On Black Wings I Rise, On Black Wings I Fall

Alright, I do not own MLP: FiM. Those rights belong to Hasbro. The only things I own are my OC’s.

Chapter written 6/26/2012 by Ryan Christopher Adams. (I do this to avoid anyone else from copying me and getting away with it.)

*Clunk*

“Ah, sweet relief.” I muttered while popping off the bottle cap and swigging down a few sips of the cool, refreshing, ice cold brown liquid inside the plastic bottle. Yep; nothing like an ice-cold Coca-Cola (yes, I used the brand name; sue me.) to freeze your throat when it’s a hundred degrees outside. Taking the soda and topping it with the cap once more, I sat back down at a table within the crowds of people, walking to and from whatever stores were in my vicinity.

Ah, the mall; not as nice as an internet café, or as private as my room, but it allows a change of venue without the smell of chocolate violating my nostrils or my family members barging in unannounced and rubbing whatever new chore they’ve given me in my face. Don't get me wrong, my family was a nice group of folks, but intrusions when I'm trying to work infuriate me to no end. I slipped the Legend of Zelda sling off my back, sliding out a chair and taking a seat, unzipping the first pocket while taking out a leather journal and a single pen out of the bag. Laying them both on the table, I plugged the headphones into the iPod in my pocket. Scrolling through my library, I decided to go with “Crepuscularity” by AcousticBrony. Did I mention I’m a brony?

Yeah, so far, only my family knows, and thank goodness they don’t hold it against me. Not that I’ve mentioned it to anyone else… or that I have anyone else to mention it to. I’ve heard of stories where people were threatened to be booted out of their homes simply for liking the gem of a show. God, the world I live in sucks. Wars about to start within years of each other; idiots diving into cactuses (don’t even get me started on that); Equestria seemed wonderful this time of year. Well, can’t really do anything to help that. I mean, it’s just a cartoon.

Man, was I about to be bitch-slapped by life.

Taking another swig out of my Coke, I continued to write word after word, going into however much detail was required for the story I was planning out. What? Can make a house without blueprints; same goes for writing. However, someone tapping on my shoulder took my attention away from the ink spreading across my paper. I turned my head to find… a teenager, roughly about my age just standing right behind me. There was nothing really special about him; he wore a red jacket (despite the blazing temperatures outside) with a black T-shirt underneath (was this guy nuts?) and a standard pair of jeans. Oh, and he had pale white hair. THAT was sure to turn a few heads.

“Um… can I help you?” I asked, taking the ear-buds from my… well, ears, and placing them back into my jeans pocket.

The white haired teenager simply gave a smirk before replying “I do believe the question is ‘Can I help you, my good sir.’”

Something wasn’t quite right about his voice. It was sly and slick, but intentionally misleading, like oil. Don’t believe me about the oil? Look at all the problems it’s caused, like war, and the oil spill, and all the deaths from video games with the help of a torch. Without another second of warning, a chair from the table I was working at suddenly spun out from under it while the teen sat nonchalantly, kicking up his feet and resting his hands behind his head.

I raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “What do you mean?” I replied as I began to fill my throat with the life-restoring liquids that had cost a mere dollar.

“I mean I can send you to Equestria.”

The sentence caught me completely off guard; I had to catch my Coke from spewing out of my mouth on sight. My eyes shot open like soda out of a shaken up canister (heh, soda jokes) while my jaw dropped like a lead balloon. Before I could even respond, I was meet with

“And don’t even think about denying that you’re a brony. I recognize that song that you were listening to anywhere. An excellent mix of techno and classical music, I might add.”

I couldn’t even begin to think about my answer. Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. It was along the lines of “FUCK YES!” and “Hit me with your best shot.”, but I still couldn’t completely trust him. If, and that’s a VERY big if, he was telling the truth, there was no doubt a catch. I’ve read fiction after fiction about people in this very same situation, and when they end up getting transported to the most hostile environments imaginable they end up losing something, like an arm or their voice or… wait! Who am I kidding? This is the adventure of a life time I’m looking at! If I’m going to Equestria, I’m not taking the easy route like most people; if Echo could put up with being a Diamond Dog, then I can put up with being… well, whatever the hell I’m going to end up being.

“Alright” I replied, leaning over and resting my elbows on the table, try to get a good look at the white-haired teen. “I’ll play your little game. But on just one condition.”

Taking his feet off the table, the teen reached into the back pocket of his pants, taking out a single sheet of paper with all manner of writing on it. It looked a lot like a contract. Well, I’m about to take a deal of super-dimensional proportions, so I guess this is something that should be expected. Glancing down at the paper, the text seemed oddly… peculiar to my eyes.

I, reader of this contract, here by accept the terms and conditions listed by the writer of aforementioned contract, and in no way shape or form, have any desire or opinion to return to the world from which I have been sent. Any and all other demands are to be listed below.

And low and behold, a dotted line lay blank, to which I wrote my deepest desire.

Wings.

Any person that knows me, and for some reason, not many people know me, knows that I DESPERATELY want to fly. A world transfer to Equestria would solve just that, so anything else would be fine; just give me some wings and I will be happy.

After signing my name at the final dotted line, the paper was rolled up via scroll fashion and placed back into the pocket of the teen.

“I believe that the terms and conditions have been accepted, so let’s get this show on the road.”

And with a snap of his fingers, my trip through utter chaos, the abyss and even hell itself began.

Before my body even knew what was happening, shots rang out through the gigantic hallways that made up the mall I sat in. Off in the distance, a body fell, dripping with fresh blood while my pupils went wide with horror. Scooping my journal and pen into my sling, the bag went back around my back in seconds while I scrambled to my feet. Not once did I look back at the table. I was too fucking scared about being SHOT! This was first shooting, and I did NOT want it to be my last! Okay, I did, but not in that kind of way! My legs moved as fast as my body would allow them while I shoved any person that met my path out of my way, desperately trying to get to the exit. After I saw a clearing, the beautiful, transparent glass doors lay right behind the empty space. Shoving another person to the ground, I went full blown Sonic on the empty space, reaching my hand for the doorway before

*BANG!*

My world stopped. Everything around me froze while my hand, now trembling, edged for my chest, clutching it with bitter emotion. Removing the grip from my shirt, I looked down at my hand, now stained with fresh, crimson blood. I nearly vomited at the sight. My body felt weightless as I began to fall to the floor. That lying bastard of a teen. I swear, the first second I get, I am haunting his ass to kingdom come. I’ll make the Bell Witch look like a pussy! The last thing I remember is my eyes half-closing and falling, but I don’t ever remember hitting the floor.

Well, that’s it for this chapter. Please do leave your opinions in the comments section, as I do enjoy advice from you readers. It helps with story development and other such things. Also, I’m sorry if the chapter didn’t seem so good to start with. I haven’t worked on a big project like a new story in a while, nor I have worked with the first-person POV in some time, but bear with me as the story will get better. Until then… crap, I don’t have a clever one liner…