Selfless

by Silent Whisper

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Drama, Spike, Twilight Sparkle, Cheerilee, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2859

Twilight has a choice to make. Will logic win the day?

Hope is fragile, fleeting, feathered
A feeble funny thing
It breaks apart at the slightest touch
On paper thin insect wings

Twilight Sparkle wakes up strapped to a table, with no memory of how she got there. How will she escape, and what's the most logical course of action?

Edited and preread by the amazing Troposphere and Scarlet Weather

Published 2017-10-31 03:10:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-10-31 03:10:06 UTC

Another Victory For Logic

I wake up coughing, lying on a cold table. I am alone, it seems. The white lights shine down on me. I tug my hooves, but they’re strapped down, spreading me on my back. I feel exposed, helpless, and terrified. I try to light up my horn to set me free, but the magic doesn’t activate.

Okay, breathe, Twilight. There’s always a way out if you’re willing to think hard enough about it. You just need to use logic to get your way out. Okay. What do you remember last?

Teatime at Fluttershy’s? That was weeks ago. I don’t know how I know this, but somehow I get the sense that time has passed. It’s a sort of sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I don’t remember anything from before then. Nothing unusual happened at that tea, I just sipped and listened to Fluttershy talk about her birds.

What else do I know? Well, somepony had to strap me down here. And that means somepony else is here, and knows I’m here! If they put me here, then they must be against me. I yank at the tethers with all my might, but they don’t give.

What will happen if they come back to me? I could probably lift my head enough to stab them with my horn, but it’s possible that they wouldn’t come close enough for me to reach them. I can barely move my other limbs, but I can sort of swish my tail. That doesn’t seem to be doing me much good, but it’s a comfort.

My neck aches from lying on the hard table. I crane my head to try to see what my surroundings are, hoping that somewhere, something will help me get out. A few inches from my muzzle is a scalpel. Maybe I can cut my restraints with that? I reach over, trying to pick it up in my mouth. Magic sure would be helpful now, but I can’t feel my horn.

I manage to wrap my lips around the handle. There, got it. Now, how can I cut the restraints? I suppose I could try to throw the scalpel at one of them, and hope that weakens it enough to break free. Or, wait, maybe I could use my wing to maneuver it! It’s pressed firmly against my back, but I bet if I shifted my weight, I could get it free.

I pull myself as much as I can to the left, the thick strap around my hoof biting into the flesh. There, one wing is out. I contract it as much as I can against the table and tuck the blade between two feathers, accidentally slicing the tip of one of the primaries off. How clumsy of me, it’s so hard to maneuver my wing when it feels half asleep. It stings slightly, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would. Oh well, feathers grow back. Hopefully.

My wing is starting to cramp up, and it’s harder than I expect to move the scalpel to the rough restraints around my right hoof. I swear I’ll have bruises after this, but it’ll be worth it to escape. If somepony wanted me tied down in here, I don’t know how long it’ll be until they return, and I’m certain they don’t mean me well.

I saw away as best as I can at the strap. It’s tough material, but the blade is sharp and the cloth starts to unravel and fray. I jerk my hoof up as hard as I can, and the material snaps. I grab the scalpel and get to work freeing my other limbs. That’s much better. I don’t know how long I’ve been tied here, but judging from the stiffness in my joints, it might have been days.

At least I can walk now. Another victory for logical and rational thinking!

Standing up has never felt so wonderful. I stretch, trying to rid myself of the aching in my joints. There’s a door near the head of the table. I couldn’t see it while lying down, but it must be how I got in here. Other than the table, the room is barren. I grab the scalpel in my teeth — I may need a weapon later, who knows what I’ll find — and turn the knob. Thankfully, the exit is unlocked.

The hallway I walk out to is as empty and featureless as the room I was trapped in. The walls are white tile, the lights are white, and the floor is a dull grey. The lighting isn’t very bright, but the walls reflect the light in such a way, it makes my eyes hurt and my head ache. I remember, my horn. I feel up towards it with a hoof, and it feels perfectly normal, but there’s no magic output. I need to find out what’s wrong with it, but first I need to make sure I’m safe.

There’s nopony as far as I can see, and the hallway is deathly quiet. It ends to the left a little ways away, and to the right it continues around a corner. I guess there’s only one way to go, then. I follow around the corner, ready to fight if somepony is waiting behind it to ambush me.

Nopony is there, and the hall is still and stagnant. There is one door in front of me, and that’s it. I press my ear against it, listening. There’s a sound, a tapping. It’s almost as though somepony is tapping on the floor, or at their desk. Whoever it is, I figure, it probably isn’t whoever has trapped me here. Hopefully. I step through the door cautiously anyway. It could be a trap, of course, which would make this whole thing pointless.

The room is pitch black. I turn to exit, but the door shuts too quickly behind me. The lights flicker on. Behind a pane of glass is Cheerilee. I remember her; we used to be friends. I wave, and she rushes over and presses against the glass. She looks exhausted and hungry, but I don’t see any food around. She tries to talk, but I can’t hear her voice through the thick pane of glass. The glass has dents in it, thin cracks from where she probably bucked it. It didn’t fracture the glass enough to break a hole into it, though, so it must have been painful.

Behind Cheerilee is a door. I turn around, and a second door greets me. I twist the handle hopefully. It’s locked. She shrugs at me from behind the thick glass. Her door must be locked too.

There is a table on my side of the glass, elegant and sturdy. On it is a glowing red button and a note. I don’t recognize the hoofwriting. The note says:

Dear Twilight,

Only one of you can leave. If you wait for an hour, your friend will be able to leave, and you will be trapped here forever. If you press this button, you can leave. You have no choice in how this button prevents your friend from leaving. Your only decision is to press it.

I stare at it. How did they know my name? And what will happen if I press the button? The note is worded oddly, as though something bad will happen if I press it. Clearly, I need to think this through. I have an hour, right?

I pace around the room. There’s not very much space, and when I try to shift the table, I find it’s bolted to the floor. Whoever trapped me here clearly doesn’t want me to break the glass. I saw how little damage Cheerilee's hooves did to the glass, and I’m sure that even together we aren’t going to be able to break the glass.

On one hoof, the note could not be bluffing. Cheerilee could be hurt in there, or somepony could jump out and attack her. If I stay here, and she leaves, I could be attacked. It could be backwards, too. What if by “leaving,” they mean that that pony will be killed, and the other pony will be trapped forever anyways?

Wait, wait, I think I’m overthinking this. The question isn’t whether or not I leave, it’s whether or not the pony who trapped me here thinks I’ll push the button. Are they counting on me to be curious and press the button, or do they think I’ll overthink it and rather not press it? Are they expecting me to act out of empathy, or do they assume I’ll only look after myself?

More importantly, will I be able to live with myself if I press it and it ends up hurting Cheerilee? On the other hoof, will I always wonder what would have happened if I don’t press it?

There’s no right choice, and Cheerilee's presence isn’t helping me decide. Does she know I have her fate in my hooves? Judging by her confused stare, I suppose not. Has she been trapped here as long as me? I hope for her sake that the answer is no.

I wish there was a clock in here to tell me how much time has passed. Is my time almost up? What if, by indecisiveness, I end up hurting both of us? Why should I even trust the note, at all? It could be lying, and I could refuse to decide. But that, in itself, is a decision, and a choice.

Or maybe I’m overthinking again. I look down, sheepishly realizing that I’m wearing a little path into the floor with my pacing. Oops.

Still, the question remains. Would it be braver to choose to press the button, or would it be braver to refuse to? I ask myself this as I pace in circles, watching Cheerilee watch me. I’ve already made my decision, at this point. I’ve got to know what happens. I’m pushing that button.

I’m almost relieved that I’ve acknowledged this. Besides, I’ve thought everything through, and I want to get out. And, more than anything, I want to know what will happen. Simple enough, really. It’s another victory for logic. I raise my hoof to press it, and stop.

I stare at the button, my hoof inches away from it and twitching. I really, really, really hope that nothing bad will happen. I press it, and it’s steady red glow goes out. I look up. Cheerilee looks fine. Ha! I called this room’s bluff! I can leave, right? I turn back to my door and jiggle the handle. It’s still locked, much to my dismay. Was there a second part to my instructions, or had the hour passed without my knowledge?

A quiet sound makes me turn around. Cheerilee is banging against the glass with a hoof, the other pressed to her throat. Is she alright? That was a dumb question, of course she isn’t. She looks like she’s choking, but I can’t hear a thing, only the slight tapping of her hoof on the glass. It must be really thick, if it’s muffled her voice. She looks like she’s crying.

Her hoof presses harder on her throat. She’s not choking, there’s nothing for her to choke on, so she must be suffocating! I slam my hooves on the glass, before wheeling around to buck at it. It doesn’t shatter like I hoped it would. It’s as sturdy as a wall. I wish I were Applejack; maybe an earth pony’s strength would be enough to let her out, and let some fresh air in.

Cheerilee has tear in her bloodshot eyes. Her hoof wobbles feebly against the glass in a weak gesture of understanding. She’s trying to say something, but I can’t hear her. I wish I could, the silence is unnerving. She sways, before toppling to the ground. I find myself crouching next to her trembling form, if only to comfort her. I didn’t know this would happen, this is horrible. Why aren’t I crying too? I’m watching my friend die.

It seems unreal, though. I blame the silence. If I heard a noise, a cry, a gasp, anything, it would be worse. It’s like watching a video with the sound muted. All I can hear is my own breath, and her occasional faint tap on the glass. Her hoof twitches a few time against the glass, and then goes limp. Her eyes are half closed. I can’t see her breathing, so I think she’s dead.

I think I’m in shock. That’s the only possible reason why I’m not freaking out right now. Cheerilee is my friend, and because I was curious, I killed her. Well, I didn’t kill her, but my curiosity did. Curiosity killed the Cheerilee. I almost laugh, then realize I shouldn’t be laughing. This is sad, so why do I find that hysterical?

I turn around to leave. The door is unlocked, the room it leads to is dark. I don’t care. I don’t care what I’ll find, so long as I don’t have to stare at my friend’s unmoving form on the floor, so long as I don’t have to think and wonder if it’s my fault. I step through the door frame, and the door closes behind me. The room lights up. In front of me is a table, and in a glass on the table is some hazy off-white liquid. A little note card is propped up next to it.

Drink me.

I don’t hesitate. I don’t care what it is, I just want everything to be done so I can stop thinking about it. The potion is bitter, but I manage to swallow it anyway. The room tilts under my hooves and everything goes black, but I don’t really care. Anything is better than this.

I lie on the ground, the room is still spinning and dark. The worst part of this, I realize as I spiral into unconsciousness, is that I would probably have made the same choice if I were faced with this situation again. I’m too curious not to press the button, no matter the consequence.

Spike helps me to my hooves. I’m a little unsteady, but my memory is returning, as expected. He passes me a clipboard, and I huff at the newest data point. It’s an improvement, but it still isn’t what I had hoped to see.

“Hey, Twilight, it’s not so bad. Look, you lasted over twenty minutes before giving in this time!” Spike tries to cheer me up with a little smile. It doesn’t help much, but I’m glad he’s stuck with me through this. I have to know. I have to know that I’m empathetic, and would do anything to help a fellow pony.

“Let’s reset and run this again, Spike.” My voice comes out a little hoarse, and I clear my throat before continuing. “This time, find somepony that I’m even closer to. Maybe that will make the difference.” I set down my clipboard and trot back over to the lab door. There aren’t many places a pony could hide a lab, but that notion takes into account that most ponies don't have an entire castle to hide things under. Besides, I’m the Princess of Friendship. Nopony would dare search my castle for a secret dungeon laboratory.

He gives a little laugh and follows. Oh, Spike, you really would do anything for me. I don’t know what I’d do without a friend like you.

Spike turns around as we near the testing chamber and frowns. “So, Twilight,” he begins. Oh, here we go again. “I just don’t understand why you have to go through with the punishment after you push the button. Shouldn’t the thought experiment be enough? I mean, why do you have to see them die?” He looks rather downcast.

“I wish I didn’t have to, I really do. But my actions must have consequences, otherwise we couldn’t trust the validity of the results.” I supply, trying not to scowl at him. “Nothing can get in the way of these results. These ponies deserve the most empathetic and selfless princess, and I need to know for certain that I’m the right pony for the job. I know it’s sad, but it’s for a good cause, so stop complaining.” I pat his back encouragingly.

“Sure, Twilight, I think… I think I do. Just one more test, right?” he adds hopefully, and I nod. Nopony is as loyal as he is, and he is the closest to me. In fact… he would make the perfect candidate! Maybe if this next pony fails, whoever they are. Oooh, Fluttershy would be perfect! She’s a really close friend, and I wouldn’t even need to cast a silencing spell on the glass!

I hope that this next test will prove how much I care about other ponies. I've been hoping the last test would show as much, but alas. There has to be a way to make it work, and I’d better find it soon.

I don’t know how many more I can take before somepony gets suspicious.