The Trotting Dead

In the cold dead night.

Chapter 2: Asher

Sitting in a daze a tie at my right neatly pressed, Hearing voices “Ash, Ash” I snapped out of it shaking my head. Today was a new job opening I am what people call a recovering alchaholic, I can’t get enough of it. I would sell my stuff, hurt people I was selfish and I lost my child to it her and my wife left me and moved out of Canterlot. Now today I have a job opening, I’m going to work in an office I’m very scared of enclosed spaces but I have to. “Hey idiot wake up” again snapping out of it I face Rosey a pony with her mane the color of her name. She was older but she was very nice to say the least. She’s given me a job she wants me to have my child. But now here I stand at the concrete jungle, obviously mixed by magic.

And I can admit that I am not very good with magic, they say that my brain isn’t exactly right. And magic is very difficult for me to perform. Now I am headed out tie around my neck a smile on my face, or at least the hollow of a smile. Coffee was floating in mid-air with the sullen glow of my gray magic. I was dodging the oncoming ponies, where did they need to go, what was the rush? I had obtained this medallion it was my daughter’s when she left she had given it to me. She was crying and I was inebriated I could’ve cared less what was going on. I never thought I had done wrong by anyone but the looks I am receiving jump beyond the bounds of simple detachment. Reaching the enormous office building the slate stone reaching far beyond my gaze, I was scared. I felt detached from the community from my family, from myself and even for the longest time. From late night parties at the hard weekends at college, to the first time I took one of my father’s beers. It started as fun then became a way of life

I walked in and was appointed to my cubicle by a Light pink mane’d vixen or as I could describe it she had innocence to her undefined by the ponies around her. It seemed her eyes could piece metal, but melt hearts. “Hello sir, I’m feather heart” she smiled “and you are”. I snapped from my distant look into space “I’m Asher, but I prefer Ash” She turned And looked down the adjacent hallway, she motioned forward with her hoof “Uh, I think your cubicle would be that way and I’m sure, Clarence would like to see you before the work day ends. I thanked her and walked down the confined hallway. And taking a right into a soon to be well known confined space, it diminished my faith in equestria. Questions raced through my skull bouncing around and trying to be answered, Who was Clarence, do you think that receptionist likes crystal kingdom food, why is the moon and sun rising slower each day and lastly why has the castle been very locked up tight recently and I heard twilights been in town. Maybe it’s just a visiting thing between teacher and student.

I sat down and grabbed a pencil; well no one actually works the first day right. So I drew I’m a bit rusty since my last artistic endeavor. But I did successfully draw the receptionist entitled it feather heart and toyed with it for the moment erasing lines and fixing shading, and before I knew it the work day was over. I threw the picture in the trash and walked out. But that was really to no avail, I was blocked by a very angry looking pony, possibly not at that moment but a generally angry pony poised in an unperturbed fashion, his eyes were fixated on me which I assumed was reason enough to meet him. I walked over.

His eyes met mine his were black as night yet a dark sullen blue, as if they have seen a lot he was a normal land pony medium build, brown mane and brown coat. He would be the definition of normal if not for one thing. A large pink scar down his face, the hair that once was, was now long gone and forgotten he must have really gotten into it with something, or somepony. “Welcome to the work force, I am Clarence your superior” his expression softened “well basically, I say it you do it. Then he stepped aside and let me pass feather heart floated by she seemed worried about something. I walked forward raising a hoof. She must have not seen it she just went on. I heard a noise, galloping when I looked to my left a mare’s bathroom flung open, and what stepped out was grotesque and horrible, it was once a mare would’ve been a beautiful one at that. But now that remains is a blood soaked shell of a pony. She was hurt, I ran up to her stepped close to help she leaped for me I backed up flipped, away and ran all I did was run, I ran outside and what I saw, was inconceivable fire, death screams, riots and royal guard ponies running.

“Hey you” I looked around I was scared I looked down an adjacent alleyway “yea you come here, it’s dangerous out there” I ran into the alley way and we walked quite a ways, and made it to a roof and looked down on the city that was basically ash. Balefire and brimstone rained down things exploded stores were being robbed and ponies were being hurt and I could do nothing about it. “Oh yea, I never introduced myself, well you know death and the destruction of a city can do that” he raised a hoof to bro hoof “I’m Nightpath nice ta meet’cha” I raised my hoof half-heartedly and hit his. He motioned towards a house, possible a haven no fire surrounded it and it was on the out skirts of Canterlot. We ran we had to get safe

Waking up blurry eyed and more tired than when I went to sleep the clank of bottles rang with every movement. That gash I had gotten recently isn’t healing up very good, it’s probably infected the doc can probably patch me up. Well when I get back to there, I will also have to go to a place I haven’t been in a while, I owe a good friend a visit. Since all of equestria has been in turmoil I might as well get me some breakfast, And maybe a little liquid warmth to get me through the day. I walked into a store the sign was destroyed, and the building was burnt, or otherwise singed around the edges. I walked in as gracefully as a 31 year old, hung-over stallion would have. And that I mean badly. I chided against broken glass and uprooted rebar. I spotted in the distance a can, of what I couldn’t see my mind wouldn’t focus I rubbed my face feeling the handkerchief fashioned into a medical mask. And I magically grabbed the can, moving it ever so slightly as to not hit any racks any unneeded sound I didn’t want. But just like that I noticed something. It was a pony a dead bony bones and organs and blood surrounded it a now very normal sight, it was a young stallion no older than 19. His skull had been smashed and its contents were only a fraction of what they were. But it wasn’t the pony I found interesting. He was lying in a pool of his on blood and he had, Whisky.

The sensations in my brain broke my concentration, the can I was levitating dropped with a painful thud, and I heard rustling in the background I tried to illuminate the darkness. My horn sputtered emitted light for a split second, and then it quit leaving me in darkness. I climbed my way over the broken door way and walked toward the pony.