Stone Vault

“Truck-sama… Whyyyy?” Walter weakly cried out in a pain induced delirium. Fluttershy nearly had a heart-attack when she heard the poor critter speak. The bowl of soup she brought in was lazily spinning on the floor, in the very location she had so hastily vacated. It wobbled a few more times before slowly thruming to a stop. A pair of nervous blue eyes peered around the relative safety of the arm chair. As Fluttershy tried to regain control of her breathing, her mind was working overtime.

“He spoke!” inner Fluttershy panicked, “But not like animal speak! Real, honest to goodness, in Equestrian, spoke!” As her mind struggled to process this information, Walter moaned again. This shocked Fluttershy out of her floundering panic. “The poor thing is still hurt, I’ll figure this all out later.” Nodding to herself in conviction, she cautiously approached the sleeping creature. Beginning the long process of changing his bandages, Fluttershy was grateful the critter was seemingly receptive to her attempts to roll him over. While she went about her work quietly, she once again considered her next course of action. “What if he’s not an animal? He could be some kind of Minotaur?” she compared him to the next closest creature she could think of. She rolled him back into a more comfortable reclined position, “Maybe I should take him to the hospital instead?” Having finished changing his dressings, and seeing he was still in a fitful slumber, Fluttershy decided to clean up the mess she made with the soup.

As Fluttershy went to retrieve the mop and bucket, she saw that she had inadvertently piled her guest’s clothing in front of the closet door. When she picked up the pile of ruined clothing, something fell out, clattering noisily against the wooden floor. Peaking over the bundle in her forehooves, she saw something she hadn’t noticed before… A name tag.

Forgetting about the soup for a moment, Fluttershy set the pile of tatters down before turning her attention to the little piece of white plastic. It had not faired too well in whatever hardships her injured guest had gone through, but she could still make out the name.

“Stone Vault...” Fluttershy whispered to herself. What a strangely pony name for a seemingly un-pony like creature.

“Ummmm…” She heard a deep, stallion-like voice call out from behind her.

Fluttershy froze.

Slowly turning her head in the direction of the sofa, she locked eyes with her guest for the first time. He stared back at her with a look of both shock and confusion, one she was almost certain she shared.

Well, her’s probably had a little less confusion, and a lot more absolute terror.

Before the rational part of her brain could catch up. Fluttershy started screaming bloody murder, threw the name tag as hard as she could at Vault, and bolted for the nearest exit. Startled at the sound of this tiny yellow banshee, Vault started screaming as well. Vault scrambled to his feet, intent to run in the opposite direction of the little, butter-yellow demon horse. However, it was at this time that he discovered that he, was in fact, heavily injured. On top of that, he was covered in blankets that quickly tangled around his legs.

“Yep.” was all he managed to get out before his face became very intimate with the rather lovely hardwood floor. He was out like a light once again. Not that Fluttershy had noticed, she was halfway to Twilight’s by the time he was introduced to her floor.

Pain.

For but a fleeting moment of his rather short existence, his entire world was white hot agony. Though brief, it felt like it lasted a thousand years. But to be fair, it is sort of what one would expect after being hit by a speeding truck. However, the pain subsided and was soon replaced with a new sensation. Soft, sort of pokey, and slightly damp.

Vault opened his eyes, and was dumbstruck at what he saw. He was lying in a forest, a dark, foreboding wood. He was not, as he expected, in a hospital, or lying in a twisted heap on the side of the road.

“Oh good, I'm dead.” Vault said aloud to no one in particular. As he staggered to his feet, he noticed the intense pain was completely gone. In fact, he didn't seem to have a scratch on him. This pretty much confirmed his “I’m dead” theory however. Walter decided to leave that existential crisis behind for the moment, and turned his attention to more immediate problems. Namely, ‘Where am I?’, and ‘What do?’

Utilizing his extensive lack of practical knowledge, Vault decided to stay put. He had never been in a forest before, one of the disadvantages of spending your entire life in a desert. So, instead of wandering off in a random direction, possibly off a cliff or something, he decided to yell for help.

“Hello!?” he cupped his mouth and bellowed, “Is anybody there!?” His only reply was the whistling of the wind. Vault called out like this until he felt his voice grow hoarse, but he never heard a reply. Defeated, Vault sat down on a nearby log to strategize his next move.

Before he could contemplate his own mortality, he heard a rustling in the underbrush. His elation at potentially being rescued quickly turned to cold realization. “Not everything in the woods is friendly…” he thought to himself as four canine figures emerged into the clearing. “Those are… some very tiny wolves.” his confusion clear on his face. And it was true, he expected wolves to be big, like a husky or something. These things were barely bigger than cocker spaniels. He figured he could probably scare them off, considering he was so much bigger. However, that thought died off when another eight stepped into the clearing.

In the light of the setting sun, Vault finally got a good look at the cocker-wolfies. What struck him first, was their jewel-like green eyes, which seemed to glow faintly. Next, was the fact that they had no fur or hair, instead tough, craigy skin. It almost looked like… Tree bark? He started slowly backing away from the dozen tree-wolf-spaniels. As they circled around him, his mind was flying at a mile a minute.

“Shit! What do I do now!?”

“They’re probably going to wait to surround me before striking, and the attack is going to come from behind.”

“I wonder if Pratt-keeping really works?”

“Ooooooh, I get it. Timber. Wolves.”

And with that, every other thought came to a grinding halt and died.

“Are you fucking serious?” Walter deadpanned. And right after, was reunited with his old friend, Pain, via sharp wooden teeth to the leg. Vault cried out, his anger starting to rise. He didn't know who to be upset with more; himself for allowing his focus to slip, the little bastard for biting him, or whatever asshole banished him to a place that preyed on his natural weakness to puns.

“You little shit!” Vault grabbed the small tree-vermin by the neck and choke-slammed it into the ground. He briefly wondered if that was too much when it exploded into twigs and leaves. Then, he realized it wasn't nearly enough when it started to put itself back together. Just like the damn Liquinator or, more aptly, a spooky skeleton. He felt a shiver crawl down his spine.

“Uh oh…” Vault finally realized how utterly fucked he was. If he was a different man, he would have gotten scared. Maybe concoct a desperate but daring escape plan. Maybe run for dear life off into the woods. Maybe break down crying at the hopelessness of the situation. Or maybe even pray to whatever higher power was listening, and beg for salvation. But no, he did not do any of these typical, more sensible things.

Instead, he got angry.

Really fucking angry.

It happened so fast, even Vault didn't realize until it was too late.

“No!” Vault growled out between teeth clenched so hard, his gums began to bleed.

“No!” he roared aloud, his knuckles popping, as he curled his fingers into vicious claws.

“Please, no.” he pleaded mentally, no longer able to form words. Unleashing an inhuman howl, he launched himself barehanded at his attackers.

“Not again.” his rational mind whimpered, as it faded into nothing more than white noise. He grabbed one of the wolves mid lunge, squeezing it’s skull until it shattered in a hail of splinters. This one didn't get back up.

“Good.”

And then, everything was Red.