Cry of Silence

Ghastly awoke a few hours later with a start, collapsed on the rough floor... The faint sunlight peered out from the curtains on the window behind him...

Blinking away sleep, Ghastly lifted his head up from the ground, what happened..? He seemed to still be in the hallway... His head pounded slightly, how long had he been out..? He felt a slight twinge of pressure on his body, he turned his gaze down to attempt at seeking out the source of the strange feeling invading his mind, that was when he noticed...

The large deep wounds coating his chewed and ripped flesh, Ghastly recoiled at the sight of himself, his right foreleg was massacred by deep scratching and biting of the flesh, leaving very little flesh at all, patches of his dark coal coat, which was now a tint of dried crimson, was missing, the rest of his emaciated body was covered in similar wounds, all self-inflicted it seemed. He was accustomed to his own self destruction, never the less, it never ceased to surprise him how far he would go in episodes of mania... He was surprised how little it hurt, he expected more of a burning sensation, like all the other times, but his body just felt.. Numb? Perhaps he was growing a tolerance to the pain after all this time.

He craned his neck to look back at himself, his black tattered coat draped over his malnourished body like a blanket, it covered his exposed bones poking out from within his flesh, where very little meat lied in between, his gaze turned to look towards his flank, where a cutie mark would typically etch itself, however instead of a symbol of talent, there was a large gash where flesh would be, ripped and torn from it's place and peeled roughly off by sharpened teeth and clenched jaws. One side was worse off than the other, there were very small colorations on the remaning skin that indicated remnants of his cutie mark, still clinging on to the bits of unteared flesh, now stained with his own blood...

Ghastly sighed, it was a sound that echoed throughout the hall, he glanced up toward the hallway he laid in, the pictures no longer held the same threat they did the night prior, a soft huff escaped his mouth, perhaps it was just his mind tormenting him after all... However, he made a mental note to remove the paintings eventually. Now it was to a matter of dealing with his new wounds... He hoped they hadn't sat untreated for too long, he couldn't risk another infection like the last few times, which resulted in awkward time spent at Ponyville's only hospital.

He propped himself up with his front hooves, starting on the one the least damaged, he expected a sharp pain immediately, but instead only numbness followed, as it had before, he was confused... But persisted without much of an issue. Ghastly stood up with a shaky start, he balanced himself, resting a hoof on the wall next to him for support, once the dizzyness from standing up disapated, he began to walk down the hallway, attempting to recall where exactly he kept the medical supplies... Had it been in the bathroom? He'd try there first.

His hoof grazed across the wall, feeling every ridge and edge of the old wooden structure. He reached the end of the hallway, where a door to the side lead to where he could only presume was the bathroom. He lowered his hoof down and trotted towards the door, the day time wasn't as frightening than nightfall had been, however, he still loathed the sunlight, no matter how much he'd barricade the windows with anything he can think of, the light always seemed to shine through regardless, perhaps a testament to Celestia's persistence. He gently pushed the door open and peered inside, it was dark, he recalled a few candles he had around the house, although he wouldn't bother finding one now. He took a deep breath and attempted at lighting his horn, it was stubborn, but with a faint spark of magic sputtering out of his horn, light quickly followed in pursuit and illuminated the small room in front of him. He was pleasantly surprised his horn still worked after the strain, perhaps he had rested longer than anticipated...

He stepped into the bathroom, his hooves clacking against the dirty tile floors, he wanted to try his hoof at a basic floating spell... But decided against it, he wouldn't want to bring any more strain on his horn, lest it burn out again. He propped his forehooves on the barren counter, the mirror was covered with a white dusty sheet over it, the mirror itself was dirty and shattered, he knew that much from the glimpses beyond where the sheet reached, and the broken shards rested on the counter and surrounding floor, he made a note not to accidentally step on any broken pieces. He opened the mirror that doubled as a cabinet, being gentle as to not tug the sheet off, as he suspected before, the medical supplies he was looking for were there... But there was very little left, the remaning roll of bandages was nearly gone, and the bottle of disinfectant was near empty now. He estimated it should be enough for right now, but he feared he would have to go out for more supplies... Lest he be left with nothing to clean future wounds.

He took the bottle of disinfectant within his jaws and set it down on a cleaner part of the counter top, he then repeated the process with the bandages. He had gotten used to doing everything with his mouth and hooves, despite having a horn and being fully capable of weilding magic, at least to an extent, he habitually forgot of his gift, to put it simply. He took the bottle of the clear, cool liquid, and unscrewed the lid with a click, it took some time to get it off, but once he did, he began pouring the alcohol steadily onto his wounds, he figured that this would surely sting, but much to his surprise, and slight curiosity, it didn't. Much like the last few times, he had anticipated pain to rush through, however instead it didn't hurt, it didn't feel like much of anything at all, it was just as numb as when he awoke, the only sensation he felt was the occasional pounding of his head.

" How strange... " He thought to himself, he didn't want to think much of it, but now that it had become too pressing of an issue to avoid, it seems as though he had to. Ghastly placed the bottle down onto the counter once he finished pouring it down on his wounds, it toppled over due to the lack of weight of being full holding it steady, he flinched at the sound it made when onto the tile floor, but that wasn't of great importance now... Merely another reminder that he needed to go out and get more. He began to very carefully wrap his wounds individually with as much bandages as there were left on the roll, after he was finished, he prodded at his wounds, starting with the one in the worst conditions; the gash on his flank, which had now been securely wrapped.

He poked at it with a hoof, expecting some sort of sensation... But... He yet again felt nothing, it was as if his hoof never made contact, he confirmed his suspicions with the rest of his wounds... How could this be? How could he not be hurting right now? Tolerance or not, he would be able to feel something, what was going on? He wasn't paralyzed, that was for certain, or else he wouldn't have been able to get up at all, so what exactly was happening? A twinge of concern slipped into Ghastly's mind, what if his wounds were more severe than he thought? Had he damaged something important? He gingerly bit down on his lower lip, glancing down at the empty bottle and non-existent roll of bandages on the floor...

" Shit... I'll have to go out and get some more. " He muttered to himself, the sound of his voice was hoarse, like chalk scraping against rough cement, he loathed the idea of having to go outside, especially in his condition, he knew ponies in town would be either disgusted, concerned, or both. None the less, he'd have to go out sometime soon, and unfortunately there would be no shops in town open at such an ungodly hour at the night, when he would prefer to be out. Therefore, it seemed clear to him he didn't have a choice, it was undoubtably obvious...

He'd have to go outside today...