Project: Chrysalis

11. Queen of the Changelings

Chrysalis ran through the hall, far away from the ponies she had just escaped from. In her current form, she looked like a very tall and slender pony, easily twice the height of Celestia. Her legs however did not end in hooves, but rather sharp talons which scratched the metal floor with every step. Her mane and tail were still teal, filled with holes, but the mane was surrounded by several long tentacles that swooped back as she galloped. Jutting from her back were two transparent insect-like jagged wings, and between them was the iridescent carapace, reaching down to her haunches.

She had changed her head into a bestial shape; her teeth were numerous and pointed, and her muzzle was long and narrow. Above her green, reptile-like eyes was her characteristic gnarled horn, and behind that sprouted a crown-like arrangement of four antennae. Once they connected her own brain with those of the swarm. Now there were vestigial.

All in all the form was not too different from her base self, just blown up and exaggerated to appear threatening. Even so, she was still a monster; a carnivorous beast who took joy in the pain of others. Or so she appeared. She took no joy, no happiness from the dark deeds fate had compelled her to commit.

In an isolated room, far from the path the seven ponies would tread, Chrysalis reverted to the alicorn-type true shape. Her size shrank, and her features became more muted. Millions of cells shifted and changed, some being consumed and the matter rearranged within her body. As a result, she became denser, all the mass concentrated in a smaller body. Her transformation was completed in mere seconds, and the mucus secreted from glands in her skin solidified into a newer, more compact exoskeleton.

She now looked just like that small plush she saw only minutes before. She brought her hooves up to her face. Starring at them, she imagined the blood that stained her very bones. The doll reminded her of how far she had fallen; of what she had become. She cringed, shutting her eyes as tight as the pain in her chest.

She recalled the happier, simpler times that doll represented.

The earliest thing she could remember, deep in the recesses of her mind, was a dark, warm existence. That memory should never have remained, but it did. And throughout her life, it haunted her.

She could not explain it, but even with her senses weak and useless, she could still "feel" her surroundings. She knew she was in a small chamber...her tiny body hardly recognizable. Curled up and still, she did nothing; nothing but listen to a sound she heard below. A constant, soothing, calming, rhythmic beat. Thump...thump...pause. Thump...thump...pause.

Time was meaningless; her mind couldn't understand anything, perhaps because it wasn't there. The only thing she knew was the thumping. It could have been months or weeks or seconds or days...but in the end that calm time ended.

The last thing she could remember from this time was the touch of two objects...very cold. Later she could identify them as...metal. They clasped her undifferentiated form, and pulled her into a very cold...and dry environment. The thumping ceased, and then all was dark.

Again, after an unknown length of time, she sensed the world. But it was far different. An alien world, much bigger than the previous. Shapes wandered about, looking at glowing objects. In time she would watch them, and learn what they said and did. These shapes became...ponies...and around her was a glass container. Her body became more defined. A small bump emerged from the large half that steadily separated from the other half. The small outstretches grew longer, six of them in fact, as the number became known as. Long strings stuck onto various locations on her body.

She knew what was going on, but she could not move. As far as the ponies were concerned, she was...as they said "inactive." It was a word they used often to justify horrible actions.

Very thin metal rods were plunged in her soft tissues, causing agony to vibrate through her mind. A reaction to this event was well remembered:

"Stop! You're hurting it!" An orange pony said, with a much larger "bump" protruding from its head.

"Don't be so squeamish, Dr. You know it can't feel." Another pony talked, with the same kind of bump, only its color was grey.

"Look at the hormone levels! Obvious reactions to pain!"

"The injections are saturated with hormones. Of course the levels are going to rise!"

"Its neural activity is increasing! Identical to pain reactions!"

"No, it's a sign of brain development. It’s growing."

All opposition from the orange one was soon ended. The grey one threatened it often.

Unencumbered, the dark grey pony continued to abuse her. The nameless body in the tank was subjected to horrific tests and experimentation.

All types of metal objects were stabbed into her, sometimes cutting and drilling. "Injections" became daily, and she grew larger and larger. Several times she was transferred to a bigger tank. Her shape became similar to those outside; she was like a pony. But a horn and wings grew from her, unlike all the others, which seemed to have either one or none, never both. She was hairless, and her flesh was red, for her skin was still very thin. Dark shapes moved inside her, and her head grew fastest of all.

It was during this phase that the grey one, whom the tank creature had learned was called "Sableheart", committed his cruelest series of test.

All types of remote control devices were submerged in the tank. Whirling blades and scalpels sliced into the ossifying cartilage of her chest, splitting her ribs apart. Mechanical arms grabbed the edges and pulled in opposite directions, cracking the new bones from her spine. Needles took turns goring her organs, while the arms peeled away the skin of her legs, examining the vessels beneath. One instance, her very skull was pried opened, and the delicate organ inside probed.

Whatever "mind" she currently had wailed and screamed and yelped in pure, raw pain; the sort of pain seldom felt by anypony. Yet she still could not move.

The orange one, known as "Felthoof", finally objected, earning a severe beating by other ponies equipped with large metal tubes.

Sableheart merely uttered, "It will heal, as designed. No permanent damage. It is an investment, after all."

The final "test", if she could dare call it that, was her very skin cleaved from most of her body. Held back by numerous hooks, her muscles and sinews stood exposed. To prevent the tank suspension from becoming fouled up with blood, the fluid was circulated down through vents in the floor. The current stung her exposed nerves, already screaming at the fact they were separated from her dermis.

The last serum was injected, and her growth accelerated. Within days, secretions from her thickening skin hardened into a black shell. Hair grew from her head and backside, while two of her legs radically altered composition; their bones dissolved, and the limbs flattened so much as to become transparent. Her horn began twisting and growing much thicker than anypony else’s.

Then came the last step. The final moment when she could not move. A pulse was delivered, and she felt the consciousness she always had fuse with the brain of her body.

The tank drained and then lifted up. She sat on her haunches, officially "born." She opened those large green eyes for the first time and saw that dark grey stallion. Ire had not yet become known to the new being. Instead, she feared him. Any moment he would torture her again. She jumped back, somehow already knowing how to use her long dormant legs, and ran away.

She didn't get far, however. Under a desk, the large creature cowered, trembling at the Dr. she easily dwarfed. Felthoof approached the hiding pony-like thing, and held out a hoof. Then in the most soothing, gentle voice she would ever know, the Doctor address her:

"Shhh.....shhh.....It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you. It's safe." He smiled with all the sincerity of his heart.

Still shaking, for the first time her eyes began to shed tears as she began crying. She did not forget the concern this pony had shown for her. At first she backed up, skeptical of this gesture. But then, still weeping, she leapt towards the hoof of the orange unicorn.

Felthoof held her close, imagining she was just a little filly, despite him being much smaller than her. Stroking her wet mane, he whispered into her ear, "It's ok...daddy's here...I'll take of you."

At first, the creation was fated to reside in a cold, concrete room with little comfort or kindness. The good Dr., however, volunteered to offer his quarters as a substitute.

He said to her that her mind grew fast, and she would learn very quickly. Within several weeks she understood everything she needed to. She could speak and understand him, and would engage in mentally stimulating pursuits, like solving puzzles and riddles. He gave her the name "Chrysalis", after the project she was created for. In his care, Chrysalis felt a sense of "fullness". Never before had she felt so strong...so loved.

He would give her special shakes to drink, explaining she could not consume the food he ate. It didn't bother her much, and she never asked what the shakes were. It didn't matter. She was happy, and Felthoof was happy too. One night, Chrysalis sat in her bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The doctor came in, and read her a story.

She remembered the tale of two sisters who ruled over the land. Of course she knew now who those sisters were.

After he had finished, he got up and left the room, saying "Goodnight, Chrysy."

As he turned out the light, she replied, her head resting on a pillow, "Goodnight...papa."

It had only been a few months since her "birth" when Chrysalis was made to train. Felthoof told her that she needed to learn how to utilize the abilities she didn't know she had.

Through rigorous drilling and briefing, the black creature was informed she could alter her shape. Sableheart, the object of all her fear, personally directed her movements. Levitating a baton with his magic, he vicious ordered her to extend limbs and enlarge her body. When she could not perform to the doctor's definition of "satisfactory", he vehemently beat her with the baton. Her caretaker was powerless to stop the cruel pony, and she understood that well.

Days went on and soon she could transform, much to the disgust of everypony present. Her body would twist and contort, and the sound of bones shifting frightened many ponies, who pictured her like something from a horror film.

She had performed adequately, and Sableheart proceeded to the next phase: magical guises. She in time would master that too, but not before her instructor used an electric prod to "entice" her by shocking the unarmored, very sensitive tissue within the holes in her hooves.

She cried many times, but learned early on never to do it in front of the heartless stallion. Every night after her training, Felthoof would comfort her, trying to ease the pain this creature no doubt was always experiencing.

One such pain manifested when she realized her appearance, and outright nature frightened and was detested by others. Her strong sense of hearing picked up conversations she wasn't meant to hear; talks of the "ugly beast" running around the laboratory like it were some kind of pony. How she "talked" but was considered as smart as a parrot. A non-sapient pet of Felthoof.

Rejection reverberated throughout her body, stabbing her heart and emotionally sapping her mind. While the good doctor was on duty, she ran to a secluded spot and cried, sometimes for hours.

Amidst her time alone, she developed a solution.

Using her shape shifting abilities, Chrysalis created a persona in the likeness of a pony. She covered her wings in feathers and turned her "fur" white, and mane and tail pink. Her eyes became magenta, while her horn straightened out to appear normal.

At first, when Felthoof entered his room, he was shocked to see an alicorn mare.

"Wh...who are you?"

The mare smiled. "Silly daddy. It's me! Chrysalis!"

"Um...who are you copying?"

"Well nopony I suppose...I created this disguise...it felt right."

Felthoof smiled back. "Why are you even in disguise? You know you don't have to be."

Chrysalis looked down, shedding her magical veil. "I...I know...but...everypony thinks," She began to sniffle. "I...I...I'm not like them. I'm a freak. I was trying to look normal..."

The Doctor slowly walked over to the tall creature. "You're not a freak. You're one of a kind."

"I'm just what came from a test tube..." She fell down onto her stomach, curling up beside a couch.

"Hm...I know what'll make you feel better."

A few hours later, Felthoof emerged with something on his back. He called out to Chrysalis.

"I made something for you."

She got up, wiping the tears from her face. "What is it?"

He levitated a small black doll from his back. The doll was her exact likeness, except small. It looked like with was smiling, and was soft to the touch. He gave it to Chrysalis, who took over the levitation.

"I made this so now you're not one of a kind. She's just like you. Now you...you won't feel alone, because she’ll always be there."

At first sight, the large child fell in love with the plush. She grabbed the doctor and squeezed him, forgetting how strong she was. Felthoof didn't care, and smiled.

"Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome."

She set him down and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

From that moment on, Chrysalis and the doll were inseparable. Every night she cuddled with it. She would play with it as if it were alive. She'd talk to it, and tell it her deepest secrets. Physically and mentally she was far superior to anypony, being much stronger and more intelligent. But emotionally, she was just a young filly.

Then one day the doctor, on his day off, proposed to her that they go outside. Chrysalis had been only once before, and immediately grew excited. It was winter, and snow covered the empty plains. Felthoof knitted her a scarf and acquire some boots for his ward.

Rushing outside, her doll suspended beside her, she gazed in wonder at the winter scene. She soon discovered how enjoyable snow could be, rolling around, building snow forts, building a snowpony. Dr. Felthoof suggested they play a game. Chrysalis' face became ecstatic.

He picked up some snow, molded it into a ball, and spoke to the Chrysy.

"Now you make a ball with snow, obviously, and throw it at the other pony. Don't throw too hard. It's supposed to be a game."

"Ok!" Immediately she formed several snowballs, and in quick succession launched them at Felthoof. After the volley ended, his face was covered in snow. Wiping it off revealed a large red mark. Chrysalis giggled and then playfully dove into the snow bank to avoid the doctor's throws. The day became night, and they went back inside to drink some hot tea and enjoy each other's company.

A few days later, Chrysalis was walking around the complex. Wandering into a large room with tanks and computer monitors, she decided she might as well investigate, to see if there was anything interesting. She knew how to operate a terminal by using Felthoof's personal computer in his living room, and she accessed one in the center of the room.

On the screen were files of data sheets and letters. She knew how to read, and looked at each one carefully. One especially caught her attention. Marked "PC-16", the file talked about her...what she was...why she was created...and an even more horrifying truth. She could not believe what she had just read.

Quickly closing the console, she raced over to find Felthoof. She had several questions, but alas they would never be asked.

When Chrysalis found the doctor, he was being confronted by several armed guards as well as Sableheart. The guards stopped her from going any closer.

A stern look was on Sableheart's face, and a contemptuous one on Felthoof's

"We have our directive. They've chosen to abandon the project, and ordered the disposal of the subject."

"She stays with me. We will disregard her original purpose, but please allow her to live." Felthoof's expression turned to a pleading one.

"You've grown too attached to it. It must be destroyed."

"She has a name."

"It's right here. The disposal shouldn't take more than a few seconds." Chrysalis' eyes widened. They were going to...kill her?

"SHE HAS A NAME!!" Felthoof yelled, lashing out at Sableheart. With lightning quick reflexes the bad doctor shot the creature's caretaker, who fell to the ground dead.

Chrysalis cried out, shrieking at the death of her only friend...companion...father. Brushing away the two guards, she began to see red, and for the first time, anger dictated her actions. Morphing her leg into a long claw, she impaled Sableheart straight through chest.

When the rage subsided, she starred in disbelief at what she had done. The two guards got up and were about to shoot. Chrysalis grabbed the two bodies of the dead ponies and ran off.

Out the door she went, into the freezing cold outside.

Everypony assumed she'd die of exposure, and didn't pursue. Chrysalis might well have succumbed, had she not fed.

Dr. Felthoof told her the food she was given was meat: the flesh of animals. He firmly taught her never to consume a pony. Now, alone in the blistering cold, she could not help herself.

She hated Sableheart, and beat his dead body, now lying in the snow, as he had once beaten her. Rage enveloped her as Chrysalis pounded her hooves repeatedly into the corpse. Then, in a final act of desecration, she tore his flesh off with her fangs, savoring the sweet revenge. When all was done, and the bones picked clean, sadness overtook her.

Felthoof was now dead, and in a moment of weakness, Chrysalis betrayed his memory by devouring a pony. Howling at the rising moon, she cut and harmed herself, mourning over the body of the good doctor. Around midnight, as she remembered it, she dug a pit and placed his body inside. Covering it back up, she wandered away, wanted to forget everything. Maybe she would wake up and have it all be just a bad dream.

That moment never came, and she eventually came to a snow-covered volcanic crater. She would live here now, far from anypony. Hopefully soon her existence would fade from memory.

In time, she built a large structure out of saliva and mucus. She was an animal, and hunted the packs of wolves and deer in the wilderness. Dragging the carcasses back to her "home", she'd feast and then lament their deaths. Never again would she know happiness.

But she almost did.

Perhaps as a manifestation of her loneliness, or some other method entirely, she felt a presence in her abdomen. She was hungrier and needed more food with each meal. She had bouts of bipolarity, increasing her already crazed condition. A few months later, she painfully produced a small creature. Chrysalis had given birth.

It was very small, no taller than her knee. Its eyes were blue and mane and tail black instead of teal. It was certainly different than her, but maybe it would grow up to be similar.

Elated, Chrysalis thought she could earn a new friend. Her "child" followed her everywhere, and she felt a special connection with it. Everything it saw, she could see. Everything it felt, she could feel. Its thoughts were her thoughts.

Once it learned to eat, fly, and walk properly, she took it outside in the snow. Hoping to recreate the bliss of a snowball fight, she levitated some snow, as Felthoof had before, and formed a ball. Her child could use magic, and she concluded it would be able to play.

"There. Now you try!" Her smile reached from ear to ear, excitement drowning all her problems.

Unfortunately, the small creature just looked straight at its mother, unmoving. The only motion it did was an occasional blink.

"Come on. Pick up some snow." Again, it did nothing. "Here let me help you." She levitated a pile snow to the creature. "Now try to make it into a ball."

She stopped using her magic, hoping her child would take over. Instead, the pile fell to the ground.

"Come on...make a ball." She tried it again. Nothing.

"Make...make a ball..." It slightly turned its head, blankly staring.

"Please..." Chrysalis began to cry. "Make...a ball...please...I...I just want to play..." The creature paid no attention.

It was then she realized what was happening. Her offspring was mindless. Whatever thoughts she felt it had were only her own. It was all a reflation of her own mind. She was truly alone. Falling to her haunches, she stewed in her sorrow for hours, while her child stood there, indifferent and unresponsive.

Several more months later, more "changelings" as Chrysalis called them were born. By the end of summer dozens populated the large hive. Though they had no soul of their own, they would do their "queen's" biding. Hunting and building, Chrysalis' children were ever busy, always forging a stronger hive.

But the end of summer brought the first of many attacks.

One morning, Chrysalis woke up and ventured outside to look at the edge of the crater she lived in. Many shapes dotted the perimeter. She ran up towards them, psychically calling her minions to accompany. The shapes soon became ponies as she got closer, and one raised a hoof then swung it down. The meaning of the gesture made itself immediately clear.

Large metal carriages carried long metal tubes, similar to the kind the guards had. They exploded, sending streams of fire down on the swarm. The shells burst, sending changelings flying across the field. Chrysalis felt each and every one of them die, their pain becoming her own. She could feel the searing of flesh, the shattering of bones, the force of a thousand metal shards embedding themselves into a body. Bits of her beloved children littered the ground, some of them still alive. More shots went off, some from ponies themselves. Chrysalis gave the order, and the swarm charged. Dozens perished, and by the end of the day hundreds of pieces of changelings were scattered across the land. A horrible, bloody mess wrenched the queen's heart.

All the ponies were dead, and drug back to the hive. Their weapons were buried so the terrible incident could be forgotten. Chrysalis hoped nopony would ever come again, but prepared for another attack.

Soon, the swarm grew to a stable size of a few thousand. And no attacks occurred. For the rest of the year. But next year, around the same time, another attack came. This time, the queen transformed into a horrible beast, slaughtering hundreds of pony soldiers. Even so, hundreds of her children perished. Every night she crawled to the top of her hive and bellowed at the moon.

The attacks became annual, persisting for nineteen years. The final time, however, was different. The massacre claimed no less than a thousand changelings. One pony survived, and was brought to Chrysalis. She leaned towards him, and withholding all her anger, addressed him.

"Why have you come here and slaughtered us? What have we done to deserve it?"

He looked her straight in the eye and smugly smiled. Spitting in her face he replied. "We were ordered to exterminate all you monsters. And we'll come again. And again. Until your head is mounted over a fireplace."

Wiping the saliva off her snout, she said. "Please leave us be. We mean no harm." Her eyes were pleading with the arrogant colt. "I will let you go free."

"I'll never make a deal with a monster." He turned and bucked a changeling into a wall of the hive. It gasped for breath, its windpipe crushed by the stallion's hoof. Chrysalis walked over and held up her child. She felt it suffocate and die. Hugging the creature that could never love her back, something finally snapped. Diplomacy would not work.

The changelings would have to fight back.

Facing the pony, she didn't speak, but simply transformed into a hideous creature, opened her multi-mandibled jaws, and lashed out a barbed tongue. She drugged the terrified stallion into her ring of teeth and devoured him with extreme prejudice.

Bellowing triumphantly, Chrysalis began plans to invade Canterlot. Soon all of Equestria would pay for it transgressions; for all the lives lost.

Chrysalis, still sitting in the secluded room, remembered what came next. Her invasion was repelled, and she was thrown back north, forced to return to her home. That was several weeks ago.

Shortly afterwards, she discovered her degenerative state. Driven insane by her failure and looming death, the queen of the Changelings watched her swarm die, one by one. It was then she vowed to exact her revenge before she finally faded away.

The plan she developed was brilliant. All she needed was to revisit a place the mere thought of pained her heart: Lab 28

And now, seeing that doll after all those years, Chrysalis cried like she did as a young filly. But her final plan needed to be completed. The fire in her eyes burned for justice. Her body was already cracking and shedding, strands of flesh trailing from the holes in her hooves. The time for action was now. The final move was about to be made.

Before she left the stage, and the curtains fell, Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings would exact her price from the one who started it all.