Chapters Twilight Sparkle was hard into a study fest. She had been finding it harder and harder to find the time to study, now that she had five friends that ate up a lot more of her time than she thought they would, but didn’t resent them for this. In fact, she was glad they did. It made the time she did get all the sweeter. So, after randomly choosing a selection of books from the around the library (replacing the ones she had already read), it was down to work.
She couldn’t help but think that she had gotten a rather good selection of books to study; especially when she found a book on restorative magic. She knew it would come in handy: she could help out Redheart a bit now. Once most of her pile had moved from one side of the desk to the other, the next book caused Twilight to raise her eyebrow a bit. The book was small and thin, looking old and weathered, the pages beginning to yellow. Carefully she opened the book.
The ink was faded and smudged in areas, but for the most part still readable. To her surprise it was indeed a journal, of sorts. There were pages after pages of scribbled notes, odd diagrams, magical formulae - so advanced that some through Twilight for a loop - and coffee stains. Deciding to pick up at the natural place, she turned to the beginning of the journal. She started reading, her face furrowing with interest:
They shun me. Call me a fool, say my research is fruitless, and say it will never work. Even my own team has abandoned me now – heresy!
I’ll admit… I can see why they left, I can see why. I know why I am mocked openly by my peers and teachers and colleagues. They want to keep their reputation in their fields intact. They want to still command the respect that their respective break-through or research has gained them in the field of magic. However, what disheartens me is that nopony is even willing to me give a chance. Nopony is willing to look over my research, and give their opinion based on that, not on foolish assumptions! Foolishness!
I tore a hole in the page. I have to calm myself.
The Arch Mage has kicked me out of the university. He said my research was too farfetched and unlikely to yield suitable results for the cost of the materials needed to research it. I understand his position. I’d likely do the same should our positions be switched. So, I –begrudgingly- packed my things and left. A few of my students were sad to see me leave – I hadn’t told them prior. I was quite happy to though, leave on such positive reenforcement.
I’ve decided that I am going to continue my research. I’m not going to let some narrow minded tots dictate my work. I’m just going to do it in my home here, in the Tree. It is secluded enough, miles from anyone, so if something goes bang it shouldn’t wake anyone (I’ll never forget that time in the university – too classic). I am fully aware that if something does go bang, it may well be myself. The experiments that I am going to have to run, in order to get anything out of my theories, will be… well, dangerous is an understatement. We all know what happens when teleportation goes wrong. I guess that (through using some early data of course) that the effects will be magnified a-hundred-fold. However, I fear that I am getting near the end of my rope, as it were. My bones are creaking at me to stop using them whenever I stand. I fear that I may not be able to finish my research: such a pity. Mass Teleportation on this scale, not just two people or pony’s, but tens, if not hundreds of them, in one fell swoop of a spell could be delivered to Canterlot from… well, anywhere! The spell also works on an infinite distance principle too! Oh, if only I could figure it out.
I’m done. I have now the bells tolling my name. I have not written like this for many years now, but all my notes and research are within. I ask of you, the reader or finder of this journal, that you continue an old colt's dream, my research. I feel I am close, but alas, my age… Well, I can only hope that this has not been fourteen years wasted. I can only hope, that this one day, helps. I really can only hope can’t I? Please… please continue, or find somepony who can…please?
Her interest sparked, she began flipping through the pages of the journal. To anypony else, it would have looked like a mess of figures and diagrams. Being honest: it looked that way to her too. Except she could make sense of it. She came to the end, and licking her lips went back to the beginning to read more thoroughly. She had a hard time thinking of any research that she had seen better documented and maintained. The amount of detail presented was making her mouth water, things clicking into place as she began to see where this long dead colt was coming from. Better yet, she felt she could continue on the research. Sure, this old colt did loss his posisition, but back then ponies were very sceptical of any new magic. Conservatives.
Her eagerness built rapidly and she quickly restocked all of her other books - bar a few she felt could help - and floated over to herself a quill and several scrolls. She quickly laid the scroll out on her research table - a surprisingly small thing that faced her on a tilt - and began feverishly taking notes and writing out new magical formulae.
"This colt may not have been able to do this, but with all the teachings of the Princess behind me, I'm sure that I will be able to crack this. Hey, magic has come a long way since when this was written - I think - I'm sure it was simply... the constraints he was under that kept him from figuring this out... yeah." She rapidly scanned her notes and immiidiatly found a mistake. She scored it out thoroughly. "Right?"
****
"Come on Twilight, you need to get outside and see your friends. You’ve been at this for nearly a month now! Don't ya think you should give it, you know, a break?" Twilight was hunched over her research table, her mane looking jagged and frazzled - as though she had been electrocuted- and her eye twitching dangerously and erratically. She was glaring intensely at the scrolls in front of her, threatening to put holes in them as she scavenged in the many formulae and diagrams for the mistakes she had made. She hadn't even heard Spike through her own thoughts, which consisted mainly of, "why don't you work!"
Spike was truthful when he said it had nearly been a month now. The research had initially been going well - or so it appeared. She quickly learned however, that this wasn't the case. The first time she tried the spell, she had to rebuild half of the library. So, it was back to the drawing board; this is now the fifth time she has had to go back to the drawing board. Needless to say, she was a little sick of it. Everything she could think of checked out. There was, as far as her extensive knowledge could tell (as hindered as it was by a lack of sleep), nothing wrong with any part of her execution of the spell, or the spell it self.
She grunted as she slammed her face into the table, crying out, "I can't do it! I just can't figure it out! And there I was thinking this was going to be so very easy, oh how wrong I was - wasn't I?!" Spike walked up to her, putting his clawed hand on her shoulder.
It had taken Twilight half an hour to a find somewhere where she wasn’t being interrupted by everypony wanting to talk to her and find out why she was being so reclusive. One even asked her if she was having a relapse. But, after going through the town centre, the park, the hill and even behind the spa, she found herself amongst the orchards of Sweet Apple acres.
To her surprise, it did. She -surprisingly quickly- found herself identifying mistakes. Her confidence in her previous work confused her now, as she was finding very simple arithmetic mistakes. But her confidence in her editing was now growing with each and every mistake, but despite this, she could see errors that she simply wasn't sure how to fix.
It was bordering pitch black outside. She hadn't noticed due to the light her horn made naturally when using magic. She figured that must have been how Applejack found her.
"If I do this... move this here... get rid of this entirely- no, move it here... will this work? Yes! That'll let me do this... so I can do this... simply remove this... I've done it!“Applejack nearly jumped through the roof at the sudden proclamation, but smiled a wide, though exasperated smile. After nearly three hours of basically doing nothing, offering only tid-bits of help and advice - where she could - when asked, she just wanted to go to bed. Twilight hugged her tightly, repeatedly thanking her for help and advice. Applejack just blew it off, saying it wasn't a problem and looked at the clock longingly. It was 3:21 AM.
****
"Anypony know what the hay this is all about?" Rainbow asked, sounding somewhat impatient as she lazily hovered in the middle of the library. After all she had just helped make a storm, and there was nothing better than relaxing after making a storm. To Rainbow Dash at least. All of Twilights friends - Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity and Rainbow Dash - had assembled in the library at Twilights request, which consisted of showing up in front of them out of the blue and saying, "Be at my house tomorrow, thanks bye!" Pinkie was the most confused at this, strangely enough.
Some time passed - filled with idle conversation and the occasional discussion on the beginnings of the universe - before a tremendous blue ball formed in the middle of the room. All ponies were quickly on their feet, fearing possible hostility, but were shocked when the ball of light receded, leaving none other than Twilight in its wake. She giggled slightly at the stunned expression on her friends’ faces before smiling at them all.
"Well, how about a day trip to Canterlot then?" The collective gasp and chatter of the ponies nearly drowned out the sound of light knocking at the door. Spike - who was lounging in a chair away from the conversation - was the only one to notice it, so he hopped off the chair and opened the door. Standing there was a dripping wet and shivering Scootaloo. Her mane was plastered to her face and shoulders and the saddle bags she wore were also dripping.
Scootaloo ran over to the group and after squeezing her way past Pinkie and Applejack - and off course fussing over Rainbow Dash - she asked Twilight if she could come along, with the promise that she would behave.
But to where?
Chapter 2: Through the Clouds
Twilight Sparkle growled, frustration continuing to mount up as she yet again worked on the infernal scroll that had caused her so much pain. She was starting to consider making a bondfire out of it would be a better way to spend her time. Instead, she simply let her head go limp, and slammed it into the cloud bellow her, with an unsatisfying 'poof'. Scootaloo and herself were lying away from the rest of the group, who were sleeping soundly a few meters away, despite the sun beginning to rise.
The group of friends was quite surprised when the blue light around them receded and they were not standing in front of the main gates to the castle in Canterlot; instead they found themselves floating high in the air, far above the clouds. They didn’t stay floating for long however, of a certain cloudwalking spell, and for Rainbow’s trademark speed in catching, things could have gone very sourly for the non-Pegasi members of the group. This however, was only the first trouble to beset them. Once they had safely landed on the clouds, and some obligatory checks had been made to assure everypony was alright, the issue roused itself: where were they? Rainbow quickly volunteered to check out the situation below the clouds, and with a quick salute, vanished bellow the cloud layer.
No more than twenty seconds passed before Dash darted above the clouds again, trailing powdered snow behind her. She landed, shook the white snow from her before sheepishly explaining that the winds were simply too strong, at least storm level winds, that coupled with the fact that there was exceedingly thick snow falling, simply made it impossible to see anything. That was her excuse, and she was sticking to it. And she did for the course of the day, as she went to try again routinely every few hours, each time only to be stopped by the extreme weather, meaning that she couldn’t even lift them off of the cloud to find some shelter. Thus resulting in the group having to sleep on the cloud: hungry and without any answers; all except Twilight. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty. She felt that it was her fault, and the others blamed her for their current position, she thought she could see it in there eyes. So, being the overly dedicated pony that she is, she pulled herself awkwardly from her friends – they were all piled together to keep warm -, took a seat close by and began working, the moonlight proving bright enough. However, it wasn’t just her dedication to her friends that was making her try to get as much work done on figuring out what went wrong: it was also the lack of magic. Usually she could feel the constant hum of magic around her, traveling down from the sun and the moon in comforting, soothing ripples. Here however, she didn’t feel that. There was no magic in the moon, or the sun. And this…disturbed her. She shivered, as though it weren’t the heat of the sun that warmed her, but the magic itself. She turned back to the scroll and began working through the night…
The next day presented the group with the opportunity to see where they were. This confirmed it for Twilight: they weren’t in Equestria anymore. The ground bellow was orange and white, glittering in the already setting sun. They were directly over the top of a small –normally grassy- field, about an acre in size, with the two sides of a town on either side of it. One side of the town looked like something that reminded the group of the large cities, like the Fillydelphia working class areas and industrial areas, but much less… friendly looking. It seemed like age and decay had sucked the life and colour from the place. Immediately next to the field was a fair sized school –the field obviously belonging to it- with homes near and far from it. The homes looked down right scabby, with small, sometimes smashed, windows. All of the homes themselves were completely rectangular in shape and looked weathered down. Some didn’t even have a proper front door to them. The large area behind the housing looked to be the town centre or market. It seemed to be like a concrete and glass beehive: shops were crammed together wherever they could be, as though huddling for warmth and many strange creatures that walked on only two legs, were quite tall –with the occasional small one- and smothered themselves in clothing – the group thanked Rainbow Dash for this information – going into them and spending their money. The roads themselves were habitat to strange, roughly rectangular shaped vehicles, which buzzed along the roads which littered the gaps between homes and businesses alike.
On the other side of the field however, things seemed to be a bit better. The homes were roughly the same size, but unlike the other side, they were detached homes with triangular roofing and were made of red bricks, some decorated with fine stone pebbles instead of seemingly great grey slabs. They had large, inviting windows and pleasantly painted front doors. It truly looked like a separation of the classes. The whole thing however, would turn into a headache for Twilight as the questions began to flood towards her, the restraints she had put up yesterday completely forgotten. After finally shushing her friends, she turned to them and sighed, annoyed at herself.
The others disagreed, simply calling her paranoid, with Rainbow thinking that they were being cowardly. Applejack took the reins of their argument. She acknowledged Twilight's points, saying that they were valid worries and should not be forgotten, but that their situation was dire. They were stranded on low clouds, with no food or water (and already empty stomachs) and no perceivable way to get home anytime soon. They were simply running out of options - though they did come to an agreement. Twilight would continue to work on the spell until tomorrow. If there was no progress made, then they would seek out the aid of the creatures on the surface. Twilight wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but the rest of the group were somewhat content. And so, Twilight went back to work.
Darkness fell and the moon rose, and nothing she tried with the spell would give her a desirable result, and before she knew it, the sun was rising of its own accord. The sun - she couldn’t help but notice – stayed for only a very short time, and was already on the verge of setting before anypony stirred.
Scootaloo awakened groggily, her eyes still drooping, and stretched out her limbs and wings, shivering as a strong, cool breeze ruffled her mane and feathers. She looked over to Twilight who was still hard at work on the scroll, her head being propped up lazily by her hooves. Wanting to see what the key to going home actually was, she trotted over to her and lay down next to her. She found herself transfixed by the scroll, gazing in wonderment at it, the magical symbols and glyphs scrawled on the parchment captivating her. She just really thought they looked cool. When Twilights face became buried in the cloud below her, she began mumbling to herself, illegible through the muffling of the cloud; though from the tone of it, this was probably for the better. Such things shouldn’t be heard by children after all. Scootaloo gently nuzzled her side, saying,
Suddenly, she fell through the cloud, the change in air pressure making her lurch forward, nose diving. The snow was coming down hard and fast once again, and it had finally eaten at the cloud they were on, thinning a few areas just enough that they looked perfectly fine, but would give way if stood on. Scootaloo was unlucky enough to do just that. Hearing her scream out, Twilight dashed next to the hole, trying to catch her in a levitation spell before she fell from sight, but she was already swallowed by the perpetual white bellow.
Chapter 3: Rough Landings
The young teenager was lazily making his way through the frozen miniature landscape. He was a little miffed at having to come through here, having missed his usual bus and needing to take a different one. It wasn’t the safest place to be; it was right next to the old housing, where most of the… wrong crowd, tended to take up residence. So he was lazily making his way through due to being quite tired, but made sure to remain alert enough to see if anyone wanted to have a piece of him. Then again, no one would have been able to see him anyway. The snow was coming down thick and furious, the wind screeching as it tossed his hair - and himself at times – every which way it could think to toss him.
“Bears have the right bloody idea…” He was somewhat dressed for the weather at least. He had a heavy narrow jacket which revealed a midnight black body warmer beneath (which the snow stuck to like Velcro), which concealed his school top. He wore black school trousers and black boots. He didn't mind wearing all black, but it was his school's choice uniform.
Taking his hand out of the comfort of his jacket pocket, he shielded his eyes from the continual barrage of snow, and titled his head up to see how far he could, before the snow began ravaging his eyes once more. As he neared his limit, he saw through the snow the faint outline of something. He though it was a plane but found himself discarding this thought, as it was much too close… and appeared to be falling fast towards him.
He came to a gradual stop a dozen feet or so away from where he was. He lay there for a moment, collecting himself before saying,
Throwing his bag on (stumbling as it shifted him forcefully); he began to quickly make his way to the newer, more comfortable looking houses; he began making his way home.
****
Scootaloo felt it was best if she remained quiet, the lessons about stranger danger Cheerilee had given the class finally being put to use. She did feel a bit disappointed that she could not comply with the most basic rule: stay away from strangers, but she was content in the jacket wrap, tucked closely to the creature's chest - It was warm, comfortable and snow free. Despite this, Twilight’s words of warning still echoed lightly in her mind. Her warnings that these creatures might in fact be violent was making her tense, making her realise that her current position, was one that didn’t allow her to get away easily, if at all. She could only hope that it didn’t have any malevolent intent.
“Fucking thieving scum, absolutely everywhere.” He grumbled as he put more distance between himself and the would-be mugger. He knew these sorts of people; he had lived around them all his life, so he had figured out how to disarm most situations with them; remain calm and talk in a social manner, slipping back into his towns’ accent. It brought them both to the same level, and he knew it was easier to talk someone if you are not flaunting over them.
Making quick work of the rest of the journey to his home, he shuffled through an exposed pocket in his jacket and pulled out a set of keys as he approached the front door (painted white with a peep hole at the top). After going in and locking the door behind him, he peeled away the protective jackets from the small for of Scootaloo and hung them over the nearby radiator. Scootaloo took in her surroundings. There was a living room to the left as they entered the home with two comfortable looking fabric couches and a good sized TV almost hidden by the open door. Leading off from it was a dining room with a large table, the varnish making it gleam in the light. Back in the hallway, there was a set of stairs leading to the upstairs landing, but the hallway continued into the kitchen, which is where they headed next. The kitchen itself was split into two areas – a cooking area to the right, and a dining to the left. The dining area had a door (which she presumed led to the actual dining room) and a smaller, circular table tucked into the corner. Furthermore, leading off from the kitchen, there was a conservatory with a few couches and a good sized garden.
He pulled plopped Scootaloo onto the table and pulled out a seat in front of her as she sat on her haunches.
The only thing that had kept Scootaloo from the degrading fact that she was now being bathed by some strange other worldly creature, was that it felt strangely pleasant. She had felt a bit uncomfortable having so much mud matted to her fur – though she was usually not one to bother – and she was glad to have it removed in such a…pampering fashion. She would never admit this either, and certainly didn’t show it, as she sat there on her haunches with a rather ‘Less-than-impressed’ expression on her face. The being just snickered.
Her mind stopped as he sighed in disbelief, and simply began cleaning them more thoroughly.
“Well, you certainly look cute when you’re all fuzzy.” Scootaloo had been taken out of the sink, wrapped in a towel and taken up stairs. She was covered in darkness as the towel continued to rub her down, drying her off, before revealing the much fluffier form it had caused. Chuckling lightly, the creature patted her down as she took in her new surroundings. The room was dark, but not to the point where you couldn’t see, just a sunset light. The room itself felt somewhat small, but comfortable. It was painted white, but was faded somewhat with age and had several red stains in several places. The room was furnished with a few items. There was a lass table near the entrance (so much so that you might jab yourself if you entered unprepared to jump) with multiple objects on top of it, mostly papers and strange rectangular devices made of plastic, some with wires coming from the front of them to odd looking controllers. The floor had a cream carpet and was also looking a little worse for ware, but still comfortable. There was a wardrobe to her right and the most of the left wall was made of a window, the glass having black checker pattern streaks. There was also a small bedside table made of the same material the wardrobe was: dark pine with a dark varnish: Pleasant. “There we go, sorted.” He took a seat on the pillows at the end of the bed and reached under the bed, pulling out a slim, large device that lit up when he opened up the device. “I really need to turn the brightness on this laptop down… there we go. Now, let’s see if-“ A crash from downstairs stopped him, and his friendly demeanour changing entirely; his face turned flat, calculating, and his movement no longer casual and lazy, turned fluent, practised, precise. The laptop was flung under the bed and his hand was in the top drawer of his bed side table. Scootaloo gasped loudly as a large, sharpened knife was drawn from the formerly innocent looking furniture. This struck it home; this situation was serious, and her new friend knew there was danger.
She was taken by surprise as the covers were deposited on top of her head. They parted briefly to show the creatures face as he whispered,
Her new friend was standing by the room door, knife held expertly ahead of him. He kept his breathing steady as he listened to the intruders coming up the stairs. There are… a lot - six, maybe seven. The footsteps are pretty fucking weird thou… maybe they are trying to confuse me? Bah, forget it. Getting his thoughts back into order, he steeled himself once more. He finally hears their voices.They are a bunch of bloody amateurs. What the hell do they think they are doing breaking into my house? How should I deal with them…? He formulated his course of action quickly as they got to his side of the landing and the only other room left. He pressed his ear to the door, feeling his pulse begin to quicken slightly as his blood was saturated with adrenaline.
There was a squeak. And then a creak as the door handle was slowly lowered. It wasn’t loud enough for Scootaloo to hear, but she saw her friend tense up, his face showing his brain running the numbers, so she hid.
Finally he saw that the door handle was as low as it would go. He heard muttering.
In front of him stood the six friends, all of which wore expressions of shock and anger, with no exception to Applejack, who was glaring at him and blood flowed from the slash across her face which had just missed her left, arcing smoothing over it. Acting on impulse, she swiftly turned herself and put all her weight onto her front legs, raising her hind legs high in the air.
Just as realisation flashed across his eyes, she bucked with the kind of force that known for – and then some. There was a sickening, crunching sound as her hooves connected with his chest, an all imposing sound that refused to quiet down as it seemed to echo off the walls of the room, so it had to be smothered. The force of the impact sent him soaring into the glass table, the sounds of metal squealing as it was violently twisted and torn, glass shattering and piercing him, all the knick-knacks on the table following around him and the 'thunk' and crack of the TV falling on his damaged chest with the subtle undertone of his cry of pain, announced the silence that followed.
Using the lull to her advantage, Twilight entered the room and quickly found a horrified Scootlaoo standing on the bed, mouth open as her young mind tried to process the quick change in events. She didn’t even notice that she had been ferried out of the room (through levitation) until they were at the top of the stairs.
Their eyes opened wide and their mouths gaped as they stared at the figure with disgust at what they saw, and with pity that what they saw had happened at all.
The creature emerged slowly from the room, using just his arms to carry his body across the vast plain of the landing. His clothing was ripped and spotted with holes, revealing bloodied and bruised flesh beneath, and un-natural mix of blue, purple and crimson, littered with sprinkling of glass, shards both large and small, all painful in their own right. Most concerning however, was not the disfiguring of his nose –snapped out of place by the TV - or the angle his right leg sat at – broken out of place by the sturdy frame of his table -, it was his breathing. There was a disgusting gurgling sound every time he took another shallow, fast breath. There was another disturbing choking sound every time he inhaled just that little bit harder. It sounded wet. Pulling up in front of the staircase, he never even notice the line of ponies as he turned himself round onto his back, crying in pain as he relieved his arms of his weight and made the glass in his back eat and shred away at his flesh, making the sticky red liquid run down the stairs, despite the ever hungry carpet. He reached and grabbed one of the larger shards of glass that had somehow made residence in his chest, and pulled, scrunching his eyes as the pain tried to stop him. It didn’t. Discarding the shard (5 inches), he pulled apart the hole if had left in his shirt and examined his chest.
His ribs were blatantly broken. They caved in at awkward angles, making his chest comparable to a picturesque mountainous valley. With one on the right reaching high above the others, having torn free of the skin that had kept it so neatly contained before, glistening in the light from above, red pouring down the bone. Not quite a mountain. Despite himself, his breathing rate increased rapidly as he brought quivering hands to the bone. The faces on the three that had remained went from horrified to ill as they looked away just before the resounding crack permeated house. This time, nothing smothered his scream. They didn’t dare look. They didn’t want to. But was he okay? Is he even alive after that? They looked. They wished they didn’t.
He was shaking violently all over, his limbs having their own will as they twitched violently. They hadn’t even noticed the colour gradually draining from him, but it was too obvious now. The blood just kept on coming out from his chest like a water fountain. No, those are grand things that shoot out water, this was like one of those pathetic little one that you would keep in the house. But just the same, it sent shivers down the spines of all who witnessed it.
He knew he was done for. He had tried to reach a phone, but he couldn’t. He hoped that he would have been able to survive this ordeal, just like the last, and the one before that, and before that and… But it seemed he had finally rolled snake eyes.
No.
He wasn’t ready to throw himself to reaper just yet. Hoping that he may be able to make it to the phone at the bottom of the landing, he rolled over and tried to pull himself over the thresh hold of the stairs.
He couldn’t. The energy was flowing out of him, being drunken by the carpet bellow him, the ever greedy carpet… his vision was going, but he was determined…determined to not lose, not now.
It wasn’t to be. His cold hands wouldn’t respond any more. His eyes rolled back, and the last thing he saw before the cold dark took over, was a yellow blurry smudge, coming towards him…
I wonder if anyone is tolling the bells... And the darkness came.
Author's Note
Edit (28/8/13): So unhappy with the chapter now looking back on it...I might re-write some of this - that end scene comes especially...we'll see.
Chapter 4: Comatosed Minds...
Everything was very lucid, not quite as it should be. He felt, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he was. It truly felt like floating (didn’t it?), floating in a liquid world where there was no real need to do anything, no real desire to do anything. No need to move… no desire to know the ‘how-s’ and ‘why-s’ of the world around… no need to bother the mind with any though or question at all. Even the most natural act of breathing itself felt, mundane and unnecessary – unwanted almost, as it tried to destroy the complete serenity of where he found himself now.
This felt alien and bizzar to him. Unwanted, undesired. It stirred in him – ironically, it stirred in him the closest thing to actual fear he had ever felt. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but be amused by this: considering the world he lived in, this – peacefulness – frightened him?
He didn’t like this feeling…not just the fear, but the feel of the place: Too peaceful. Too much like the ultimate goal to be real.
No. It wasn’t like the ultimate goal. This was dark. Black. Unnatural. He didn’t like the feeling of…lacking, that this place seemed to thrive on, to feed of off. The air around him pulsed like a heartbeat, constricting him, trying to force him to not breath, to stop violating the world with his life.
He tried to move. He had to get out of this unseen force before it began to work.
He couldn’t move. Something was binding him, outside of the pulsing, which tried to squeeze the life from him. It pulsed again. It didn’t like him much. He tried again, putting as much of his will into moving his arm as he could. Was his arm burning? Was that a bead of sweat running down his face? He couldn’t tell. This place was keeping things like that from him. This place scared him a little. He continued to push – or was he? No, he could feel a build-up in his mind, telling him he was doing something. Something…at least he knew that. Something was comforting – it meant that he could at least feel, and this knowledge fueled him.
There it was: movement. Slight, almost invisible to the eye, but his mind recognised it. Movement. With it, a few other sensations began to form, as if traversing the obstacle of movement opened the gate to more movement. He could move his arm freely now - and his other now! Now his legs too. The movement brought its own sensations too; the feeling of touching something soft… fabric. But they were dull… as though being muted… only a ghost of the true feeling.
He realised he couldn’t open his eyes. The world pulsed, forcibly pushing the air from his chest, and blood from his arm. He revelled in the feeling of the warm substance flowing down his arm, even though he knew what it meant, he couldn’t help but welcome the new sensation of warmth. River hadn’t even realised he was cold. He forgot to breath. He felt air being forced down into his lungs. Where had that come from? He felt pressure at the bleeding wound. More pressure. The bleeding stopped.
Were there two forces? One: trying to kill him, another... fighting for his survival? Were they aware of each other? The world pulsed again, removing his breath once more. It was replaced by the other force - again. What was going on?
Voices He thought, No, one - maybe two. Two, mostly just the one though. He could hardly hear it. It was faint, but it was there. He couldn’t make out what it was saying, but it sounded exhausted, desperate – concerned. Was it one of the forces? Which one was it? The world pulsed violently, shaking in rage that the intruding life had not been removed – it could hear him breathing and it hated the sound. His whole body was wrapped in pain: his new found movement allowing him to convulse in pain – not a lot, not enough to offer any kind of relief.
“Oh no.” The words were plain and simple, but they were heard. The voices went back to its muffled un-clarity, but that was at least one question answered – the voice was trying to help him. His elation was quickly destroyed as the pain quickly asserted itself once again. It wasn’t very hard to do when the entire force of the world around you was trying to do so.
This place wasn’t anywhere close to the ultimate goal. This place was evil.
It was tranquil…peaceful.
No! I have to remember… this isn’t…safe. I. Am not safe. Think damn it, think, what is this…place? He began thinking intently, forcing his mind to work through the haze. Its protests fell on deaf ears, (I just had another argument with myself) and he eventually – after what felt like several days - found something of note. The something was a theory on what the person in a comatose state might ‘see’. The theory stated that the person might be in their own mind, essentially sifting through memories and feeling until they woke up. He adapted the theory to his situation and it made sense. The sensations could be what my physical body is feeling… the pulsing…and pain could be me…dying? My chest was pretty badly destroyed after all. The…helpful one…a nurse maybe? Okay, this doesn’t help me wake up . He debated mentally for some time, trying to remember if there was anything he had stumbled across that might help him now.
'No' was the simple answer to that. He needed to figure this out on his own.
His eyes. He tried to open them, but it felt like trying to lift two great lead slabs, the kind that would keep the most valuable treasures locked away for an eternity. His gut spoke out; it was telling him that opening his eyes would lead him to the waking world. Non to chuffed at the idea that simply being unable to open his eyes was keeping him in a comatose state, he re-doubled his efforts, desperately trying to pry open his eyes. It simply wasn’t working, they were refusing to budge. Maybe it would be best if - the thoughts of doubt were demolished as light burst into the abyssal darkness, lighting the candle of hope in him. It was just a slit, a measly crack, but it was enough to force him onward, pushing his eyes open more and more, a fraction at a time, the world of shadows almost screaming and writhing around him as it was banished.
Elation filled him finally as the light spilled into the darkness, throwing him back into the world of awareness and life, but not before all his memories flooded him in one fell, crippling swoop. He felt sorrow again. And again. And again. And again…
Chapter 5: Awkward Second Encounter
Fluttershy collapsed, a loud thud dispersing the surreal silence of the room for a moment before sighing in relief, stretching out her tired limbs before again sighing in content, realising that this was the first time she had been able to really take a break for the past week.
Being Ponyville’s unofficial veterinarian, she had dealt with a lot of patients with a wide range of injuries, from a small mouse that had broken its leg to a bear with back problems.
But nothing like this - nothing with such extensive injuries or such strange, though interesting design. If she were asked what her most difficult case ever had been, she would have had to definitely say ‘that strange bipedal creature we almost killed when we went to that other universe.’ The damage was so extensive that she was unsure for the first time that her knowledge and healing ability was going to be enough to save him, and being away from all of her supplies didn’t help this. Though, (“by Celestia, he has a hospital in this cupboard!”) the kitchen revealed to them many wonders, mainly the fact that it seemed he had raided a hospital and stashed the loot in an unfortunate cupboard, which looked like it was going to need to stretch out to fit everything in it.
This discovery – along with Twilight’s newly founded medical spells – were the only things that gave him a remote chance at surviving. And he did…but to say he was walking a thin line was an understatement. He was walking on a firing line, lined with broken glass, blackened from the blood of past victims.
Things were initially a whirlwind of confusion and feverish activity. Everypony was doing something to help after being coaxed into it by the unusually commanding Fluttershy, ranging from finding those medical supplies to moving him to his room and generally being helpful by staying out of the way or moving supplies to the Twilight and Fluttershy who were casting spells and bandaging as though they were racing each other.
As she looked back at it, she realised that it was Twilight who had one of the most difficult things to do in all of surgery, especially for someone who had never practised medicine: she had to remove bone fragments from the lungs. She had to use a spell to isolate and ‘disintegrate’ them, but any slip up in this process could have been fatal. She didn’t tell her this until after the fact though, after all, she didn’t want to put her under more pressure…though she did nearly faint from the stress anyway.
However, after the initial drive to save him, an argument quickly broke out between the group members. On one side of the argument were Applejack, Rainbow, Rarity and Pinkie who were trying to persuade Twilight, Scootaloo and Fluttershy to leave. The argument got pretty heated, Dash saying that it was simply far too dangerous to stay there, taking the incident much more to heart than any of the other ponies.
It was an exhausting hour for the two of them. After getting him breathing the first time, he had a heart attack and then decided to stop breathing again. This would be the first of the many exhausting hours that would come that week, but needless to say, the argument was won in their favor.
After that things fell into a routine, of sorts. Fluttershy would spend most of her time looking after him, with some help from Twilight whenever she was needed. Rarity would have her O.C.D kick in at times and would leave rooms spotless in under half an hour. Applejack, Pinkie and Scootaloo really just hung around, cooking for everypony when a meal came around and spent the rest of their time discussing anything that seemed relevant. Dash spent a lot of time in the air, more so than she did on the ground. The others weren’t sure what she was doing but every time that she came back she seemed to be hiding frustration – though somewhat poorly. Having said that, she wouldn’t talk about it and would quickly try to change her tone whenever she saw any of them, trying to be like her normal self. The others just shook it off as Dash being moody.
That day was only different for Fluttershy, who was enjoying the break. In fact, she was enjoying so much that she never even felt her eyes getting heavy, and sleep taking her. The sleep itself was surprisingly peaceful; a dream of being home and being greeted by a mass gathering of her animal friends greeted her with open arms. Despite this, she was never a heavy sleeper, and a sound roused her. It was slight, barely rearing its head before dissolving to silence again, but it was enough to break the silence that had blanketed the room, except for the slight snoring from Fluttershy. She raised her head as she looked over the room, trying to find the source of the noise.
There it was again, it was from behind her. It came from the creature. She was on her legs immediately, tensing slightly and ready to bolt out of the room at the slightest movement. But he didn’t move. Only his mouth, very slightly as he murmured something before resuming his motionless slumber. It seemed sort of robotic the way only his mouth would move.
Curiosity overwriting her normal timid nature, she kneeled up on the bed and put her ear next to his, her mane tumbling onto his face sloppily. It took a minute this time, but he eventually muttered something that confused her slightly. Most of it was illegible, but she was able to understand a few words:
Their eyes connected, surprisingly similar in colour, if his only being a touch darker. The similarities ended there. Fluttershy had always been a reasonably good judge of character, and one that she knew you tell character, was through someone’s eyes. Her eyes were big, soft an innocent, the kind that you could trust. His eyes on the other hand were dark, they had not the light in them that could be associated with someone who had love and joy in him. They were glazed and hardened from tough years, and showed experience and wisdom that should not be in someone his age. It was chilling to see this in what she ultimately saw were a child’s eyes. Strangely however, instead of seeing anger and a desire to harm her, she instead saw curiosity, a bit of suspicion and uncertainty. They were both intimidated by their situation.
Summoning her courage a bit (a lot) she said the first words.
He stared at her blankly for a moment before it hit him that a horse had just spoken to him. There was a very awkward silence in the room for about a minute before the room door burst open, Twilight trailing with an adrenaline needle levitating next to her.
After a minute all those who wanted to be in the room to hear what was to happen were present. Funnily enough, it happened to be those who were already present. Rarity had the feeling that things of a rather ugly nature were going to be talked about, so she didn’t want to hear any of it, so she took Scootaloo back down stairs, and Pinkie just said “Oh it’s fine, I wouldn’t want to scare him with all my over the top antics and personality.” Twilight closed the door at this point and turned back towards the creature, taking lead of the conversation.
He had to summon a lot of mental control to keep himself losing his poker face and erupting into laughter. ‘For fucks sake, they are having me on? Right? Wow…right, okay. Try and find out as much as you can. Could be interesting after all. ’So, you see me as an animal do you Fluttershy? ’ he thought, not sure if he should be offended or not.
He detailed to them some basic history, telling of how a few things came to be, the world wars and the general violence that followed. Needless to say, they were shaken, even Dash’s seemingly unwavering scowl was drooped at the corner, her eyes widening at the ease that he could talk about such things. If she were to even think of all those bodies, she would be sick… she had to imagine them.
“Now, that was over one hundred years ago. We were recovering, prospering, life was getting better. We still had our wars, but nothing on the scale of those two. Things in the world as a whole seemed to be improving - Until around 2016. On October 12th, the state of Alabama was ravished by a large explosion near the states capital, Montgomery. The explosion originated from the largest nuclear explosion to date, decimating the state, destroying half of the land in an instant and rendering land as far as neighbouring states radioactive to this day. The area is so large; it looks like a glow stick burst open over the earth when viewed from space. This incident brought to the front of all media a message from companies, that people were simply too dumb to work effectively, or had no work ethic and done things as sloppily as possible. The governments of the world got together and decided to introduce something called the “IQ Card”. The card, as you may imagine, shows your tested level of intelligence, as well as your grades and what-not. It soon became so that you have to have a certain IQ or higher to do a certain job. However, the levels were set simply too high for too many years, an in 2022, global riots struck out. There wasn’t a place on earth where there weren’t riots, and like bacteria in a dish, the rioters multiplied, and the anger growing stronger as defence forces were overwhelmed, even with the use of lethal force.
“The government eventually relented, slacking the IQ restrictions a bit, and it was enough to quell the active riots, but no one is happy. No one. Only those fucking bastards up top where they had to rake in the fucking money with a bulldozer- or a fleet of them. But it wasn’t long ‘till all that unrest boiled over again. Gangs, they were the backbone of the initial unrest. People didn’t feel right simply walking out into the streets with no banner behind them. So, they turned to gangs. Mainly, “The Left Hand of God” and several others. By the end of the ‘civil unrest’, it was estimated around 46% of all people were involved in some gang or another. The gang culture continued to grow and flourish, unabated by the weed hackers that were supposed to be the world’s governments. This was a grave mistake by all. By 2025, the attention on gangs was immense. The sheer amount of advertisement from minor graffiti to managing to sneak on actual TV broadcasting stations and advertise their message, was getting a lot of attention, and by 2025, it was estimated that 61% of all world populace, were part of gang culture. The specifics varied in each country, but in the former USA, it was roughly 76%. Seeing that they had the numbers, “The Left Hand of God” struck in America, taking four states in couple of days. The armies were sent in, but the sheer numbers right across all of the states, was too much for them, and they called in their allies to help in the fight. They weren’t the only one. “The Left Hand of God” had made itself one or two allies of its own in countries that shared certain goals with them, so they pulled in their allies. In the end, World War 3 erupted, all fought on American soil. For a time.
The gangs were not only present in America. Like a parasite, they had managed to amass large amounts of members in key countries and allies including the United Kingdom, Europe and China. They struck, and to be able to contain their own problems, they had to remove all of their armies from the US, and this left them up shit creek without a paddle. Most of the States have fallen by this point. Only three remain, and they all have agreements with them…though they are breaking down. The desire for nukes is strong in the US. What else to say? Governments have been doing deals with the gangs for many years now, their power is only there because the gangs allow it, at least it is certainly the case for most members…”
“Death toll? Well, I am surprised you asked. Are you sure you want to know…? It is maybe only a number, but the way you lot acted… Alright, I never said you lot wimps. The amount injured throughout the entire World War 3, was 3.82billion - All suffering from wounds that ranged to broken bones to violent mutations. The total dead was 2.23billion. Almost all of the world’s population was either killed or injured. If there is one thing that we humans are good at, it is killing each other. We do it like no other; nothing can even hold a fucking stick to what we can do to each other.”
They all just stood there, gasping from the horror that was presented to them. Fluttershy couldn’t even brake down in the tears she wanted to spill at hearing of the extensive suffering, she was shocked into place. Twilight was the one to voice herself first.
There was a hot silence as the three friends looked between Dash and River, trying to clock exactly what happened and whose side they should take should they need to. They didn’t need to thankfully as River got to his feet – ignoring the pain as he did so – and took off downstairs after saying: “You can all stay here if you want. It’ll be a stretch to provide for you all, but I’ll manage to do it. I can also keep you all safe and away from people – the government will not find you in my house. However, if you decide to go, I recommend going north to the hills if you can. Resources will be more plentiful there and there is a slimmer chance of you being discovered, but be wary of military operations and gang smuggling activity, it is very abundant up there. Less people, you know.” They turned to Rainbow as groans and sharp creeks could be heard coming from the bottom stairs.
Rarity and Pinkie thundered up the stairs like the like the flames of hell were after them, dragging a rather startled Scootaloo along for the ride. River being down the stairs had startled them, it seemed. Despite this, the votes were cast and the decision was unanimous, despite the slight fear in the air about, they were confident that all would be well. He came upstairs again with a cheese sandwich in hand, his second, chewing on it vigorously: he never realised how hungry he was.
Auther note: I simply must apologise for how long this chapter took. The quality does not reflect the time taken, and for this I must also say sorry for. But, the next chapter should be out sooner than this one. Thank you all.
Author's Note
Edit (28/8/13): ...my God...it's worse than I had ever realised...it...it's so bad! It...it's a monster!
Chapter 6: A Civilised Conversation
“So, how long I am going to be bed ridden?”
“Why were they having a meal at nine at night? Never mind - not important.” River sat at the spare desk he had pulled out from the room where Twilight was now spending the night, the library area of the house. He was sitting on his swivel chair, leaning as far back as it allowed him tossing a small blue rubber ball up and down, deliberately catching it with the same hand each time. He reached out to the drink he had poured himself but stopped himself with a sigh and went for a green ball on the desk instead, adding it into the mix, still only using the one hand.
Author's Note
Edit (28/8/13): Oddly enough, not my least favorite chapter. It has a few mistakes that could be combed out, but as a whole there is nothing bone brakingly bad here...I think.
Chapter 7: Rules Broken, Amends Made
It was remarkably warm for a winters day - bright sunlight had completely dried the damp roads and pavements, even going so far as to warm the very breeze that ruffled the grass and spread a fresh scent through the dreary streets as the people went through their routines, buying groceries, working, playing and harming.
10:30 was a very established time. A time where things had already been set in motion - which always made River feel a little odd whenever he wasn’t doing anything, or worse, found himself bored.
Not that day however. He was much too…grouchy. Twilight had tried to go into his room around nine to announce breakfast, but she slowly closed the door upon seeing River. He had sat there all night, and it was obvious. His hair was frazzled; his face had odd twitches, his foot tapped rapidly as he tried to keep himself awake. His eyes were wide, sore, staring dead ahead of him as he juggled several balls of various colours with one hand, his eyes resembling the red ball a bit too closely to be healthy. Not to mention he was breathing as though he were barely containing a cry of furstration. Rainbow Dash, who had just left her room with a bit of a cocky grin, stopped when she happened to glance at Twilight’s face as she closed the door..
River himself was not truly aware of the passage of time or even the interruption that had occurred - he was focused. He had tried to sleep, but it did not come to him, even in his bed. His mind had been so invaded with questions and doubts and solutions and counter arguments, that his mind was comparable to a government body: irritating and chaotic.
A very loud noise, akin to that of an explosion, pulled Rivers attention, just enough for him to realise something wasn’t right. Then the shockwave hit his house, buffeting the reinforced glass of his bedroom and the loud gust of air smothered the sound of his thoughts, blowing them out of sight and out of mind. He immediately threw himself to the ground, the balls dropping around him as he quickly shuffled directly under the windowsill, pulling out a carefully concealed handgun from behind the radiator. He looked up out the window however when something seemed amiss...
Colour. A rainbow of bright, vibrant colour poured into his room, bringing the walls to life as the colours bled and swam. He rose to his feet and gaped at what he saw outside the window: An explosion that displayed the full full beauty of the light spectrum pooled out among the clouds. A large disk of Rainbow light dominated the sky right across from his neighbourhood and beyond, gracefully rippling like a pebble drop in the sky, with a rather conspicuous rainbow line coming from the middle.
“...What in the hay did you think you’re doin’?!”
Neither of them noticed River quietly vault the stairs banister and move into the doorway. The rest of the group eyed him nervously, especially Twilight who was pawing at the ground as she saw the anger etched in his eyes. It was almost like a madman, except he was trying to hold back a little. Just a little.Do Ah really want to leave Rainbow with this…? Alright, I’ll listen in at the door, and step in if Ah have to. ' Trying to get a handle on her nerves, she spoke up.
She closed the door cautiously before pressing her ear right up against door - followed immediately by all of her friends, squashing her.
The thunk from the door was the only sound in the kitchen for some time. Nearly two solid minutes passed as Dash (who was on her hooves and bore a straight face) gazed at River, waiting for him to make a move. River himself stood there motionless, eyes trained on Dash, soaking in every detail they could; her recently frazzled mane, her slightly nervous posture but that bold defiant (irritating) look in her eyes. He slowed his breathing as he began to speak in the same tone as before, but emphasising the glaswegian words to their fullest.God I hate speaking like this... ’ He hung his face for a moment before twisting a table chair around and sitting down.
From behind the door her five friends could tell the air was hot already. The silence was worse; they could feel their pulse in their ears as they pressed harder against the wood, desperate to hear any details they might be missing. All except Fluttershy of course, who had backed off to give the others room.
The silence quickly began to bother the blue Pegasus, turning her expression into a snarl.This one is really pushing it, but I think I can work with what she just said…maybe if I try this .’
He began to explain what he had hypothesised with Scootaloo the night before, that it wasn’t really him that was the source of her anger. She immediately tried to tune out, but he seemed to have a way of noticing whenever she was not taking in whatever he was saying, and would stop in his tracks each time, forcing her to listen.
As he kept going however, he found he no longer needed to stop. Rainbow was actually listening intensely, drinking in his words and seeing sense in them. And as she thought about it rationally (though she loathed admitting it) he did seem to be correct. It made her wonder herself how she did not see it. Every time she flew, she would see more cruelty being committed, and every time she looked at River after that, she disliked him even more.
“I won’t deny that you are probably annoyed at me for trying to cage you. I have a strange feeling that you are a bit more of a free spirit – doing what you want when you want kinda gal.” She smiled a little at this, but to say it was melancholy would be to say the least of it. She felt like an ass. Realising that she had been taking her irritation out on River, well, got her down. “Hey, what’s the matter hen?” She lifted her eyes from the ground to him, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw genuine regret in her eyes and voice.
River chuckled heartily at the slapstick as he rose to his feet. The ponies expressed their slight irritation to Dash as River entered the conservatory and rummaged behind one of the couches, his entire front half buried behind it as he muttered illegible obscenities, searching for his prize. It took just enough time for the search to become annoying but he rose up with his bounty in hand.
****
As instructed, twenty minutes later, Rainbow Dash nosed open the door after being invited in and closed it gently behind her. She walked into the room proper and saw River sitting on his bed, his face hidden by his long wavy hair as he leaned over the smoking soldering iron.
She hesitated for a moment, but placed her limb in his grip. He took her hoof gently in both hands and cupped it softly in his hand, making a ring around it with his thumb and fore-finger.
He swiftly went back to his work, concentration filling his features once again, smoke slipping through the gaps in his hair. Though, after only a few moments the black smoke stopped slithering into the air and he opened his top drawer, pulling out a scalpel and then vibrant gold thread and needle from his middle drawer.
Dash raised an eyebrow at the items but made no comment, deciding instead to stay silent and not put him off his work. He was about to place the soldering iron down but jerked his arm back at the last second, putting it onto the marble slate instead and then both to the ground. Her head tilted slightly in puzzlement.
“It’s very hot you see,” he explained, “placing it on the bed would likely…well, definitely burn the thing.” He glanced up to see her nod in understanding before refocusing his attention once more, placing the sharp needle between his lips. Dash was now able to see what he doing, but wasn’t able to tell what it was he aiming for. She watched as he took the scalpel and began working carefully, guiding the blade through the tough, black leather with a glass maker’s precision and care, licking his lips every time he moved to another part of the belt.
Dash, who would normally have been bored into scuffing her hooves or hovering had anypony been doing the same, was oddly complacent and interested in his actions. It seemed - like his gentle smile - to be a whole new dimension of him. Seeing someone she had not even an hour ago loathed and thought to be nothing more than a brute putting up a facade, sitting down and working on what looked like an arts and crafts project was unnaturally jarring, and thus interesting to her. The strokes of the blade, (short, long, deep, shallow) worked to make his vision a reality, the cool leather beginning to take the shape River desired.
With a final curling cut he placed the scalpel back into his drawer and took the needle between his fingers, and with elegant finesse that would have made Rarity proud threaded it in a smooth, dignified motion. He brought the needle down to the tough leather, lacing it with the golden thread at a speed that would make a sowing machine blush with envy. He worked to embed the belt with gold, his pace giving him RSI but he trundled on, ignoring his wrist’s wails of neglect. He coiled the belt, pursing his hands in a ring shape to match it, marking a spot in his mind before sowing it in place. Finally he cut off the excess belt and added one last final incision. ‘The devil is in the detail,’ she thought as River looked over his creation once more, ensuring its quality.
He placed his tools back into his drawer and took his creation in hand, extending the other to Dash.
He had crafted a custom watch for her. He had taken a digital watch piece of a cool dark blue and cut the straps off soldering the metal body to the leather. As a tribute to his precision and expert skill, the leather looked completely unmarred by the soldering, the metal seeming to blend effortlessly into the leather as though it were there since birth. Even the way it was melted was done with aesthetic flourish; the edges had been pressed in, like a finger mark in clay, burning away the blue to give a glinting silver concave all the way around the watch. The belt itself had had elegant patterns and swirls engraved by the scalpel, and despite their air of sophistication they captured Rainbow’s gaze.
“Oh, eh, if you’re wanting to fly I suggest going and doing so now. Just be back by eleven ten, okay?” Like a child on their birthday Dash’s face beamed. The excitement of her gift had given her a second wind of energy, and a quick glance of the watch revealing she had twenty five minutes, she was hungry to burn it out. She flew out the room and turned down the stairs at break neck speed and was nearly in the kitchen before she hightailed it back, stopping at Rivers room door.
River gave a sigh that he found to be oddly contented as he lay back on his bed proper, sinking into one of the pillows for a moment of luxury before thinking,‘That was a hell of a lot easier than I thought it would be… Well, not that all is well in the kingdom of River, the question still remains – How am I going to keep this lot safe?’
Author's Note
Well then! If it hasn't been something close to a year I don't know what! Thought this was cancled? So did I oddly enough but recently a drive to write has been sparked by the possibility of a new project between me and a good friend. Won't be going up for a wee while now, bu t I figured with that new found inspiration I would go back and fix this up a bit. Yeah, in reality this has been done for...7months? More? But it was so God aweful that I never released it. But here it is now, and I will also be doing chapter 8. But this means this is the last piece of work that will be released in my 'older style' of writing (ie. Shit).
I do have something to ask you, anyone who might see this crappy wee thing; Should I continue this story? I have already agreed to do chapter 8 (I owe to myself even to do that) but should I continue onward from there and finish this thing? If you think yes, or if you think no, I need to you comment - and telling me why you hold the opinion you do would be quite nice also. You know, as a wee bonus?
Ah I'm rambling now. tl;dr? Should I continue this story or not - you decide!
Update: 30mins later - ...okay, more like 15months but still!