Discord Space: Frozen Equestria

A trapdoor covered in a thin layer of compressed snow lifted away from the stage of Ponyville Town Hall. Two figures emerged from that hole. One whose face shone in a bright cyan and walked on all fours. The other, a face of red who walked on two legs. This was the typical routine that the town hall saw a few times a week. Two beings would leave for several hours, and then return down the hole. Sometimes they would leave, not return with that method, and eventually leave again as if they had used another way in.

“This won’t take long, and you’re not out in the windy plains. It’ll hold.” Applejack still fussed over the counter on her RIG. An hour and a half inside the shelter of a ruined town hall. The entire floor was covered in hoof-deep snow at the very least. Several different shaped holes pitted the roof; most of those had formed from decay. Some had definitely come from weapons fire. She didn’t know if the lack of blood was a good sign or not. Either they had managed to avoid fighting the necromorphs, or they never got the chance to put a fight up. It was chilling in all the wrong ways.

Spike as usual was unfazed. There was no way of telling if it was the training or the war that did that to him. And Applejack didn’t have a reason to question him about it, not yet at least. “I know that Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash moved to the Lunar Colony while I was at the CEC Academy. And Pinkie Pie moved shortly before I took the job on Station Luna. But what about you and Rarity?” Not even mentioning her name caused a turn of his head. It certainly brought back bad memories to Applejack now that Spike was around again. Things hadn’t been very good between them when she left.

The scene outside was rather akin to what she expected a snowy apocalyptic Ponyville to look like. Debris littered the stretches of snow, right up to the waste choked rivers. A few of the houses beyond had been completely levelled into black logs sticking out of the white. The majority had simply fallen into total disrepair. Collapsed roofs and broken windows were the norm. As they crossed a crumbling bridge, she could now see blood was far more common on the houses than in town hall. The number of body parts began to rise as well.

Sweet Apple Acres was a complete mess. That much she could work out just from glimpsing the closest orchard as they approached. Ponies desperate for food had ravaged every single tree that would have died in the snow anyway. It didn’t make her feel that much better. “At least they went to some good use in the end.” Broken wood jutted out from the white blanket in what almost looked like a haphazard palisade. “Ironic, isn’t it? I joined the CEC to keep my home going. Instead, I ended up going insane, and now look at it.” She was three years too late to save it.

Her barn had weathered the snow a bit better than most of Ponyville at least. All of the windows were broken, but the roof held out. At that moment, she realized exactly what was waiting for her in there. “Spike.... They didn’t turn or lose their limbs, did they? I’d rather not see if that’s the case. They deserved a peaceful ending; you know that as well as I do.” The red glow turned in her direction this time. All that followed was a slow nod, before he continued towards the open barn doors.

The straw lining had rotted away a long time ago, replaced by muddy snow. No carcasses jumped up at her while she took her time in looking around. In her mind, it had only been eight months since she last saw the barn in its full glory. Bright red, filled with life and activity. Now it had been worn down to a dank husk of a building. Her eyes then settled on the door into her home. The moment of truth. Stopping short of opening it, she folded her helmet away. Spike did the same while resting a paw on her shoulder.

“When the outbreak began, we tried to fight. But we were quickly losing; over half of Ponyville was dead in the first month. The bunker could only support a hundred beings at most, so they did a lottery. Applebloom didn’t win.” Applejack’s hoof touched the door in front of her. It wasn’t hard to guess what happened next. That had been their way, all together or not at all. “I managed to get a small amount of the same serum Twilight used to hide herself from the necromorphs, and gave it to them. After everypony else I knew had left, they were the only family I could go to.”

He opened the door for her. It was very dark with all the windows blocked up, but she could see enough to find her way to the lounge room. There, snow had broken through one of the obstructions to conceal partially what lay in the corner. Three frozen bodies of different sizes. All huddled together in one last embrace. Applejack couldn’t speak. The crunch of snow when she dropped down to her knees in front of them said enough. Spike waited in the doorway as a sign of respect, watching her carefully.

“I couldn’t be here for them. What kind of Apple am I? The sort who doesn’t know when her own family gathers together for their last breath?” She couldn’t cry. The result of another injection from the asylum that would take days to wear off. It made her feel that much worse inside. Not showing her full emotions over the sight was just a good a betrayal as any. “I’m real sorry y’all, I really am.” Beneath the icy covering on Applebloom, she noticed a patch of blood covering her cutie mark.

She scraped away the top layer of snow. It wasn’t from a wound on her flank. What the hay? Another layer of snow lifted off to expose Applebloom’s cold flesh. The blood looked very fresh. Did a necromorph drool all over her? She wiped it away with her hoof, accidentally smearing it all over her hoof. Applebloom’s cutie mark stared back at her. A necromorph head. The vacant eyes, missing lower jaw, exactly like the others she had been fighting just hours ago.

“Oh no. No, how could her talent be fighting necromorphs? Spike?” A paw grabbed her shoulder firmly. She turned to look up at him. Where Spike’s head used to be, the same necromorph glared back at her. The two trademark blades punched out from his RIG to hover threateningly over her face. “Spike!” Snow flew as she shuffled into the corner, huddling beside the frozen corpses of her family. At least she had the small comfort of dying with her family, even if it was three years after them. Her eyes closed as the blades prepared to stab through her head.

“Snap out of it Applejack!” Orange flashed in her vision. The necromorph head and blades vanished, as did Applebloom’s cutie mark. “It was just a hallucination; we should have waited for Zecora to treat the dementia before coming here.” Applejack was hesitant to stand up again. The trembling from what happened made it difficult to get her balance on the uneven snow. Spike grabbed her hoof at last to pull her free. This time she remained close to him until the trembling ceased. “You’ll be back to normal soon enough. Just try to keep your head until then.”

Spike’s communicator activated at that moment to Plasma’s voice. “Spike, we just spotted a pack of feeders headed right in your direction. You need to get out of there right now.” He only hesitated to give Applejack time to recover. Between the delusions and seeing her family dead... “Applejack, you need to get up. You can grieve later, if you don’t leave now you may never get the chance.” She closed her helmet and got back up on her hooves.

“Sorry, I'm okay now. Don’t wait up for me you hear?” Spike nodded once before moving out. Applejack followed after shaking herself out of the chilly mood. Her counter had lost ten minutes from pressing into the frozen bodies. In her preoccupation with the cold, she ran into Spike at the barn doors. He was gazing through the brewing blizzard intently. “Don’t tell me, I'm going to get a look at what these ‘feeders’ are.” A paw motioned for silence while he got down into a crouch walk. Great, I never was the sort who was good at staying still or being quiet.

Groaning began to reach her ears over the wind. The sort of groaning that ponies wouldn’t make unless in extreme pain. She didn't even notice Spike had moved down to a snowdrift until he tagged her locator. “Hurry up and get down here. You need to see this.” Applejack kept low to the ground. The snow had one main advantage in that she could slide down the hill towards him rather easily. I am so glad I went with the metal plating instead of canvas.

She came to a stop next to Spike. Being that close to him had the advantage of keeping her a bit warmer on that side. And in their position, the constant wind and snow was partially blocked by what little remained of the trees. From further up the road, the source of the groans started to appear. At least a dozen. All practically thin to the bone. Leathery, rotted skin stretched out over their whole figure. A large gaping hole made up the mouth. She had a very clear and horrifying image of why they were called ‘feeders’.

“That’s what happened to the ponies north of here. Either they died of starvation, or they started eating the necromorphs.” The thought was chilling enough to Applejack. Ponies didn’t eat meat, at least not normally. “One of the survivors gave us a pretty good description of how it progressed. They started reacting badly to light, constantly looking for anything to eat. When they came after her, she escaped here. Now we avoid them whenever possible, because there’s a lot more waiting nearby.” He picked up a piece of wood and hurled it clear across the road.

Each of the feeders immediately turned their heads towards where it had landed. Haphazard limbs and wide mouths creaked as most moved to investigate the disturbance. “That’s just not right. And I’ve seen a pregnant necromorph tear herself open y’know.” One of them looked right at the snowdrift where they were hiding. Applejack closed her mouth tightly. Go away; please just go away. It began to approach in a hunched crawl, making clicking sounds as some sort of echolocation. Of course, the moment you start telling them to go away...

Spike reached for another object to throw. They were blind like most other necromorphs, except they seemed to have brilliant hearing. Just pulling another piece of wood free from the snow caused it to stop and make a whooping noise. That caused other feeders to begin making their way over. Come on Spike, we’re about to get eaten by necromorphs. I’d rather not become liquid flesh to be formed into Celestia knows what. He hurled the second piece of wood without making a sound. That one landed in the opposite direction of Ponyville.

A series of whoops passed between the feeders while they moved away in search of the sound. “Now.” Spike was on his feet and bolting for Ponyville before Applejack could turn her head. I guess I’ve had practise at running for my life. The feeders had already turned when she leapt over the drift and galloped away. There was a good distance between her and the tall, dark red figure ahead. And hopefully a far larger distance between her and the chasing necromorphs.

One of them leapt onto her back. Weakened from the cold, Applejack stumbled into the snow. “Buck! These things can jump!” Hooves clutched at her helmet in an attempt to rip it off. She fought back with a swift buck that sent it flying back. In the moments it took to turn around and shoot, the whole pack had caught up. And more were pouring in from the road. The dozen swiftly became four dozen at least. “This is not what I expected when you said more would come!” Her cutter ran hot as the first few heads popped; limbs were too thin to get a good shot at.

“Do not fear Applejack, these necromorphs are not ready for my attack.” Zecora materialized to one side of the pack with a long pole in her hooves. Each end glowed as it came into contact with a feeder head. The result was a rather satisfying splatter of frosted pony brains. I knew you had some fancy zebra magic hidden away there Zecora. Forty feeders didn’t seem that bad anymore. Spike returned with his rifle at that moment, by then they were down to thirty. Zecora’s battle pole was very effective in fighting them. “Be gone you nasty beasts! This is not the place for your feasts!”

The next shot from her cutter didn’t come. Of course, she had forgotten to get plasma clips before heading out. This time Spike wasn’t hesitant to pull her up. “Zecora can take them; you’re freezing to death out here! Come on!” Applejack took another look at the steady rate of carnage. He was certainly right about that. “She’ll get out okay, just move Applejack.” There wasn’t much else she could do but run after that. The cold made it harder to gallop. Somehow, she found the strength to push on back into the safety of Ponyville.

*

Hours passed before Zecora finally returned to the base. In her attempt to lead the feeder pack away from the base, her helmet had been damaged severely from several powerful bites. Applejack hadn’t left the warmth of Spike’s bed in that time. Her RIG lay in a heap in one corner. While it did make her feel warmer once she was inside the air-conditioned base, it made sleeping painfully difficult. Visits from Trixie were her only method of keeping up with what was going on.

This time it was the owner of the room who entered. A steaming mug sat in his paw as he moved to her side. “Zecora says this’ll help you sleep. She’s already got the first treatment ready for tomorrow. And Plasma’s working on a replacement heat regulator for your RIG.” The blanket shuffled as Applejack moved to sit up. “You handled yourself very well back there. I’m glad to see that you haven’t lost that kick.” She nudged Spike in a teasing way.

The smell coming from the mug was the usual mix of strange herbs and flowers. At least Zecora had a sense of sticking to traditional ways in common with Applejack. “Well, here goes.” She took the mug in both hooves and began drinking it down. Most of the flavours she didn’t recognize at all. A few like rose and lemon helped to make the whole experience a little easier on her stomach. Spike didn’t even flinch when she set it firmly down on the side table. “Wow, I’ll say that sure was some intense brew. Did she say how long it would take for me to drop over?”

Somepony knocked at the door. Spike touched her shoulder briefly while he got up. The drowsiness began almost immediately after. Despite that, Applejack kept her eyes open to watch the door. Trixie’s knock was different, and everybody else in the base knew that she wasn’t feeling well enough for thirty visitors to come by. “Is this a bad time?” Her ears perked at the voice outside. It didn’t sound quite right, high-pitched and slightly grated. Artificial. But who would have a synthesised voice?

Spike looked back at her briefly. She nodded slowly. Zecora’s sleeping brew was starting to take hold, but her curiosity was now focused on the stranger. “Just a few minutes, she isn’t far from falling asleep. And she’s still a bit rattled from before.” He stood back and turned the lights onto a dim level to spare her eyes. The door moved open to reveal the pony standing there. Applejack’s breath caught deep in her throat. Synthetic legs, most of the artificial skin had stopped growing back over the hooves. What skin did remain was a bright pink.

‘I had to work in a weapons factory, exposed to radiation and stasis on a daily basis. By the time I got out, over half of my body had to be replaced with artificial parts, just to stay alive.’ “Discord wasn’t lying...” As impossible as the thought was, Applejack simply couldn’t deny who was standing there, right in front of her.

Pinkie Pie.