Trailside Banquet

Present Day - The Zone. Ponyville, Equestria

The campfire crackles softly, casting a faint glow against the inky blackness that is the Zone’s night. The burnt out trees surround the pink mare, their branches frozen in place - holding their breath. Pinkie Pie tends to the fire with some more wood before reaching into her saddlebag, past a few trinkets she found, to pull out a familiar friend: her trusted guitar, slightly out of tune since its last use.

She takes a deep breath, and sits herself by a log before strumming the chords. The melancholic melody rings out into the empty night - soft and soothing like a foal’s lullaby, but deep and hollow, like a hymn in an abandoned church. Besides the music, it’s quiet in the Zone. Too quiet, thought Pinkie. The kind of quiet that pierces one’s bones, like a winter’s night. Pinkie strums on, trying to lose herself in the notes, trying to push away the gnawing memories creeping at the edges of her mind.

Then, from across the fire, she hears a voice - so gentle, so familiar. Pinkie stops playing, her heart skipping several beats. It can’t be…

“That’s a beautiful song, Pinkie…” spoke the mare, as yellow as a pale sun.

Fluttershy.

Pinkie’s eyes snap instinctively toward the source of the voice. The three butterflies on her flank were illuminated by the fire, her mane a vibrant peachy pink. It was her, feathered wings and all, sitting by the campfire. She’s watching Pinkie with soft eyes and a smile that harbors peace.

Her breath catches in her throat. For a moment, Pinkie just stares, her mind struggling to comprehend the impossible sight of her friend - the Element of Kindness - sitting across from her. Like a pale, yellow moth to a greenish flame.

She finally speaks, her voice trembling, “Fluttershy? Is…is that really you?”

The mare nods, her smile widening just a little. There’s something off about that smile - something a bit too fixed, too perfect. But Pinkie doesn’t want to see it. She wants to believe it is truly her friend, if but for a moment.

“Of course, Pinkie.” spoke the mare in her buttery soft voice, like a mother bird calling to her children. “It’s me. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Pinkie’s heart swells, and a tear slips down her cheek. She sets the guitar down gently beside her and gets to her hooves. The fire crackles louder now, throwing sparks randomly into the dark aether. The warmth of the fire seemed to fade away as Pinkie approached Fluttershy.

Fluttershy stands as well, stepping closer to Pinkie. The air between them feels heavy, like wading through water. Something isn’t right, Pinkie’s mind began to scream, she shouldn’t be here! But Pinkie continued to push away that voice, her desire for friendship overpowering any sort of logic.

Pinkie speaks, her voice choked with emotion, as if she’s ready to collapse into tears, “I-I thought…I thought I lost you. Like--”

A yellow hoof touches her lips, softly silencing them. “I know…I was never really gone, Pinkie. I just changed…”

Pinkie looked at Fluttershy’s hoof as they touched her lips, then looked back up at her friend. She could see it more clearly now in the light of the fire - the wrongness. Her coat is duller, her mane thinner, almost wispy. Her eyes shined too brightly in the darkness. They were glass marbles reflecting the firelight. Still, Pinkie forces a smile, clinging to the hope that this is indeed her friend.

“What do you mean, Flutters…?” asked the pink pony.

The yellow mare’s smile widened further, almost too wide for her face. The hoof that was once on Pinkie’s lips caressed her cheek. The touch is cold - far too cold for any living creature. Pinkie flinches at the icy touch, but doesn’t pull away. Her heart pounds in her chest, her mind begs her to run. The world around her begins to blur - whether by the forming tears in her eyes or the fog of the Zone, Pinkie does not know.

The guitar, laying by the log, begins to hum - a low, distorted sound - as if playing itself. Pinkie’s fur bristles at the odd noise, but she can’t seem to pull away from Fluttershy’s strange, too perfect smile. Her stomach drops, twisting on itself with unease.

Fluttershy inches her face closer to Pinkie’s, speaking in a sickly sweet whisper, like cotton candy left too long in the sun. It was here that Pinkie could peep behind the veil at the monster taking her friend’s form. Blackened veins contrasted against the mare’s fur, and she spoke once again. “The Zone…it’ll make everything better, Pinkie. You just need to let it in.”

The fire suddenly roars, casting monstrous shadows that dance along the trees, twisting them into demonic shapes. The air is frigidly cold, the fire offering no warmth. “Fluttershy’s” eyes glint in the flickering light, sunken into her face, now bone-like. Her smile stretches far beyond what is natural. Pinkie’s breath quickens, and she finds the strength to take a couple steps back, her hooves feeling heavy, like they’re stuck in the ground. The pegasus’s distorted form grows taller, looming over the pink mare, the shadows writhing in their unnatural, macabre dance. Pinkie trips, and crawls desperately towards her makeshift lean-to.

Fluttershy spoke again, her voice echoing unnaturally. “Join me, Pinkie. The Zone wants us. It’ll make us whole. Let it take you.”

She reached into her tent, and pulled out her Party Popper. She rolls over, and aims it at the creature - her friend. Her hooves shake as she brings up the scope, her body trembling at the sight of the anomaly before her.

Frantically, she pleaded with the monster. “I-I don’t want to do this! I just want you back! I just want things to go back to normal!”
The creature cocks its head, speaking once more tauntingly, shedding its facade and deepening its voice. “You can’t go back, Pinkie. Not now, not ever.”

Pinkie shuts her eyes tightly, waiting for death. Without thinking, she pulled the trigger. The explosion of the rifle barrel echoes throughout the forest like a whip-crack---

Pinkie wakes with a start. The campfire continues to crackle quietly beside her, the guitar lies restfully by the log’s edge. The confetti from the Party Popper flutters harmlessly to the ground around her, shimmering in the dim light of the fire.

She’s alone again. The branches of the Zone-infected forest loom around her, silent and oppressive. She throws the Party Popper, still in her hooves, off to the wayside. Her heart is still racing, and she wipes her tear covered face with her hooves, pressing them softly against her eyes. The image of Fluttershy lingered in the mare’s mind.

She pulls her hooves away, staring at them, trying to catch her breath. It was just a dream. She knows it was just a dream, but the visage of Fluttershy’s haunting smile won’t leave her. After her breath slows enough, she reaches into her saddlebag once more for another friend, Crystal Clear, and downs as much vodka as she can stomach - nearly half the bottle.

After a heavy sigh, softly to herself, Pinkie whispers. “I just…want them back.”

The fire crackles on as Pinkie lets the alcohol take her into another fit of sleep, her mind haunted by the echoes of her dream.