Two Worlds Collide: A Microscopic Tail

I'm going to try something new; I'm feeling a bit rushed today--being a Narrator is very busy work, you understand--so I'm going to just give you the story and go do... I don't know, Narrator stuff; enjoy.

Eighteen people were currently trapped in Shining Harmer's roller skates. They didn't know how they got there, they didn't know why they were there, and they certainly didn't know how much worse it was going to get. The earthy smell of hoof mingled with the pungent stench of sweat, and while it was oppressive the air wasn't anything they couldn't get used too.

In case you didn't know who Shining Harmer was she--well, she looked like Princess Cadence, and she was a derby pony.

The people weren't stupid, they'd been in this world long enough to know never to trust an uncertain situation, and despite the language barrier that separated the humans from understanding each other one thing was ingrained in their beings, and that thing was survival; whether a pony was walking towards them, making something to eat, using the bathroom, or anything else that qualified for Slice of Life, each one of these things and more promised death to anyone who wasn't constantly aware of their surroundings.

Those with magic tried to teleport to the opening, those without attempted to climb. All of these acts were met with the same result; failure. The magic gathered to teleport exploded as soon as it reached a usable level, not only wounding those attempting to do it but also maiming them; their flesh boiled and burned, bones fractured and broke, and those who managed to teleport never reappeared.

Magic wasn't going to work, but what about those climbing? They weren't going to make it out in time--they were slow, their movements clumsier than they should be, and eventually they too gave up. Magic didn't work, and they couldn't seem to be able to rely on their bodies to get them out, so they did what any reasonable person would do; they began to discuss any and all ways they could escape, while at the same time trying to calm and assist those who had harmed themselves with magic.

But any attempt at deliberation was broken as the skate began to move. People screamed in terror and pain as their world lurched from one point to another, the light funneling into the cavernous interior of the skate was blotted out by a giant mass of flesh and fur, and with a sound that rivaled a rock slide pouring down from a mountain the giant hoof slipped into the snug confines, heedless of the screams below.

Shining Harmer had a game to get too, and one by one she slipped her hooves into her shoes before she glided out into the ring. She lived for this; the cheers of the fan ponies, the beating of her heart at the prospect of her match--it was times like these that made her proud to have her Cutie Mark be what it was.

What she didn't expect, however, was that beneath her hind leg was a bedlam of screams ranging from fear, to pain, to abject horror--each of which grew as that hoof hit the ground to propel her movements. Over and over again, the people within her skates hope for survival slipped further and further from their brains, and in its place despair set it; when Shining Harmer's hoof hit the bottom of its skate, several things happened.

The first was that people died. Everyone watched the skies, even as the light was consumed and their world was cast into darkness, their heads pounded from the noise and bodies vibrated from the feeling of the hoof scraping against the walls. These things were negligible, though--they all happened too fast for anyone to really notice. What they did notice was the landing; even to their tiny ears they heard the brief screams of pain and the crunch of bone and muscle as the mare's weight fell on the few unlucky enough to be under her frog.

Those close enough even felt the sticky warmth of blood beneath them, spraying their faces and drenching their clothes as the pressure made those beneath it pop like zits.

The second thing that happened was the G-Forces hitting them. As Shining Harmer pushed herself forward, those in her skate were violently thrown back, flung against the roof of her frog, slammed back into the ground, then tossed towards the front of her hoof. It was a cycle with precious little in the way of reprieve, and only those with magic were able to hold their ground. While they couldn't gather enough to teleport, they could use it as an adhesive to bind them to the skate's floor.

Those unlucky enough for that only had their newfound resilience to keep them safe, but even that had its limits when your brain was being rattled around in your head like a hacky-sack, and boulders that were undoubtedly only tiny pebbles to the mare rained from her hoof like tiny meteors, pelting--but not killing--the unlucky few beneath them.

The third thing that happened was the attack on their senses; each time the Mare's hoof hit the floor the clack of the wheels brought with it a continuous eruption of noise for those trapped above. The air reeked with the smell of dirt, mud, and hoof as the heat that poured from the surface of the pony's skin continuously amplified each and every scent. Each thing, each breath the people made and impact they felt, each time they were tossed around or struck by stones, and each explosion of sound that threatened to tear open their ears repeated upon itself over and over and over again.

By the end of the first lap, there were only five people still alive. To make matters of survival even more bleak, Shining Harmer's acts had started to make her sweat; the air grew humid, each breath the survivors took of the pungent effluvium clung to their tongue, throat, and lungs-- it only took a few more moments before drowning began a genuine concern.

The atmosphere was becoming unlivable. The moisture from Shining Harmer's hoof soaked into the bottom of the skate, the oxygen the humans were using to breath had been completely replaced with the stale, cloying fumes as the heat grew more and more unbearable. The few who had survived as long as they had were running out of strength, and as the salty liquid began to pool at their feet, drench their bodies, and invade their mouths it was only a matter of time before something gave.

The first one's magic failed, and she soon felt her body fly back and break the concentration of another, where both slammed into the slick bottom of Shining Harmer's frog and found themselves glued to the boiling mass. Two down, three left.

Another simple collapsed from exhaustion, though unlike the previous two his magic gave out long ago. He only remained where he was because he had used his last bit of magic to partially sink himself into swamp-like sole of the skate, holding him in place even as his consciousness gave way to oblivion. Two left.

Those two... they held on the longest, but for their reward was no less fatal than those who fell before. Drowning was not a way anyone would truly want to go; the bitter fluids that pumped from the mare's pores flooded the two completely, and as their bodies automatically tried to take in the toxic air in some vain attempt to breath, they're lungs filled with the sweat and within a few seconds they two faded from their world.

Shining Harmer's team managed to win, and she never did realize the sole of one of her skates had become a graveyard for the humans she inadvertently murdered.

Hm... that seemed to lack some flair, in my opinion. I think the lesson of this story is... always check before you put your shoes on? Eh, I'm sure that's good advice for someone.