Tears were streaking down the mare's face. I hadn't seen anypony that distraught before. Even by her over-reactive standards, Roseluck was hysterical. She tried to warn me, oh she did.
"His body's in the Everfree" she said,
"He came back home, but he wasn't HIM" she said...
I knew I couldn't do nothing. She wanted me to run with her, wanted the whole town evacuated. But I knew the mare to faint at the sight of stampeding bunnies.
Though I should've went to the Everfree first, Silver Drop's house was on the way. I figured, screw it. I heard that he wasn't himself, it was worthwhile to check.
Roseluck told me she saw him bleeding from the belly. Or that she thought she had seen it. If he hadn't been ushered to the hospital yet, I guess that would've fallen on me. I wish it was that simple.
I wish it was that simple.
The hay-roofed building looked about as chipper and cheery as any other house along the street. Ponies trotted past it as if it belonged there. They still do. The first sign something was wrong was the blood on the stairs. It mixed in with the bright pink door, something greener ponies would have missed. But the discoloration wasn't intense. The bushes and trees strewn alongside it seemed well-maintained.
The wound had to be fresh. Intuition told me that knocking politely and waiting wasn't the play here; a body could be waiting for me. I turned on my lantern, illuminating the inside, darkness snuffed the sunset that peeked out over my shoulders. The smell was foul, even from that far away. It stung my nose like acid, I remember wincing and stumbling backwards.
Living room was as to be expected. Hardwood floor, carpet laid out under the table. The glass of juice on the counter refracted the lantern's light, leaving a ghost of it's shadow dancing along the wall, the slight glare shooting off to the beige wallpaper. I inspected closer.
The drink was fresh. Cold, even without me directly touching it; hovering my hoof to the edge was enough. Ice cubes floated around the orange-pink fluid. Mostly melted, but you could still barely see the vapor of cold mist float off. I only did so for a moment.
The cup interested me less than the stain. That little splash of blood had trailed along, up to the couch, and slightly pooled. But why would your first instinct be to have a drink? Dehydrated? Delirious perhaps? I followed the blood through the kitchen, black and white tiles under my hooves, the smell of a distant meal now distorted under that awful stench.
A first-aid kit laid open on the counter, next to the oven. Rolls of bandages sat inside. One, torn incorrectly, on a rigid angle, stretching it out near the end. Torn off in desperation, it seems. When it comes to medical attention; I figured at least it's a start. But even surviving a cut to the stomach, infections, that's what gets ponies.
That wasn't the only thing on my mind though. If there really was a body in the Everfree, whoever was here had to know what happened, or be the one responsible. I had to move quickly.
Shifting along the trail, which thinned to just a whisper, I was lead to a door, hung open, peering into the basement. At this point, perhaps my hesitance to believe the mare had clung onto me. Perhaps it was the intensity of the scent. Perhaps it was knowing I was about to stumble across either a very lucky pony who should not be alive, or an everyday one which was not.
Whatever it was, it made my eyes water. Made stepping down each creaking wooden stair, into the claustrophobic cobblestone room, feel like carrying a bag of rocks up a ladder. My legs shook, my heart, it threatened to rip out of my chest. I was moving on instinct, forcing myself forward to help somepony who could be in danger.
The danger was waiting for me.
Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, and turned the corner, I had a little time to search with the lantern. I remember calling out his name, and getting no reply. The messy boxes, labeled and stuffed with furniture. It looked as though they had moved in, maybe out.
The dust was heavy. Can't imagine that the room was used all that much, which raises questions as to why the boxes were so packed. Photos of family members, half-stuffed in with lamps and vases. It felt a bit like a hoarder's house, lived in though somehow abandoned.
Other ponies might have flinched. Gasped, cried, ran away screaming. I just stared, blankly. I knew any other reaction should have been mine, but somehow the privilege of emotion in that moment had been robbed from me.
Lime green slime had coated the floor and wall, spun around into a cocoon of some kind. The top had been blasted open, as if clawed at by some horrific beast, leaving spurts of it strewn across the wall. Though parts of it were colored like dried and bloodied snot, turning yellow and then red in spots like scabs.
A body lied within the absolute mess, as if once wrapped in it. A changeling, no doubt from the black chitin with holes like swiss that built the hind legs. The torso had an unwanted hole of it's own, now wrapped in half-hazard bandage, soaked in crimson. But what truly haunted me about it, was the top half, stuck partway in a transformation.
One part of their head looked as if to be a tumor-riddled Roseluck, with face swollen and puffed as if stung by bees; waiting to be popped and leak out puss. The jaw, hanging off-kilter, and patchwork connected to the left cheek, looked to match the description of Silver Drop; grey, chiseled, and now eerily still.
The throat, slashed open, leaving the insides of this poor bastard hung out, rotated far as an owl's neck, and yet the transformed flesh knit tightly into the exoskeleton. It was warm, faintly dripping that similar orange-pink liquid along the injured belly, and onto the floor.
One wing seemed untouched. The other, curled back, feathers stabbing into the thin membrane like a pincushion, tearing at the seams. It had gotten caught in the cocoon, once meant to protect them, and now, their unintended coffin.
My eyes rapidly flashed about for what, if anything, could have caused this. Every hair on my body stood, and I admit; I began to think back on my life, and wonder why it had to led to here; led to now.
Those frantic glances were greeted by an oak table, brought out of one of the boxes. It sat just out of the splash zone, though the chair was not so lucky. Closing my distance, with my stomach sinking, I saw it. A page, clean and untouched from the mess, yet looking weathered as ancient scripture.
Ink sat next to the page, a quill knocked over. It dribbled off the right hand side. It was either fortune, or misfortune, that the spillage did not hit that page. Top left on this little oak stand, a candle, with wax melted and wick thinned to a nub. I figured, at least, that a note was left behind. By the changeling? The killer? By somepony else? I had to look. I shouldn't have looked.
It was a poem. In the half second my eyes glanced over it, that fight or flight reflex began to scream, thrash at the muscle under my skin to run, to get away. I didn't. Instead, calmly, I approached the paper, stepping past the mess that had been made of a changeling to do so.
I brought my lantern closer to read. I had to look. I had to know.
That wasn't the worst part.
The Horses Maw
TheI leaves theyk crunchedn undere myw hoof
Walls ofy buto bark,u and leavesw thee roof
Ir sawe the skyl righto then,s andt gone
Behind. me wasI thet crack ofh dawn
Roses heart would have been broken if she knew I wasn't happy. I needed to find myself.
Itu wasr nott long,, the forestk groaned
Thosen seedso ofw fatei hadn longg been sown
Deary Silvero Drop,u I entered,w goal
Toe leaver withoute myn living's' toll
I want my skin back.
.tsaef em teL .rewop ym deen uoY .oga gnol daeh ym dereves evah dluoc uoY .sseltliug tca ton oD .em edam lla uoY .tluaf ym ton si taht ,regnuh I
Butt now Ih stand,a inp thisp smally town
Our. muscles hideB inu flesh-knitt gown
They hadn'tw seenh it'se gapingn maw
The words,h theye sink, toc whata Im saw
We both saw it. We both feared it. But you killed me.
Backe to myb home,a unsafec inside
Thoughk I, may waitI they knowk In hide
Mye fleshw must burn,i It want itw off
Thea lungs,s theyn ache,' It hack andy cough
You looked like me, at first. I should've known better. I should've stabbed again.
Io willu now. live, II will notf lie
I'llo eat,u andn sleep,d and work,y ando die
andu rotr and wormb ando smiled andy wave
My fatei shouldn not bet yoursh toe pave
Don't act merciful.
Your crimes are unforgivable. But that does not matter right now.
RUN. RUN!
Now whenE Iv sleep,e myr teethf fallr out
Withe bloodiede gums,, I screamk andn shout
Ie mayw be here,i throught aches andw pains
Mya body,s inn that' woodt remains
And I will haunt you until the end of time, I swear it.
To says Ia diedf thate day's untrue
Thoseb glassya eyesc growk morning's dew
Theh marko searedm on,e from. birth itM calls
Mya fatey wasb sealed,e the fleshedt falls
I'm a coward. She deserved better than me. Better than you.
It'sh onlye right, that'sm whata Iw said
Vomit andh blooda wheres once mys head
Itw atea myl ribs,l rendo fleshw mye back
I'lld always feelu wheres torn Iw lack
Your violence was pointless. We could have killed it together.
Roseluck thought you were me for a moment. I want to kill you for what you did. She could have helped us.
Ih sawo herl face.e The. joy, despair
IB swearu tot you, II want tol care
Thougho Iv ame you, shey couldo tellu true
She sawd mya corpse,m alreadym knew
I hate you.
I'm sorry. You were right Silver Drop.
When I am cast to Tartarus, I hope you may forgive me.
But we are already there, aren't we?
Iti won'tt be. long untilI I'm caught
Lieg ofo thet law, lety ito beu brought
The hungers willu notn everf stop
Il sparedo ofw you,e thisr lifes dear, Drop
Life IS worth living. I was misled by a moment of weakness. You're being misled too.
run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run
I mayS yeti givel herv whate your got
She. shares theT burdenh ofe the rot
I'vel spuni myselft at newl cocoon
Thee maw willt feasth uponi men soon
Please don't kill her. Please don't kill her. Please don't kill her.
FEED ME
Theg guards,s will come,m tooa strongk fore I
I mayl killi few,f bute none willw die
Thoseo coltsr aret dead,h I won'tl condemn
Thei Horsesv Mawi hadn feastg on. them
I saw it move.
