Stone Vault

Twilight reappeared in the front lobby of Ponyville hospital, and immediately knew something was wrong. A small group of patients, staff, and visitors had all gathered near the hallway leading to the isolation wing.

Right where the guards should have been.

As Twilight galloped past the onlookers, she saw a guard come flying out of Stone’s room. He impacted the wall with a sickening crunch, Twilight could only hope that the armor had done it’s job and absorbed most of the impact. Nurse Redheart exited the room shortly after, dragging an unconscious Dr. Check-up along with her. As Twilight prepared a stunning spell, she heard the sound of glass breaking. Rounding into the room, she saw the last pegasus guard rolling back to her feet, the broken window behind her.

“Corporal Nightingale, what happened here?” Twilight asked as she helped the mare stand.

Nightingale groaned, “Sorry your highness, we weren't expecting the creature to be so strong. It kicked Stormy through the door before it picked me up and tossed my around like a rag doll.” she coughed weakly. “Then the crazy bastard jumped right through the glass.” she pointed to the broken window.

Twilight looked out the window and briefly considered her next course of action. “Corporal Nightingale, are you alright?”

Nightingale nodded, but let out a pained grunt when she tried to adjust her wings. “Urg… Sorry Princess, my wing must have gotten twisted when I hit the floor.” she held her right wing limply at her side.

“Nurse Redheart!” Twilight called out to the hallway, “Can you take care of the injured?” she questioned.

She was currently attending to the dazed Stormy, but Redheart looked over and nodded at Twilight. “It doesn't look like there are any serious injuries. I'll be fine here, you just worry about that monster!” she called back.

Taking that as her cue, Twilight spread her wings and took off through the broken window. “I'll be able to spot him easier from the air.” she planned, “At the very least I can go get Rainbow, if Spike hasn't gotten that far yet.” But for now, she had to try and find Stone before anypony else got hurt.

“Somepony send for the Princess, immediately!” yelled out Dr. Check-Up, still trying to regain control of the situation. The sound of rapidly retreating hooves could be heard on the other side of the door.

He had definitely gone insane. Maybe the accident had given him brain damage, maybe he had died and was in some kind of adorable purgatory. Vault was oddly calm considering he was fairly certain he was having a heart attack.

It was strange, to say the least, like watching the events unfold from the perspective of an uninterested third party. The doctor and the nurse both scrambling to save his life. Walter watched Dr. Check-up, who he just now noticed was a unicorn, light up his horn with a pale blue aura. This same aura surrounded his body for the briefest of moments before winking out of existence.

Then all hell broke loose.

Walter suddenly felt like his blood had turned to acid, and that his skin was aflame. The most disturbing part, was that it felt almost... good. Walter didn't stay in the much too small bed for long. Mostly because his thrashing had shattered the frame. The tiny nurse pony was frantically shaking her colleague, the doctor having apparent fallen unconscious. As Vault clambered to his feet, she began yelling.

“G-guards! Help!” she cried out before attempting to drag Dr. Check-Up out of the room with her mouth. Vault didn't like the sound of that, but he had a matter to attend to first. The fact he was very naked, save for some medical gauze here and there. He could hear the sound of hooves on tile rapidly approaching. Thinking quickly, Vault tied the bedsheets around his waist. It was less a toga and more a skirt, but it'll do.

Just then, the door flew open and a pair of armored flappy horses came charging in. By this point Walter had enough, he saw the tiny stallion rushing him in a straight line. He kicked out at the small horse just after he came into range, but Vault had misjudged the little guy’s speed. He missed the chin shot he was aiming for, and ended up nailing him in the armored chest. With more power than he thought possible, he sent the guardspony sailing out of the room. In the moment of impact, Walter was almost sure he looked just as confused as the stallion.

“I’m too strong” Vault fretted, “I don't know how, but at this rate I'll seriously hurt someone.” A darker, more primal part of his mind replied “Good.” Walter ignored it for the time being, as the second guard went for the more tactical approach. Leaping at him, but then quickly changing her angle of attack with a quick flap of her wings before diving at him.

“Can't hit her, but I can't exactly let her hit me.” Vault noticed the broken bed, and smiled. “That’ll work.” As the mare launched her attack, Vault grabbed her by the forehoof before turning and pulling her over his shoulder. The soldier let out an undignified squawk when Walter drove his shoulder up into her chest, and swung her down towards the mattress. She bounced, hard. She impacted the spongy surface on her back, just like he intended, but she then shot up and into the ceiling.

Vault didn't have time to check on the injured guards, even now he could hear the telltale sound of equine reinforcements. Not seeing a whole lot of options, he opted to jump out the window. As soon as his body went through the glass plane, he was immensely relieved to discover he was on the first floor.

If Walter stopped to consider his situation, he might have realized that running could only make things worse. He was lost in an unfamiliar area, and he might be hallucinating. However, the adrenaline running through his system clouded his thinking. All he could focus on was trying to outrun this nightmare.

And run he did, doing his best to avoid more bird horses, ducking under trees and roofs whenever he could. The logical passenger to his flight of terror briefly marveled at the architecture, they were like little cottages. He wondered why they didn't live in barns?

“Racist,” the snarky part of his brain remarked.  Vault didn't dignify that with a response, he was far too busy panicking. He covered a lot of ground in a short time, much quicker than he could ever remember moving before. Before long, he found himself on a country road outside of town. As he kept running, he found himself surrounded by apple trees, fruit still heavy on the vine. Separated from civilization, he finally paused to take a breath. His lungs were burning, but in a way he could understand. As he calmed himself, he realized his blood and skin had cooled. The chill of the night began creeping up on him.

He needed to find shelter. It would be really stupid to survive all this, only to die of exposure. So, at a much more sedate pace, he began to search for a suitable place to bed down for the night. Wandering a little further he stumbled upon a quaint little farm near the woods.

“Well, that would explain the orderly trees.” Vault said aloud, mostly to keep himself calm. Not wanting to risk another encounter, he snuck his way onto the property. The farmhouse lights were off, so he chanced getting closer. There was a barn near the house, but he could hear no animals, so maybe it was just for storage? He crept up to the barn and slowly made his way around the side. Once he reached the doors, he cautiously pried one of them open. He opened it just enough to slink inside, and carefully shut it behind him.

The barn was a vast improvement over the outside. While it was still chilly, thanks to the large gaps that let the moonlight in, but cozy nonetheless. As Walter prepared himself a bed of straw, the rustling of the hay masked the sound of the barn door opening.

“What in tarnation!?” a distinctly feminine voice called out from behind him. Vault released a distinctly feminine squeal, turning so fast he lost his footing and fell into the larger stack of hay. Struggling to escape, he flailed and clawed his way out of the straw pile.

“N-now now, let's talk this over like…” Vault began as his face emerged from the hay. Only, he was now more or less face to face with the little orange pony. Or rather, face to butt. Before he could properly process this turn of events, the southern pony reared up on her front legs and kicked out with all her might. Both rear hooves hit their mark, which was Walter’s confused face.

For the fourth time today, Walter Stoneman took the express train to sleepy time junction.