

Chapter 4: Common Cause

The next morning passed in a rush. The ponies in school seemed to wake at different times. Lauren and Preston woke among the earliest, along with many of the others with wings. Despite waking just before dawn, Lauren didn’t feel tired. Preston didn’t seem to either.

Fortunately for them, there were enough other winged ponies that someone had been called to organize breakfast. For everything else that had changed since yesterday, cereal with milk still tasted as bland as ever. There was at least one good thing about being smaller: they didn’t eat much.

By the time everyone else started waking, Lauren and Preston were the first into the shower, long before the hot water ran out. They learned that morning just how awful soap tasted. Fortunately, she had a wonderfully helpful little sister and neither of them seemed to fully understand what should have been embarrassing about it. That fact proved a general trend, as even more of her fellow students abandoned ill-fitting clothing for the nudity that felt so natural in these bodies. Hats, scarves, and other accessories were common, but few of the ponies she saw bothered with much more.

By early afternoon, she finally got her chance to spend time with her school friends. They couldn’t leave the building and there were no classes, but that didn’t mean there weren’t interesting things to do. Chief among those was watching the activity outside the building, which clearly hadn’t slowed even when the ponies within had gone to bed.

People swarmed outside the building. Lauren recognized the national guard when she saw them, and wasn’t surprised to see several different cities worth of hazardous materials people. One night was all it took for a second fence to be erected around the building, towering over her and nearly as high as the school itself in places. One of the athletic fields had been transformed into a command post, with a huge “inflated” building and dozens of armed men all around.

From every window in the building it looked like the roads into campus had been closed. No parents snuck onto campus, despite the faith some of the younger students seemed to have that theirs might “come for them.” As though this transformation wasn’t still contagious.

Lauren had no delusions that her parents might be “taking her away” or showing up to “make things better.” Gone were the years when she thought all adults were infallible aliens who had the answers to any questions that troubled her. She had thought for sure those years were gone for her friends too… not so. Being transformed appeared to include baggage.

By mid-afternoon, Lauren found herself again in the gym, this time perched awkwardly on the edge of the bleachers. Thank God the gym had a set of retractable bleachers; there was no way they would’ve been able to set up enough folding chairs for everyone. They had struggled just to get the ten set up for the school’s office staff and other leaders.

“Preston!” She stood up suddenly, waving down at the filly. “I’m right here!” She had never sat with her brother at assemblies, not before. Now, though, the poor little filly seemed far more shy than she had been, too shy even to spend time with her friends. Hopefully she would adjust to that. In any case, her shouting worked, and Lauren watched her younger sister make her way up the steps, having to pause and take each one with care. The stairs were another godsend: humans could easily climb bleachers, but at their size even the stairs were a little too much. “Hey you piles, scoot over. My brother’s coming.” She shoved, and her friends begrudgingly made an opening.

Preston hopped up beside her, wings spreading instinctively as she jumped. It was hard to tell for sure, but it looked like she got slightly more air than she ought to. “Do you know what this assembly’s about?” Her brother didn’t sit down right away, and instead spent a few moments looking around them. She seemed interested by what she saw.

Lauren couldn’t see anything. Just the big projector screen against the far wall, the same old speaker-system, and bleachers full of colorful horses. Nothing to see here. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to say what this was about, but… it was about to start anyway. She lowered her voice, leaning close to her sister’s ear. “The President is going to speak to the country. About the attacks. You know it wasn’t just us, right?”

She nodded, though she never met Lauren’s eyes. Her new sister still seemed fascinated by the crowd itself. “Thousands of different attacks, right? All over the country. That’s what ponies have been saying.”

“Ponies?”

“Well that’s what we are, aren’t we?” She sat down. “We’re not humans anymore. Just look around.”

She did. “It doesn’t seem that different. Same… Same friends, mostly. Same loud conversations. Same people screwing around on their phones.” Much slower, though. There was a rumor that metal foil could be used on the touchscreen. Given that nobody had hands, her fellow students had already discovered a solution: wrap foil around the butt-end of a pen and use it in your mouth like a stylus. Lauren hadn’t tried herself; her phone had died earlier that day, and she didn’t have a charger. The few students who did were charging for their use. She didn’t see much of a point, when the cell-lines were too crowded to get a call through most of the time anyway.

“Really? Look at how everypony’s sitting! We normally spread out in the bleachers, right?”

“Everypony,” Lauren repeated, voice flat. “Every pony? That’s stupid. It’s not like the word was every-human before.”

Her sister ignored her. “We’re all sitting together this time. Most of the bleachers are empty. It’s like… a herd of wild horses, looking out for predators. Nobody wants to be outside the group.”

“You’re overthinking things again, Preston.” She leaned down, nuzzling the top of her sister’s head. “There was just a disaster, alright? We’re scared, we’re missing our families… I think it would be this way even if nobody had been changed into anything. It’s more that a natural disaster is more important than teenage angst.”

“I guess. I still–”

Presten was interrupted by voices from the ground, as the principal rose to his hooves on a little platform in the center of the room. It didn’t take ten seconds for everyone to shut up and let him speak. His speech wasn’t long, just long enough to explain the nature of the disaster again in brief and announce the fact that the President of the United States was about to broadcast his official response. He sat back down, and somebody turned on the projector.

The room was almost silent as the far wall filled with an image of the White House lawn. A formal stage was already set-up, already filled with most of the important political people. Seeing human figures again might’ve been a surreal experience, had Lauren not spent her afternoon watching them through the window. The usual politicos were there, though the population on the platform below seemed heavily populated with generals and other military representatives. The President alone was absent, though there was a colorful little countdown on the top of the screen. There were less than thirty seconds left, and still no president. It was strange, though she couldn’t have said exactly why she thought so. They didn’t stare at the silent transmission for very long; just as the countdown ended the President’s voice began.

“My Fellow Americans. Today we gather as a nation to mourn–” and so it began. The speech proceeded much as many such speeches had in the past. Lauren found herself taken in by the charisma and skill of the delivery, so much she almost didn’t notice the slight differences in the voice. The podium remained empty.

The president recounted the basic details of the attacks, confirming the massive scale of the operation. There had evidently been hundreds of distinct strikes, targeting the largest, densest population centers in the country along with a number of some strategic and national-defense areas. No, he didn’t know how many people had been affected, though thanks to whatever had happened in Times Square the number was in the millions.

That was when the president actually appeared on screen. The stage and the lawn vanished, replaced with what Lauren took to be the oval office. Only thick plastic had been put up lining all the walls, and every human in the room wore a black hazmat suit. It wasn’t just humans in the room. The president stood at a podium, small enough that it was actually sitting on his desk. Even with that height advantage, he was still a foot shorter than the humans around him.

The President of the United States was a pony. Lauren found herself impressed at how fast he had found a tailored suit. He was probably going for dignified, but she couldn’t help thinking “adorable” instead. Part of that was probably that his mane looked exactly the same as his hair had in some of the other pictures she had seen. “Those who haven’t seen the effects of these attacks on social media now see their results first hand.” He raised a hoof for emphasis, staring right into the camera. How did he look at the whole country without looking even a little bit embarrassed?

The broadcast changed to show a medical lab, with a respectable-looking doctor facing the camera. She also wore a hazmat suit, though it had been made clear so that her coat was visible underneath. Behind her on an examination table were four adult ponies, matching each type Lauren had seen and one she hadn’t.

The ponies, naked and looking far more embarrassed to be on display, cooperated with the doctor as she explained each one in turn. Yes, the ones without wings or horns had superhuman strength. Yes, the “unicorns” really could levitate things, though she suggested people not actually try it, since it also seemed to be able to do other things, such as start spontaneous fires. Both the other kinds had wings. One was a pegasus pony like Lauren. There was another, possessed of the same lean body but with batlike wings of skin instead of feathery like a bird. Despite what biology suggested, members of both races had been observed flying. She suggested people avoid trying, since they also seemed to have hollow bird bones and probably wouldn’t survive a serious crash.

The doctor explained a few more useful details: the transformation seemed to take between ten minutes and two hours, depending on how the individual was exposed. Symptoms began with a sensation of heat or pressure in the area first exposed, and progressed very rapidly from that point. Once the process is complete, infected individuals spread the infection via some airborne mechanism, though she said they did not actually know what the mechanism was yet.

The doctor also explained what they already knew: either the transformation process affected apparent age or else these new beings experienced the process differently, because there appeared to be no meaningful biological difference between someone who had been twenty and someone who had been sixty.

This done, the feed of the president returned. “Of course, we still have a great deal to figure out. We’ve got the best people working on this, and I promise we’ll get the information out to folks as soon as we know it.”

Preston frowned at the screen, whispering in her ear. “He hasn’t said anything about changing us back. I bet they don’t know how.”

The broadcast continued. “For the next week, we’ve frozen most public services. Schools, the mail, and every government office not connected to intelligence or defense. I advise all citizens to spend as little time in public as possible, and wear masks at all times. Do not touch an infected person, even a loved one. While apparently not fatal, we still do not understand the nature of this infection.”

“Many have asked how such a large attack was possible. We still understand very little about the people responsible. What we know with certainty is the attackers were very well coordinated, as all the attacks we know of took place within twenty minutes of each other. Several of the attackers we captured believed they were distributing smallpox.”

“I assure you all, my fellow Americans, that every measure is being taken to prevent future attacks, and to repair the lives of those who have been hurt.” He continued, though he didn’t have much more to say. A few more patriotic lines, then the transmission ended.

“They don’t know. Thousands of attacks, and they don’t know who’s responsible.” Preston stared down at her hooves, ears flat. “No timeline on if they can cure whatever’s happened to us, either. What a waste of time.”

“What were they supposed to do?” Lauren frowned, watching Preston. “It’s been one day. You think they’d know if this could be reversed that soon?”

“Well… I guess not. I guess I just hoped…” She didn’t finish, and Lauren didn’t really need her to.

“Me too.” She sat up. “Hey, you know how they’re giving all of us phone calls home later? We should go at the same time, so we can go for twice as long!”

Epilogue: Recovery

Several months later…

Preston whined as Lauren lifted her head, holding another broken feather in her mouth. She spat it to one side, then shoved the filly deeper down into the plush of the mattress. “Quit struggling! It’s harder if you don’t hold still!”

Ponies were flexible, younger ones even more so. Preston turned to glare over her shoulder without difficulty. “You said you’d be gentler this time! I don’t think that last one was ready to come out yet!”

Lauren glanced down, and saw there was indeed a few drops of blood clinging to the shaft of the broken feather. “Sorry!” She touched her head slightly to the top of Preston’s, then pulled away. “Looks like that was the last one, anyway. Let me just…” She lowered her head again, taking her time to return every misaligned feather on Preston’s wings to their proper place, spreading oil on each one as she went.

Preening had not become less dull, but having someone to help and talk to meant she could at least pass the time without entirely losing her mind. Her own wings were already prepared, since she had gone first. Preston always wanted to go last, as though that might make the simultaneously boring and intimate process less of either.

They hadn’t shared a room before, but things were different now. A single bed felt like a vast ocean, swallowing both of them with room for half a dozen more ponies if they needed it. Neither of them had felt strange to be sharing it, like it was a nest atop a seaside cliff. Of course their ability to fly couldn’t completely eliminate another frequent difficulty when it came to living in human spaces: everything was gigantic. The difficulty of erecting ramps and stepstools all over the room was part of the reason they had elected to share.

The bedroom door swung open, which was easier now that it never fully shut. Like every door in the house either one of them used, handles had been replaced with long lengths of rope, which could pull the door open from either side.

Mom stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “You two are still here?” She rolled her eyes, then glanced down at her watch. “You missed the bus twenty minutes ago.” Lauren had since learned just how much sharper her eyes were. In this case, they were even sharp enough to pick out the little scar on the side of her mother’s arm, where the inoculation had been injected about a month ago.

The inoculation that let a human interact closely with a pony. As it turned out, ponies only remained “contagious” for a few days after transforming. Only fluid contact could spread it after that. That was still dangerous enough to mandate the inoculation for anyone who lived in households with ponies. They would need it again in a few years, though nobody was entirely sure how many years it would take.

Lauren rolled away from her sister and stood on the bed. Even so, she was at least two full feet shorter than her mother. “The bus is stupid!” She hopped down off the bed, spreading her wings as she did so. The gesture was all it took to slow her fall. She landed lightly, instead of the painful sprawl she would’ve been in if she had just tried to jump down almost three times her height. She bent down to where her saddlebags had been dropped the night before, and started to fight with the connectors.

Seeing her struggle, her mother bent down to help, loosening the straps with one hand. As much as it embarrassed her not to be fully independent, Lauren enjoyed the feeling of a warm hand against her coat, so she didn’t resist. Lauren never bothered with clothes anymore, aside from the scarf and goggles for windy days. “There.” Her mother rose, looking back up towards the bed. “Hold on sweetie, you don’t have to get down.” She lifted Preston’s bag, helping her too. “There.” She stepped back. “Am I driving you?”

“No!” They answered in unison, then giggled. Lauren added: “Just open the window!”

The towering woman frowned, then sighed. “Do you have to?”

“Well, we’re pegasus ponies now. Every machine in the world is made for humans; we can’t drive, we can’t levitate things like unicorns can. Why wouldn’t we use the powers we do have?”

Her mother flipped the latch and pulled the window wide, letting in the chill of a winter breeze. There was no snow yet, but it was cold enough.

Lauren twisted on her scarf, and she watched Preston do the same along with warm socks on each hoof. She needed Mom’s help with those too. “You don’t have to. I’m more than happy to take you.”

“Psh.” Lauren spread her wings and fluttered up onto the dresser beside her mother. Had she been human sized, the distance might’ve been almost twenty feet away. She didn’t even hesitate, flying past her mother without bumping her and settling lightly on the wood. “We’ve got this. Flying takes like half the time it would take to drive there.” She spread her wings, stretching each one. They cracked and popped with the gesture, as though they had been knuckles on her hands. Hands she… didn’t have anymore.

Her mother only watched, as one might watch an exotic bird perched beside her. And that was exactly how their mother saw her, Lauren knew. Colorful, exotic, and delicate. Still, that was better than her father, who refused to pick them up for fear he might accidentally hurt them. And Preston, well… their father wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

Her sister was quite a bit more hesitant with her flight, but made it up onto the dresser without much trouble. “Lead the way?”

“You know it!” Lauren gave her an encouraging nuzzle, then jumped out her second story window.

The fear of flying was all gone now, vanished into months of careful practice. She didn’t frantically beat her wings as she had done her first few times, just spread them wide. Air rushed past her as loud as an open window on the highway, filling her wings and slowing her fall. As she came within a few feet she tilted herself upward and flapped, sending herself into a powerful climb.

Lauren was larger than almost all birds, and faster too. Soon she was level with the second story. She passed Preston still sticking a fearful head out the window, and called towards her: “C’mon! You don’t wanna be late!”

Her sister slid out of the opening a little more cautiously, like a child nervous about jumping into a deep pool. Preston was the only pegasus Lauren knew who was afraid of heights, and she made no attempt to hide that fear from her sister. Lauren had agreed to be the only pegasus who didn’t make fun of Preston for her fear.

“You don’t have to fly with her.” She heard her mother’s voice from within, soothing. “I can still take you.”

“No.” Preston advanced another step, her face hardening. “I’m going.” The filly hesitated a few moments more, then jumped with a whimper into the air. She didn’t plummet, as her fear might’ve suggested was about to happen, but started moving up almost immediately. Despite their resemblance to birds, much of how they flew was very unlike avians. Despite their mass and comparatively un-aerodynamic bodies, they needed no running start or vast wingspans to lift them. The desire to fly was power enough.

Even so, Preston had to flap her undeveloped wings twice for each beat of Lauren’s. She didn’t seem to mind, and took up formation just behind her. “Let’s see how high we can get!”

“Fly safe!” Their mother waved, leaning out the window after them.

“Like we wouldn’t!” Lauren shouted back, then slowed down so she was closer to her sister. “Think you can make it all the way to the clouds this time?”

Preston’s teeth clenched with determination. “I’ll make it!”

They didn’t, but it wasn’t Preston’s fault. After a few minutes of flight, Lauren glimpsed a familiar group of ponies moving on the sidewalk, and she shouted “Hey, Preston!”

Her sister slowed to an awkward stop in the air, hovering with hummingbird wings. “Yeah?”

“I’m… I wanna talk to my friends. Can we go to the clouds on the way home?”

“Sure.” Preston’s ears flattened, but she didn’t object. Her eyes were just as sharp, and by then she had seen the direction Lauren was looking. “Let’s go.”

Lauren landed with a flurry of wings and hooves, scattering dust and debris with the force of the wind she made. None of her friends here had wings of their own, and so her landing was met with a collective eyeroll. A few seconds later, Preston settled down behind her, much less dramatically. Her friends didn't seem to mind; like all ponies, they were friendlier than they had been before.

“Do you always have to make such an entrance?” Carol asked, flicking her mane back into place. “You could just land like Parker.”

“I could just spend the whole day on a cloud, too.” She grinned. “But that's less fun than it sounds, too.”

She only got another eyeroll, and Jen nudging her with one shoulder. The earth pony probably didn't mean for it to be too hard, but her fantastic strength was enough to almost knock Lauren down with a tap. “Whatever, birdpony. Just don't land on anyone.”

Lauren grinned back, catching herself before she actually fell. Her friends had always liked to tease each other, and even being ponies hadn't changed that. “Haven't yet!”

Carol groaned, then leaned a little closer. “Did you hear about Ohio?”

She shook her head, slowing a little to make room for Preston to squeeze in beside her. Nobody minded; ponies didn't care much about personal space.

“You haven't?” Neil, her only male friend who still was, grinned mischievously at the news. “You really ought to keep a closer eye on current events, Lauren. Stuff doesn't stop happening just because you close your eyes.”

“I don't like watching the news.”

Preston spoke up, her young voice barely a squeak. “What happened in Ohio? More attacks?”

“Not even.” Neil's attention turned on her, and his expression softened a little. Her friends could be merciless, but they frequently showed the filly a little more compassion. “They're building a pony city. A whole city, just for ponies!”

“Buildings the right size!” Carol gestured with her hooves.

“No being mistaken for stray dogs in the dark,” Jen grunted.

Neil stopped walking, right before the doors to the school. “They've already got hundreds of ponies who want to move in! It's gonna be the coolest thing ever!” All around them, ponies swarmed up the steps, saddlebags loaded with books and supplies. For every ten ponies there was one human, those few who hadn't been on-campus during the attack. Most of those were seniors, making them seem even bigger. Ponies flowed around them like water, keeping far enough away that they wouldn't be kicked.

“Adults too, not just kids?”

“Psh,” Carol gestured all around. “Except for your sister, we're all adults. Another year, and we'll graduate. By then, half the town will already be built. News said anypony who wants to could move. You should come!”

Lauren wanted to answer, but at that point she was swept up into the crowd, and had to practically swim against it to make it to the office for her student assistant class.

Life was different, and so far it didn’t seem like the transformation would ever be reversed. Ponies were just another part of western society now. What had been intended to inflict crippling casualties had instead created an entirely new type of person.

Lauren didn’t really know what would happen now. She didn’t know if their parents would eventually decide to be ponies too, to take care of them better. She didn’t know if having communities made up of tiny “magical” beings was going to work.

She didn’t feel like she had to know. She wasn’t living in the school anymore; she had her friends and her sister and parents who supported her. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have hands, or that she was smaller than most dogs.

It was enough.

Author's Note

And that's the end of the story. Well, kinda. As some have pointed out in the comments, it's not really a complete narrative. It's not unlike a single, protracted scene, with a single idea to share. It was written for a TF contest, so that's all it was really meant to do.

However, while this story is done, I wrote it as a way of exploring a future universe I want to explore. As any who have read can attest, it doesn't really answer the big questions. It more... showed us some questions. When I expand this story into a full-length novel, we should get more of the information that we don't currently have. So yeah, I'm sorry if the experience is a little unsatisfying to some of you. Hopefully you'll come back for the full story to see what an actual narrative will be like, as opposed to the contest entry.

-Starscribe