MANesfestations Of Equestria

Chapter 7

WTF? A World of Ponies?

The bright night surrounds a field. In the field are a variety of trees. Each tree sways and whispers untold secrets and the brightest lies, showing visions of dreams and futures unrealized.

As each whisper tells their secrets a shadow appears and showers the night in blood. Screams rend in the un-silence and peak as tearing sounds and the whispers stop. Bending my current vision, I am surprised to see that the brightness is distorted, and that red litters the ground in portions where arms and legs, bodies and heads, are separate and undefined.

A smile twists upon the Shadows face, deep and sinister. As he looks back to me and tells me about how he finds the ignorance and bliss, the lights all twist, and the undefined nine are all one. Three lines find their ways to the center, and redefine, the bright light into a copy of mine.

The Shadow just laughs and summons his dozen, a face just the same, all my own. The whispers groan, and reach a peak. Copies face each other, raged and meek. None are the same, and all are grown. But versions of me, my very own, turn and stare right at my figure, all Thirty-nine tall, and in the same voice they question albeit with a sneer,

"Will you gather us all, all on your own, far and near?"

***

Waking with a start, I jump from the bed, not understanding where I am, but knowing I am not home. In the middle of my aggressive reverie, in walks a purple thing, which I cannot seem to see, and I tackle it to the ground, growling in fury.

"Get off me, get off me!"

Coming to my senses, I remembered the previous day, which over the course of the night I began to think of as another dream. Realizing that it was not so, I removed myself from the supposed purple dragon, which I still couldn't see, and stretched my complaining joints.

"What was that for?" s/he asked, with slight worry, and concern.

"What do you mean...?"

The awkward silence finally made its presence known, as the dragon and I realized we had not formally introduced ourselves. Getting basic formalities out of the way, we gave our names at the same time in a show of respect.

"Keros/Spike."

It was strange that it was exactly the same time, but the message got through nonetheless. As we warmed up to each other—hah, warmed—a sound made itself known. In other words, we were hungry, and our stomachs decided at that moment to complain vehemently. With a dash of red on the otherwise purple face of my host, we decided to go down to the kitchen for some much needed sustenance that made itself known in the name of god's chosen breakfast...Waffles.

As my stomach and taste buds were celebrating in the name of the great Deity, and cursing Baba Yaga's great hunger, the purple one made itself known.

"Enjoying the food are you?" she asked with no discernible expression.

"God made this feast, and God can go suck his face, because I'm not letting him have any, Twilight." I replied with a serious expression.

"What, huh? What did you say?"

"For such a smart horse, you sure are stupid. Sit down and enjoy the damning meal."

Deciding on ignoring my remark—probably because she couldn't understand any of it—she set up her plate high with the fluffy goodness, and asked me the next of the questions that was on her mind.

" So why were you looking slightly to the side when you looked at me?" Twilight questioned in a curious tone while staring at my still towering stack of perfection and goodness, that I continued to pile the sweet treats on.

I continued my current bite of waffly-goodness, and stopped piling the fairy-scrumptious pancakes of perfection on top of each other, to answer her question, not that I give a damn about my personal life, if you give me some considerations into occasional pseudo-privacy every once in a while.

"Because I'm short-sighted, Valse Paard."

"What does that mean?" she asked with a vocal expression that showed that she was feeling that she was being insulted.

"It means that I can't see long distances without the assistance of specially layered and crafted glass."

"Not that, the other thing."

Thinking for a while at what she may be referring to, I realized she meant the Dutch that I casually spouted out.

"Ah, that. That's Dutch. It means 'False horse', because I know for a fact that horses don't talk where I come from."

"I'm not a whorse!" Twilight raged out.

Suddenly finding myself lifted yet again by the strange force, I was thrown to the back of room up to the door, and out the window by a very uncomfortable place. I was about to be picked up again when suddenly Spike ran in front of me.

"Twilight! Calm down, there's nothing to be angry about. He can't see! He probably doesn't even see a difference in what you look like, and the creatures he is familiar with."

With the fuming Twilight calming down, and looking at me with the most acute expression of hate and rage, she calmed down, closing her eyes—or what I thought was her eyes—and walked back inside.

Spike visibly relaxed, and turned around to try and comfort me, only to find me rolling on the ground clutching my aching balls. Whatever you say or try to do, never—and I mean never— hit a man in that spot.

"Are you ok?" Spike asked me with his tone leaking concern.

"I'm fan-fucking tastic, only been hit in the spot you're  never supposed to hit, by a talking horse, that's out to get me in a fucking fantasy world, that's too damn colorful and bright at 9:00 in the morning."

That provoked the silence that I needed to get over my extreme pain and overwhelming anger, though not for the right reasons. No longer in intolerable pain I looked up to see Spike asking a question.

"Wait, you're a g—"

He was interrupted abruptly, as Twilight decided to make another run at me, lifting me up, and over Spikes head, trying to tear off my face.

"Hold still will you?" she asked still holding me tightly, finally holding my head still, as something was pushed on my face.

"There. Finally, you little crybaby, you can see."