The Village

There are two remaining readable pages among those that were torn out

“It's over. At last I have taken the sickness, and there is not a healthy pony left among us. If we were now to flee, if we even could, we would only spread this blight to all of ponykind. And so we who yet live have gathered together in the heart of the town. It is wryly fitting that our resting place be a giant oak tree, as we shall be a forest of tree-shaped graves within it, and the greater tree shall be our mausoleum. Leif is gone now, yet I may take comfort for that the path of his sickness did not fearsomely twist his body, but left his face and beauty intact through the end, and I may look on it as I fade away.”

‘What would Rainbow Dash do?’ These were the words on Fluttershy’s mind as she galloped towards the horde. She turned sharply as she neared the first of her pursuers. Fluttershy wasn’t particularly fast, but these mangled and contorted horrors seemed incapable of rational thinking, which gave her enough of an edge to outmaneuver them. Using broken houses and trees as cover when she could, she ran in a wide circle around the village, and then back onto the central path.

She looked over her shoulder to see most of the creatures behind her. Despite already being out of breath, she was determined to press on. She waved her lantern high, catching as much of the horde’s attention as she could, and with only a few seconds rest, she again began to gallop deeper into the heart of the decrepit village.

She ran past more and more ponies before reaching the Village Center, the horde behind her growing larger with each one she evaded. That was good; she thought she got most of them to chase her. They hobbled towards her, each moaning out a unique gurgled mess of words and syllables, each resembling a fragment of the long-broken mind of the pony that once was.

“I'm comforting the little filly that lived across from us. She is such a sweet foal. It pains me to lie to her, but I have no heart to tell her of her fate. My mind turns to my own belly as I speak with her. In any other circumstances I would be overjoyed at the life I bear, but I grieve early, knowing I will never know if they were to be a colt or a filly. I write now to distract myself from the swiftly coming end. I am afraid. If anypony sees this, I pray, finish what I began. I was so near to a cure, if only I had more ti—”

The writing on the page cuts off abruptly

Fluttershy ran into the small horde within the large central tree. Already she was pushing her body to its limit—she wasn’t an athlete, but she persevered. Hopping up on what appeared to be a large podium at the wall opposite the entrance, she looked over the large gathering of half-cured ponies, and one in particular caught her eye.

The pony’s midsection was still covered in bark, and it still bulged out much more than normal. It seemed that a smaller tree had crudely burst from the side of its belly, and dragged along the ground, leaving a bloody trail as its host shambled on.

Fluttershy covered her mouth with her hooves in a gasp as she saw it. The glazed over eyes were as soulless as the rest of the horde, making her next actions the slightest bit easier. But, still, it was enough to make her falter.

“Ginger... I’m sorry...”, she whispered, holding back tears. She couldn’t buckle yet, no matter how much her aching body screamed at her to stop and her sorrowful mind sought to break the dam that prevented her from breaking down into sobs. She pulled out the large oil vial she packed, and tossed it into the crowd. The glass shattered, and oil covered the wooden ponies and dried leaves beneath. Taking a few steps back, and, with the lit lantern hanging from her mouth, she took a running leap over the horde. She spread her wings, fighting her best against the pain in her right wing.

Finally, she dropped the lantern. Breaking open with a loud ‘clang’, the oil-filled lantern erupted over the highly flammable creatures, causing a wave of combustion to wash over the suffering crowd. Fluttershy felt the sharp pain in her wing worsen, then a painful crack shot down it into her back, all before she came roughly crashing down on the other side of the ablaze horde. Fire licked against her as she scrambled to her hooves, prompting her to run. She couldn't even wait a moment to catch her breath.

Nausea churned in her guts from a mix of exhaustion, fever, and pain in her broken wing. The dead tree behind her went up like a massive torch, and she could feel the heat long after she escaped its radius. Unsure of where she was even going, just knowing she needed to get anywhere but where she currently was as quickly as possible, she galloped on, her aching body pushed far past its normal limits. Tears streaked down her face, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”, she sobbed to herself over and over, lamenting what she had done, even if it was for the greater good. A sudden pain shot through her as she collided full speed with something vaguely pony shaped. And it all went black.