Author's Note

Heads-up: This is my first time writing for a few years. If the story seems a bit messy with grammar then let me know. If there is an error in wording let me know. I'll try to make updates on it as often as I can so any little help is very appreciated comments.Also, be nice in the comment and constructive criticism is welcome as long as it's constructive. So thank you for stopping by and I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1: A Frozen City

Ponies change quite often, right? I guess so. Even as a little colt, I can give endless examples. Bullies turn into best friends, family members into abusers, and our own opinions change in the blink of an eye just to "fit in."

I use to think that the snow is destructive and unpredictable: that it'll block our roads, cause our stores to be closed, ponies getting stuck in their own homes, and even property damage if it's bad enough. It's ironic now that I love the snow on the roads. The few brave ponies use it to keep "them" away.

"Them" being those beasts that walk in our skin. I heard several names for them: demons, creatures, freaks, geeks, mothers and fathers, and merely the infected. However, it isn't just some random disease. It changes whatever poor soul to be sick, to become "them."

I once dream that a little girl cries out to her mother. The mother's remains is a tunic from limbs and head rip her apart on the inside. Almost like a grotesque onesie.

Everypony stays indoors away from them, yet the indoors have different infected hiding in ruins. But it's better than being outside. Nowhere is safe; even my safe house is dangerous to be in. For all I know, an infected could be hiding in one of the corners, and I don’t see it. It's clear now of the new laws of the lands, we are the hunted, the prey, the cattle.

"They will win," I whisper. That old saying, "the white pieces always win in chess," they will beat us. You only need to walk outside to see it.

I watch the scenery from the fire escape. A constant, still image of Fillydelphia can be an artist's paradise. Even though I'm no artist, the scene is beautiful regardless. That doesn't change the sounds through the streets.

I watch the ruins of the city, Fillydelphia, daily with complete focus. Then during more peaceful times, I sleep, eat, drink, and take care of my private ‘requirements.' I also wait occasionally for a friend to bring some much-needed supplies. And yet, I start losing faith in his safe return. But he does have his own place, so it's likely he's there instead. I will never know for sure until I look for myself, guess tomorrow is best.

My haven is a modern-day apartment that I rent, before the virus. It's a bit small one with gray walls, a baby blue couch, a simple dining room set up in a kitchen, and a bedroom with only the bed and two dressers compact in a room roughly the size of a walk-in closet. It's cheap shit, but it’s home. Ironically this is my second time being here.

"H-H-Hey! Guess who's back!" A voice startles me from down below in the lower apartments. It’s most likely one of the goons that taken refuge there shortly after the outbreak. I leave my peaceful view and try to see the source of the noise. I look through a small hole near a corner in my living room, I can see the big room the neighbors use to celebrate.

A giant pegasus with a dark green coat and even darker mane enters the room, with two bags over each shoulder. The large string bags bounce heavy on his shoulders as they kept rock along with his torn up wings. "How's it going Dubious," A black earth pony with a blue mane greets, " I see you got lucky today."

"I know," Dubious cheers, "The best thing was it was from a previous encampment. No stealing required." Dubious then opens one of the bags and empties the contents across the floor: cans of food, boxes of bullets, and a few bottles of water. The containers were dirty, with odd stains of a glowing substance.

Several other ponies gather around in Dubious's honor. A small fire starts on a glass coffee table, and the ponies gather quick around it with bounces in their steps. The ponies dig into the supplies without a second thought. I don’t blame them, food is a rare commodity in this city.

Lips hug around cans of beer and face's spread out with every morsel of food in them, the ponies begin to settle down in and sink into their chairs. They all start to pass around stories. Most were short, and others were close to epics.

"Hold on," A blue pegasus with a red matted mane interrupts, " I got a one. Do you remember the Fetus drop, you know when we were all in panic and the media was trying to cool everything down?”

The Fetus drop, or Fetus Day as I come to call it. It was when all of this began. I never saw it, but its something that drops out from the sky and lands in the middle of Manehattan. At the time, it brought up a lot of controversies, from the philosophers, if you call them that. Some say it's a calling card from a fucked up god, while others agreed it was a dark spell gone wrong. However, it didn’t matter who is right, for two days later, it explodes and starts all of this. It's about two years since then, and from what I have heard, Manehattan is a jungle of entrails.

"Yes," the black pony jumps in. "What of it?" He asks.

"Well," The pegasus begins while twirling his mane. "I saw one of the smaller version of that thing wondering around here." I don’t know the name of this fetus he discusses, but I do know that the original is the same size as a skyscraper.

"So, what?" A pony out of site speaks out, "We've all seen all kinds of those shitty things roaming around here. What makes this different?"

"This one spoke to me," the blue pony responds.

"That's bullshit," yells Dubious," they don't talk. All the demons do is run around to find us, eat us, then crap us out. So,
what exactly did this 'Fetus' say to you?"

"It asks me if I know where any mares were at."

"What the fuck?" a mare yells from the crowd, "What kind of question is that?"

"You sure you weren't just horny and drunk at the time?" Then an outburst of the questions sent the crowd into a frenzy of insults and threats. Soon, they gather around the blue pegasus with their beer cans raised and then empty the contents onto the helpless pony and soak him.

"Stop it, you idiots!"

"Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit!" they cheer over the victim's protests.

"Stop! Do you realize your wast-”

"Bullshit! Bullshit! Bul-" The whole room then shook suddenly before growing dark. They stop altogether and observe outside my vision. I Look up to my window; my heart drops in dismay at the view.

An eye stares at me. The bloodshot eye has a purple iris and a pupil in the shape of a cross. The eye stares down at me, grips me in my stillness. It blinks twice before it pulls away from the window. It silently moves toward the side of the window I can see that this mountain of a bear, is, or was, an Ursa Major.

Its body and head are rocky in texture. Its skin is full of big spikes and boulders which stretch his "old skin" that waves in the wind.

You know it’s strange. For the first time, ever since I got here, my peaceful view is now one of terror. The old world is gone, and the new one has begun.

I am looking forward to kind of story you are going to make. If you need ideas for the story, I am always here to help you out until next time laters.

So, it only seems to create a bad omen. Whether it is for me or my friend, Hazel Serenity.