A Nightmare Night to Remember

AN: Somehow, this mess made it to Top 10 Finalists on EQD (in its unedited version no less). Whyyyyyy And rushed ending is rushed. Might get around to doing some more edits this weekend... maybe.

I awoke in the semi-darkness, aware of nothing more than the fact that I had survived the fall. I don't know how; I must have plummeted miles deep beneath the surface of Equestria, or at least it felt that way. I know this sounds unbelievably contrived, but certain pivotal scenes from my life, little flashes from the past, played through my mind the entire way down.

The scene of the wedding was predominant in my reel of memories. Most ponies who attended don't know this - I still haven't even gotten around to telling my own sister let alone anypony else - but it wasn't just the three bridesmaids of Princess Cadance's who were enchanted by Chrysalis.

Now, it wasn't like we were caught doing anything we shouldn't have! And when I say "we", I mean, of course, me and Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. Back then, we Cutie Mark Crusaders crusaded in every nook and cranny we could find trying to discover our special talents, and the Canterlot castle was no exception. I do believe we would've crusaded all the way through the fourth wall - which is some magical land Pinkie Pie keeps jabbering on about - if we could even find the blasted place.

But anyway, there we were, tramping through some of the lower antechambers of the castle, when we heard some curious noises in the next chamber. It sounded like some ponies having a really deep discussion about something. Their voices were low and raspy, and they sounded kind of like when you scrape a block of wood against the sandpaper we use on arts and crafts day at school.

The three of us exchanged glances. We could hear snippets of their dialogue, but it was confusing to put together the pieces into any real conversation.

"…the tests? I… quite clever of the princess, but she is no match…" A female voice. Despite its casual manner, I could detect strains of anxiety in it.

"…when you free us? You know you will be… if you serve us no purpose…" A low, warning tone.

"Trust me, my… and you will not… a new queen…" This time, she seemed to have gained confidence. Her voice was strong, and she finished with a rough cackle. Then there was a rattle of chains and loud hoofsteps that slowly faded away.

I was left mostly confused by their peculiar discussion. I figured "princess" meant either Princess Luna or Princess Celestia or even Princess Cadance, but who was this "queen" they had mentioned?

"What in tarnation was that all about?" Apple Bloom whispered, voicing our thoughts exactly.

I shrugged, but Scootaloo got this devious look on her face. "Why don't we go find out?" she grinned. She flattened her body so that it pressed against the cold stones of the floor and crept toward the source of the laughing.

"No! Scootaloo, we shouldn't—" I hissed, but to no avail. My words only seemed to spur the stubborn pegasus into action as she swept into the next room over. My heart in my throat, I fearfully peered around the corner, Apple Bloom mimicking my motions.

Our eyes were met with long rows of cells that ran along either side of the hall. It must have been one of the dungeon areas we'd heard rumors about. This one was dank and musty but with that sharp, sterile smell of hospitals and surgery rooms. When I squinted, I thought I could make out a faint, orange blur slowly gliding amongst the stained dungeon cages.

"Scootaloo," I called out softly. I knew she couldn't hear me, but merely saying her name assured me I was doing everything I could to support her short of actually trailing after her.

The little filly kept pushing onward through the dark corridor, and my heart jumped a little each time I thought I could detect some slight shuffling within the prison cells. Scootaloo suddenly began to do the same thing, pausing to check out the vaults surrounding her. She was just a speck now, and I had to strain my eyes, opening them as wide as they would go, just to keep her within sight. My eyes began to water up, so I had to blink to get them clear.

It was then that I heard a small gasp from my side. I turned fearful eyes upon my earth pony friend.

"Ah… ah don' think this will end well…" she whispered slowly, her rosy eyes glued to the scene before her. I followed her gaze, and then I saw what she was referring to.

Way back at the very end of the corridor were these eyes that glowed in the still darkness. They were of a vivid blue-green and seemed to pulsate with a seething hatred. There was a sudden movement, and then a soft, familiar voice slithered from the deep blackness.

"Oh? What have we here… three little fillies, all scared and alone?"

And then came that cackling again, only this time, it was overpowered with undertones of malice. Those eyes glowed brighter and brighter, a spark that blinded me to all else until all I knew was those powerful orbs that dug into my eyes, forcing me to cower down, breaking my very will, reducing me to a mere crippled shell.

I was powerless, exposed, and subject to her every whim. I was a puppet at her complete mercy, a plaything to toss and twist as she desired. Every command she drilled into my mind I was forced to abide; refusal only provoked a sharp, searing pain deep within me. I opened my mouth wide to scream, but I couldn't. I choked instead, my lungs near collapsing at this pressure pushing against them.

Now let me tell you, this was outright terrifying. I was frightened, confused, pained… And it was worse to know that my friends were experiencing the same torment. At my side, Apple Bloom had already been broken; she was huddled in a trembling mass of yellow fur. Over at the other end of the hall, I could see Scootaloo still struggling, wrestling with this new evil, fighting back with every ounce of her courage.

And then she was faltering, and I couldn't take it anymore. I succumbed as well and could do little more than watch as the monstrous enchantress approached us, dragging Scootaloo's motionless body along with her, her hooves solemnly cracking against the stone floor with each prolonged step.

Most of her face and body was in shadow, so I couldn't see exactly what she was - she certainly wasn't any ordinary pony - but it didn't even matter. I was drawn to those glowing eyes, a blue-green flame that flickered in the deep blackness. They were perfectly round, not narrowed like before, and I thought I could see surprise etched into them.

The she-demon leaned forward and deposited Scootaloo's body before us.

"Listen to me," she hissed at us. "I will be perfectly clear about this. You were never here; you have never set eyes on me. Anyone probe you with questions, and you tell them a little fib. Disobey me, and you'll find that pain you just experienced to be a pleasure in comparison to what awaits. Don't disappoint now. This day will be perfect."

And a maniacal laugh ripped from her throat, rising in volume as the cells stretching along the room came to life with stirs and streaks of that same blue-green: a hundred unblinking pinpoints of color and a hundred serrated jaws opened wide in laughter.

To this day, it still haunted me every time I closed my eyes. I could still see her gaping maw cracked open in merciless mirth, her eyes alight in tongues of ferocious fire, the holes that marred her skin and mane. I know you're thinking maybe I'm going a little crazy, but having that image burned in your memory does that to you. I like to shake it off and pretend it isn't her I see in my every nightmare, but these things eventually catch up to you; there's no running away.

And now, years later, they finally caught up, dredging up all those terrifically terrifying images and recollections and all the evil associations that came along with the package. Like a Pandora's box from those old mare's tales, and somepony had come along and stolen the hope.

As if to show just how cruel fate could be, that little flashback seemed to bleed into the present, as I again was faced with a thousand glinting eyes, flecking the darkness that enclosed me.

"No," I kept saying, "no, no, no…" but that merely incited a ripple of cackling among the ranks.

Was I still remembering things? Had my memories begun to seep through my shattered mental state and control me? Or was I just deluding myself again?

I was nursing a dozen bruises, and I think I chipped one of my back hooves. Something wet was trickling from my side, and I was glad that the shadows masked its hue from me. I don't think the color red would suit me very well in my present state. And don't get me started on the state of my costume, which had been reduced to scraps of cloth and thread after the fall.

At present, I was just trying to figure out what loop of time I was in - perhaps I was still reliving memories? - when an increasingly familiar voice sounded out.

"Bring them to me!"

Wait, "them"? Could it be? Were my friends somewhere near? I tried to call out their names, but all that emerged was a grating cough. I hoped my fall hadn't damaged my throat or lungs or diaphragm; those were so vital to my singing career. That is, if I even had any hopes for one anymore.

It didn't matter though as my mind suddenly became preoccupied with the sudden proximity of those eerie, blue-green eyes. They grew larger and larger until the color was smeared across my every thought. I hiccupped wildly in response and flinched as these metallic things began to prod at me.

I felt myself being raised up then, and in the dim light of their glowing eyes, I saw a long procession of glimmering, dark-gray bodies trailing after me. They had peaked snouts, and flattened ears. Pointed fangs poked out from bared jaws, and ripped wings hung from their sides. On either side, I noticed two similar columns of these insect-like creatures bearing prostrate forms atop their backs. Apple Bloom? Scootaloo?

"Excellent," came that voice again. It trembled a little, and I briefly wondered why. The three of us were thrown at her hooves, and she surveyed us from above.

I didn't mean to, but I sort of looked up and got a good look at her. She was grinning down at us, her eyes wild with fiery light. Just behind her, I could see some - now was it stalactites or stalagmites that hung from the ceiling? - well, jagged icicle-like rock protrusions hanging from the roof of what appeared to be a cavern.

Where exactly were we? We must still be just beneath the heart of the Everfree; maybe this was the den of the changeling hive?

The queen of the changelings, that horrendous Chrysalis thing with the frayed wings and holed legs, eyed us for a time, then swiftly turned to someone next to her.

"Why are there three?" she spat. "Tell me!"

A rather coltish, eager voice that seemed awfully familiar answered. "I… I couldn't shake the other two. But it… it doesn't matter right? You never specified… And it's more for us to feed on… And…" He was stumbling, tripping over his words. I nearly felt sympathy for him, until I remembered what he was. Or rather, who he was.

"Y-you!" I managed to wrench out from my throat. I wheeled around to face him.

He was just another of those freakish changelings, but he smirked as he met my glare. I opened my mouth again to say something, but I couldn't think of what to say.

"What's that?" he said derisively. "Maybe you'll prefer… this instead?" And with that uttered, there was a flash of green, revealing a thin, wiry colt of pale, beige fur and neatly trimmed brown mane. He had a tilted smile, and he seemed to observe me. As I met his shrewd eyes with a gaping look on my face, he mockingly held up his hooves, peering through the square hole he had formed as if sizing me up to take a photograph, all while wearing that stupid little smirk.

"Featherweight?!" I was shocked, though I had no right to be. I should've guessed all along. And especially after his abrupt rage back in the Everfree Forest… Then another thought hit me. Had he been feeding off of Scootaloo's love all this time? I was horrified at that prospect.

"Oh no, I disposed of the real Featherweight years ago, just after your precious little pony wedding." He was grinning widely now, and I wanted to shatter that smile.

A dark, orange form near me twitched a little at his words. I knew Scootaloo wanted to cry out; she was obviously conscious but most likely in no fit state to voice anything.

It didn't matter; the changeling I knew as Featherweight shifted back into his original form, and turned toward Chrysalis.

His voice was lowered now as he said, "And now… I think you're ready for the final transformation."

I think every changeling in that room abruptly fixed their focus upon their flustered queen as they advanced toward her.

For once, I do believe Chrysalis, that hateful monster, was silenced. Her eyes flicked back and forth, and she was backing up rapidly. Her fangs retracted, and her shredded wings folded back.

"N-now—! Wait, I—"

And in one solitary motion, the entire race of changelings channeled their magic, a plane of blinding green light that slammed against the queen's body. It looped around her, squeezing tightly as it began to consume her whole being. For a full second, her form was outlined in a halo of pure magic, and then, just like that, it shattered into a thousand specks of flashing flecks. There was a roaring thunder shaking the cavern the entire time as the little pieces ricocheted and rebounded off the spiked walls. But when the last pieces of her faded off, only silence pervaded.

"Now then." Such a simple phrase, and yet it was weighted with the evils of eons. At that moment, a few changelings shifted and approached Scootaloo's immobile form.

"Our new queen," they whispered. I saw the filly pegasus flinch again. She tried to force herself to her hooves, but fell back down. I could see why. One of her wings was wedged beneath a hind leg, and it didn't move at all.

Broken, that's what it must have been. She seemed near tears, and for the third time that night, I did something I knew I would regret.

"No," I said simply.

The changelings seemed to pause in their advance.

"No!" I yelled, finding strength. My heart leapt about uncomfortably like it was trying to salvage what time it had left before it was too late. My legs wouldn't stop quaking the whole time, and my face twitched uncontrollably.

The changelings just looked at me for a second, before shifting their attention back on Scoots' limp body.

"D-don't you know!?" I was getting a little hysterical. "Sh-she can't! She can't be your queen!"

That got their attention alright.

"Why?" one of them challenged. "She's a pegasus, isn't she? I'm finding these earth ponies are frankly useless."

"Like Chrysalis," another laughed.

"She…" Forgive me, Scootaloo. "She can't fly.

"But me… I'm no earth pony…"

And I lit up my horn, allowing its pale aura to wash over the cavernous room. They seemed to hesitate, exchanging meaningful looks. Then, they began to surround me.

But I let them. After all, they only needed one queen, right? I'd be a sort of sacrificial lamb for a greater cause. My friends free. The hive saved. Really, it's all for the best.

I thought a lot about what Featherweight - no, that freak of a changeling - had said to me just before we all landed down here, during that split second before I made my decision. I guess he's sort of right, in a way. I did look down on them, all because I thought I had more of a future than either of the two, like I figured that made me the better pony.

But that's wrong, and I know it now. And I guess I was also feeling incredibly guilty and sorry about all the things I did, things that weren't nopony's fault but mine.

This thing that happened, though? Of course I wasn't to blame, but I think my actions and what occurred afterward more than make up for all the wrongs I committed. Sure, they'll never completely erase all my mistakes into some void, but in the end, it's all for the best.

And, well, the rest is history. You'll know of course, my darling, once you, too, have conformed your body. I'm sure you did things you regretted coming down here. But did you at least like my story?

Yes, it was very painful, but what isn't, these days? Sometimes I like to think back on my friends. I let them go, of course, after, well, all that. They simply weren't necessary. And I like the memories we shared. Our days of crusading were short-lived but quite fun. I enjoyed them quite a lot actually. Perhaps you too have memories of your own that you cherish?

Don't worry yourself now, being the queen of the changelings isn't all bad. You become a goddess to them, a mother. And you share this love, a love you'll never feel with anyone else.

I mean, I guess I miss my friends and family. It gets hard watching them wither way and die off. But you learn to harden your heart against such frivolities.

Did you rest that foreleg like I told you to? Yes? Good, good.

Now then, I think, will be the perfect time to complete my transformation…