A changeling, and its story
Luck was never known to be the strong side of any changeling, but few, if any other had found themselves as unlucky as this one.
After all, who found themselves plunged into a world unfamiliar, and without any resemblence to what one often laid eyes upon. Even Chrysalis' lair was more comfortable than this.
Gas everywhere. Not a single inch of space went untouched and fresh, like he had always remembered it to be. It was tasteless, and only filled his lungs with desire to cough repedetively. Though, it was worse with every one of those metallic boxes coming by, causing this horrid smell. At least, seeing it shoot more out from some sort of end-piece made it believable that it was the source.
But there were bigger worries than metallic boxes trying to choke him with whatever foul creations they made. There was also these... Massive beings, bigger than Chrysalis', whom kicked after him, were frightened or simply ignored him, having their nose in books or newspapers, or some small device that entertained them in manners he couldn't understand. Especially not since it looked like well-shaped rocks, and nothing more.
The scariest part, however, were all these new things. There was no grass. The skies were dirty, and parts blocked out by buildings taller than the biggest tower in all of Equestria. Where was he, and why was he sent here?!?
Hateful beings, tall buildings and fast-moving death causers were all about, and he couldn't seem to escape. One moment, he was falling asleep in his nice little hive, and the other, he was flung into a world with no comfort. All hope was lost, and a well-placed kick from one of the many creatures walking by sent him right into the wall, barely able to still keep his witts about him, as little as it seemed to help him.
"Bug! Massive, icky bug!"
...
He could hear one of them yell, though it was just a faint murrmurr, clouded by his own inability to remain at his best self. The kick hadn't put him out of his game, but he felt it ringing in his head, and as more of those creatures gathered by, in a massive circle, the only thing the poor changeling could do, was to take flight, and fly as fast as he could, barely avoiding various objects flying at him. They may have been superior on the ground, but he could fly over anything that got in their path of his escape.
He didn't know how long he had flewn for, before every last one of the voices, mixes of anger, fear and confusion finally died down completely, though couldn't even see the large buildings anymore, and all he saw, was a few houses below, most in various colors, the place reminding him of a place he'd seen back in Ponyville, before him, his queen, and so many other of his siblings had been flung right back home.
It was a farm-like landscape. No, definitely a farm. He could even hear cows moo, and a dog bark. At least something in this world wasn't stranger than what he was used to.
One, particular house caught his eye, more than the others. It wasn't because it was some sort of castle, it truly wasn't. It looked abandoned, and lost of all hope, with windows covered with planks, not glass, torn down walls, needing a repaint any day now, a door that was practically knocked in, showing a worn-out inside, and various other signs of a lack of anyone having been there for a long time.
Careful not to be seen by any of the neighbors of this old house, he wandered inside through the entrance a door had once blocked up, careful about his steps. The floor was wooden, and he knew how noisy that would be if he just barged in. And the first thing he was met with, when he went into the house, was a hallway, with various openings to either side. It was a pretty large house, with enough space for at least 3 rooms on both sides, counting a choice of 6 rooms total.
There were only 5 which were completely open. The last one, was a door, half-open, leading down into a cellar
Curiosity got the better of him, no doubt, as he wandered past all the other rooms, without even paying so much as a second's worth of attention to them, simply trotting gently down the path he had set out to make it past, to wander down into a new mystery. It was probably, at best, a good hiding spot, were there ever to come new monsters looking for him.
Yes, to him, they were monsters. Horrid, vile beings who desires nothing more than to cause hurt. Who would want to live in such a cruel world?
His only hope was that he'd never be discovered, and that somehow, soon, a portal would open and he could return back to his wonderful queen. At least she had some love for him. Here, he'd starve, and eventually pass away.
The stair was as creaky as an old chair, as he began his decent. It was surprisingly light. There was actually a lot of torches lit down in the basement, a large square room with various pillars to support the roof. He'd care to investigate more, if it wasn't for one particular eyecatching object right in front of him as he finally got down, ignoring everything around himself.
It was a book. Neither thick, nor particularely shiny, though it was red, the only colored object in the otherwise well-lit and gray cellar, stone walls and stone floor, with a wooden roof, forming the floor above his head.. Yet, he felt like he had to open, and read it. Curiosity burned within him, which was why he had even gone down there in the first place. Now he had actually found something worthwhile to do while down here.
Many pages were torn out, and there were only a few still there
Dear diary
I write again today, because my wife left me. First, it was my son, and now she left me. I don't know what I did wrong... I just know I did something wrong. After all, who could ever leave without a reason?
It might have been because she blames me for our son cutting off all contacts with us, right? And that today, he died. We attented to his funeral, and no sooner had we gotten home, than had she bursted right through the door.
He didn't get further into the diary before he heard something behind himself, in a corner a few hoovesteps away. From it, came a man.
Tall, bearded, long hair, and with clothes so ragged he looked like he had been ran down by a pack of rats or something of the sorts. Brown hair and beard, his face hidden behind the mess he had all over his face and head, he was both thin, and his voice, when he first spoke, was frail.
"Hello... There.. Who are you?"
"I... I don't know..."
"Oh... Me neither... I just know I've lived here for quite some time... Days are growing longer, and so forth... I guess it's only some time left befor-"
*Grooooooooowl*
Interrupted by a hungry changeling's stomach, the man started laughing, despite his previous expression, seeming to drown in thoughts, unable to quite comprehence the world in front of himself, his eyes deep and without focus.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, seeming to have regained his focus upon the one in front of himself
"U-Uhm... Yes!" he got as a rather hasty reply.
The man went up the stairs, and no sooner, did the curiosisty make somepony else dive right back into the diary, starting to read.
More pages went missing as he went through the rather thin book, and going through various pages, skim-reading some of them, each time it was talk about his wife, son or both, and how he so desperately missed both of them. Coming to the last page, he decided to read it thoroughly.
Dear diary
It's been years since she left, and he passed away. I don't know how much longer sanity will stay with me. The house is rotting, and I can feel each day seeming a little longer than the last.
I know it's not too long anymore, and I only hope time will be kind enough to let me stay for long enough to... See my son..."
The page was partly torn, and there was ink all over the messy piece of paper, making it easy to see that the man was losing it to insanity.
The paper, though, seemed to have been taken in use recently. In fact, it seemed to have been of yesterday, if not today.
He had barely managed to close the book before he heard the man barge down the creaky stairs, almost surprised that it didn't give in, though he did hear parts of it fall apart after the hasty decent.
The food he had brought was moldy, and it wasn't going to satisfy anyone, and especially not one with such a specific diet.
He approached the plate, sniffing it a few times, before wrinkling his nose, though not so the man could see it. Looking over at the rag of a being, three or four times his own height, he blurted out a sentence he almost regret letting out afterwards, having trouble understanding his own urge to even ask.
"I miss mom"
He finished about as quickly as he had the man encasing him in a pair of arms, pressed tightly. It was a hug, and it felt good, no, great would define it better. It wasn't because of the hunger it felt so great, but because he was left in a world without anyone wanting anything but to cause harm, and here he found one of those whom had at first injured him, to instead hug him, like the man had sympathy for the outcast he felt like.
The hug reassured his resolution on following up with the next question, too scared to ask it at first, barely braving his own gutts to continue it on, now that he felt loved. Somehow, he felt like the mans insanity had distorted the changeling's appearance, and that just maybe there still was hope for him in this world.
"Is it... Alright if I still call you dad?"
"Of course it is, son."
He smiled. Not because he now had all the love he needed, but because he now had a chance of surviving. Loved, at that.
Or so his hopes told him, even after he could taste his own tears as they ran down his cheeks.
There was no affection in the air. No more sound. No more words. No more... Warmth...
He had heard the mans body plump onto the solid basement floor, leaving a large 'Thud'.
The only person whom could ever offer him what he needed died in his very hooves. It was dead silent, except for the few tears that dropped onto the ground.
It was a silent rain in a basement deprived of all hope.
Many hours passed, and he couldn't stop crying, not caring for whether anypony heard him or not. His hope disappeared in his very hooves, and he could only hope that he would join the man soon after, though reality was more harsh than Equestria ever made it out to be.
He had grown exhausted after all those hours, and any liquid left in his body was on the floor, leaving him unable to quite focus on anything, not even the man he had laid himself on top of, both his hooves across the slender body, hugging him tightly.
Voices echoed, and the stair once more filled the cellar with various sounds that made him needy of covering up his ears. Shouts were mixed in a crowd of torches and people, and all he could do, was look at them, his hooves still over the body below. He turned back around, putting his head to the chest of the man.
"I still love you... Dad..."
A well-planted kick to the back of the head, and darkness surrounded his vision, and soon, he no longer saw anything, nor heard or felt. The hunger was gone, and so was everything else.
-End-
Author's Note
This was based on some sort of short-story I heard/Read, and I thought actually deserves a bit more developing, just because the original story actually made me feel the feels. This will be the only chapter until further ado, so at least for now, it is finished. Might edit in a different/Extended ending, but that's probably about it.
PS: The reason the ending went as it went, was because I have always been a sucker for things which kicks me in the feels. It may be strange, but it's who I am.
Very few feel the same way, or can stick with a death through it all, because they'd feel guilt from killing off a character, or want to have a 'Happy' twist at the ending, just to make the story more 'Friendly'.
I even got a grade difference at school for doing something similar. In one story I kill off a character, and I get two grades lower than a story of equal quality, where it had a happy ending, one practically top grade, the other somewhat off.
This is why I am very aware that the story might seem tasteless to most, but I know there are others like me who would have it no other way than it is.
Endings in life are brutal. Stories would be no different.
