It seemed as if the sky was an endless ocean of blue light. Not a single cloud had blemished it, and it made her wonder why she had been called into work that day in the first place. “Rainbow Dash…” she muttered, “You wanted the sky cleared… then why did you do it yourself?” There was no way she could know for sure that Ponyville’s top weather pony had eliminated the clouds, but deep down she was sure that prismatic mare had a good hoof in the matter. “There’s not—”
The Pegasus was cut off when she suddenly spotted a ring of clouds just outside of the Everfree forest. For the most part, they simply resembled ordinary clouds: white, fluffy, and about a mare’s length thick. But there was something off about them, something that riled up the curiosity within the scarlet Pegasus. Perhaps it was the way they looped around onto themselves, or how they were intersected by a stream of grey smoke that caught her attention. Is this normal? She wondered. She did not have much experience with cloud formations in that area, and while she knew that nature did not work the way it was supposed to around the Everfree, there was a buoyancy of excitement in her stomach as she neared the phenomena. She strained her eyes to see through the clouds as she passed over the rings, and far below her upon the ground laid a large, looming creature, body twisted and wings mangled as if it had been torn from the sky by a force much greater than itself.
Terror struck into the pony’s heart, and she immediately descended. With wings tucked tightly against her body, she plummeted closer and closer towards the monster, and as she drew nearer it became more and more apparent that this ‘monster’ was not such a living thing. In no time, gravity had taken her to mere feet above the ground and she spread her wings hastily to avoid crashing. She landed with a heavy thud, and turned to stare up at the mangled beast.
Although at this level, she was sure that this was no beast at all. Its body was broken into at least three parts, and its insides were spilling out not blood but wires, chairs and oil. Steam was leaking from various cracks and fissures in its smooth metal casing, and its appendages (which the red mare had assumed to be ‘wings’) were twisted and bent in ways that she was certain a wing should never be bent. She cringed slightly at the sight of them and rustled her feathers as a shiver managed to wriggle its way down her spine. Gritting her teeth, she turned and began to further investigate the large object. She stepped into it, where the back end and the middle part had been severed, and part of the upturned metal structure creaked loudly beneath her weight. The hair on her back stood on end and she quickly recoiled from the thing, freezing as she stared it over with anxious eyes. After a few moments of silence and stillness, she once again proceeded inside the object. The creaking sound occurred again, but she persisted instead of turning back. It was dark, and looked much like a very small house, but instead of having beds and couches there were nothing but rows upon rows of chairs; some were tipped over while others remained upright and untouched, as if nothing at all had ever happen to them.
In some of the seats sat large, rickety yellowish figures, strapped in with some sort of belt-like harness, and with others the figures were laying on the floor, as if they were dead. The Pegasus cautiously walked over to one and nudged it with a hoof. She flinched when it rocked back and forth a bit, but she soon became aware that these were not alive, or at the very least were no longer alive. She looked around, surveying the other figures, which were all similarly lifeless. “Is this a joke?” she asked aloud to no one in particular. Again she kicked the figure and with a loud clang it rolled over and collided with the wall. She trotted over to one of the seats for a closer look, and noticed papers shoved into a pocket in the back. She gripped one, the thinnest, between her teeth and pulled it out, accidentally upsetting one of the figures beside her so that it slumped over out of the seat. She quickly bolted outside in fright and as soon as her hooves touched the soft grass she slowed to a halt. She spat out the paper she had been carrying, and looked down at the writing on it. There wasn’t much to read, as it mostly showed picture of the large object (now whole) in various situations in which it were crashing, and there were figures much like the yellow ones performing various acts: some were bent over, almost in half; others were placing strange masks on their faces; and others yet were pushing and shoving their peers, whether inside or out of the giant flight house. There was one thing that she noticed in particular. All of the figures pictured on this paper looked very different from one another, and they all seemed very animated. She lifted her head to survey her surroundings. The ground was littered with pieces of metal, wiring, chairs, and the yellow ones with disembodied limbs scattered about, but overall, there were no figures or creatures even that looked just quite like the ones featured on that pamphlet.
Except for one.
Her attention was snatched up by it: a figure, much like the many that were lying in the debris of the crash, but much more different. For one thing, it wasn’t yellow—or at least not the same kind of yellow—and instead of being bare naked like the others it wore a dirtied white shirt and tattered dark blue pants. It was only her upbringing in Canterlot that allowed her to be familiar with this, for the ponies there loved to don their bodies with clothes to show their class.
She approached it slowly, although she was sure it was the same as all the others. Perhaps it was only a coincidence that it were clothed, and that it look different from the others of its kind scattered about the wreckage. But she took no chances: she was already dangerously close to the mysterious Everfree forest and she did not wish to tempt death that day. As she drew nearer to it, she began to notice more differences: it had a long, stringy black mane upon its head; its muzzle was longer than that of the others’ surrounding it but much shorter than hers; it had all of its limbs, and where she could see breaks in its skin it leaked red blood like she would if she were wounded. She stopped when she came to stand about a yard from it, separated only by one of the disheveled yellow ones lying beside it.
She bit her bottom lip softly and held her breath. It had eyes, and they were open. The yellow ones did not have eyes, or at least not opened eyes. The limb lying across its torso was rising with its chest, and she suddenly became very aware that this creature was not like the yellow ones, that this creature was a live thing.
And suddenly, it snapped its head towards her, its green eyes wide, and from its mouth came a terrifying shout that sent her airborne in seconds. The dust beneath her kicked up into the creatures face and by the time it managed to clear its eyes she had already retreated behind a large cylindrical portion of the flying house’s wing.
“Be careful!”
Her ears pricked up at the sound of the rumbling voice. She craned her neck around the cylinder to peek at the creature, the only thing that seemed alive beside her in this field of debris. “Wh-what?” She called back nervously.
There was silence for a moment before she saw the creature open its mouth to speak. “Uhh… Be careful. That’s hot.”
Perplexed, the mare withdrew herself from her hiding place to catch a better look at her offender. It was now sitting upright, clutching one of the severed limbs of the yellow ones to its chest. Its eyes were no longer quite so wide, but there remained a hint of fear in them. Overall, though, it appeared that the creature was now experiencing an overwhelming sense of bewilderment, and when its dark green eyes were not glued to her they were drifting about the surrounding area. Eventually, its eyes returned to her, and it stared at her through the ragged curtain of its stringy mane.
She stood frozen in her place for quite a while, too nervous to move, but eventually she gained the courage to take a step. The creature opposing her grew tense again, but in its eyes there was no longer any trace of fear. She took another step, and another. The amount of time she was taking seemed to stretch on at a pain-staking slow pace, but with each step, she gained a little more courage, and the creature grew a little less tense. Finally, she was right in front of it, once again only a yard away, and was staring anxiously up into its eyes. At this point, the creature had deposited its weapon beside it, and now simply sat and stared at her in awe.
“You…You can talk,” she stated, trying to control the quivering tone in her voice. The creature’s eyes widened a little more. “You can talk?” he said in response. He seemed as surprised as she was, if not more.
“Y-yes, of course,” she said, standing a bit taller. “Wh…what are you?”
Its brow furrowed. “I’m… I’m a person. A human being.” It seemed confused by the question. “What else would I be?”
“Well, you could be anything, especially if you came out of there!” She pointed a hoof towards the forest behind him, which he turned to see. She quickly grabbed the limb in her mouth and dragged it away, just far enough to be out of reach for this ‘person’ thing. But the human showed little interest in the limb, and when he return to look at her he began to stare fervently.
She swallowed the knot growing in her throat. “Hi… My name is Red Kiln.” She tried to make motions in the air with a hoof to emphasis her speech, but it seemed to only further confuse the ‘person’. “Um, anyway… Do you have a name?”
It sat still and a thoughtful expression crossed its face for a moment before it finally nodded.
Red smiled nervously. “Well… What is it?”
“Oil.”
“Oil.”
The creature seemed as surprised as she felt to have said such a name. Oil sounded like it could be a regular old pony’s name. But this thing, this person, was clearly no pony. And yet, Red had no choice but to go with it, as this Oil person did not make any objections or in any way seem to correct itself.
Without warning, Oil reached out a limb and placed it on her head. Red was in no way prepared for this, and her muscles locked up as she flinched beneath its weight. But the appendage did not bring harm to her, and she peeked out at the creature through a squinted eye. His demeanor was not hostile from what she could tell, but instead hosted the same bewildered expression it had since it first became aware.
The appendage did not move. Red slowly raised her head to look at it. It slid through her green mane and eventually down her forehead and snout. It appeared to be some sort of claw, much like a dragon’s, but it did not foster talons and the digits were soft and fleshy. Upon closer inspection Red realized that Oil himself was much like a dragon; a thin, fleshy dragon. From the position in which it sat, the ‘person’ species did not seem capable to walk on four legs like her; rather, its upright spine seemed more fitting for bipedal movement. Its coat was made of thin dark hairs, which did not fully cover its body like hers did. Beneath these hairs was a large expanse of tan-colored skin. This was all Red could be sure of, as there was no other clues in the person’s physical appearance that betrayed any information about it. From there, she began to apply facts about her world to this creature. Its voice was deep, much deeper than any mare’s she had ever know, so she came to conclude that the gender of Oil (if such creatures called ‘persons’ even had genders) was male. He lacked a horn and a pair of wings, so she assumed that he had ordinary powers of an earth pony, if he even had those. But despite his lack of magic, his digits were flexible and precise in their movements, which seemed to make up for that fact.
“You’re actually there…aren’t you?”
Red almost gapped at him, but caught herself before her jaw hung open. Is he…is he mental? But Red Kiln was an overall nice pony, and because of this she kept her query to herself. “Should I… not be?”
But Oil did not answer. He was looking past her, staring at the wreckage of the winged house. Red turned and pointed to it.
“Did you come from that?”
“Huh?” Oil returned his attention to her.
“That flying house. Did you come from there?”
Oil’s perception of her question became very apparent from the expression on his face. With brows twisted in confusion and mouth gaping slightly, he alternated between looking at the metal object and the scarlet Pegasus. “That’s no house. It’s a plane.”
Red turned to look at the great metal object. She was not the most intelligent mare in Equestria, but she was by no means ignorant. What she saw was in no way a ‘plane’, not by any definition of the word. For one thing, it was clearly a three-dimensional surface, and she was sure that she would never find the Earth ponies plowing snow from it during the transition from winter to spring. “So you came from there?”
Oil ran his digits through his mane, but suddenly stopped and pulled away. A red liquid stained his flesh. He looked up and quickly scanned the area. “I… I guess I did…”
“You mean you don’t know?”
Oil bit his lower lip, chewing it very gingerly as he thought. “I don’t remember. Wh-where am I? I can’t even remember why I was on that plane in the first place…”
Red stared at him, her chest filling with a warm sense of sympathy. She spun around quickly, but saw no other signs of life besides Oil and herself. What do I do? She wondered. I can’t leave him here, he’s hurt. But I can’t really take him back to Ponyville either… I don’t even know if he’s dangerous…. The battle between her morals and common sense raged on in her mind as the person before her continued to examine his body and take inventory on his wounds. Finally Red came to a decision, and even though her whole body was revolting against it, she stayed firm. “You need help,” she said, and felt her muscles flinch just slightly as he turned to gaze at her with his large green eyes. “I can take you back to town with me, but it’ll be a long walk. Do you think you can manage it?”
Oil nodded, and as he pushed himself to his feet the joints in his legs popped and cracked. However, he showed no sign of pain and did not collapse, so Red decided that he was alright. But it was his sheer height that worried her the most. He loomed over her, casting his tall thin shadow over her. Her legs trembled slightly and it took her a moment to regain her composure. He was not actually a giant at all. In fact, he was probably no taller than Princess Celestia, and if he was it was not by much. It was his slender frame that made him seem taller, like the tallest tree in the Everfree. But in spite of her rationalization, Red’s wings clamped tightly to her body, and she realized that until she could calm down she was going to have to hoof it.
She looked around at the other persons lying about, the yellow ones. “Should we try to help your friends? I don’t know if any of them survived; the ones I’ve seen seemed pretty dead.”
Oil gave her a puzzled look at first but then shook his head. “I don’t think they were ever alive. They’re mannequins. Dummies.”
Red took one last survey of the crash site before shrugging and turning to go. Before she got far, she heard a scuffle from behind her and she turned to see Oil doubled over with his claws on his knees. She stopped and returned to him. “You ok?”
He nodded and slowly stood up again. She let him pass her and followed close behind.
As they walked, Red Kiln noticed some peculiarities of the person. Every so often he would stumble, tripping over either his own feet or some unflushed part of the ground on which they walked. He did not seem to have a problem with endurance, however, for he kept the pace even with her the entire time. He did jump occasionally, and once he even leapt up with all his might and landed on the ground with a heavy thud. From this Red had been so startled she nearly shed her feathers from launching herself into the air so quickly, where she remained for the remainder of the journey home.
Fireflies.
Hundreds of fireflies, dancing about like stars in the night’s sky. The forest was peaceful, void of any sound but the gentle whispers of wandering spirits. She trotted to and fro, standing beside the occasional lost soul and sheparding it back towards the spring of light. The frightened ghastly foals she scooped beneath her wing, cradling them towards the requiem of radiance.
There was a vortex growing from the shadows nearby. She did not know what it was or what was causing it, but she could sense that it was malevolent. She stood her ground and extended her wings as if to prove that she would not back down, and that the intruder should leave her and her spirits well alone.
Something strange was happening.
The fireflies had all disappeared, and the wandering spirits became unusually hushed. She felt the air grow colder and the hairs alone her spine stand on end as a grimly figure rose from the vortex of gloom. Its flesh was sickly pale and its face was obscured by a mop of pitch black hair. It loomed over her, eclipsing the moon with its great horrible head and plummeted the forest into darkness. Her heart was pounding as it opened its great maw, its skin stretching and tearing apart to reveal a festering hole. It opened its eyes; they radiated a menacing placid green that stood in great contrast to its washed out skin and grungy strands of ebony hair…
She jolted out of her slumber at the sound of her front door slamming shut. She blinked her weary eyes and rolled over slowly, sitting up to rub them with her hooves. “Red… s’that you?”
“Nightshade, where’s the first aid kit?”
Her ears pricked up. “Under the bathroom sink.” Her arms flopped lazily to lap, but despite her sluggish movements she was wide awake. “What happened? You ok?”
But her roommate did not answer, only zipped past her and into the bathroom. There was the clattering of objects being moved about; the smoky colored Pegasus leaned over the side of the bed to see what exactly it was her friend was up to. “Red? Did you hear—”
She was cut off by the sound of a heavy mass collapsing to the floor in front of her, and she turned her to examine it.
She froze.
It sat upright, its long, slender legs twisted in ways that would be impossible for any pony, and its front legs ending not in a hoof or a foot but in some sort of meaty claw; these were folded gently over its lap. Its mane was black and fell in thin strands over its face and shoulders, with one patch to its right side tinted the russet color of drying blood. Her staring gained its attention, and it returned her gaze with as much intensity with deep emerald eyes.
“Nightshade, are you sure—” Red paused as she reemerged from the restroom empty-hoofed and noticed the tense exchange that was occurring between her roommate and the other. “Oh…” She cleared her throat, but her grey friend’s stare did not break. “Umm, Night, this is Oil. Oil, this is my roommate, Nightshade.”
The creature called Oil nodded in greeting, but Nightshade remained motionless and equally speechless. After a few moments of painful silence, she finally managed to find her voice. “R-red Kiln… can I speak with you for a moment….”
“Uh oh…”
With that, the darker mare launched herself from the bed in which she sat and tackled her crimson friend into the bathroom, bucking the door shut with one swift kick of her hind hoof. “What the buck is that thing?” she shouted, her heart finally catching up with the adrenaline that raced through her veins. “And why did you bring it home with you?”
“Him,” corrected Red, dragging herself from beneath her frantic friend. “I found him outside Everfree while on-call for cloud clearing. There was this winged housed-thing—I think he called it a ‘plane’— that seemed to have crashed from out of nowhere. All of his friends were dead, Night, and he was hurt. I couldn’t just leave him there; what if he got attacked by timberwolves, or worse?”
“So what if he did!” Nightshade threw her arms up into the air in emphasis, neared clipping Red on the nose. “What do you know about this thing? He could be dangerous!”
“You don’t think I thought of that?”
“I sure as hay hope you did!” She took a deep breath. “Look, Red, what if he’s a shape shifter or something?”
“A shape shifter?”
“Like, what if he only is putting on this fleshy façade, and he’s actually this unknown apex predator that feasts on the brains of naïve ponies?”
“A shape shifter.”
“It could bucking happen!” She cried. “I mean, anything imaginable could come from that god-forsaken forest! For Luna’s sake, what were you thinking?”
Red pushed past her roommate and pulled open the door just a crack. The frightened Pegasus peeked over her friend’s shoulder. The creature named Oil was sitting right where they had left him, but he had picked up one of the vases Red had made and was staring at it with admiration. Red closed the door. “Does that look like a brain-eating apex predator to you?”
“He may not look like one now, but what if he turns into one?”
“Well, unless we clean up that wound on his head soon, he’s going to be an apex predator eating brains through an IV while in a vegetative state.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Nightshade mocked. “Great, go enable him. But when he’s crunching your skull, don’t come crying to me!”
“Nightshade, you’re being ridiculous. I’d expect this kind of behavior from me, not you, of all ponies.”
“Well, look how the tables turn!”
“Why don’t you just go talk to him? He seems really nice, and he’s surprisingly gentle for his size.”
“You let him touch you? Do you have grass for brains? That’s how they control you!”
“I thought they tricked you with a façade.”
She hesitated. “W-well, that too!”
“I’m starting to see some loop-holes in your theory,” Red stated matter-of-factly. “Now go out there and make sure he hasn’t passed out yet before I buck you straight to the moon.”
“You couldn’t do that.”
“You’re right, but I know some ponies that could.”
Nightshade gritted her teeth. “Fine,” she muttered and she threw open the door.
As she entered the room, the monster looked up at her with his great green eyes. She flinched as she caught their gaze, but quickly looked away. She didn’t understand it, but she felt her heart racing and her face growing warm. She felt as if she were dragging her hooves towards him, all the while avoiding eye contact and clenching her jaw tightly. When she stood but a foot away, her legs began to tremble nervously. “H-hellllo….” She stammered. She could feel his powerful gaze burning through her.
"Um...Hi,"he said with a hint of amusement. Despite the confident look on his face, there was a glimmer in his eyes that betrayed just how addle he really felt. His voice was deep and dark like the rolling rumble of distant thunder, but smoky like a cloud of ash. It was surprising pleasant, but this only seemed to further confirm her theory. This must be how he seduces, she thought, glaring up at him through her mane. “I’m onto you, you creep. You won’t be eating my brain, not now, not ever.”
Oil’s face twisted in a combination of bewilderment and disgust. "W-what?" From there he stared silently at her, and the longer she stared back the softer her glare became. Slowly, the sleep began to seep from her muddled mind, and the ridiculousness of her words began to sink in. “…wait…”
“You’ve got to stop reading those mystery novels before you go to sleep.”
Nightshade turned to see her lime-maned roommate standing behind her, the first aid pack clamped tightly between her wings. She trotted past him with a scowl on her face, then placed the pack down beside her. “Are you going to help me with this or not?”
The darker pegasus rubbed her head for a moment and sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” She waited for Red to pass before she shook her head in the attempt to remove the sleep from her mind and joined her friend to prepare an antibiotic cleansing salve. Red examined the wound. “Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches, but then again, I’m no vet.” She staggered over to the kitchen sink to wash her hooves just as Nightshade finished preparing the salve. She took some deep breaths to get more oxygen to her brain as she dipped her hoof in the light colored mixture and reared to near the man’s head. “Hold still.”
As she placed her hoof over the wound he watched her with genuine intrigue and a bit of anxiety. As soon as it touched him he flinched away, clenching his teeth and hissing in pain. “Look, I know it stings, but please, hold still! The sooner you let me do this, the quicker it’ll be over.”
He turned his head just enough to glare at her from the corner of his eyes, and Nightshade could almost hear his heart pounding in his chest. With a pang of irritation in her gut, Nightshade sighed. “Listen, I know we got off on the wrong hoof. But right now, I need you to trust me.”
The man named Oil continued his glare, but she felt his breath slowing just slightly. However, he showed no sign of cooporating with her.
She crossed her hooves over her chest. “I’m sorry, ok? I tend to get a bit delusional when I am startled out of a deep sleep. So buck me.”
Oil leaned away from her, his brow scrunching in such a way as to question the use of Nightshade's word. “Buck?”
Nightshade frowned at him, trying to interpret his tone. “Never mind,” she said, deciding that he was sincerely unfamiliar with the term. Although she was still unsure of him, she decided to take one final resort. “Please, Oil, just trust me?” She crouched down and with ears pulled back gave him the biggest pleading look her luminous green eyes could muster. Oil looked down at her, only a slight hint of surprise in his expression, before he finally sighed softly and hesitantly leaned his head toward her. “Thank you,” she said in relief. She dipped her hoof in the salve again to coat it in a new layer of the medicine before gingerly dabbing it on the matted circle of black hair. Oil winced and a shiver waved through his body, but he did not pull away this time.
Red Kiln returned from the sink and began unraveling the roll of gauze. “Crabapples,” she muttered as she dropped it. It rolled away from her, unraveling the cotton strips and contaminating them on the floor.
“I’ll get it,” Oil said softly, and as he turned to reach for the roll Nightshade lost her balance and began to fall sideways. He swiftly thrust out his arm and snatched up her left foreleg in his meaty claw, his grip surprising powerful. Nightshade cried out in shock and tried to launch herself into the air, but his grip on her arm was too strong and she merely managed to leap a few feet upwards and drag him down with her. She hit the ground and he landed on her rump, her arm still in his grasp. His arm was twisted in such a way that for any pony to be in that position it would have been broken. But Oil simply let go of her and pushed his heavy body upright. “I’m sorry…” he murmured.
“I…umm…” Nightshade was unsure what to say. She was startled and a little intimidated by his strength and flexibility. Did he just apologize? She was not sure exactly who was at fault in this situation. He had knocked her over, but she had caused him to fall. But he had fallen on top of her! She rubbed her forleg where he had grabbed her. If he has that sort of strength, it might be best to keep him placated...“Umm, no, it’s ok. I’m ok—are you ok?”
He nodded as he reached for the roll of gauze, picking it up and brushing off any dust he saw. He then proceeded to wrap the bandaging around his head.
“Here,” Red Kiln said as she trotted over to him. She reared up and helped him arrange the bandages.
“Thank you,” he said softly, and smiled at her. Nightshade noticed a shiver run down her spine. He certainly seemed sweet enough, but there was something eerie, and familiar, about his smile, as if it just did not fit his face.
A small dot of red appeared on the gauze around his head, and it was slowly growing larger. “We might need to get him some help after all,” Red said, watching the blood spread through the cotton. “Maybe he’ll need stitches…”
Nightshade looked out the window. Celestia’s sky was beginning to show hints of deep blue as her sister’s night was creeping up to it. “The sun’s gonna be setting soon,” she said. “If we wait until night, we can try to sneak him to Fluttershy’s house, but that’s still on the other side of town. How long do you think we can wait?”
The spot of blood now had the circumference of a bit, and the faint pink ring around it was still creeping outwards. Oil seemed alright, albeit a bit tired, but that could be due to the walk to the house, or the stress of the crash. “Then again,” the dark mare said, “there’s no guarantee that Fluttershy will let him in.”
“Fluttershy loves all animals. Of course she’d let him in.”
“I really don’t know, Red. I had just woken up and I was ready to throw him out of the house. If we wake her to treat him, she might lock herself inside.”
“So what do you suppose we do?”
Nightshade looked up at Oil, who was now slumping against the wall. He was by no means bleeding profusely, but with each passing moment more and more of his energy seemed to drain away. Making him trudge across Ponyville after all he’s been through that day seemed like cruel punishment, and if there were any stray ponies taking a nighttime stroll, a risky matter.
“We need her to come here.”
