Chronicles of Chris Redner

by TheTrooper121136

Chapters

Satiation
The Void
Perserverance

Satiation

Chapter 1: Satiation

We build Cathedrals to our pain.

Establish monuments to attain,

Freedom from all of the scars and the sins,

Lest we drown in the darkness within!

His mind, in a state of disarray and indistinguishable emotion, could not remember where he had learned it from, or perhaps more importantly, why it had such a profound effect that his conscience should choose to remember it.

He'd been staring over his right shoulder for quite some time as it began to ache and only now did he realize exactly what it was that had attracted his attention; war. He focused on the battle before him, for upon the paned glass, not a mere inch from his face, he witnessed the violence that had befallen the outside of the window. He watched as drops of condensed water crashed upon the smooth surface, forcing itself to spread in all directions as far as it could, making the space it could touch become engulfed in the moisture. Each drop continued to fall in an unharmonious and uncoordinated pattern, letting fate decide which one landed where. There was no aim and there was no target. The sole objective of the rain was to cover everything; to conquer. And with each crashing drop, they came closer to completing their objective as each one came nearer and nearer to the others landing point, threatening total takeover as the drops fused together. Combining forces, they flowed freely in small rivulets as they crossed the glass, tearing with unimaginable force through all parts untainted by the rain. Soon all had become lost in the water. The window was defeated as the rain took over, incessantly hitting the already slain opponent, creating small cracks of noise; the tortured yells of the pane.

His gaze drifted to his left slightly as he looked away from the window of the car, his mind hoping to find some comfort amidst all the negative emotion. The boy breathed deeply and sighed, as if trying to cleanse his being with crisp air. Try as he might, the green fields that were his mind are forever stained in blood. There was no reprieve from the seeds of death he'd sown in the peaceful earth. There was to taking back the countless times he'd fed those dark plants in the blood of innocence. He was doomed to suffer through the hell he'd created for himself. And what a hell to create that began its existence not a day ago.

***

"Everybody on the ground, right now!" he shouted intimidatingly at the crowd, who in response immediately dropped on their stomachs in terror of the masked man wielding an unregistered 9 millimeter he'd obtained from his friend, Josh Myer, who also had his own and was across the room shouting obscenities at a man who'd tried to reason with him. Remembering what Josh had taught him, he unflinchingly placed his gun in the face of the young woman manager and politely asked her to open the vault, to which she quickly and shakily complied.

She led the young man through multiple hallways, shaking while her eyes darted back and forth, not quite sure why they were searching or what for, but knowing she'd do what she had to if she found it. To her dismay, though it wasn't of any particular degree, she didn't find the mysterious and unknown thing she'd searched for, and instead proceeded to give in to the boy behind her. After one more pass, she stood before the great vault, still trembling as she fumbled through her keys to grip her security card, and though it was of considerable size, it took her long seconds just to merely grasp it as her hands seized from terror. By this point, young Chris had become extremely agitated and vented upon his poor victim, "Hurry up, lady, or you'll end up dying where you work."

Not exactly the most intimidating thing ever, but who cares. It works.

With the door now opened as the woman scrambled in heed of the threat, the boy looked casually over and replied politely, "Thank you, Miss." If he hadn't been robbing her, she'd have taken it sincerely, which completely threw her off guard. The timing of confusion was perfect as the assailant whipped his arm, pistol in hand, and struck her across the face. The force of the blow was well over the necessary force required to knock her out but he didn't want to take any chances. With the woman unconscious, it was one less hostage he had to watch. He stared into the vault astounded as his arms went limp as the only thing his mind registered was the awe as his eyes reflected lights of gold bars and tied cash to the back of his mind. Just one would suffice his lust for the money.

He was barely able to walk forward and observe the beauty in front of him. He outstretched his hand, his heart yearning to grasp the heavy metal as his upper body was thrown to his left, his legs swept from underneath him and his head snapped back from slight whiplash as another mass tackled him to the ground. His heart skipped a best as he looked face to face with an officer.

***

Chris could never understand the gravity of his actions, he was too young. Too vulnerable and malleable. Able to be bent and deceived, twisted and tarnished. Though he had many years ahead of him, the next twenty were going to be arguably the hardest years of his life. The punishment, the time, the mental breakdown; he never could have foreseen the consequences.

Chris sighed and closed his eyes, hoping for some release from this unknown nightmare, some reprieve. He sat, clenching his eyes in a despair he could not even begin to describe; he'd never felt it before and could identify what exactly it was. He quickly relaxed as he gave up trying to find a way to escape his situation; everything seemed so distant, so ambiguous and unnecessary, irrelevant perhaps, as his mind slowly tried to escape, which quickly became clearly pointless as a nagging essence held his mind in place and he again, gave up and focused once more as he heard a voice call out, "Hey, kid. Can you hear me?"

The blatant question startled him for a reason he couldn't define. He didn't quite know how to respond or what the cop wanted, so he replied with a weak and indifferent, "Yes, I can hear you."

"Listen kid, er, what's your name?"

"Chris Redner" he replied with the same indifference as before.

"Chris, what the hell made you decide it was ok to rob a bank?"

Chris noted the tone of the officers voice and was quick to retaliate with a cold anger, "Don't talk to me like I'm your child. You don't know me."

"I know that, son."

"I'm not your son either!" he replied with the same amount of venom.

"Listen, kid, you gotta learn not to talk to me like that. You talk like that to the judge and you'll just piss him off. So I suggest you watch your mouth, punk!" The officer had tried to hide his anger but found it impossible as his voice intensified. Chris fell silent, wanting to wast no more time with idle conversation with a man who didn't care and continued his monologue, no longer aware of anyone else's presence. His mind wandered around thoughts of anger and betrayal, indifference and emotion, and despair. He was in a terrible and unpierceable haze. He turned to his left, attracted by a red light from the corner of his eye that had quickly came closer. It was a tail-light of a truck that had moved dangerously close to the car and was closing.

He took in a deep breath as the truck-bed connected with the front of the car, taking the front of the truck swerving to the right, sending it around the front of the police vehicle as the front of the truck then struck the back of the car, which sent the car skidding sideways. After a small distance, the tires, caught the ground, lifting the right side up and over and sending the car into a roll across the pavement bathed in light. The violence the car and it's contents felt as it sailed through the air, up and over itself again and again and again was inconceivable as Chris, who through the incompetence of the officer, wasn't buckled, was thrown about in the back of the car, striking the insides in pain over and over again until he was thrown backwards to his right. The window was there to meet him as the beck of his head was struck with a force he'd never sustained before. The shock rendered his mind unconscious as he happily accepted and embraced the darkness, no longer willing to fight. His body went limp as his head continuously hit the window, sending him futher and further into the darkness, threatening death. The car slowed to a stop, letting the destruction finally subside, and rested upside down in the median. Chris's mind was already far away from the chaos by the time paramedics appeared, lost in a world that didn't exist, roaming around in the imagination he'd drawn up. With a steady heartbeat, his mind lived out his dream in his loss of consciousness, each being alive in a different place as his mind's grip on reality finally failed, leaving it to the bounds of the dream he'd thought of in desperation.

***

No one came to visit Chris while he was hospitalized; no portrayals of kindness and caring; no family, no friends. His hospital bill remained paid by someone who never held the decency to pay him company or tribute, not that it would benefit him, for according to official medical records, Chris Redner was comatose; alive but not really alive. He lacked all natural ability except the ability for his brain to maintain a regular heartbeat. He was alive, but without his humanity as his mind shut down and satiated and consoled itself in it's new world it had twisted from a memory from his old life; the one thing that had kept him from putting a gun between his teeth; something that cushioned his falls into darkness and angst and had such a profound effect on him that his mind chose it in the stead of all other options and completely shut itself out from reality and everything it knew and everything it loved. Literally speaking, Chris Redner truly had lost his mind.

***

The Void

Chapter 2: The Void

There it was, swirling and soaring through the unimaginable, inconceivable place, void of anything, and yet, full of everything. The darkness, the gateway to oblivion; the infinite void of imagination where everything existed but never existed. Where ideas were thought of, but never realized, never given what could only be described as life; as existence. An incomprehensible, infinite space of the unorganized thought that was never brought to any light; the place where anything and everything was and has always been and yet has never been seen or heard or thought. This place; this unimaginable place of the mass that is unrealized thought is where the conscious and mind of Chris Redner found sanctuary. The Void.

It was in this place, if it could be given such definitive labels, that the spirit of Chris had fled to. It was here that his mind would satiate itself and give life to something that had never before been realized, but had always been there. His spirit braced itself as it took it's first breath of life as something never realized, never born, and never thrown into the raging river of existence. As Chris Redner's old body sat in peaceful slumber in the world before this one, the spirit and mind began anew, forged in the darkness of the void, and were given a new and strange life. The spark that was life found itself injected into the body of a creature that Chris Redner had known of, but had never existed in his perception of his world around him. His spirit, his new found and newly developed body, and his mind were jolted back into the existence now created in the stead of Chris Redner's perception of the world before this one. Each entity; his mind, spirit, and body, were lit aflame in the fires of life, now burning with existence and purpose as the timeline of events developed from his mind began to unfold and take hold in the existence he'd created for himself.

He felt life course though his once dormant veins as his brain became instantly aware, as if it had always existed, and began controlling his body in the involuntary actions it had never conceived. His brain executed each on with the precision of a mind that had existed for several years before. He felt himself breathing as he opened the eyes that had never seen the light of day but had always belonged to him. The light of the world around him bent through the lenses of his eyes, sending electrical impulses that represented his perception of his surroundings. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted immediately as they took in the first rays of light ever perceived by Chris as he looked upon the green earth, if it could be called such. He saw the green of the grass he'd always known, but never seen; the blue of the sky he'd always seen, but never known. He found himself looking upon a field he'd always known of; but for the first time in his new found life, he saw it with the orbs that he'd never used but always had; felt the wind he'd always felt, but never realized; experienced the feelings of life for the first time but with the knowledge of one who had always lived. He knew so much and yet knew so little, for the purpose of his existence was lost upon him. He knew not who he was nor where he was and yet knew he was someone and was somewhere. He knew of his existence but could not define what that existence was nor why that existence was so and why it was in such circumstances. All at once, his mind felt the sadness and hopelessness that he'd never felt but always knew. For the first time, he felt truly lost and even more so than normal considering he was aware of the fact he knew what the feeling was even though he'd felt it for the first time. It was too much; he couldn't understand why things were so but somehow, some way, he knew that they were.

He could not understand; couldn't comprehend. It didn't make sense in regards to why but made sense in regards to what. He shakily stood up on his legs, which supported his body as though they'd already done so; but something was different than what he remembered. He no longer stood on his familiar two legs; in its stead, he stood on four. He was only ridden with even more confusion for though he knew he'd never stood on four legs before, the idea was natural to him. He was meant to stand on all fours. Now he knew for a fact that something was wrong for as he looked down at his feet, he did not see what he thought he was going to see. Instead of the feet he remembered from his life before this one, he saw hooves, and in a fit of slight panic and shock, he stepped back, not sure what he was stepping back from but taking that retreating step all the same as he stumbled backwards.

"What am I?" he thought to himself. He had never remembered being what he was but somehow he remembered the place; the surroundings reminded him of something from his past life already almost forgotten; the premise of his being there was somehow warranted; but what frightened him most was that he, whoever he was, did not know, or perhaps couldn't remember why things were the way they were. However, after some time and recollection, he came to know the premise, the place. He recognized it's being, it's emotion. The place he had sought to go to in his past, and now abandoned life. The one place he knew it existence outside of his terrible nightmare he had once lived. For though he could not believe his eyes, the oblivious pony that he was, was in fact, to his best recollection, most certainly living in what he remembered to be the land and country of Equestria.

Instantaneously his mind raced against itself, trying to piece everything together into a comprehensible puzzle. "What happened to me?" he thought. "More importantly, who am I. Why am I here?" These thoughts and many others tore across his conscious. He stood for many minutes trying to decipher his existence, but to no avail. With his brain nearly fried, he decided to approach his situation differently and make out of this mess what he could actually find out and what would have to wait for another day.

Acting on instinct, the first thing he decided to do was to search his surroundings for anything that would help him find out where he was, how he got here, and, though less important, what he looked like. He stepped out of a slight, cave-like overhang that he had apparently been in during whatever life he may have had previously and let his eyes take in a view of a beautiful open field of flora the likes of which he'd seen only in fleeting memories of his life back wherever it was he used to live. His mind tried to wonder what other things he might be able to remember if time served him well but his thoughts were instantly taken aback. As he continued to scan the area, his eyes met what could only be described as a small town in the distance approximately 12 miles away. "Only here would I be able to see something that far away," he silently thought to himself. Impulse forced his legs to move toward the town; perhaps there he would find the answers to the mysteries that plagued him.

Looking about him as he moved in a westerly direction toward the setting sun and town, he couldn't help but stare in awe at the true beauty around him. The flowing green weeds of the field swayed gently in the cool, nightly breeze, giving contrast to the heat of the summer sun beating on his fur coat. Ahead was the life giving sun, casting it's emblazoned rays of warmth and serenity all across the field and land further away for miles and miles. It was the sky however, that pulled away his wandering attention the most, for it was in this view that he thought he might actually find the meaning of everything. The beauty of the violent sky before him trapped him where he stood. The complex combinations of purple and pink and red pigmentation so smoothly wrapped together somehow put the perplexed pony at ease. The cascading colors that covered the sky and clouds reflected a beauty that he'd never before experienced. For perhaps the first time in his once meaningless existence, he felt truly meditated and comforted. He broke his contact with the beauty in front of him and concentrated on his journey, determined to find the answers he so desperately longed for; and with one foot in front of the other, he gently trotted toward his seemingly impossible goal.

***

Perserverance

Chapter 3: Perseverance

The sun had set by the time Chris was able to approach the town, ushering in the beautifully crafted night, with bright stars riveted across the indigo colored caelum bringing forth his sense of awe and wonder. The cool nights breeze swept through the town as almost a cleansing factor after the long day before the next, gently easing the city to rest and to sleep.

The city was exponentially larger than what Chris had judged it to be, with streets lining the landscape and buildings housing many ponies, equipment, and other objects necessary for the continued and routine lives of the citizens. Piercing the very clouds stood multiple monolithic towers and skyscrapers which seemed to look over the town in a protective and yet abandoned manner at the same time. It was almost frightening in a sense that so many possible things could await him and he had no perception of whether they would be good or bad, helpful or detrimental. He took his first step into a world unknown to him and wandered the streets for hours reveling at the sights. The crystalline waters gently pushing through the worn earth, the stone statues depicting officials and other important figures he did not know all covered in a flowery vine that covered the bottom, outermost regions of the stone, wrapping it in a seemingly harmless blanket of a beauty he'd never realized till now. He gazed in awe at the brilliant trees dotting the streets that seemed to shield the city from whatever may come to harm it. The soft lamps gave a warm glow to the surroundings, lighting the way for an lost, weary traveler, providing an almost guardian like aura of gold light. The whole city, though now asleep, seemed so welcoming and so protective. The feelings starting lulling Chris into ease and exhaustion as his eyes began to feel heavy and his pace slowed dramatically as he longed for rest. But where? Where would he go and who would take him in? He'd no money to spare and didn't even know what had any monetary value at all or what type of currency, if any, was used.

He wanted to ask somepony. To find out their customs and find somepony willing to teach them to him. But his mind and body had other plans for him and he was forced to stop in a small grouping of trees outside of the main part of the city. There, he found a wooden bench and promptly rose to rest upon it. There he found what seemed to be a local newspaper under the heading of "Manehattan Post".

'So that's where I am,' Chris thought to himself. 'Manehattan'. The name seemed so familiar and yet so distant and alien that Chris couldn't put his hoof on it, but he quickly let the notion alone as he was overcome by sleep, finally letting his mind rest completely after this troublesome yet fortuitous day. He let his dreams take hold of him and he was fast stolen away from this world.

***

For several long hours the exhausted pony slept. Though he had almost no recollection of any past and couldn't tell, it was perhaps the first time he'd really slept in years. He awoke slowly, letting the beautiful and glistening morning sink into his conscious. He approached his new world with a newly found vigor of sorts and raised to his hooves, sighing in a long and exaggerated tone which reflected his ease and comfort. The pony felt something--something that he could only describe as good. He was happy. For the first time in a long time, Chris was happy; and only for the sake of the place he was in. Just being there at that point in time made everything seem clearer. With a slight spring in his step, the confident pony looked about him and took in the bustling city, which seemed almost like a living being. It was cleaned, it tended and guarded its residents and kept all the traffic in check. Like blood flowing through veins, giving necessary nutrients to an organism, carts and satchels full of food, water, and other provisions swept through the city, supplying everything with its necessities needed to maintain a certain homeostasis for the city and it's residents. It had a peculiar magnificence that Chris found hard to describe. Instead of working his mind any further, he decided to blindly accept its beauty and move further towards the center of town, all the while planning out his next move.

'Better go talk to someone, I guess--' he thought to himself as the voice inside his head trailed off.

His mind hit a sudden realization like a wall. He realized that he had never spoken himself. He'd no idea what he sounded like or even whether or not anypony would understand him. He thought in a language from his past so long ago forgotten and yet the coherency of his own thoughts suddenly frightened him. How could he think if he hadn't spoken any words. Where did this line of understanding of his language syntax come from; and possibly more importantly, how did he have the cognitive skills to know something was amiss. He did not understand and it frightened him to know that he knew all this information but did not know why or where from. It was as if he'd lived for many years even though, as far as Chris was concerned at this moment, he'd only lived for days. Was it a sort of amnesia? Had he lived for many years in this land but suddenly forget through some sort of trauma? And more importantly, how did he know what amnesia was or how to apply it to his situation. His mind, ironically, raced like a horse around theories and explanations but his mind just wasn't ready to accept any of them. His head started to ache, making the pony abandon the fruitless pursuit of knowledge and carry on with what he did know and what he could control. Hesitantly, he tried to speak.

"H-hello?" he squeaked. His voice broke in its high pitch to which the stallion promptly adjusted to a deeper tone. He wasn't sure why he'd said hello. It just seemed natural. Like he was greeting himself--and in a way, he was correct. "Hello" he tried again, greeting himself more firmly. His voice had a certain low ring to it. An almost heavy power. It was deep, forceful, but comforting, like the voice of a father to his child. Satisfied, Chris slightly smiled and started to move again but was interrupted by an unrecognized voice. He slowly turned and met the eyes of a sea green mare with worried eyes but a calm expression on the rest of her face.

"Are you OK?" she spoke with concern.

Chris slightly reddened at the sympathy from the mare and replied in broken words, "Y-yes. I am f-fine." He felt so stupid as he tried to express his thoughts, but what did he expect. This was, after all, the first time he ever tried speaking. Frankly, he was happy that they both understood each others sentences. He pondered that for only a brief moment till she spoke up again with the same level of concern.

"You sure don't sound fine to me. Are you sure you're alright? Because you were just over there greeting yourself a minute ago." she mused, slightly chuckling to herself at the notion. Chris wasn't sure how to respond and he fitfully tried to form words to answer the mare. All he could conjure; however, were stammerings and stutters that only proved himself all the more foolish.

The mare receded back to her initial concern and bade the stallion to come and sit down with her. On a certain level, she really was concerned for his well-being. Chris hadn't given a clear answer to her question so she thought perhaps some rest would clear his mind. She led him to another bench closer to the middle of town and began again in a friendly and sympathetic manner, "My name's Moonlight." she continued, looking at Chris. "What's your name?" she then asked.

Chris wasn't sure how to respond again. What was his name? It just hit him that he couldn't even remember his own name. His name, the one and only thing that would ever really belong to him and identify him and his purpose for his life. He couldn't remember.

"I don't know" was all he could reply. He didn't even look at her as he said it.

"No really, what's your name. You can tell me." she said reassuringly. But unfortunately, no matter how reassuring she may have been, it didn't change the fact that he didn't know. All he could do was repeat himself in an almost guilty like tone. The sadness in his voice at the loss of his identity struck Moonlight. She realized that he truly did not remember his name.

"Well where are you from?" she asked, almost pleading for a real answer.

"I don't know" he responded once more, even more ashamed of his answer. "I woke up in a cave outside of town. I don't know how I got there or anything that happened before then. I don't even remember my life. I didn't even know what I was when I woke up."

Moonlight almost couldn't believe what she was hearing but there was a certain honesty in his voice and she knew that the stallion remembered nothing about himself. 'It must've been scary for him' she thought to herself. 'To wake up and not know who you are.' She hadn't the slightest idea how scared he really was. You learn how to speak from your parents as a child. Imagine knowing how to speak without any parents. Without a childhood. To know everything except how you know it. Moonlight couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Is there anything I could do for you?" It was the least she could offer. She didn't really expect an answer. What could she do?

"I don't know" he repeated. This time in a monotone, almost dead kind of way.

Moonlight looked to the ground, absently thinking all the while trying to understand the situation. She'd never dealt with an amnesic pony of any kind before and didn't really know how to proceed.

"So you don't remember anything?" she asked him. All he could do was shake his head. Moonlight felt sincerely bad for the stallion and she sat back onto the backing of the bench and thought in silence for many moments, trying to think of any way to help the beleaguered pony out of this hell she couldn't imagine. Thinking long and hard, she went through many scenarios trying to help him; thinking of ways to find out what defined him as a pony. Perhaps if she started there, the rest would come to him in a flash of remembrance.

Suddenly, a simple solution suddenly relieved Moonlight of her troubles and at the realization; she felt terribly foolish for not having come to this simple conclusion earlier. There was one definitive thing that defined all ponies; and everypony had one. His cutie mark! The one mark, or perhaps the one symbol that embodied whatever it was that defined him as a pony. What was his cutie mark?

"I got it!" she exclaimed at her realization. "Lemme see your cutie mark!" A certain wave of almost triumphant energy washed over herself. It was the perfect way to start his journey toward redefining himself. If only it'd been that simple.

"My what?" he asked, slightly confused at the nomenclature.

"Your cutie mark. Everypony has one. It's was defines our talents and ourselves." she explained. But after looking down, she found her triumphant energy quickly leave her, replaced by feelings of worry and misunderstanding. In place of his mark laid only more of his shiny coat. His flank bore no mark she'd hoped for and to their incredible dismay, this made any next moves significantly more difficult. She found herself back at 'square one' with perhaps even less answers than she had before. Chris, not even knowing what she was talking about, dismissed the comment altogether. He was too concerned with his lack of identity to pay any mind to his lack of definition; and though the two intertwined and were equally important, he was too distraught to make the connection and focused on his next course of action.

"I've never seen anything like that on a grown stallion." she spoke in a dumbfounded tone.

Chris ignored her, not really knowing why, but in a weird way he didn't care. Moonlight; however, continued to ponder other ways to find his identity. 'It's almost like he's a little colt again. He has to go through his own weird kind of childhood-- she thought, her voice trailing off as though there could be no other way, and try as she might to prove herself wrong, no other explanations or solutions presented themselves. With her last idea shot however, she was willing to try anything to help fix the situation.

She almost questioned her helping him. He was a stranger to her after all. And all this could just be a ruse in order for him to gain something of value from her. Still, she was driven to help the stallion. It was the bounds of society that drew them together, for she and all other ponies had been taught as fillies and colts to help another in need, for they couldn't know how much trouble one was really having until then. It was her nature, her lesson, and her lifestyle. She could almost hear her mother lectures of equal treatment and fairness in her simple statement drilled into the young mares mind as a filly, 'Treat others the way you want to be treated.' Such a simple statement taught to all fillies and colts and only now did she truly realize its importance in society and to the rest of pony-kind. Not to say she didn't know its purpose; it'd simply taken her this long to realize the magnitude of its importance; how heavily those words sat in her mind now. Driven by her early teachings, she truly wanted to help him find himself because she'd have expected the same were she in his position.

Moonlight took the additional time and silence to aid her efforts of thinking how to help. "I'll tell you what." she stated after some time, "I mean no offense, but after all that has transpired for you today, I think it may be best to visit a hospital and make sure you're ok. Would you be ok with that?" she asked. Chris absorbed her words and thought about the offer. All things considered, he still wasn't sure what to make of his perplexing quandry and didn't know what else to do. He decided, if it could be called a decision, to go along with her recommendation. "Don't worry," she added, "I'll go with you. I'm sure after everything you don't want to be alone. Just follow close behind me, ok?" Chris silently nodded and fell in line behind her, letting her lead him to possibly his only way of finding out who he was. He followed her, still confused yet almost content. He wasn't sure why, but he trusted Moonlight. Perhaps it was the way she spoke but he felt safer around her. They made their way to the closest hospital, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would find purpose.

***