1602

by Derpy Chocobo

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Thriller, Crossover
Length: 2377

The changeling invasion of Canterlot left behind significant damage. While some could move on, others sought escape from the nightmare of their memories. A few, however, learned an unfortunate truth. Escape isn't always relief

After the changeling invasion of Canterlot, many citizens had to rebuild their lives from the rubble left behind. Many were able to move on, but some remained deeply scarred by the experience, unable to forget the day those they trusted had twisted into monstrous creatures before their eyes. They sought escape from the nightmare of their memories, but some learned an unfortunate truth.

Escape isn't always relief

Crossover: SCP Foundation (Though you don’t need to know anything about it before reading)

Editor/Pre-reader: Falling Night
Cover Art by tricolor

Published 2016-10-30 22:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-30 22:00:01 UTC

Cleanliness

Metal on metal, the slow slide punctuated with a heavy thump.

With the deadbolt of the door lock securely in place, I flipped the light of the motel room on, unceremoniously dropped my saddlebags to the floor, and collapsed onto the bed. It had taken some time, but I was finally away from it all. Far away from all the things that drove my mind towards that day. The things that reminded me of...

The bed creaked weakly as I shook my head, forcing myself to stop pursuing that train of thought. I couldn't help but groan at the whole situation I found myself in. After everything that had happened, things were finally starting to look up for me. I had gone to every session and kept up with all my meds. Last month I even managed my first decent night's sleep that didn't require an aid. Honestly, if it weren't for the free therapy programs set up by the Crown as part of the disaster relief in Canterlot, I probably wouldn't even be alive right now. The invasion had taken many things from me, my will to live nearly being one of them, but after several months, I was finally able to start seeing a future for myself again. Things would never be the same, but life could go on, and I was willing to accept that truth.

But then I saw her.

Or, rather, I thought I did. Looking back, it was probably just my mind playing tricks on me, but at the time I could have sworn it was her, walking through the crowd down the same streets we used to take home from work. It was just a glimpse, but ever since, I hadn't been able to stop the flickers of false recognition. I'd see her face for a moment on some random mare in the market, only to realize upon a second look that they merely shared a mane color, or some similarly minor feature. I'd hear her voice while walking down the street. One morning, I could have sworn I felt her by my side as I woke up.

But she was never really there, I know that. I had brought it up with the doctor, and the medication helped for a little while, but soon I couldn't ignore the thoughts. Even when I wasn't imagining her presence, I couldn't help but be reminded of her by every little thing I came across on a daily basis. It became more difficult to get through the day without breaking the illusion that everything was fine. Work became stifling, the city, overwhelming, but the worst was when I would get home. There was no escape from the memories that would assault me once I walked through that door. It was the place we had built our lives together. We had bought the place cheap, fixed it up room by room, and over the years it had accumulated the pleasant atmosphere that comes with shared experience. These same experiences now were tainted by that day, twisted into a jagged dagger that struck at the deepest parts of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to move on.

A few days ago, the voices started. First a slight whisper, tickling at the back of my mind, but soon I could make out their taunts.

You should have known.

You ignored all the signs.

You let that thing replace me.

You killed me.

Water splashed audibly against fur, flesh, and tile.

As the water helped snap me back to reality, I tore my thoughts away from the voices and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My reflection barely distinguishable, silhouetted as it was by the magelight from the bedside lamp of main room that managed to filter in through the half-open door behind me. Despite the darkness, I couldn't bring myself to care enough to turn on the bathroom light. I could still feel my heart pumping hard as my panic lingered. I came here to get away from all that. The whole reason I did this was to escape the that pressure had built up beyond my limits. I just needed some time somewhere new, somewhere unfamiliar. Some time to escape the things that I had once found comfort in.

I took a minute to practice the breathing exercises my doctor had gone over with me.

In, hold.

Out, pause.

Over and over, I repeated these steps, allowing the tension in my nerves to slowly drain away. With my body no longer itching to run for the hills, I could start to focus on something else. The still-running faucet was the most immediate detail to grab my attention. A quick twist of the valve stopped the flow, and from there I noticed the slight chip in the sink by my right fore hoof. Tiny bits of porcelain were scattered on the floor, and one of the tiles shared similar damage, meaning I must have flailed a bit too forcefully in my mad scramble to the bathroom. A quick shake dropped the remnants of sink off my hoof, and I slowly slumped down onto the floor.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, indulging in the period of actual silence. Just myself, with no taunting voices or tainted flashbacks to drive away my sense of peace. This could work. I could spend a few days here, a brief vacation to see the world outside the shell I had found myself trapped in. With any luck, this break could serve as an anchor to keep me focused on what life could be again. My doctor will probably be concerned when I miss tomorrow's session, but I'll try and get word to him that I'm fine. I'm sure he'll understand my need for some space.

Light plastic scraped slow and loud against a hollow metal rod.

That...wasn't me.

The sound brought me out from my thoughts, and almost immediately my nerves started back up. My immediate assumption upon hearing it was that I had absently made my way across the bathroom and had drawn the shower curtain, but I found myself still seated by the sink, well away from the shower. My mind was screaming at me to turn my head and confirm the source of the noise. I needed to know what potential threat had managed to sneak into my room while I was unaware, but as much as I knew this, my body was gripped by an equal compulsion to stop moving. I had to remain still, lest I draw attention to myself and bring upon me whatever horrendous end the monster just outside my vision had in store for me.

Willpower pressed hard against the ice in my veins and eventually pushed through. I turned to see the semi-opaque plastic shower curtain on the other side of the bathroom. It had what looked like turtles patterned across it, a detail I could make out by the pale white glow emanating from within the shower. More pressing, however, was the hoof that had drawn back the curtain a short way. The hoof was, naturally, attached to the silhouette of a pony.

"W-wh...who are you?" I managed to force out.

The shadowed pony's head tilted slightly in what I could only imagine was confusion, and then it set its other forehoof down outside the shower basin.

"How could you forget me?"

Her voice rang out with similar confusion, and it took a moment for me to realize it wasn't in my head. My heart stopped. Was it really her? After all this time, could it be that-

"No." My mouth spoke before my mind could latch onto the impossible hope any further, though my voice lacked the firmness my insistence implied. "You're not real." She-...It. It had to be an illusion. My mind playing tricks on me. She was dead, and no amount of delusion or wishing would change that fact. This thing was just like the voices back home.

"What? How could you say that?" It replied with equal parts feigned offense and thinly veiled amusement.

"You're just another trick my mind is playing on me." I replied despite myself. "I just need to go and talk to my doctor, and it'll be fine. You're just an illusion. You’re...you’re not real."

The shadowed pony stepped out from the shower, its hooves clicking lightly against the tiled floor.

"Oh, I'm quite real."

Though I couldn't see it, I could feel the smirk on the thing's face. It was taunting me now as it slowly stepped closer.

"I'm real, and I won't let you forget."

"You're not allowed to forget."

"What you did to me."

"I didn't-"

"What you did to me!"

It slammed down a hoof hard enough to shatter the tile as it thrust itself forward into the light from the doorway. Her face glared at me with an unholy fury, panting with maddened breaths in its sudden rage. As it-she...the creature stood before the door, the light ate away at its form. Her fur dulled and started falling out, the flesh beneath sagged and sloughed. Blood from numerous open wounds and freshly formed gaps in its skin left a trail from the shower, now pooling by the creature's hooves. What parts of it didn't age and decay burned with malicious green fire, revealing the form of the monster I had spent months trying to forget.

The worst part was that, while her shape was ravaged by death, the monster's form remained pristine. Its chitinous hide bore no wounds or signs of battle. Its fanged muzzle maintained that infernal smirk while her guts quite literally spilled out of her widening wounds.

"You will remember. You will pay."

I'm not sure what I had ended up with in my hooves, or when I had grabbed it, but I brought it down with all the strength I could muster. The force reverberated through my limbs, and the sound of thick, shattered porcelain shards showering against the floor filled the motel room. For a moment, I was blinded by the rage that had suddenly overtaken me, but I could hear and feel my chest pounding with my heavy breaths. My muzzle nearly pressed against the floor, I tried with all my strength to force myself to calm down. Tears traced their way down my snout as the sound of my own crying interrupted my breaths.

I couldn't do this any more. Even if everything was just a figment of my torturous imagination, this had become far more than my capacity to bear. I had come so close to recovery, but no matter what I did, it was abundantly clear that I could never escape what happened that day. Even after running away and isolating myself from all the familiar things that reminded me of it, the truth was that I couldn't escape the persistence of my thoughts. These memories would haunt me forever. They would never let me forget.

I stifled my sobs and pushed myself back up, meeting the eyes of the creature as it stood patiently before me. The monster's armor was no worse for wear, and her flesh had mended back into the familiar form of the mare I had loved. I stared at her fur as it began the cycle of decay once more, but simply couldn't gather the energy to be upset. The malice in the creature's eyes was gone now. It simply tilted its head in the same sense of confusion as before, then turned back towards the shower and took a step forward.

I knew I was meant to follow.

Blood and viscera were still littered the floor, squishing and splattering around beneath my hooves, yet my steps were firm as I fell in line behind the creature. I didn't know what it had waiting for me on the other side, but I was not going to run any more. There would be no escape for me.

It was time to face my fate.

Celestia's sun had just risen as a small, light gray-blue mare in a clean, black suit once again stood before the door to room 1602. According to the reports on the disturbance, the pony that had rented the room for the night was heard shouting at an unknown pony late the previous night, and the occupants of the adjacent rooms claimed that they heard loud, slamming noises. The stallion at the reception desk said that the room's resident had come in late that night, alone, and looked on-edge. This was her second visit to this room, though the receptionist wouldn't have remembered. It would seem she missed something the first time.

The inside of the room was normal enough. The resident's bags were still packed and haphazardly placed on the floor by the door, while everything else looked as though it hadn't been touched since the cleaning staff had come by last. She disregarded the rest of the room and swiftly made her way to the bathroom door. Inside she found the toilet was missing the lid to its bowl, though looking at the floor, it was easy to see where it had gone. Bits of the lid were scattered everywhere, along with shards of a few broken tiles. It was clear there had been some sort of struggle here, likely one that ended violently, and yet there was key expected evidence missing. No blood, no bits of fur, no indication that a pony had been harmed here at all.

The mare looked towards the shower to see the curtain drawn. Within the basin sat a pony matching the receptionist's description of the room's resident, absently staring off into the distance.

"Hello?" She asked cautiously, one hoof resting on the waist of her suit.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear anyone come in." The resident spoke slowly, their eyes still focused on the middle distance beyond the wall.

"Are you alright? Did anything happen here?" The mare gestured to the mess of porcelain on the ground, though the pony didn't seem to notice.

"Yes I'm fine. I just took a shower." The pony’s head lazily turned to meet their guest’s eyes.

"It was rather cleansing."

Author's Note

Item Documentation
Incident Report