Ch. 2 - Stricken

The door opened with a bang, clashing onto the wall supporting it, the knob leaving a small hole. A foot was the culprit, belonging to the supposed owner of the house, who was wearing the docking site’s yellow jacket and dented helmet, sweat drops falling underneath the hat.

As soon of the inside of the abode came into view, the man put his foot down and leaned against the wall, shakily sighing in relief as the stress dissipated from him. Walking inside and towards the kitchen part of the house, the man withdrew a couple of steps to remove the worker helmet and throwing it on the bin nearby, making sure the dreaded things never came in physical or visual contact with him. His face was finally recognizable.

Thank God that’s over with. Approaching the sink, I took out a recently washed glass and filled it with water, drinking the contents in a rush to soothe my dry throat. Filling it once more, I dumped the water on my face in an attempt to rid myself of the sweat building up. It worked for the most part.

Letting the water soak my skin in its cold state, I looked down at the attire loosely draped on my chest. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was wearing clothes underneath I would look like a douchebag trying to attract a woman in heat. The sweat from both mine and its previous wearer made it all the droopier. The jacket looked like it could fit a giant, making its current user to seem like a little person.

Feeling insulted, I tore the jacket off of me and onto the sink. Reaching for the correct drawer, I picked up a box of matches. Lighting one, I tossed it onto the work attire with a flick of the finger, the flames immediately appearing causing me to retract, surprised. I watched with gusto as the jacket continued to burn, changing its color from orange to blue as the cackling of the flames sang like music to my ears.

I momentarily thought of myself as a possible pyromaniac, but the release of stress from the day’s disaster made me not think too much of it.

Moments had gone by and the fire had not settled in the slightest – instead, it went from a light shade of blue to black. My grin faded into a concerned frown, brow raised in confusion and curiosity at the shift. Taking cautious steps closer, he observed the fire; it didn’t create any cackles anymore, it only danced on the little air inside the home. It also seemed to accumulate a pool of liquid of the bottom of the fire.

Having had enough of the burning flame, I took cautious steps to the sink, letting my eyes gaze into the abnormality a bit longer, and reached for the tap. The second his hand made contact with the metal the flame shot tentacle-like arms around the my face, locking itself in a death grip on the back of my head, causing me to scream and accidently tear the tab off its place.

Before I could react, all of the remaining flames turned into tendrils, the blob jumping up lively, plastering onto me, and covering the entirety of my vision in its odd and infinite darkness. In my panicked state, I could feel more tendrils wrapping on my head, tightening its bond, which made me all the more frantic.

Feeling breathless, and without a second thought, I made quick haste as he grabbed an opening on the side where the liquid hadn’t gone through and tried to push it off of him with several restrained grunts, not even thinking about the damage dealt to the furniture that I ran into.

The longer I maintained my position the less resistant the blob became as it slowly but surely detached from me. Seeing the light appear in the corner of my eye gave hope to my soul as I smiled underneath my ‘mask’, doubling my efforts of escape. The sound of tendrils snapping on the back of his head indicated that it was working, the blob screeching in desperation in an attempt to distract its victim enough to gain control again.

I cringed at the sound, the effects of it working as I started to hear a ringing in my ears before they began to bleed. Nevertheless, the two of us were at a standstill; I was using everything I had to take the creature away from my face while my captor went all out to weaken me. Despite its efforts, I was able to cut through the sound barrier, reassuring my dominance over this creature.

With the last of my power, I grunted even louder, ripping it off from me with another push, its screeching growing in intensity, causing us to be at a standstill. If only I could get it to shut its mouth, I would-

A blunt pain sounded from the back of my head, making me surrender my focus as I winced. Before I could question it further, another strike contacted, this one stronger and more aggressive than the first, ensuring its objective as I fell to the ground, all of my senses leaving my body as I entered unconsciousness.

The blob took this opportunity to finish its job, immediately clinging with its hold, filling my vision yet again with darkness, and my mind with sorrow at the loss of my freedom. ‘What’s happening to me?’I thought helplessly, letting the tears freely caress my cheeks.

Soon after, I could feel the tendrils running against the length of my neck, past my torso and wrapping themselves around my legs, effectively enclosing my body in a tight black capsule. I felt my eyelids get heavy, the darkness boosting the unconsciousness. I swear I could hear it cackling.

“Save your energy,” a rough voice sounded near my ear, though in a whisper. “you’re going to need it now more than ever.” With that, I fell in to my comatose state.

<------------------------------->

...Sentient… wake up…

You have to… Sentient… it’s your time...

….

…wake… up…

….

Wake up...

….

SENTIENT.

I jerked up with a gasp, panting heavily as the sudden change of tone caught me by surprise. After realizing I was brought back to reality, I calmed myself from my initial reaction, controlling my breath to a more calm and steady pace, remembering the woman in my dream calling out to, what I presumed to be, me.

Who was she? Where was I? Why was she calling me “sentient”? we’re all questions that I tried to wrap my brain around for the most logical answer, but failed miserably. The simple act of remembering what she said was enough to give me a headache. Thankfully, I shook it off before it got worse.

Pulling my focus away from that, I examined my situation. The bedroom I was in looked nothing my own. The room alone looked like something that belonged to a poor man in a house he made himself while the furniture, though lacking, said otherwise. If it wasn’t for the bed that I was laying in I would’ve confused this with the living room. The bed was big enough for 2 people to sleep on it, pearly white sheets enveloping my lower body in its warm, almost too hot, comfort, large amounts of pillows meeting my back and, consequently, absorving the sweat. According to how damp they were, combined with the same effect on my T-shirt, I’d say I’ve been sweating for a while.

Casting the white sheets aside, I sat on the edge of the bed, inspecting the rest of the room. Purple drapes hung over a large window, shielding my eyes from its blinding light but still lit up the room in its glow. A mirror stood in front of the bed, appearing to be unnaturally infused with the with the wall itself. For a room with so little put in, it sure looked very expensive.

What caught my eye were the walls; faded yellow covered the walls, and it looked like it wasn’t painted. When I set my feet down, I could feel grains of a strange solid substance crumbling from the pressure. Upon looking closer, I saw it was a combination of rock, straw and… sand?

As if today wasn’t weird enough... I thought, confused by the different contrasts of the room. Having had enough, I stood up from the bed and walked to the mirror. Besides the sweat soaked T-shirt, there seemed to be nothing wrong or awry about me. Which was odd considering the fact that I was fucking attacked and abducted with a moving black mass and a frying pan.

Now that I think about it, this doesn’t look like the usual place for a kidnapped victim to be in, it’s way too luxurious for any two-bit criminal to afford, so who the hell brought me here? What happened to the other guy in my house?. And I think I heard his voice through it all.

Feeling the uncomfortableness of the sweaty clothing cramping me, I took it off with haste. As I did so, I heard a gasp and a door shutting from behind me. With the shirt off, I turned to the door, wondering who that was. Someone must have seen me while I was undressing. I'm starting to think I wasn't in fact kidnapped, or if I was then someone must've rescued me.

I called out to whoever that was, but instead of sound, a sharp pain erupted from my vocal chords, causing me to cringe and almost lose my equilibrium. What came out was a roar similar to a tiger roaring in agony. What the fuck was that? I thought, clutching my throat to cool down. I called out again, but the same thing happened only the pain was intensified tenfold making me fall to my knees, gripping harder on the throat, eyes closed shut. Did my vocal chords fry or something? I was fine before all of this. Did they do something to my vocal chords so I couldn't alert anyone?

“Oh dear,” came a soft voice of a woman from the entrance causing me to look up. A horse-like quadruped stood there with a black hoof-like stump to its long muzzle, a concerned look plastered onto its face. It wore a red and orange mantle, covering most of its head and back, draping to its side but I could still see its brown… fur?

I think they call it a coat or a hide or something.

Big bright green pupils gazed worriedly into mine before they turned to its side. “Is it hurt?” she - according to the feminine tone - asked the figure next to her.

Another head popped out from the side of the entrance, this one with dark yellow fur and brown eyes, sporting the same outfit. If I’m not mistaken, this one was also female. “I’m not sure, I came to you when it was removing its clothing.” she said with a slight blush on her cheeks.

The brown one approached me, crouching down to eye level and ran her hooves throughout my whole body, examining the limbs, teeth, eyes and the sort for any kind of ailness. It was probably able to reach my chest with its head, but from my position it had to bent its neck.

All I did was stare, dumbfounded at the fact that there were talking horses right in front of me. They weren’t even normal looking horses; the way they moved, their expressions, their features, everything looked oddly decorous in my eyes, like an artist doing 3D paintings. Oh, did I also mention they can talk?

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him,” she concluded after finishing the… whatever that was. “I think he’s just thirsty from standing in the sun for too long,” she procceded to pinch my cheeks, her tone growing playfully. “Aren’t you, aren’t you boy?”

Boy?! I gaped at her in disbelief. Or at least, I wanted to but her baby talk and hard pinches deformed my face, souring my mood. Lady, last time I checked, 28 years is too fucking old to be a toddler. Hell, I don’t even look young.

Fortunately, the other mare watching us spoke up.”Um, Sierra, I don’t think you should do that,”

“Oh come on, Rain, he likes it.” Sierra, as she was called, said not giving up the slightest as she continued her playful assault by squishing my face near hers, but my annoyed expression held no amusement in her actions and served to prove her words otherwise.

Rain saw this. “I don’t think so,” she turned to look at me then back at Sierra. ”He looks pretty upset to me, and he’s been growling ever since you started.”

I’m… growling? I thought, and sure enough, I noticed a subtle rasping on my vocal chords, causing the so-called ‘growling’. It sounded rougher than my usual grunts or groans back home, and it also had a more animalistic tone behind it. Overall, I kind of liked it but that didn’t make it any more logical.

Sierra waved a dismissive hoof. “Don’t be such a worry-pants, he’s just excited that he wants to play.” she wrongfully informed, intensifying her petting, bringing back the annoyed frown on my face. Woman, I am so close to hitting you.

“Sierra,” the dark yellow mare affirmed, her words growing stern as she gazed at her intensely. “He just got out from being stuck in the desert in the middle of summer for Gaia knows how long. I’m sure that nopony would want to do anything that involved physical strain after that.”

Sierra pouted towards Rain. “Oh fine,” she said, releasing me from her grap, to my relief. She walked over to where Rain was before looking back at me. ”But I’m the one who gets to name him.” she stated, emphasizing her point to with hoof jabbing Rain's chest. This caused me to raise a brow.

Rain nodded. “Alright, but in the meantime, let’s leave him alone so he can get used to his new room.” She said, closing the door behind, leaving me alone with my thoughts. There were too many question forming on my mind for me to focus on a single one of them, so I tried to calm my nerves with deep and slow breaths.

Getting up off the ground, I made to the window, noticing that beyond the outlines shined the sunlight. Moving the curtains away, I cupped a hand to my eyes, shielding me from the blinding sun as I took in the view with my mouth agaped.

Houses made from the same material as this one covered part of the outside; some were in livable conditions, enough to support a couple, while others were run down or had crumbled down to just being debris. Horses, same as the other two mares, occupied the land, all of them with their own unique colour and combination existent in the array of the rainbow to the point where it would be considered intoxicating, talking to one another or running their individual business.

As for the rest, it could simply be described with one word; sand. When Rain mentioned the desert, she wasn’t joking. It’s what covered the entirety of the horizon and the streets which the horses walked on. The clean and clear baby blue skies gave it all the impression that it went on forever.

This brought a single conclusion to my mind. One that pushed through all the other, sending shivers down my spine if the answer I dreaded was the only one. I think there is only one answer to this question, and it depressed me.

I’m not home anymore, am I?

<------------------------------->

The blue stallion groggily opened his eyes as his mind came back to the real world. Blinking away the blurryness of his sight, the first thing he made out was the sunny blue skies above him. As reality slowly set in, Genesis could feel his body, splayed out, swaying slightly to the motions surrounding him. The items on his belt moved much more freely than the stallion, having no restraint - with the exception of the rope keeping them secured - to their movements.

The more he came to his senses, the colder he felt as he started to shiver from the change of temperature. With both of his hooves, he rubbed his chest near the heart to get the blood to circulate faster through his members, not allowing hypothermia to run its course.

He opened his mouth to grunt his frustrations, but instead of displeasure coming out, salty water came in, much to the surprised of the recovering stallion as he coughed out the sour liquid from his throat, causing him to stop what he was doing and stand in an upright position, paddling his hindquarters instinctively when he felt nothing beneath him.

Coughing the last drop of water, he then faced what he was swimming in. The deep blue ocean met him, the bottom below him seeming endless, and the stallion dared not to stop. To his sides, the ocean expanded to the point his every direction in nothing but water. The only thing remotely alive he could lay his eyes on were the fish, swimming ever nearer, curious at their new visitor.

With a bemused look, the pony whipped his mane to get rid of the droplets hanging on the tips causing the sea creature to scurry away, startled. Reaching for his belt, he took out a pouch containing the transportation powder he needed to get around. At least he came prepared for this situation. It had helped him get out of unknown ground before, it would be no different here.

Bringing out of the water and near his face, he watched the black water seep through the cloth, deflating as it did. Realization struck him as he looked down and saw a black trail going from his waist to the surface.

“No,” he desperately tried to gather powder back to the pouch, but the stallion’s frantic movements made the powder escape from his grasp easily. “No, no, nonononononono,” the stallion continued the failed attempts to catch even the tiniest speck. He knew that he had lost the only means to get back home.

Giving up, he threw his forelegs into the air, cursing at the heavens. “FUCK!” he yelled angrily, slamming his legs back down on the surface of the ocean. Smoke rose out of the stallion’s mouth as his irises grew dark in color, his right foreleg following suit.

“Who did this?” he asked nopony in particular, his tone getting raspier as the surface around him boiled.

<------------------------------->

The rustling of the cart was a sound that Chambers was used to, and he would’ve loved it if it wasn’t for the dead human or pony corpses it always carried. That he always carried. This time turned out to be a human. That meant that the cart was larger and heavier than normally.

He looked at his watch for the umpteenth time, noticing the same numbers as before.

14:49 the watch read, just like the other thousand times he checked. Or was it more in the hundreds, he could not remember. The alabaster stallion rolled his dark brown eyes, grunting at the mundane routine as he slumped his head, but the stench from the feet of the dead caused him to wince back up, his combed black mane and tail spiking in every direction.

Fixing the collar on his lab coat and straightening his dishevelled mane, he continued to his destination. When Chambers reached a wall with two parallel ways to go through, he went with the path on the left, like he always did, only this time he felt his cart bump into a familiar face.

“Oh hey Chambers,” the white mare asked, cheerful in her demeanor and her blue eyes. Her light pink tail, graciously drapped down her backside, and mane, tied up in a bun, with a hospital hat on top. Her cutie mark was a red heart, the same imprint as on her hat. She moved out of the cart’s way to allow passage. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Seeing the pearl white mare brought a smile to Chambers’ face. ”Redheart,” he greeted her. “It’s alright. I’m the one who should’ve paid attention to where I was going. Sorry about that.”

“No, I was in the way, so it’s my fault.” Redheart protested.

Chambers sighed. Ever since he resumed his normal life when he got back from the mental institution everypony treated him like a newborn baby, not letting him take his part of the responsiblity for anything he did. It got pretty annoying pretty quickly.

“How about this,” he started, barely hiding his annoyance. “It’s both of our fault. We both are awful at paying attention, we’re both terrible ponies.” his irritation fazed to good-nature as he said this. He was displeased with her reaction, but that was no reason to bum his friend out.

Redheart giggled, ending the topic. She then turned to the body in the cart. “Is this the human that passed away recently?”

“Correct,” Chambers picked up the papers hanging the cart. “Male.Time of death: 14:49. Exactly one day ago. Deep laceration on the trachea courtesy of a kitchen knife, sliced through the jugular. Died from too much blood loss on the operating table. His owner hasn’t been found as of yet, probably doesn’t even know of his condition. Sad.” He listed off everything in the first page of the list.

“Murder?” Redheart questioned, with a raised brow.

“Guards said they found the human holding the crime weapon. It could’ve been planted there or it could be an accident. Not enough evidence to point out the correct option.”

“How old was he?”

“Well, the guys at the lab weren’t able to determine his exact age, as the deciding factors for it weren’t anywhere present in his body, so they had to hazard a guess with the evidence from his skin and bones…” Chambers flipped the page, scanning the answer. “17 years.”

Redheart’s eyes widened at this. “17? Most humans can’t live past 15.”

“Apparently, this one has set the bar for the age limit. It says here that he didn’t even show signs of bad health.” Chambers placed the papers back on the cart. “Everypony in this hospital is still in shock about this fella. I don’t blame them, if I were in their shoes I would faint just from discovering his age.”

Redheart turned to the deceased, feeling sorry for the tragic ending before turning to his carrier. “Why aren’t you surprised by this?”

“After you spent as much time as I did in an insane asylum, you tend to get used to the unexpected, the inevitable and the simply strange. Eventually, they turn into minor inconveniences.” he answered with confidence.

Redheart expression twisted into worry. “I still don’t think it’s healthy to go back to taking care of the deceased ones after a stressful year in a mental hospital.”

Chambers shrugged his shoulders. “This was my job before all the troubles, why should I stop?”

Redheart shook her head, disapproving of his choice of life, but didn’t push it any further. “Ok, I’ll leave to what you were doing. Try not to stress yourself too much, alright?”

Chambers reassured her with a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

With that, they went their separate ways. Redheart going to check on her patients while Chambers drove his cart to the human section of the morgue. Pushing the door open with the cart, he made his way inside, where several metal drawers composed the far wall, all labelled with their individual numbers, all of them with various locks. The dimly lit, cold room sent shivers to anypony that entered it, but as a professional, Chambers shrugged the feeling off, with some assistance from the medicine he took.

As this was the human section of the morgue, the drawers were much larger compared to the pony drawers, able to fit a two humans without the difficulty of forcing them in. Because of this, it left a lot less room for the corpses, which made only a selected few humans to be able rest in peace in them. Those drawers were available to humans with very rich owners or humans with extreme biological conditions used for studies.

Opening drawer number ‘43’ with the respective key, Chambers pushed the human inside with one swift motion. Picking up the papers, he examined it a second time. “Have a good afterlife… Peaches.” Chambers laughed at the pet name. ”I’ll never understand why ponies give humans names like this.”

Vladimir…

Chambers jumped slightly, startled by the voice who spoke in a hushed whisper. Looking back at the entrance to the morgue, he saw nopony standing there. Checking around the room with a furrowed brow, Chambers concluded that he was alone in the room, with dead bodies as the only thing close to company.

Returning to his work, Chambers closed and locked the drawer, stuffing the key in his pocket before he transported the cart back to its station. As he made his way out, he heard the disembodied voice, crying over something he couldn’t figure out.

I was too late… I’m sorry…

Shaking his head, he turned to leave. “It’s not real, it’s all in my head. If nopony else hears it than it’s not real.” The formerly insane stallion recited, the old chant from the asylum still stuck in his head like a child's tongue on a frozen pole. “I need pills.”

As soon as he went out of view, the crying halted, replaced by assurance.

You don’t have to bear the burden anymore… another one is coming…

Author's Note

Well, I lied about the number of words in this chapter. I hope you appreciate it regardless.

The ones the Sebastian met first were actual horses, not ponies. So don't be confused.