Masksby TwizzleDragonChaptersConceloLunchCharredPracticeSealedComplacencyHieghtened SecurityCausticTraverseThreadFinaleConceloIt began with a dream, just how every night ends, just how every morning begins. This one subtle as it slipped from my mind. Different from the rest as the blur came in and the memories of it slipped away. I was standing in the center of a stage. The main act I suppose. I knew it was a dream just by that fact, as a pony like me would’ve never been able to get so far. I didn’t want to wake, even though my dream was focused on my nightmares, it was still better than reality. The sirens blared, their high pitched squeals cutting through in sequences. They were old, very old, causing the devices to sound horrid upon start. It was enough to drive anypony insane over time. I opened my eyes, getting straight into the daily routine. The same technique and motions for getting out of bed, the same amount of time for rubbing my eyes, even if they were irritated or not, the same ponies all around me. The room was red. Bright, flashing red as the sirens call continued into our ears. Today started the same as every other day. I expected it to end the same too. We all got out of our beds in a messy order, but all together at that. We marched ourselves towards the showers, all young fillies and colts, all wearing different masks. These masks became us. We were given them straight from birth. Each has a number. Mine’s number Twenty Thousand, Four Hundred and Forty Three. I’ve never seen my face. Nopony has, nor their own. Mirrors were banned from Equestria long ago. I’m not even sure what a mirror is; I heard it was some sort of glass that showed us what we looked like, some sort of abomination in the eyes of our culture. Anyways, these masks that we have are given at random. Each has a symbol, along with a number. These symbols represent our jobs later in life. There are about 6 symbols. I unfortunately got stuck with the balloons. This symbol means I must work in entertainment, which is strict to the carnival. I am forced to care for the animals. It’s not the choice I would take for a job, but I didn’t get to pick it. In this day and age, you were either good at your job or you were gone within a day or two. It had only happened a few times before to our class. Next day they were replaced with a random somepony who could do the job. We entered the showers, each one of us still tired. The shower room was large, white, and tiled. There were no walls, no curtains, nothing to give us privacy. A window above part of the wall revealed them watching us, making sure we did nothing out of step. They wanted us to know, fearing what we would do if we thought we weren’t watched for just a second. We lined up. Each to their own shower. Our watchers soon turned each on. letting the waters flow onto our filthy souls. It poured down, cold and uncomfortable. It was one of their many ways to keep us down. I stayed still, just like the others. We were statues for five minutes, doing nothing more than staring blankly at the wall. The water shut off. We each walked out of the shower room in single file, each as quiet as the next. Entering a new room, the preparations room we had come to calling it whenever speaking was allowed, another totally white room with camera’s watching us. They had camera’s just about everywhere. Here were a few benches to sit down, towels to dry off, and old, rusty lockers in which we kept our personal job attire. Some split off from the line just as they had since they started. The benches and lockers were lined in rows. The room was humid, not the place you wanted to be on a warm day but we never really had a choice. The only time we had to ourselves was out in the carnival tent when the camera’s weren’t directly on us, and even then it wasn’t something we wanted to do. It came my turn to split off, four others followed behind me for our row. I sat down at the end, right next to my locker. It was mostly rust, barely able to hold my tool belt. It was really all I needed. The animals each had a different tool so they decided it was best that I keep them near the animals instead of bundled in my locker. I opened it up, grabbing my towel and dried my body. The showers were never enough to get rid of the filth. I would always be stained with dirt. I went for my belt. Taking it and strapping onto my body. I was always the first one done as the others had different jobs. We never really bonded much even though we were stuck together for the rest of our lives. See, each carnival gets it’s own set of children. The carnivals move from one city to the next every year. This carnival season was coming to an end and soon we would take the train from Baltimare to Canterlot. It was spring, the time for preparing for the next season. We never switched cities during winter as the trains became difficult to transport, or so they tell us. Nopony really ever goes during winter anyways. Back to the set. After twenty-something years they dump the carnival workers into the badlands due to reasons unknown. After that they pick up the new batch of fillies and colts who got the rare balloon marked masks. These fillies knew their parents for about one year of their life, depending on when they started being able to remember. For some it is traumatizing to be taken away, some are even killed if they can’t get over it, for others like me we just keep it bottled up only to cry about it once every few years. At age five we are put into practice with the carnival. They randomly give us a job, which is mostly based off our race, earth ponies usually take care of the animals, pegasi are usually the daredevil acts or whatnot’s, and the unicorns are clearly for magic if they are skilled enough. At age seven we start our first carnival. We’re given a very low budget at first. No large animals or fancy cannons to shoot ourselves from. We have to earn our equipment through impacting the audience with entertainment. Anything to keep them from rioting is what I was always lead to believe. They never let us out of the grounds so learning about the world outside was impossible. All I knew was we were afraid of falling water, there was a thing called a “sun,” and we didn’t have to keep all nature locked up to keep it safe. The world outside was scorched, burned by something. They always told us that the badlands looked like this back when we still had plants and free-roaming animals. The last colt in my row finished. I think his number was Twenty Thousand, Four Hundred and Twenty Nine. It’s hard to remember sometimes but all the ponies in my row had the same first three digits so if we ever got in a conversation we called them by the last two. He was some sort of pegasus. His fur was a light gray and his mane looked as if it were stained by oil. He worked on the cannon that I spoke of earlier, shooting other pegasi into the air to do magnificent tricks. I don’t recall him being an original here. He just showed up one day a month ago, or maybe I hadn’t noticed him until then. We all stood up once more, heading out of the preparation room and finally into the carnival tent. We went through a narrow hallway, unable to go side by side. I had to wait for two lines of ponies until I could go. The air became cold and dry. The ground was damp somehow. The overall area was lightened in red. Red tent, red poles, red stages, and red cages. I never understood why since all places we know outside of this carnival are white, black, or gray. We split off in our job directions. Some to the main area, a place filled with acrobatic hula hoops, ropes, and everything else for their position. The unicorns who could do magic of an extraordinary level went off behind stage. Never knew what they did back there other than the obvious but there was always an explosion or some sort of fire started back there that we had to put out. I headed with the earth ponies towards the animal cages, along with #20429 as he was more of an engineer than an acrobat, unlike his brethren. We were the only non-earth ponies that worked in said area. Through the open area we came to a place filled with cages that formed into a perfect square. Some of the cages were made of wood and placed on carts. These usually held large animals in abundance or the occasional lion, tiger or bear. Other cages were placed inside of the square formation, ones made of metal and dug into the ground. We weren’t allowed to know what creatures were inside of these cages, but their eyes... their eyes shine bright when they look up and into our own. And finally there was one cage, one that was outside of the formation entirely. It was placed where all could see it: above the show part of the tent. This cage was made to show whatever was in it, even though there was nothing. It was made of glass and held by magic above the tight ropes. As soon as we entered the square we each split off individually towards our specified jobs. Which meant each earth pony went to a cage and let an animal out so they could train them somewhere else. I however had to stay and feed them. I walked towards the lions cage first. He was a brute. His fur was filthy, never cleaned. His eyes were bloodshot, draining you of confidence. And his roar, terrible as it could possibly be for a lion. He wasn’t too big, or at least I think he wasn’t. He was the only lion I knew, he was like a pet. I grabbed the bucket near his cage, already filled with his slop for the morning, as usual, and threw it in the cage as I was terrified to even enter it. He’d snarl at me before paving his way into the blasphemous meat. The task was done, at least for the lion. I went on to the next animal, our very own Hominem Portabitque Porcum, a tainted bear, half hairless, with the head of a pig. It stood on his hind legs when it walked around, if it ever did, most of the time it just sat in it’s cage. It wasn’t a huge audience grabber, surprisingly. Once more, I grabbed his specific bucket and attempted to throw the slop into his cage. This creature ate something awful, heavy in stench and weight. I picked it, or at least endeavored to, but I failed with one hoof. I grasped it once again, this time with both and heaved it up as high as I could, which still wasn’t enough to dump it in there. I gave myself a jump from the ground in an attempt to spill it in. The bear gave his notice towards me, turning his body my way. I could see the impatience and hunger in his eyes. Finally, I jumped with enough power that I got the bucket through and dumped his food. Unfortunately for me, the creature missed. I screamed in pain as its claws dug into my front leg, blood climbing out of the wound, not much but more than I wanted. I couldn’t get free, his claw would rip more of my leg if I tried to get away from the cage. I was stuck there in pain. Pain and misery. This was all I could feel. I watched as my hoof went from a pristine white coat to a lambent crimson. I could see him running towards me, #20429, dropping all his tools to help me out. That was the last I saw. Darkness faded in and that was all I could remember. I woke up later, still delirious. My eyes opened to not a crowd, but two ponies. One was #20429, the other was a white unicorn. She was about my age from the looks of her body. She was thin, her hair was puffy and made of two colors: a light pink and purple. Her masks had no design at all, it was simply blank besides the three dead butterflies printed on the side to show her calling. Her eyes were... they weren’t even eyes. Usually we can see the color if we look closely and this filly was right up in my face. I didn’t see any color, it was pure blackness. It didn’t make any sense to me. I looked down at my leg. It was bandaged a bit, still being bandaged by this strange, black-eyed filly. The bandages were mostly scarlet with blood. An artery or two must’ve been severed. My coat was stained, but I didn’t mind. It made me look tougher. “Uhh...” I started, “so... hello there, miss...?” The filly gave no number. She just stared at my wound and kept working, so focused on her work as if it were her own. “Don’t bother,” #20429 said as he sat down next to my undamaged front hoof, “she ain’t said a word since I got her over here. Dunno if she even part of the team.” He looked at the black-eyed filly with a smirk. “Ya feeling better, Forty-Three?” It was the first time anyone had actually called me that short of my name. I liked it.“Y-yea... I think so.” He laughed. “Good, cause ya know they ain’t letting you get a day off for this. Ya need help for tomorrow? Repairing stuff can wait a day or two, they won’t notice.” The filly finished wrapping the wound, she grabbed scissors and cut the cloth, tying it tight against my skin. “Thanks, I think I can handle myself though.” The filly stood up and walked away. She didn’t have any marks on her body, no filth, no scars, no nothing. It was strange. “Best be off towards the halls. You been out for a bit. Don’t worry bout them animals, they’ve been fed already.” He got up and grabbed my good hoof to assist. “I told you before, I don’t need your help.” He let go of my hoof and just stood there waiting on me. I got my footing back and we just continued. He stayed next to me for the whole walk. It was nice. Finally a change in the wind. I wonder how long it’ll last. Author's Note I'll be getting an editor sometime to fix this chapter-along with future ones-up a bit. I just wanted to release the first edition. I think Conelo is a latin word for beginning or something. I have no idea. I was planning on taking this further and posting this first chapter where it would end at a darker scene but I think I'll hit that scene in 1 or 2 more chapters anyways. LunchWe walked through a hallway, the same details in this as the rest of the hallways. My bandages hadn’t been very tight, or perhaps my blood found a weak point as the bandages clearly were starting to unravel. Blood trickled down my leg and onto the floor as we kept towards the nutritional halls. It wasn’t much, but it still bothered me. The cold, clammy liquid bothered me in a strange tense. I loved blood and everything about it. The smell, the sight, the taste, and the feel. It was one of my favorite things in life. The hallway narrowed into a set of grey metal doors. #20429 stopped me before we went through. “Ya best be hiding that, alright? They ain’t gonna like the workers lacking on account of a big injury like that.” He poked his head down and gave my bandaged wound another look. “I can handle it.” “If you say so. You better stop that limp ‘else ya might end up who knows where.” I readied myself, having no attention on that limp. I didn’t notice it until he told me so I thought it would be best to stay close by his side. #20429 smashed through the door. It wasn’t out of anger or to make a loud bang, these doors were just so old and rusty that they had to be given a large push. A gleam of light blinded me as the opening came into existence. Beheld in front of me sat the nutritional hall, a slim grey room with rust and asbestos conquering its ceiling, filled with tables that sat in perfect distance from one another, each sitting no more than four; no less than one. It held a small horizontal crevice in a wall where they would give us whatever food they felt would do us for the day. It never tasted good, but then again I never tasted anything that was “good.” I stayed close to his side as we moved towards the serving area. This small spot had only an extending metal plate for us to receive whatever food they had. We walked up to it, speaking nothing, only waiting for them to notice our presence and do their job. It was about fifteen seconds before one of the beings behind it noticed us. It slipped through two plastic rectangles with three courses on top. I didn’t look at it right away, I just kept with #20429. He started towards the last empty table. I looked around before we departed far only to notice the thunderous silence in the room. A few ponies per table, only one cleared of life. I usually sat alone, it didn’t make a difference. If we talked it would’ve been forced into cautious whispers, at least in this room. Finally we approached this lonely table. He sat first. He was quite different. Where as most would sit with our legs perched in front of our bodies like a dog, he sat with his legs down and off the chair. I had never seen anything like it. I stayed with my usual way. I looked down at my food. It was... not appetizing at all... what I’ve been told is a corn mush and the rest I have no intentions of knowing. Ignorance is bliss, at least that’s what our social creed is supposed to be. I noticed his face turn towards me, his magnificent grey face, just caught by the edge of my sight. His mouth opened, “It still hurt?” he whispered. I dared not reply in a mix of fear, a fear that they may take notice, but also a fear of change, and of nervousness. Nervous of what? I don’t know. The stale air brought his focus back to the meal. I dug my face into the corn mush. It didn’t have a taste. That didn’t matter, when you only get one meal a day you just enjoy the satisfaction of having your stomach filled. It stayed like this for a time, just eating the food as #20429 tried to make conversation with my silence. There was a loud laugh from down the room. I looked up. There at the end table of my row sat three fillies. They looked worried, one covering her mouth, talking unsure of what.. They kept on with their talk for a minute or two before the side doors to the nutritional hall opened. There at the doors stood two stallions. I couldn’t see their mask designs perfectly, but the marks stood out well. One, an albino earth pony with the loyalty mark, a cloud with a rainbow lightning strike, and the other all I could see was of a hat over his mask and the start mark. His hat was brown, it wasn’t old, nor ruined. Just a new age hat. It was something of farm-style. His fur was a light brown, and his hooves were scuffed noticeably from work. The two stallions just stood there before the filly with her mouth closed tried to hide her face-held hoof against the table. The albino one walked towards their table and scattered them away. He put his hoof on the shoulder of the laughing filly, keeping her from moving. “Alright!” shouted the brown stallion, “Get back to your quarters.” We all stood up, except for the targeted filly. We made our way towards the way the two came in, #20429 and I in the back of the group. I looked back, the filly just staring at us, fear in her eyes. And then the doors closed, she was out of my sight. The quarters were as they always were:damp, quiet, red, and frightful. I laid down in my bed, this time off-key with the others by just a second. No one noticed. I stared at the ceiling, waiting for slumber. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. But it never came. By the time the sirens woke the rest, I had already been ready for the day. I stood up and got out of my bed. Everything was normal, except for the laughing filly. She was gone. In her bed laid a new filly, one I had never seen before. Author's Note Sorry for it being short and rushed... I'll pace more next chapter, or at least try. Just starting to get into the actual ideas now. CharredShe sat there, in a strangers bed, acting as if she belonged there, as if she were always there. This new filly, she seemed uniquely indifferent. It was like she was the envisioned filly they always wanted there, in that specific place, and we were just the ‘imperfected’ to them. Everyone got out of bed, a small delay this morning but nopony seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn’t care. I looked over towards #20429, his form challenging, yet unchanging. He seemed to glisten amongst these walking dead. We went to the showers, to the lockers, all through the same routine as the day before, nothing really standing out. Soon we found ourselves back in the main tent, preparing for the Carnival in weeks time. All seemed usual, I got my supplies and fed the animals, this time I didn’t get my arm bit or cut. I made my rounds just kept taking a small peek towards #20429 as he worked on his cannon. Everything seemed fine until I made it to the phoenix cage. “Hello, Abuela,” she was an old phoenix, hopefully going to ash by the time the Carnival was set up. Her feathers shagged off as she coughed something mean. I threw it a rat for her, she loved live rats. “Fire!” Somepony screamed, “Get some water!” he continued. I looked back towards the backstage area. It wasn’t really a backstage though, it was like a tent within the main tent, as the stage was just a circle. They had a fire about three times a month back there, usually they just set the outside of the tent aflame. All I could see was a billow of smoke rising, eventually circling back down and spreading through the tent. “Come on!” yelled #20429, grabbing an empty food bucket and ran off towards the flames. I did the same, taking Abuela’s bucket, heading towards the waterspout. It wasn’t far from the animal cages, we got to drink from it if we became thirsty. It was a rusted piece of junk that leaked more water than it gave out. #20429 started turning the pump on, collecting what he could in his bucket as the cracks leaked out their own little mini-storm. He took off towards the backstage tent as immediately as his bucket was filled. “Hurry,” he yelled, disappearing into the billows. I stuck my bucket under the spout, gathering up what it could hold. It filled slowly as there was a crack or two in it. I took off, with it only half-full, towards the tent. Ash heavy in the air, making it hard to breathe. This was bigger than the usual fire. The tent was somehow mostly intact, must’ve been magical cloth. I threw the water on, dousing a small portion of the fire. 20429 ran back, I ran with. The spout was shaking now, unused to such pressure expanding a minute in time. He stuck his bucket under a leak that had begun pouring out gallons, I did the same. “Get back!” yelled somepony near the tent, pushing fillies and colts out of danger. My bucket filled and I turned around, running towards it again. It seemed like nopony else was getting water for it other than me and #20429. We kept on towards the tent for a second time. And then I saw her... Just a young earth filly, no more innocent than an infant, burning up. Her mane had caught on fire, singeing her body and melting her skin. It just started rolling off in small waves, dripping onto the ground as she ran in pain and fear. She screamed in agony and nopony batted an eye nor showed remorse or care. She was but an imaginary demon and all I did was watch, capable of saving her life yet unable to do so. She turned my way before dropping to the ground, dead. Her mask... it didn’t melt... it stuck on there more stubborn than anything I’ve ever seen. I just froze, watching the stitches disintegrated, separating the two finally. Time seemed to have slowed down, fillies and colts ran in panic at subtle speed. Then her face became existent, pale yellow face with beautiful orange eyes. Her mask just laid there beside her as the fire engulfed and ruined the rest of her perfection. It wouldn’t darken, it wouldn’t turn to ash, it just laid there, vibrantly still. I continued staring for quite some time, watching the skin sizzle with the heat, crisping her body up. The others had put out the tent’s flame, yet I stayed here, sitting next to this surprisingly calm fire. Blackened bones and charred organs were left in wake, giving off a creepy delicious aroma. Bang. The big metal doors that lead to the nutritional halls slammed open, five ponies walking out. Three were wearing white medical coats, two wearing their starry masks, standing above us all. One stood out among them all, the Taskmaster. He was a light-gray pony with a partial mask, cutting off in an arch near his left cheek, designed with splatters of black, orange, and dark blue. He was our leader in a tone, our oppressor in our minds. He was the one who kept order, and who took away those who differed too much negatively. The three medical-dressed ponies went off, two picking up the charred filly’s remains and placing them on this blue mat, wrapping her in it. The other went into the tent for who knows. The Taskmaster and the other star-marked pony talked for a bit in little whispers, cancelling of our senses. “Alright, I’ll get right on it,” said the other pony as he ran off in the direction of the tent, treading lightfully. “Listen up!” the Taskmaster yelled, fillies and colts dropping everything where they stood. “You are to retreat into your quarters for the rest of the night. There will be no food served tonight. I expect you to clean up what you can, get your tools back into your lockers, and sleep. Nothing more, nothing less.” He turned around, trotting off to his office. Some of the ponies began picking up their tools, a few unicorns attempted to go in the tent, only for the medical and star pony to push them away. The medical one carried a few tools over at a time, making sure they stayed out of that area. It was strange, but they are always strange. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because we are different that we’re forced into this, but I know it’s not that. I had all my tools already set and placed for tomorrow. It was the first day we opened up our carnival, all I had to do was keep the beasts in check with the earth ponies, other than that I guess it was some time with #20429, and to that, I was looking forward. I kept my eyes on the tent, staring out of curiosity. The star pony walked back in, lifting up part of the tent that connected to the facility we lived in, it was just a wall there, or I think that’s all there was. Next thing I know the side of the tent rummaged a little bit, a small colt peeling his way out from the bottom, #20429. The medical ponies had taken away the charred corpse by now, the stench didn’t leave with them. It was time for us to go, the star pony had us line up in our regular columns before departing. I fell a little short, dropping to the back of the line. “What’s back there?” I whispered to my acquaintance, careful to keep my head stilled from his direction. “Just a door.” Author's Note To the asshat with his subs playing for 6 hours straight near my house: I am slitting your tires tonight. Have Fun! Rushed it a little at the end. Had to decide a few things and I decided I needed some backstory for one of the ideas to make total sense. PracticeThe sirens went off like clockwork, just like the haunting days before. Everypony and went to the showers in the same linear fashion as before. We had new faces today, already trained supposedly, all to recount from the burn victims that died or were exiled due to last nights fire. Everything went blandly, exactly how they wanted it to be for years from the morning wake until we reached the lockers. Everything was quiet. Everything was still. It was the same, yet different in all other ways, a subtle change, the spark before the cannonblast. The Taskmaster bursted into the room, violently. Everypony stood at attention to him, waiting for his orders, or words depending on who listened. “Listen up!” he shouted, “We have but one day until the rotation is reached. Tomorrow the gates will open and you will all give your best to entertain the Acroties.” I had only heard of this term months before. It was a name for a class category, unlike the six categories for what mask you had, this one was for the wealth. We would start at the bottom, Acroties, or the peasants who lived in the slums of a city’s harshly discriminated districts. If we were good we could entertain in another district for the Minstres. I had never heard of any Kre observing, too busy with handling their system I suppose. “Tonight though, I expect you all to listen to Overseer. He will instruct you on tomorrows plan for the Carnival. You have all trained for tomorrows duties since infancy, there shall be no failure allowed on this. Overseer!” Taskmaster called him, the buffoon stumbling into the room like the soul of the crow that possesses him. “If I hear any complaints, there will be punishment. Now, get back to your duties!” and just like that he left, slammed the door on his way out. Overseer leaned against the wall, barely keeping his stance. “Alright,” he began, “you will all be given a specific assignment. I demand them to be done exactly as given, is that understood?” Everypony nodded in agreement. “Great. Now, magical teams are to report to the center of the stage immediately. Your assignment will be given once there. Get going!” They followed almost immediately, taking all but one unicorn from the room. “Acrobatics!” I assumed he meant the pegasus, there was only one on that team and all he did was keep the ropes tight. “Get to your usual practice areas, you’ll each get a separate assignment.” Like the unicorns, they went off. Finally, time for my team. “Handlers… and others…” I assumed he was directing that towards #20429 and me, seeing as how we didn’t exactly fit in with this team fully. “You will report to your usual duties, unless, you are a trainer. Trainers will be working with another instructor with a few creatures to prepare for tomorrow's performance. Get to it!” We went off, clearing the locker room of all but the Overseer, who I assumed went to drink himself off a bit more. Of all the ponies in this society, this unjust way of life, us show ponies deserved to get drunk the most, but stealing a sip, just a sweet sip of bliss from the star folk, was exile. Sometimes I wonder if they ever get creative with their punishments, or if its the same for every little thing. 20429 and I walked to our usual area, though he had fixed the canon already and was out of work, and resumed the daily routine. I could hear the instructors giving their orders while I fed the animals left behind. #20429 decided he would help, as we were lucky enough to be so useless in any other placement so we could watch the other perform and get a bit of entertainment. It was fast, about a quarter the time as it would for me alone with the whole to feed. “So,” #20429 started, feeding the boars with me. “Ya think it locked?” It shocked me a little how quick he shot into a conversation starter, every other day before this would have been risky. They had to be busy watching the pre-performance to even care what two useless ones were doing with the animals. I felt I could poison each and every one and nopony would stop me until it was too late. “Think what is locked?” I knew exactly what he was asking about. Thought I wanted deep within my sober soul to go and check on that door myself, to just see what was behind it, to see if it was even locked, to see if it was guarded, or maybe just to see that I saw some kind of illusion. I wanted to be wrong, which was odd, I always hoped for change, but this was different in some way, like I knew it was a change in things around here, but what kind of change? That door could lead me to the outside, perhaps to the reason of why things are the way they are, or it could just be a door leading to nothing special. “The door. They went into such measures to hide it behind a wall, force us away when it started burning. I doubt they gone and locked something hidden.” This wasn’t making sense to me, still, he had a point. “Dunno.” “Want to find out? C’mon, they’re all focused on their stunts, who’d notice if the small, unimportant ones sneak away for a second?” “You know exactly what they’d do if they found us poking around.” “Exactly? For all we know they could just be putting us in a different class!” “I said no, can we just drop it and forget about the door?” “Fine…” He finished pouring the slop into the boar cage. The menacing creatures got specks all over from their eating style. It disgusted me, but then I remembered how close we were to these animals, I remembered how much worse we were than them. “You want to go watch the pegasi practice on the ropes?” I asked, wanting to get away from this area for the first time in a long while. “I… Well… Could we watch from the side?” “What’s wrong with watching from the towers? Theres nopony on the western one.” “I just don’t like heights…” “But you’re a pegasus…” “And you’re a unicorn. I don’t see you using magic.” “That’s different.” “How?” “I’m just a dud, I’m not afraid of magic.” “But you are afraid of a door.” I gave him a mean look. He was cute, but annoying, I still liked him. “Alright, the stands it is.” We walked over to the benches closest to the stage, careful not to scuff anything. We sat with our faces towards the burnt tent, they hadn’t even worked on making it less obvious of its battle scars. I couldn’t help myself but stare through the others work at it. It was something so silly to be fascinated by, like admiring the mane of another, it had little value and no sense, but some still did it without reason. I had to force my view back on the stage folk. Down on the ground, handlers were sending their animals into somewhat generic tricks. I wasn’t impressed by their simple flips and jumps, even if a ring of fire was added in. Up in the air, the pegasi did their aerial tricks. Some dived into water, others did obstacles with artificial clouds, and some fought their petty battles against another with their bare hooves, tearing at the others wings until their opponent fell to the ground, ruined. A few unicorns were spread across the stage, some in the towers creating magical explosions to awe the crowd, others on the ground charming the beasts to handle better than those trained to tame them. Half of them were somewhere else, they were so mysterious. It felt odd for me to be the only unicorn to not know what they did elsewhere. Like, I should know, its my right to know, but I don’t now, and I never will. It was all something so repetitive. All the acts, routines, everything just so uncreative. I couldn’t understand how this was supposed to stop violence. Maybe their lives were repetitive themselves, so this would be acceptable for them, or maybe their lives were so terrible that this was amazing, or maybe my life was interesting, much more than I thought before. I looked back at #20429, he was slumped backwards next to me, already looking at me when I had turned. He was doing something underneath that mask of his, something that wasn’t allowed. I could see the strings tugging lashes into his skin. The masks weren’t made for us to physically commit it, but here he was, despite the pain and blood that would begin to drip down if he continued long enough, here he was, smiling. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t even try to smile back, he wouldn’t be able to see my smile, just like I with his. We continued to watch the performance for some time, though it probably wasn’t the best idea, seeing as how this would be everything we saw the next day. I guess we didn’t take that into consideration. I didn’t know what we could’ve done instead, perhaps get away from the crowds and enforcers, but we couldn’t leave, nopony could. It was either we stayed and watched the show, or we went off together, and to me it was clear which I would be doing. Author's Note This is not turning into a romance. SealedWhat followed after the events of the rehearsal were down to a minimum. We got a larger lunch, barely, but still larger. Costumes were delivered supposedly for the performers, we were only allowed to see our individual clothes, so I saw nothing new. Other than that we went off to bed. The only thing out of ordinary from that days rest were the scars on #20429’s jawline. I wish he hadn’t been smiling, but he couldn’t help it. I don’t think the Overseer knew, as this emotion, what I believe to be happiness, hadn’t been shown to him before. It was a law never broken because only those who could break it knew how to hide it. It was like being the only living being amongst an army of dead. When we awoke the next day, the day of our first ever performance for the Carnival, they didn’t wake us with the usual siren that destroyed much of our eardrum, they awoke us to something they had never done before, silence. It was and always shall be the most powerful noise. The nights were always quiet, yes, but there was always something to be heard, sometimes this noise let us know that we were safe, that as long as that noise went uninterrupted, we would wake up to another normal day, but the noise stopped, it has never stopped before, it died within the coming of a storm. We were all so used to this indescribable, little noise that once the silence started, we awoke to muffled screams. All together, one by one, and off into a routine that had finally changed after many long years. We got in the showers and stayed as stone for the entirety, only to get out and into our lockers as usual. I couldn’t stop glaring back at #20429’s scars. The watchers didn’t seem to notice, but they didn’t when I was maimed last week, so why would they with his jawline cuts? Taskmaster was waiting for us when we finished in the lockerroom. He seemed a little more pleasant today. He was still a violent and powerful pony, but today was a test for not just us, but for him. Today he would realize if he failed at his job or not. I hated the stallion, but even I wanted him to succeed at this. He gave a few words, most to intimidate us to do well, and then forced us on our way to prepare. I didn’t have a job today, neither did #20429, as we were just backstage maintenance and slop dumpers. We could watch the show, but it wasn’t entertaining for us. We were different, that was clear to us since the start. We went straight for our usual area, a place where, even on days such as this with so many ponies, we would never be disturbed. The animals were a bit more rowdy today in their cages, but nothing too harsh. We talked for a bit, but never anything too… happy… I was afraid to make him smile. I was afraid to feel how he felt. I always dreamed of change, but now that we emotionally have change, I fear it more than anything. I like this pony, I do, but in our world we cannot be how we want, so it is better not to be at all. He tried to get closer to me, not physically, but he wanted to know more about me. There wasn’t much to tell. My mind is blank majority of the time, even though I wish to pretend it’s some sort of mess, even though I lie to myself and others, the truth is always there. You can live in a fantasy world your entire life, believe that it is perfect in every way possible and hate anypony who says differently, but reality is a hard lie that we all see differently. I kept pondering away from our conversation whenever he tried to know a bit too much. I was reserved, we were supposed to be reserved, we weren’t supposed to be conscious beings, we were supposed to be soulless bodies that worked as machines for public entertainment, but we weren’t, at least we didn’t want to be. We wanted to be our own kind, not slaves, I wish there was a word for it, there probably was a word for it, but I don’t know it, nopony does anymore. Our conversation spanned for a few hours, making us miss most of the show. We didn’t care. One of the overseers came by and we silenced ourselves. He simply told us we would need to sweep the hay that had spread out backstage. There was no argument given, nor allowed, so we went off with our brooms towards the area we were directed towards. We made it to the obvious spot and started sweeping. We were near the part of the tent that had almost burnt down. There had been no repairs done, not even an attempt to make it look prettier. Since the fire, the tent had not been touched. I remembered the door that it tried to hide, none of the details about the door, because a door isn’t special, and yet it is the most amazing thing in the world. The door could be just a silly little place in the wall that can’t be opened, or it could be a way to escape or a portal to the past, maybe even another universe but I would never know unless I opened it. If I had a chance, I’d take it. I kept thinking about the door as we swept the floor. They started bringing out the medium-sized animals, the elephants, the adult phoenixes, and a few other creatures. The crowds weren’t totally pleased, they weren’t chanting or yelling in delight or amazement, but it was more like they were studying us. We were separate species in a way, knowing little to nothing about the other, even if it was just a cultural difference, we were far from the same beings. One of the elephants reared a little too much. He toppled over onto his handler, presumably squashing him to death. A few tried to fix what had happened, though it was too late, and through the commotion I took my chances. I bolted towards the door, thinking nopony had saw me. The ashes had settled in the tent, but they were still light enough to where I would leave imprints where I stepped if I wasn’t too light. I carefully walked over to the door, making sure I stayed close to the sides of the tent, where the least amount of ash was, and when I made it to this mysterious door, I just stood there for a moment. I was afraid. But more than anything, I was something else, brave. Author's Note I didn't want to end it here, but it was the best possible cliffhanger. TIME TO WRITE THE CHAPTER I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE! ComplacencyThe door was heavy, opening it was not easy for a filly like me. I could feel the tense strain on my muscles. Those slop buckets were nothing compared to this door. Behind the door was the answer to my question, and the answer was a room, but not just any room, it was a room unlike any I had been in before, which is to say, very few. This room wasn’t made of metal, but of wood like the acrobat towers. Never before had it been used for a structure like this. There was furniture, real furniture, the kind for you to put stuff on instead of just the kind to sit on. It was like a bench on top of another bench on top of another bench, with a wall on the back of those benches. It had things inside of it, little boxes without a few sides, too small for anything of real important to be placed inside. There were windows, yellow and black windows, covered in what I believe to be tar and ash. Then there was a chair, but not an ordinary chair, this one was fancy, like for somepony of value and power. It looked comfy, very comfy, and so, realizing my fate for being just in this room, I gave into the temptation. I walked to the other side of the chair, wanting to sit down on it, only to jolt back at the sight of a sleeping pony. He was like the nurse, in that he had a partial mask. I could see the entire mouth on this one, with the star symbol placed on his forehead instead of on the traditional position of on the left cheekbone. I didn’t want to wake him, not just because he would most likely send me into exile, but because he looked peaceful. I could see scars on his face, much like the ones of #20429 from smiling. This pony had piercing holes along the edges of his visible face, they looked like that of the filly who burned to death in the fire not long ago. It had to be from the wire that kept the mask sewn to our face. I figured this one must have attempted to force his mask off, only to get so far. I looked down more, seeing as how he was shackled against the chair. I was shocked. I never thought that the star ponies would ever do this to their own, even those who fail are spared from death and exile only to be given another job, but yet this one is imprisoned here, seemingly. I wanted to leave so badly, but curiosity is a passive desire. I tried my best to exit the room, pushing myself towards that metal door, but the more strength I used, the more it drained, and I was forced back near the chair. There wasn’t anything of interest in the room that I could delve into safely. I had never seen the world outside of our tent before, not even the train we would eventually transport on had windows for the cargo. I couldn’t reach the window on my own, so I tried to push one of the layered benches over to the window. It didn’t take much effort, though some of the box things fell out as I moved it. I used a few to gain a little more height so I could get to the top of the layered bench. It was very unstable with me climbing up it. It wobbled when I got on top, but I gained balance over it. The window was heavily stained, obscuring my view of the outside, but not enough to see what was near. It was raining ash, large, the darkest of black, ash particles. They seemed to be hot, though not in any clear form of heat. The sun shined behind gray clouds, just like the sky. There were ruins of trees and buildings all around us. The trees were burnt to the stump. The buildings around varied from rubble to barely standing cement towers. What was structurally left intact of our society had been stained black on the outside, made of some kind of hard metal. The train had its own station, I couldn’t see exactly where, but its tracks darted out from a section restrained from my authorization. It all looked horrible, it was lifeless, how did we even survive, more importantly, how did we live? I lost my balance and leaned just a little too far back on the layered shelf, causing it to fall down at the base of the chair. I landed at the side of the bench. The small boxes had spread out all over. I didn’t respond to the pain of the fall, though I felt it very well. His eyes had opened when I looked back up. He didn’t struggle in his chains, nor looked shocked or confused or even angry, he looked pleased to see me. Neither said a word, though he should have, and I could not. He didn’t stare in some creepy way, but he kept looking at me. He wasn’t mad about the mess or that I had intruded, but he seemed saddened when I tried to leave again for a second time. I didn’t get very far, I know exactly how it is to feel lonely, even if I am always surrounded by other ponies. I don’t think he had anything, or anypony, I could change that. I turned back towards him and looked at the chains that kept him so still. He could’ve been a murderer or a savior, but I didn’t know, even if he told me I shouldn’t trust his word. Still, I persisted to look for a way to release him, if it were possible, just in case something changed. There were no locks, no creases, it was like he had been built in with the chair. “He-hello?” I was still unsure if he could speak. He gave no reply. “Why are you here?” I don’t know why I even asked. I gave him a few more questions, each went unanswered, and time came for me to return. The carnival wasn’t going to last all day. He kept on with his happy face, though saddened by my inevitable leave. Before I could get out he tried to get my attention one last time. He didn’t say anything, he mumbled though, or made some kind of noise and nodded towards a pile of those little box things. I picked one up for him and it fell apart in a way. It wasn’t all intact, slivers of it were unattached, but they had some kind of symbols on each surface. I turned each side back to how it was supposed to be and laid it on his lap. He didn’t like that. He leaned his head down and opened it with his face and just looked at it. I didn’t understand it at all, but I was out of time for questions. When I got back out to #20429, he had finished sweeping the hay. He asked where I had been and I told him all that had happened. #20429 was impressed with me, as I had fearful of it entirely the day before. It was just another surprise for this day to hold. He was curious, just like me, and perhaps tomorrow I would take him with me, if possible, to the discovery. There was still an hour or two left of the stage performances. They had moved onto the magic part of the show, the part I hated seeing the most. #20429 and I went back to the cage area again to be alone, friends in a world of enemies. It seemed we could talk forever, but mostly what we discussed now was about the room. I couldn’t describe it or the pony inside enough to satisfy him. He wasn’t smiling, but he was intrigued. I wanted to get off the subject, leave more mysteries to solve together, rather than assumptions, but he kept going towards his goal. It was nearing the end of the carnival, star ponies would be coming across this area soon, and I needed to get him to shut up. Though our masks covered majority of our faces, I could still do what I needed to do. I leaned over and looked into what was visible of his eyes, and moved closer. I gave him a kiss, one he took as passionate, but it wasn’t, not to me. He tasted of the cafeteria food, very unpleasant, but it made him shut up quickly. It was awkward afterwards, the bad kind of silence when nothing can be said. It was the one time I wanted a star pony to come across and tell us to get going. We went back to our beds and he kept looking back towards me for most of the night. I shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t regret it at all. Author's Note This will probably be the last update for a while. It won't be on purpose, but I won't be writing tomorrow, and I will probably forget to write more. I apologize for the rushed ending. Hieghtened SecurityThe next day, things were a lot more tense. There wasn’t going to be another carnival for a few days. The Taskmaster wasn’t pleased with the performances. We weren’t awoken by the buzzer, nor by the yelling of an Overseer, but instead by the crack of a whip. He came into the room, ready to lash a few for their failure to entertain. “Everypony up!” he screamed, cracking his whip once more. “Last night’s performance was complete and utterly made of shite!” Taskmaster pointed towards the smallest unicorn filly from my row. “You, get up here!” She walked to him, shaking, terrified of the imminent actions. “This is what will happen if you smirk off on your duties!” He struck down on her, smiting her in the face with his whip. Her mask shattered in many places, stabbing her with shrapnel. Blood spurted from her head. She shrieked in pain, only provoking him more than before. One lash, two lash, three lash, four, all until she was on the ground, blinded and useless. It was a gory sight, but the worst part was the look on the Taskmaster. I couldn’t see past his mask to see his facial expression, but there was something telling me he enjoyed it. It wasn’t as much joy as anything else, it was less, it was a chill expression, a calm one, a terrible one for this situation. He felt no guilt, never did, how far could he hurt us before he feels again for his fellow kind? She laid there, almost lifeless, after many lashes, it was impressive how much she had taken, but not something I wished to compete with. Blood trickled down her body, forming a pool around her. She was as good as dead. He yelled at us to get to work, forcing us to leave our sister unattended, not like all of us would if an option were given anyways. I wondered what I had missed that she had done, or failed to do, that caused such an outburst. Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to visit the door today, but what comes from a good idea that doesn’t end out to be bad? I fought myself over this decision for the entire shower. Some of us were more still than usual. More statue than ever, if that was possible, and apparently it was. She never entered the locker room. None of us had any idea of her condition. I worried for that stranger, who I had known for years, but never really known. The ability to converse made into a curse. Such a wonderful ability, priced so high, and punished so heavy. I mostly kept towards my usual grounds for the rest of the day. #20429 kept trying to be flirty with me, due to that regretful kiss I gave him the night before. He was so touchy, even though he knew if they saw us over-communicating with each other that horrible things would happen, he kept trying. I tried to hint him to bug off, but he wouldn’t. What have I done? The entertainers worked very hard today, practicing to right whatever wrongs they had done yesterday. Nopony wanted to end up like that filly, as punishments were surely to get worse. How bad were the punishments for the older performers? They must be good after so many years, but to be flawless in this damaged society seems impossible. As I looked back towards the door, nothing different appeared since yesterday. It was the same old door, not even a star pony was guarding the tent that housed it. #20429 mentioned that he wanted to go inside of it, to meet the pony inside the odd room. I kept telling him no, kept telling him that I wouldn’t go with him, at least not today, not after what happened to the filly. Still he kept on, no matter how many times I rejected to go with him today, whether it be to the room, or somewhere else, he persisted. It was annoying, not the kind of annoying to be cute or to get your attention, just the kind that eventually made you give in, the kind that made you like them a little less just for doing it. In truth, I wanted to as much as him, probably more, but he was scared to go alone, I was scared to be caught, and those two reasons are very different, just like those who possess the reasoning behind it. It was just to be impressive for him, he didn’t care about the punishment, as long as he got to live a little more there was no punishment enough to stop him. I was jealous of this, even if it was stupidity. We never went into the room. The star ponies came and got us, sent us to lunch, and again, we kept whispering, and when we got the feeling that they were listening, we stopped whispering and talked with our food. He stopped talking about the door, and more about me and him, us. It was a subject I wasn’t the most comfortable with, since he expected so much, he expected we were something, but we weren’t. It was only a kiss. I wanted nothing from him, at least nothing like he did, it wasn’t allowed, it wouldn’t be possible. The star ponies entered the room every now and then, even though they were already watching us. Maybe it was just a ruse and that there were no cameras on us or maybe they had to be sure of something that the camera couldn’t focus on. One of them came in with a notepad, writing something down, like he was observing us for something more. Most of us kept our heads down, like we were supposed to, but it never felt right. When they directed us towards our beds, there were changes to the room. Subtle ones, the floor had been washed, the first time it ever had been during our stay. It was frightening, they didn’t like change, what could be provoking it? The Taskmaster came into the room, he didn’t say nothing, just walked in for a second and left. This would go on for the next few weeks, high security, total fear, lashes everyday, and most importantly, curiosity. Author's Note I'm not to proud on how I ended this chapter, but I wanted to get it out of the way for the next. CausticAges went by before security went back to normal. #20429 and I didn’t return to the door during those weeks. We didn’t speak much during that time either. Things were kind of dead all around the carnival. I could always see many in the crowd becoming bored by the same routines being replayed over and over for years. There was a lack of imagination, and with it, enthusiasm. Their entertainment was our responsibility. It was odd. We couldn’t change anything in the carnival, everything was handled by these seemingly emotionless star ponies. How could dull minds make creative changes? That’s the thing about growing up, once you’re there, you kill the child you used to be. I don’t remember being a child. Sure, one could say I still am a child at my age, but being a child isn’t about age, it’s about a whole lot more than that. The Taskmaster still thought it was a brilliant idea to whip us after the carnival to “improve” ourselves. Hell, what did I know? Maybe it was a great idea, probably a safer idea, but it wasn’t pleasant at all, it was just horrible. He threatened to do worse if things would not improve during the next carnival. I hoped the others knew what they were doing. It was the morning of what would be our last carnival in Baltimare before our preparations towards Canterlot. It was, at an angle, an exciting move. We didn’t hear much about the other cities, as none of the Baltimare ponies, who were in eavesdrop distance, had ever been to or never talked of the city, not even their own city was a topic. We, and by that I mean I, was so curious of the outside. It seemed dull, but even here, we clowns saw the world grey. I got up, or rather I woke before the others. I sat there, staring at the ceiling for quite some time, for reasons unbeknownst to me. I was glad we were leaving soon, but this was my home, no matter how much I hated it. It seemed like an eternity would go by before the siren went off and the others woke. We went back into our usual routine, showering, putting on our disguises, and addressing our tools. There was, as usual, little work for me to do today. Since the security had been going down, I had planned to visit the door possibly one last time. I still wondered if the mysterious star pony was there, chained as before. Only time would tell, but I didn’t exactly have a whole lot of time left. Most, if not all, of my answers about the chained pony, about the odd room, about the world outside, they would go unanswered. I would have to deal with it, as curious as I was, but it couldn’t hurt to take but a peek into the restriction. As soon as we were shut out of the locker room, I darted off towards my area in hopes to look eager at work for the Taskmaster and his overseers. They paid no attention to my little area, giving me all the time in the world to spend with #20429 and his constant thoughts about that kiss. I could tell he liked me, he didn’t try to hide it, he thought I wanted him, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. He knew I was planning to head back to the room, just by the way I kept turning my head towards it, always looking around to see if it was clear enough to take off towards it. I needed a distraction though, it was easier during the carnival when they did more than just watch us. #20429 knew this too. I waited about two hours for a chance, but sometimes in life you have to make your own and take them, even if they’re slim. The manticore had been acting up today, she was in heat, she was riled up with the need for another. It was perfect. I went over to its cage and unlatched the first of three locks. I would’ve gladly let #20429 help me on this, but we needed at least one handler to stay behind to keep the illusion alive. After the second lock, it started banging on the door, the third latch was bending, breaking under her superb strength. It shattered its way through, leveling the sides of the cart. She gave her mighty roar before storming away. I heard the terrified scream of another pony of in the distance. Some yelled for handlers to get her tied, others ran. In the heat of it all, I sprinted towards the door. I didn’t even look to see if an overseer was watching me, it just seemed like they wouldn’t be. The door seemed lighter today. I couldn’t explain why. Maybe I was stronger, or maybe the world was simply weaker. I opened the room to a disturbing scent. It was cold, yet burning at the same time. The window was opened for some reason. I didn’t know how, he was still chained there, there was no way he did it. Ashes from the sky fell into the room, slowly filling up the floor. His mask was yellowing, turning frail. His skin had patches where there was no skin at all, just patches of flesh. It wasn’t natural. I could feel my lungs burning. I couldn’t stay here long, but I wanted answers to questions I didn’t have. As I walked over to his body, surely screaming on the inside, he just sat there and gave me the same look as before. I could see the pain in his eyes, no tears necessary. His mask began to crack before I could even give the mute my first question. I knew damn well that he couldn’t answer them at this point. He was dying, nothing stopping that. As his mask fell apart, I noticed something similar to something before. The wire that held it to his face began to melt, spilling out of the holes in his face. It fell to the floor, piece by piece. It was the first time I had seen anypony’s face before, but in truth I didn’t see it. It was all gone now, just like his mask, falling on the floor. I looked at the chains, they were unaffected by this caustic air. There was nothing I could do to free him, but I still yanked on the chains. I tried to pull him out, but with each pull he lost more of his limbs. There was no escape for him. I looked down once more at the chains, only to see my skin beginning to bubble. There was no time left. I gave him a tear as I left, but no more than one. I had to stay strong, even if this was no display of strength. It was silent when I entered the main tent again. I could see them in the center circle with the manticore lying there, motionless, surrounded by handlers and overseers. I tried to hurry back and blend in but a hoof caught my mane and pulled me off towards Taskmaster. He greeted the overseer who grabbed me with a laugh, punched me in the face, and told him to take me to his quarters. I was scared. I tried to fight the overseer but everytime I struggled, he screamed at me and hit me again. He popped a few of those blisters that I had recently developed. I could feel blood and pus roll down my body. I stopped struggling about halfway to the Taskmaster’s quarters. I had no idea what was going to happen, I didn’t want to. The overseer threw me into the room, I slammed into a desk in a pitch black area, he closed the door and turned on the lights, just standing there, waiting for his boss to arrive. He just kept standing there, probably smirking behind his mask. He knew very well what was going to happen to me. Death, exile, whipping, I was scared, but I was ready. I just wished I could’ve said goodbye to #20429. The train would be leaving soon, and I probably wasn’t going to board it with him. The Taskmaster opened the room, laughing with another of his colleagues. The overseer left on his command, wishing me good luck, as if it were luck that I needed to be good to me. “So,” he began, getting out a glass of something strong, “you’d think we wouldn’t have known, did you?” “N-no, sir.” “Then explain to me why you defaulted on your duties and ventured beyond your understandings!” he took a swig of his drink. “I don’t know!” “Then I shall remind you! Come here!” Taskmaster came at me, out of instinct I swatted at him. He came back with his hoof, smacking me to the ground. I could taste blood. He grabbed my throat and picked me off the floor. I couldn’t breathe as he grasped tighter and tighter. The world started the turn black and motionless. Then he threw me against his desk, only to pull me on top of it. The Taskmaster started to kiss me, I struggled to keep my head away from him, but he forced himself against me. I was pinned, but still I kicked him, though my front hooves were trapped under his might. He hit me again to keep me from fighting back but I kicked upright into his face. He fell backwards and I pushed myself off the desk. He came around and grabbed my hind hooves as I tried to crawl towards the door. I could feel him near my backside. I started screaming, crying my eyes out. I wasn’t ready for this. When it was all over, while I was there, stuck in a pool of my own blood and tears, while he was drinking in his seat, the overseer came back. He said something about the train coming here early. That was all I wanted to hear at that point. Apparently it came early, but still it was late for me. I was sent, or dragged to be exact, towards the train. I could barely move. The pain was immense on my body, but deathly in my mind. The others were already lined when we reached the hallway to the train. I kept close to #20429 when the overseer left. I didn’t say a word, he knew I was hurting, but I didn’t give him anything but silence. And so, I boarded the train as a new mare. Author's Note So... I wrote this Sorry for the rape :c TraverseI slept for hours, or well, I pretended to. In reality, I wouldn’t sleep at all tonight. #20429 tried to wake me and talk to me. I ignored him. It’s not like we could talk about anything other than where we’re going. The train was very dark, almost pitch black. The only light that came through was of the window, which couldn’t give us much as we had been in a tunnel since we left the city. There was no internal lighting. All the seats were cold, and metallic. Every muscle in my body ached from the uncomfortableness of the train, but more so from the events before the boarding. The others chatted amongst themselves, only questioning where they were going. We all knew damn well where we were going. It was our turn for the Capital, but nothing looked like what we thought it would be. The overseers and Taskmaster always spoke of it as a place for high remorse, as if it were some sort of heavenly place away from all the darkness. After a while, all noise was overcome by the train as it began squealing. We had slowed down quite a bit, before we all jolted forward to the sudden stop. I slammed into the seat in front of me, my nose smashed into it. It started to bleed, but I could only feel it. My blood dripped down my body, still warm. The train started again, going very slowly. There was a slight increase in light now. The windows revealed more. I could see now more of the world outside. We had exited the tunnel and the train was stopping at a very peculiar village. It wasn’t walled off like Baltimare. The place was made of rusted metal, and some sort of orange plant, wrapping around everything. There was a small platform for the train to stop at. Ponies sat there, waiting, mostly workers wearing assorted masks, the most common being the butterfly mask, all surrounded by soldiers. The soldiers were still outnumbered, but they had fear on their side. Most of the soldiers are and will always be, unarmed, but if its a match with our physical skill, what keeps the revolts from happening? They all wore a different kind of mask though. They still had clear marking and similar style, but the snout came out more on their masks with an interesting tube attached. They all wore thick, rubbery clothing too. It was uneven, protective, but still being eaten away by the pollution. They started boarding the train into a separate cart. We were imprisoned in our own, as they were in theirs, forbidden from conversing with one another. The train pulled up a little bit, our cart passing the platform, and stopping several carts later. The cart at the platform opened, letting out a new batch of ponies. This batch was similar to the ones who got on board. They looked around with a nostalgic perspective. It was the last thing I noticed as the train took off again, before the soldiers forced them into the buildings. 20429 had noticed my bleeding nose. I tilted my head up trying to stop it. He didn’t know what to do but watch. It stopped after about ten minutes. I was covered in it by the time it had stopped. It felt weird whenever I moved a joint, as the blood had dried and crinkled at the joint movement. There wasn’t any older pony in our cart for myself to receive help for my bloody nose, but at least it was just a bloody nose. It didn’t feel broken at all. We traveled for another few miles outside of the tunnel. Things were going fine. We stopped at a few more little villages and traded groups. The train seemed to be fueled by some sort of fire, as smoke billowed out, and lots of it too, thick, black smoke that never rose too high. You could see it for miles and it wouldn’t be spread out much at all. It was just one, continuous, low cloud, covering our tracks. I watched them for miles as a similar darkness began to find its way through the entire sky. #20429 tried to get closer to me. At first, I simply refused because his touch refiled with the dried blood flakes, but I grew tired, and he was restless to find my side. I knew how he felt towards me, but I didn’t understand it. We were still young, I was almost a mare, but colts and stallions were not a focus in my life. I wished I could feel the same way towards him as he did me. I allowed him to get closer, allowed him to lie with me. I embraced his warmth as we laid on the uncomfortable seat. It was still fun. He fell asleep on me, but I could not still. I watched the smoke for miles until it blended with the sky. The train was filled with the sound of snoring ponies until the engine busted up. It clanked hard and loud, shaking the train. It slowed down before stopping. Many on board woke up and looked out. We couldn’t see much, but the operators got to work fast. Hours past before the train started again. It was going really slow this time, but they weren’t going to keep us stranded out here. I could see the sun coming back up by the time we started up. We were going through mountains when in the distance, a city. It was planted on the remains of a mountain, more of a hill now, the hollowed out parts were still visible from here. The city itself was like an egg, concealed by its sphere wall. The train squealed again, not by choice. From the window we could see up ahead, there was a few bodies lying on the ground, charred. They were accompanied by three ponies. They stared into each train cart as it passed by. The burned bodies looked like farmers. One of them was strung up on a pole. What was left of his body had been melting onto the ground by now. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. I guessed it as anti-revolt propaganda. We sped back to our former speed as soon as every cart had passed the scene. #20429 had slept through it the entire time, and I would’ve kept it that way. We came close to the city now. I could see all the graffiti painted on its walls as we came by. The wall had large panels missing, or eaten away. There was a large amount of workers trying to repair it. As we entered the tunnel, you could see the reasons why it was described so highly by the Taskmaster. The place was huge, shiny, classy, and very advanced. It had hallways made of crystal glass. If I looked up, it was like it was a city based on its wrong side. The masked ponies had interesting designs on their masks. Everything was amazing. It was like the city itself was happy. Sometimes we could see ponies wearing clothes for the fun of it. It was very interesting. Though, all the ponies I saw were star ponies. I had never envied them so much until now. And then we passed into another tunnel. This is when the disappointment hit. We saw where we would be placed. I figured it was at the bottom center of the city. It was a large area, another sphere area. There was large, clear leaks that dripped down liquids that looked horrendous. When we reached the station and got off, we met with a large group of star ponies. We waited for them to speak first, as usual, but they wouldn’t. The train moved forward a few carts before letting out some more ponies. It did this again, leaving us with a very large group, about five times the size of our original. The center star pony came forward once we were all there. “Listen!” she started, “I am Preceptor, you shall only see me at rare times. I am the deity here. The Taskmasters here report everything to me, just as the overseers to them. You will do as you are told. No more, no less. You will be shown to your rooms in a short time. I will leave you with your respected Taskmasters. This will be just as you were at your last city. I abide you farewell for now.” The Preceptor left, a few overseers following. There were four Taskmasters left in front of us. One of them was but a young mare, no more older than five plus our own age. She looked nervous, but friendly. The other three were older, probably in their middle adulthood. One of them spoke up amongst the rest. “Children! You shall refer to myself as Taskmaster Octavian. I will be the director of the animal department. This,” he pointed to the one with a large scar on his front leg, “is Taskmaster Un, he is the one in charge of punishment.” He nudged towards the other older pony. “Taskmaster Haven, in charge of the creative changes. And finally, my beautiful daughter, Taskmaster Fera, she is our magic instructing protegee.” They turned and went down a hallway, not even saying a word, but we followed anyways. They stopped at a crossway. Octavian ordered for the tamers to follow him down one hallway, Fera had the unicorns go down her hallway, and the few left, #20429, some other duds, and I, followed Un and Haven down the left hallway. I had hoped he would show us the stage or at least our animals, but we just kept walking, he didn’t even stop at a janitors closet and tell us to clean. We walked for a long time, never crossing an intersection. After long, we reached a dark, damp room. He turned on a light and showed us to strange devices. Many of them were covered by cloth. He didn’t say a word, just showed us to a box shaped device. A door opened in the room as the Preceptor entered the room with his overseers. It was all confusing to me. “Greetings again, children,” he said. We stayed silent, knowing what speech would get us. “Pick one, I’m just the jester here,” Un said. Preceptor chuckled. “I hear one of you had slipped away from a real punishment before leaving for Canterlot.” Did he mean me? “You’ll be lucky to find that I find thrill in the guessing game.” He started walking back and forth in front of our assembled line. A minute later, he stopped at #20429. “A fine and healthy subject. Come, Jester, for the joke needs its punchline.” Un put his hooves on the cloth of his box device. “Come here, little one, for its time I show you real magic.” I nodded at him not to, but it would do no good either way. #20429 walked towards Un. He tore the cloth off the box. It was made of glass, reinforced by steel. “I’m going to simply make you disappear!” Un opened the box. “Are you ready? Get in, my magnificient assistant!” “Ah, finally, I’ve waited to see this one at work,” said Preceptor. 20429 got in the device. All seemed well for him. There appeared to be a fan of some sort at both the top and bottom of the device, as his mane was flowing every which way. It seemed too innocent, and it was. Next thing I hear is him yelling “ow!” He had been cut somehow, and then again, and again. They were small cuts, not enough to bleed, but noticeable. Then I saw what was happening. Small glass flakes were being dumped through the top fan into the box. Un slammed the door some more, and #20429 voice was too muffled to be heard now. Bigger flakes began to dump into the box. The cut became larger. He was bleeding now, cut everywhere on his body, shredding up so quickly. Glass kept dumping into the vortex. He was bleeding everywhere. His body was deteriorating slowly. All the blood and waste fell into the bottom fan, disappearing. Un just kept dumping more glass into the box, so much that he was screaming, trying to protect himself. I couldn’t handle it. I was screaming too, I tried to hit the box and get him out, but Un kicked me when I got close. I could see his bones now as he melted away. He was sparkling as he died. He placed his hoof’s bone on the glass. His stomach had been cut up so much that his inner organs were becoming visible. His eyes were gone, cut open, and what was left was too gruesome to look at. I went back at the box, trying to break him out again, it was too late but I didn’t care. Un kicked me again, and two overseers came and grabbed me. I tried to fight back, but they were too strong. They dragged me away, back down the hallway we came from. I screamed and fought the entire way. I could hear their laughter over my screams. Those bastards were sick and twisted. I would’ve done anything to hold my lover again, but it was too late. Author's Note Had to make it Mature because of that last scene. I kinda wanna start a sequel to this, but it ain't too popular anyways. I guess that's better, cause I would've made it shorter, which it'll have the same ending either way, just rushed more in the between chapters. ThreadThey dragged me for eons. When they stopped, we had arrived at another office door. It was styled after a laboratory, shiny, clean, and unique. They opened the door and shoved me inside. There sat Taskmaster Fera, writing something down in her large document book, just beside all her curious looking alembic tools and other odd items. She had one particular tool in her office next to a mask, attached to a skull. I looked closer to see that the threading in the mask was loose. The tool looked like an odd pair of tweezers, but smaller and made of some sort of black onyx. “Oh,” Fera said, “I didn’t see you with the other unicorns, how are you, sweetie?” I was shocked at the sincere kindness in her voice. “I’m… I’m good?” “Good to hear it! Were you a late comer from from the badlands plantation? I’ve tried to persuade them into building an actual train station there instead of those silly caravans. What is your name, err… number, dear?” There was no hesitation in stating it, “#20443, ma’am.” “Well, it is nice to meet you. I’d give you the normal introduction, as the other unicorns under my teachings, but I see a more personal greeting is in order here. I am Taskmaster Fera. I’ll be in charge of showing you, and the other unicorns, how to achieve success in the future of your magic skills. The others are in training right now, but I’ll be needing to show you some stuff before I send you there.” Fera grabbed something from her desk drawer. It was a small crystal gem. “With these gems, you can empower your magic abilities inside them and use them for later reserve, or as tools for when you are not around. Watch!” She blasted the gem with her magic, illuminating it with a purple aura. I had no idea what she would say when she saw that I wasn’t possessing any magical abilities. I hoped she would have a lot to show me about this and then just send me off to bed before I needed to show her. She then placed the gem into a jar, and shook it. The jar became a lantern, lighting the room in a purple light. It was interesting, for some, but for somepony like myself, it was dull. I wished I could use it though, just so I would feel more like a unicorn, and less like a failure. A knock at the door, an overseer entering the room. “Excuse me,” Fera said, “I’ll be right back, sweetie.” Her kindness was becoming unsettling. As soon as the door closed and they had left, I went straight for the strange, onyx tweezers. I had no idea how to use it at first, but I knew where the threads were. I pulled at the first, mostly clipping some of it. It took me a bit to understand how it worked, but as soon as I did, I was pulling about every thread out, but left about three in so that the mask would stay on my face. There was no pain or blood, as the holes were like piercings, and the skin just grew around the threads. It felt good to have air enter the piercing holes. It was cold, but invigorating for the soul in ways that I can’t quite describe. I would’ve torn the whole mask off if there was a way to see myself, but even in the reflective crystalline walls, nothing came back but in blur. It was disappointing, but I accepted the fact that my face would never be known to me. I went back in front of the desk and sat down, waiting for Fera to come back, but she never did. The Preceptor entered the room, and sat down in her desk. I did not speak, fearing his wrath. It was he who spoke first, eventually. “It’s about time for the carnival act, little one. I hope you don’t disappoint. You proved a good laugh back in the showroom.” I said nothing. “Are you mute, filly? Speak! For the next act is for those with deafened ears!” I didn’t know what he meant. I hated the way the preceptor spoke. He kept his ranting up for a bit before he ordered two overseers to come and get me. They dragged me out into the hallway again and took me towards a doorway far down the hallway. The two spoke to each other, saying how the stage was filled already and that they didn’t like missing as much as they have already. They didn’t say what was going on out there, only that it was exciting for them. I was afraid. I wanted to take off my mask in front of the Taskmasters as soon as I got out there. I wanted to make the unharmable bleed. I wanted to die a little bit too. I didn’t want it to end though, its a confusing feeling, like you’ve given your all but you just need to rest for a bit so you could get back up. As we came closer to the doors, I could hear some screaming, but nothing too bad. I didn’t know what to expect out there, but I was ready for it, even if I was frightened. Every challenge so far, I’ve overcome. From the near death experience, to the boiling skin, watching the older star pony melt away, watching my best friend die, the rape. Whatever they had next, could only go so far. I would fight it, and whether or not I win, it doesn’t matter, as long as I resist them. My silence would be amplified by the many. The door was right in front of us now. The overseers put me down to open the door, and I did not run. I could’ve, but even if I got far, there was little point in running when fighting is necessary. The enlightment of death was coming quickly, I could feel it. Author's Note Sorry, I had already written the last chapter and the gap was hard to write. I don't like this chapter at all, but its better than the other gap chapters I wrote. FinaleThe overseers slammed the doors opened and threw me onto the stage. I had never seen it before. It was astonishingly gruesome. Blood stained walls, bones sticking from the stage floor. It was no carnival, but a sacrificial arena. I looked up to see my fellow colleagues going through dangerous, and sometimes, death ensuring, obstacles or tasks. The pegasi had their wings clamped down when they walked the tight ropes, the animal handlers had no protection or leashes, no tools in which to keep order. It didn’t seem normal. Perhaps they lied to us about the twenty year cycle before, maybe it was just one cycle, and then we’re all diverted here for an end. Taskmaster Un’s machines had been brought out, spikes everywhere. One of the animal handlers walked into a bear trap when backing away from his manticore. He screamed, but not for long, as the manticore would soon find another treat after him. I looked towards the blasphemous crowd, they were less than Baltimare, but the audience was all star ponies. The flecks of purple reflected so well together that you wouldn’t have seen an audience from afar, just a wall pattern. They were protected by some form of forcefield magic. I walked forward into the stage, going slow in order to keep away the raging manticore’s attention. One of the pegasi fell from a tower, dying instantly as he met the ground. The animals found their new treat. I didn’t see any magic users yet. I seemed to be the only unicorn out here. I looked up again to see who was left on the towers, very few. There was a large cage up on the roof. It looked like a torch to light the place up, but I knew well what it was. Perhaps it was some kind of oil bomb, or a phoenix, either way, it was the finishing act. I looked for protection, finding that the many rocky structures on the floor of the stage would do little against the manticore. Still, they would make for a best bet. I ran for one as he still fed upon his treat. He had been starved, clearly, as he ate the bones with him, even the mask too. The other stage entrances opened up, revealing cages. More animals arrived. There was a small, wild dragon walking on four legs, and restless wings. Another was a beast I had never seen before, it illuminated slightly, and was monstrous in detail. The thing looked as if a creature of slime and sut, moving illogically. It was living tar. The manticore had poked his head back up, finishing his snack. Few ponies were left on the stage floor. The dragon took for the towers. The other two stalked around. Nopony was trying to take control anymore. Their training was nonexistent in this moment. The tar monster devoured, or dissolved a pony before my eyes. He screamed until his mouth was covered. I ran behind a new rock foundation. I tried to close my eyes and forget what was happening. It was silly for me to think hiding would do any good. The creatures would eventually find me and end my life. I didn’t expect any of this when they took me away. I had hoped that I could have a chance to change all this, but instead, I would be silenced in a roaring applause. After a while, there were only about five of us left. The dragon was still up in the towers. When I opened my eyes, the tar monster was gone, but in his place, the manticore. I yelled as he came near me, tears rolling down my face. This was it, my ending. He got closer to me, and I crawled as far as I could into the chasm of the rock formation. I started throwing pebbles at him, but it did no good. There was a large cracking sound from behind me, I couldn’t tell what it was. As the manticore pushed his opened mouth at me one final time, the tar monster found itself out of ponies, but craving manticore. It had grabbed the foot of the manticore, distracting it from me. I ran as it started consuming the beast. As I came around the backside of my former fortress, I could see the cause of the cracking noise. The dragon’s weight and damage to one of the towers had become too much. It was breaking, and in one final second, it began to fall near my direction. I ducked as it fell. I heard a scream as a pony was crushed by its effect. The dragon, out of victims, landed itself near me. The tar monster would soon be after me too. The rocks would hold no protection from it. I ran up the fallen tower out of instincts. The dragon followed, and I started tearing off wood from the tower to throw at it. Once again, not helpful. When the tar monster came for me, it went after the dragon too. The two battled, unlike the manticore, who could do nothing. The dragon reigned fire on the tar, slowing it down as it came upon the dragon. They struggled together for a bit, and I ran towards the tip of the structure for a safe distance from the flames. The tar monster began to harden, dying from the heat. The dragon was stuck within it as he died, unable to move his legs, nor his neck. It could not break free. I was safe. I turned towards the crowd, being one of the ponies last standing, as I could see another still breathing, coming out from under a rock. I looked at them all, giving them each a stare. The Preceptor was in the crowd, and he stared back, defeated. The Taskmasters surrounded him, silent, just as he was. It was an awkward moment for them, as for the first time, they were no longer gods. It was in this moment that I put my hoof to my mask and painfully tugged it off, tearing the last few threads out with it. Blood dripped out the seems as my mask finally came off. One of the Taskmasters came forward, it was Fera, the youngest and supportive of them all. She lit up her horn. I didn’t understand what she meant with this. The sound of metal gears moving came from above. The finale was here. I looked up towards the fiery abyss, to see nothing but smoke fall. When it touched the ground, nightmares formed. Appearing before me, a shadow, the shadow of a pony. It had no mask, no face, nothing but darkness beyond black. It stared at me, and I, it. The wraith seemed unfurled, peaceful, and friendly. I was scared. There had been nothing like this before. As it came towards me, my vision faded. I grew tired, ready to sleep for a thousand years, if possible. Everything around me went silent and blinding. This was my end. Author's Note Woohoo! Now you can wait for the sequel if I ever actually start writing it.
ConceloIt began with a dream, just how every night ends, just how every morning begins. This one subtle as it slipped from my mind. Different from the rest as the blur came in and the memories of it slipped away. I was standing in the center of a stage. The main act I suppose. I knew it was a dream just by that fact, as a pony like me would’ve never been able to get so far. I didn’t want to wake, even though my dream was focused on my nightmares, it was still better than reality. The sirens blared, their high pitched squeals cutting through in sequences. They were old, very old, causing the devices to sound horrid upon start. It was enough to drive anypony insane over time. I opened my eyes, getting straight into the daily routine. The same technique and motions for getting out of bed, the same amount of time for rubbing my eyes, even if they were irritated or not, the same ponies all around me. The room was red. Bright, flashing red as the sirens call continued into our ears. Today started the same as every other day. I expected it to end the same too. We all got out of our beds in a messy order, but all together at that. We marched ourselves towards the showers, all young fillies and colts, all wearing different masks. These masks became us. We were given them straight from birth. Each has a number. Mine’s number Twenty Thousand, Four Hundred and Forty Three. I’ve never seen my face. Nopony has, nor their own. Mirrors were banned from Equestria long ago. I’m not even sure what a mirror is; I heard it was some sort of glass that showed us what we looked like, some sort of abomination in the eyes of our culture. Anyways, these masks that we have are given at random. Each has a symbol, along with a number. These symbols represent our jobs later in life. There are about 6 symbols. I unfortunately got stuck with the balloons. This symbol means I must work in entertainment, which is strict to the carnival. I am forced to care for the animals. It’s not the choice I would take for a job, but I didn’t get to pick it. In this day and age, you were either good at your job or you were gone within a day or two. It had only happened a few times before to our class. Next day they were replaced with a random somepony who could do the job. We entered the showers, each one of us still tired. The shower room was large, white, and tiled. There were no walls, no curtains, nothing to give us privacy. A window above part of the wall revealed them watching us, making sure we did nothing out of step. They wanted us to know, fearing what we would do if we thought we weren’t watched for just a second. We lined up. Each to their own shower. Our watchers soon turned each on. letting the waters flow onto our filthy souls. It poured down, cold and uncomfortable. It was one of their many ways to keep us down. I stayed still, just like the others. We were statues for five minutes, doing nothing more than staring blankly at the wall. The water shut off. We each walked out of the shower room in single file, each as quiet as the next. Entering a new room, the preparations room we had come to calling it whenever speaking was allowed, another totally white room with camera’s watching us. They had camera’s just about everywhere. Here were a few benches to sit down, towels to dry off, and old, rusty lockers in which we kept our personal job attire. Some split off from the line just as they had since they started. The benches and lockers were lined in rows. The room was humid, not the place you wanted to be on a warm day but we never really had a choice. The only time we had to ourselves was out in the carnival tent when the camera’s weren’t directly on us, and even then it wasn’t something we wanted to do. It came my turn to split off, four others followed behind me for our row. I sat down at the end, right next to my locker. It was mostly rust, barely able to hold my tool belt. It was really all I needed. The animals each had a different tool so they decided it was best that I keep them near the animals instead of bundled in my locker. I opened it up, grabbing my towel and dried my body. The showers were never enough to get rid of the filth. I would always be stained with dirt. I went for my belt. Taking it and strapping onto my body. I was always the first one done as the others had different jobs. We never really bonded much even though we were stuck together for the rest of our lives. See, each carnival gets it’s own set of children. The carnivals move from one city to the next every year. This carnival season was coming to an end and soon we would take the train from Baltimare to Canterlot. It was spring, the time for preparing for the next season. We never switched cities during winter as the trains became difficult to transport, or so they tell us. Nopony really ever goes during winter anyways. Back to the set. After twenty-something years they dump the carnival workers into the badlands due to reasons unknown. After that they pick up the new batch of fillies and colts who got the rare balloon marked masks. These fillies knew their parents for about one year of their life, depending on when they started being able to remember. For some it is traumatizing to be taken away, some are even killed if they can’t get over it, for others like me we just keep it bottled up only to cry about it once every few years. At age five we are put into practice with the carnival. They randomly give us a job, which is mostly based off our race, earth ponies usually take care of the animals, pegasi are usually the daredevil acts or whatnot’s, and the unicorns are clearly for magic if they are skilled enough. At age seven we start our first carnival. We’re given a very low budget at first. No large animals or fancy cannons to shoot ourselves from. We have to earn our equipment through impacting the audience with entertainment. Anything to keep them from rioting is what I was always lead to believe. They never let us out of the grounds so learning about the world outside was impossible. All I knew was we were afraid of falling water, there was a thing called a “sun,” and we didn’t have to keep all nature locked up to keep it safe. The world outside was scorched, burned by something. They always told us that the badlands looked like this back when we still had plants and free-roaming animals. The last colt in my row finished. I think his number was Twenty Thousand, Four Hundred and Twenty Nine. It’s hard to remember sometimes but all the ponies in my row had the same first three digits so if we ever got in a conversation we called them by the last two. He was some sort of pegasus. His fur was a light gray and his mane looked as if it were stained by oil. He worked on the cannon that I spoke of earlier, shooting other pegasi into the air to do magnificent tricks. I don’t recall him being an original here. He just showed up one day a month ago, or maybe I hadn’t noticed him until then. We all stood up once more, heading out of the preparation room and finally into the carnival tent. We went through a narrow hallway, unable to go side by side. I had to wait for two lines of ponies until I could go. The air became cold and dry. The ground was damp somehow. The overall area was lightened in red. Red tent, red poles, red stages, and red cages. I never understood why since all places we know outside of this carnival are white, black, or gray. We split off in our job directions. Some to the main area, a place filled with acrobatic hula hoops, ropes, and everything else for their position. The unicorns who could do magic of an extraordinary level went off behind stage. Never knew what they did back there other than the obvious but there was always an explosion or some sort of fire started back there that we had to put out. I headed with the earth ponies towards the animal cages, along with #20429 as he was more of an engineer than an acrobat, unlike his brethren. We were the only non-earth ponies that worked in said area. Through the open area we came to a place filled with cages that formed into a perfect square. Some of the cages were made of wood and placed on carts. These usually held large animals in abundance or the occasional lion, tiger or bear. Other cages were placed inside of the square formation, ones made of metal and dug into the ground. We weren’t allowed to know what creatures were inside of these cages, but their eyes... their eyes shine bright when they look up and into our own. And finally there was one cage, one that was outside of the formation entirely. It was placed where all could see it: above the show part of the tent. This cage was made to show whatever was in it, even though there was nothing. It was made of glass and held by magic above the tight ropes. As soon as we entered the square we each split off individually towards our specified jobs. Which meant each earth pony went to a cage and let an animal out so they could train them somewhere else. I however had to stay and feed them. I walked towards the lions cage first. He was a brute. His fur was filthy, never cleaned. His eyes were bloodshot, draining you of confidence. And his roar, terrible as it could possibly be for a lion. He wasn’t too big, or at least I think he wasn’t. He was the only lion I knew, he was like a pet. I grabbed the bucket near his cage, already filled with his slop for the morning, as usual, and threw it in the cage as I was terrified to even enter it. He’d snarl at me before paving his way into the blasphemous meat. The task was done, at least for the lion. I went on to the next animal, our very own Hominem Portabitque Porcum, a tainted bear, half hairless, with the head of a pig. It stood on his hind legs when it walked around, if it ever did, most of the time it just sat in it’s cage. It wasn’t a huge audience grabber, surprisingly. Once more, I grabbed his specific bucket and attempted to throw the slop into his cage. This creature ate something awful, heavy in stench and weight. I picked it, or at least endeavored to, but I failed with one hoof. I grasped it once again, this time with both and heaved it up as high as I could, which still wasn’t enough to dump it in there. I gave myself a jump from the ground in an attempt to spill it in. The bear gave his notice towards me, turning his body my way. I could see the impatience and hunger in his eyes. Finally, I jumped with enough power that I got the bucket through and dumped his food. Unfortunately for me, the creature missed. I screamed in pain as its claws dug into my front leg, blood climbing out of the wound, not much but more than I wanted. I couldn’t get free, his claw would rip more of my leg if I tried to get away from the cage. I was stuck there in pain. Pain and misery. This was all I could feel. I watched as my hoof went from a pristine white coat to a lambent crimson. I could see him running towards me, #20429, dropping all his tools to help me out. That was the last I saw. Darkness faded in and that was all I could remember. I woke up later, still delirious. My eyes opened to not a crowd, but two ponies. One was #20429, the other was a white unicorn. She was about my age from the looks of her body. She was thin, her hair was puffy and made of two colors: a light pink and purple. Her masks had no design at all, it was simply blank besides the three dead butterflies printed on the side to show her calling. Her eyes were... they weren’t even eyes. Usually we can see the color if we look closely and this filly was right up in my face. I didn’t see any color, it was pure blackness. It didn’t make any sense to me. I looked down at my leg. It was bandaged a bit, still being bandaged by this strange, black-eyed filly. The bandages were mostly scarlet with blood. An artery or two must’ve been severed. My coat was stained, but I didn’t mind. It made me look tougher. “Uhh...” I started, “so... hello there, miss...?” The filly gave no number. She just stared at my wound and kept working, so focused on her work as if it were her own. “Don’t bother,” #20429 said as he sat down next to my undamaged front hoof, “she ain’t said a word since I got her over here. Dunno if she even part of the team.” He looked at the black-eyed filly with a smirk. “Ya feeling better, Forty-Three?” It was the first time anyone had actually called me that short of my name. I liked it.“Y-yea... I think so.” He laughed. “Good, cause ya know they ain’t letting you get a day off for this. Ya need help for tomorrow? Repairing stuff can wait a day or two, they won’t notice.” The filly finished wrapping the wound, she grabbed scissors and cut the cloth, tying it tight against my skin. “Thanks, I think I can handle myself though.” The filly stood up and walked away. She didn’t have any marks on her body, no filth, no scars, no nothing. It was strange. “Best be off towards the halls. You been out for a bit. Don’t worry bout them animals, they’ve been fed already.” He got up and grabbed my good hoof to assist. “I told you before, I don’t need your help.” He let go of my hoof and just stood there waiting on me. I got my footing back and we just continued. He stayed next to me for the whole walk. It was nice. Finally a change in the wind. I wonder how long it’ll last. Author's Note I'll be getting an editor sometime to fix this chapter-along with future ones-up a bit. I just wanted to release the first edition. I think Conelo is a latin word for beginning or something. I have no idea. I was planning on taking this further and posting this first chapter where it would end at a darker scene but I think I'll hit that scene in 1 or 2 more chapters anyways.
LunchWe walked through a hallway, the same details in this as the rest of the hallways. My bandages hadn’t been very tight, or perhaps my blood found a weak point as the bandages clearly were starting to unravel. Blood trickled down my leg and onto the floor as we kept towards the nutritional halls. It wasn’t much, but it still bothered me. The cold, clammy liquid bothered me in a strange tense. I loved blood and everything about it. The smell, the sight, the taste, and the feel. It was one of my favorite things in life. The hallway narrowed into a set of grey metal doors. #20429 stopped me before we went through. “Ya best be hiding that, alright? They ain’t gonna like the workers lacking on account of a big injury like that.” He poked his head down and gave my bandaged wound another look. “I can handle it.” “If you say so. You better stop that limp ‘else ya might end up who knows where.” I readied myself, having no attention on that limp. I didn’t notice it until he told me so I thought it would be best to stay close by his side. #20429 smashed through the door. It wasn’t out of anger or to make a loud bang, these doors were just so old and rusty that they had to be given a large push. A gleam of light blinded me as the opening came into existence. Beheld in front of me sat the nutritional hall, a slim grey room with rust and asbestos conquering its ceiling, filled with tables that sat in perfect distance from one another, each sitting no more than four; no less than one. It held a small horizontal crevice in a wall where they would give us whatever food they felt would do us for the day. It never tasted good, but then again I never tasted anything that was “good.” I stayed close to his side as we moved towards the serving area. This small spot had only an extending metal plate for us to receive whatever food they had. We walked up to it, speaking nothing, only waiting for them to notice our presence and do their job. It was about fifteen seconds before one of the beings behind it noticed us. It slipped through two plastic rectangles with three courses on top. I didn’t look at it right away, I just kept with #20429. He started towards the last empty table. I looked around before we departed far only to notice the thunderous silence in the room. A few ponies per table, only one cleared of life. I usually sat alone, it didn’t make a difference. If we talked it would’ve been forced into cautious whispers, at least in this room. Finally we approached this lonely table. He sat first. He was quite different. Where as most would sit with our legs perched in front of our bodies like a dog, he sat with his legs down and off the chair. I had never seen anything like it. I stayed with my usual way. I looked down at my food. It was... not appetizing at all... what I’ve been told is a corn mush and the rest I have no intentions of knowing. Ignorance is bliss, at least that’s what our social creed is supposed to be. I noticed his face turn towards me, his magnificent grey face, just caught by the edge of my sight. His mouth opened, “It still hurt?” he whispered. I dared not reply in a mix of fear, a fear that they may take notice, but also a fear of change, and of nervousness. Nervous of what? I don’t know. The stale air brought his focus back to the meal. I dug my face into the corn mush. It didn’t have a taste. That didn’t matter, when you only get one meal a day you just enjoy the satisfaction of having your stomach filled. It stayed like this for a time, just eating the food as #20429 tried to make conversation with my silence. There was a loud laugh from down the room. I looked up. There at the end table of my row sat three fillies. They looked worried, one covering her mouth, talking unsure of what.. They kept on with their talk for a minute or two before the side doors to the nutritional hall opened. There at the doors stood two stallions. I couldn’t see their mask designs perfectly, but the marks stood out well. One, an albino earth pony with the loyalty mark, a cloud with a rainbow lightning strike, and the other all I could see was of a hat over his mask and the start mark. His hat was brown, it wasn’t old, nor ruined. Just a new age hat. It was something of farm-style. His fur was a light brown, and his hooves were scuffed noticeably from work. The two stallions just stood there before the filly with her mouth closed tried to hide her face-held hoof against the table. The albino one walked towards their table and scattered them away. He put his hoof on the shoulder of the laughing filly, keeping her from moving. “Alright!” shouted the brown stallion, “Get back to your quarters.” We all stood up, except for the targeted filly. We made our way towards the way the two came in, #20429 and I in the back of the group. I looked back, the filly just staring at us, fear in her eyes. And then the doors closed, she was out of my sight. The quarters were as they always were:damp, quiet, red, and frightful. I laid down in my bed, this time off-key with the others by just a second. No one noticed. I stared at the ceiling, waiting for slumber. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. But it never came. By the time the sirens woke the rest, I had already been ready for the day. I stood up and got out of my bed. Everything was normal, except for the laughing filly. She was gone. In her bed laid a new filly, one I had never seen before. Author's Note Sorry for it being short and rushed... I'll pace more next chapter, or at least try. Just starting to get into the actual ideas now.
CharredShe sat there, in a strangers bed, acting as if she belonged there, as if she were always there. This new filly, she seemed uniquely indifferent. It was like she was the envisioned filly they always wanted there, in that specific place, and we were just the ‘imperfected’ to them. Everyone got out of bed, a small delay this morning but nopony seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn’t care. I looked over towards #20429, his form challenging, yet unchanging. He seemed to glisten amongst these walking dead. We went to the showers, to the lockers, all through the same routine as the day before, nothing really standing out. Soon we found ourselves back in the main tent, preparing for the Carnival in weeks time. All seemed usual, I got my supplies and fed the animals, this time I didn’t get my arm bit or cut. I made my rounds just kept taking a small peek towards #20429 as he worked on his cannon. Everything seemed fine until I made it to the phoenix cage. “Hello, Abuela,” she was an old phoenix, hopefully going to ash by the time the Carnival was set up. Her feathers shagged off as she coughed something mean. I threw it a rat for her, she loved live rats. “Fire!” Somepony screamed, “Get some water!” he continued. I looked back towards the backstage area. It wasn’t really a backstage though, it was like a tent within the main tent, as the stage was just a circle. They had a fire about three times a month back there, usually they just set the outside of the tent aflame. All I could see was a billow of smoke rising, eventually circling back down and spreading through the tent. “Come on!” yelled #20429, grabbing an empty food bucket and ran off towards the flames. I did the same, taking Abuela’s bucket, heading towards the waterspout. It wasn’t far from the animal cages, we got to drink from it if we became thirsty. It was a rusted piece of junk that leaked more water than it gave out. #20429 started turning the pump on, collecting what he could in his bucket as the cracks leaked out their own little mini-storm. He took off towards the backstage tent as immediately as his bucket was filled. “Hurry,” he yelled, disappearing into the billows. I stuck my bucket under the spout, gathering up what it could hold. It filled slowly as there was a crack or two in it. I took off, with it only half-full, towards the tent. Ash heavy in the air, making it hard to breathe. This was bigger than the usual fire. The tent was somehow mostly intact, must’ve been magical cloth. I threw the water on, dousing a small portion of the fire. 20429 ran back, I ran with. The spout was shaking now, unused to such pressure expanding a minute in time. He stuck his bucket under a leak that had begun pouring out gallons, I did the same. “Get back!” yelled somepony near the tent, pushing fillies and colts out of danger. My bucket filled and I turned around, running towards it again. It seemed like nopony else was getting water for it other than me and #20429. We kept on towards the tent for a second time. And then I saw her... Just a young earth filly, no more innocent than an infant, burning up. Her mane had caught on fire, singeing her body and melting her skin. It just started rolling off in small waves, dripping onto the ground as she ran in pain and fear. She screamed in agony and nopony batted an eye nor showed remorse or care. She was but an imaginary demon and all I did was watch, capable of saving her life yet unable to do so. She turned my way before dropping to the ground, dead. Her mask... it didn’t melt... it stuck on there more stubborn than anything I’ve ever seen. I just froze, watching the stitches disintegrated, separating the two finally. Time seemed to have slowed down, fillies and colts ran in panic at subtle speed. Then her face became existent, pale yellow face with beautiful orange eyes. Her mask just laid there beside her as the fire engulfed and ruined the rest of her perfection. It wouldn’t darken, it wouldn’t turn to ash, it just laid there, vibrantly still. I continued staring for quite some time, watching the skin sizzle with the heat, crisping her body up. The others had put out the tent’s flame, yet I stayed here, sitting next to this surprisingly calm fire. Blackened bones and charred organs were left in wake, giving off a creepy delicious aroma. Bang. The big metal doors that lead to the nutritional halls slammed open, five ponies walking out. Three were wearing white medical coats, two wearing their starry masks, standing above us all. One stood out among them all, the Taskmaster. He was a light-gray pony with a partial mask, cutting off in an arch near his left cheek, designed with splatters of black, orange, and dark blue. He was our leader in a tone, our oppressor in our minds. He was the one who kept order, and who took away those who differed too much negatively. The three medical-dressed ponies went off, two picking up the charred filly’s remains and placing them on this blue mat, wrapping her in it. The other went into the tent for who knows. The Taskmaster and the other star-marked pony talked for a bit in little whispers, cancelling of our senses. “Alright, I’ll get right on it,” said the other pony as he ran off in the direction of the tent, treading lightfully. “Listen up!” the Taskmaster yelled, fillies and colts dropping everything where they stood. “You are to retreat into your quarters for the rest of the night. There will be no food served tonight. I expect you to clean up what you can, get your tools back into your lockers, and sleep. Nothing more, nothing less.” He turned around, trotting off to his office. Some of the ponies began picking up their tools, a few unicorns attempted to go in the tent, only for the medical and star pony to push them away. The medical one carried a few tools over at a time, making sure they stayed out of that area. It was strange, but they are always strange. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because we are different that we’re forced into this, but I know it’s not that. I had all my tools already set and placed for tomorrow. It was the first day we opened up our carnival, all I had to do was keep the beasts in check with the earth ponies, other than that I guess it was some time with #20429, and to that, I was looking forward. I kept my eyes on the tent, staring out of curiosity. The star pony walked back in, lifting up part of the tent that connected to the facility we lived in, it was just a wall there, or I think that’s all there was. Next thing I know the side of the tent rummaged a little bit, a small colt peeling his way out from the bottom, #20429. The medical ponies had taken away the charred corpse by now, the stench didn’t leave with them. It was time for us to go, the star pony had us line up in our regular columns before departing. I fell a little short, dropping to the back of the line. “What’s back there?” I whispered to my acquaintance, careful to keep my head stilled from his direction. “Just a door.” Author's Note To the asshat with his subs playing for 6 hours straight near my house: I am slitting your tires tonight. Have Fun! Rushed it a little at the end. Had to decide a few things and I decided I needed some backstory for one of the ideas to make total sense.
PracticeThe sirens went off like clockwork, just like the haunting days before. Everypony and went to the showers in the same linear fashion as before. We had new faces today, already trained supposedly, all to recount from the burn victims that died or were exiled due to last nights fire. Everything went blandly, exactly how they wanted it to be for years from the morning wake until we reached the lockers. Everything was quiet. Everything was still. It was the same, yet different in all other ways, a subtle change, the spark before the cannonblast. The Taskmaster bursted into the room, violently. Everypony stood at attention to him, waiting for his orders, or words depending on who listened. “Listen up!” he shouted, “We have but one day until the rotation is reached. Tomorrow the gates will open and you will all give your best to entertain the Acroties.” I had only heard of this term months before. It was a name for a class category, unlike the six categories for what mask you had, this one was for the wealth. We would start at the bottom, Acroties, or the peasants who lived in the slums of a city’s harshly discriminated districts. If we were good we could entertain in another district for the Minstres. I had never heard of any Kre observing, too busy with handling their system I suppose. “Tonight though, I expect you all to listen to Overseer. He will instruct you on tomorrows plan for the Carnival. You have all trained for tomorrows duties since infancy, there shall be no failure allowed on this. Overseer!” Taskmaster called him, the buffoon stumbling into the room like the soul of the crow that possesses him. “If I hear any complaints, there will be punishment. Now, get back to your duties!” and just like that he left, slammed the door on his way out. Overseer leaned against the wall, barely keeping his stance. “Alright,” he began, “you will all be given a specific assignment. I demand them to be done exactly as given, is that understood?” Everypony nodded in agreement. “Great. Now, magical teams are to report to the center of the stage immediately. Your assignment will be given once there. Get going!” They followed almost immediately, taking all but one unicorn from the room. “Acrobatics!” I assumed he meant the pegasus, there was only one on that team and all he did was keep the ropes tight. “Get to your usual practice areas, you’ll each get a separate assignment.” Like the unicorns, they went off. Finally, time for my team. “Handlers… and others…” I assumed he was directing that towards #20429 and me, seeing as how we didn’t exactly fit in with this team fully. “You will report to your usual duties, unless, you are a trainer. Trainers will be working with another instructor with a few creatures to prepare for tomorrow's performance. Get to it!” We went off, clearing the locker room of all but the Overseer, who I assumed went to drink himself off a bit more. Of all the ponies in this society, this unjust way of life, us show ponies deserved to get drunk the most, but stealing a sip, just a sweet sip of bliss from the star folk, was exile. Sometimes I wonder if they ever get creative with their punishments, or if its the same for every little thing. 20429 and I walked to our usual area, though he had fixed the canon already and was out of work, and resumed the daily routine. I could hear the instructors giving their orders while I fed the animals left behind. #20429 decided he would help, as we were lucky enough to be so useless in any other placement so we could watch the other perform and get a bit of entertainment. It was fast, about a quarter the time as it would for me alone with the whole to feed. “So,” #20429 started, feeding the boars with me. “Ya think it locked?” It shocked me a little how quick he shot into a conversation starter, every other day before this would have been risky. They had to be busy watching the pre-performance to even care what two useless ones were doing with the animals. I felt I could poison each and every one and nopony would stop me until it was too late. “Think what is locked?” I knew exactly what he was asking about. Thought I wanted deep within my sober soul to go and check on that door myself, to just see what was behind it, to see if it was even locked, to see if it was guarded, or maybe just to see that I saw some kind of illusion. I wanted to be wrong, which was odd, I always hoped for change, but this was different in some way, like I knew it was a change in things around here, but what kind of change? That door could lead me to the outside, perhaps to the reason of why things are the way they are, or it could just be a door leading to nothing special. “The door. They went into such measures to hide it behind a wall, force us away when it started burning. I doubt they gone and locked something hidden.” This wasn’t making sense to me, still, he had a point. “Dunno.” “Want to find out? C’mon, they’re all focused on their stunts, who’d notice if the small, unimportant ones sneak away for a second?” “You know exactly what they’d do if they found us poking around.” “Exactly? For all we know they could just be putting us in a different class!” “I said no, can we just drop it and forget about the door?” “Fine…” He finished pouring the slop into the boar cage. The menacing creatures got specks all over from their eating style. It disgusted me, but then I remembered how close we were to these animals, I remembered how much worse we were than them. “You want to go watch the pegasi practice on the ropes?” I asked, wanting to get away from this area for the first time in a long while. “I… Well… Could we watch from the side?” “What’s wrong with watching from the towers? Theres nopony on the western one.” “I just don’t like heights…” “But you’re a pegasus…” “And you’re a unicorn. I don’t see you using magic.” “That’s different.” “How?” “I’m just a dud, I’m not afraid of magic.” “But you are afraid of a door.” I gave him a mean look. He was cute, but annoying, I still liked him. “Alright, the stands it is.” We walked over to the benches closest to the stage, careful not to scuff anything. We sat with our faces towards the burnt tent, they hadn’t even worked on making it less obvious of its battle scars. I couldn’t help myself but stare through the others work at it. It was something so silly to be fascinated by, like admiring the mane of another, it had little value and no sense, but some still did it without reason. I had to force my view back on the stage folk. Down on the ground, handlers were sending their animals into somewhat generic tricks. I wasn’t impressed by their simple flips and jumps, even if a ring of fire was added in. Up in the air, the pegasi did their aerial tricks. Some dived into water, others did obstacles with artificial clouds, and some fought their petty battles against another with their bare hooves, tearing at the others wings until their opponent fell to the ground, ruined. A few unicorns were spread across the stage, some in the towers creating magical explosions to awe the crowd, others on the ground charming the beasts to handle better than those trained to tame them. Half of them were somewhere else, they were so mysterious. It felt odd for me to be the only unicorn to not know what they did elsewhere. Like, I should know, its my right to know, but I don’t now, and I never will. It was all something so repetitive. All the acts, routines, everything just so uncreative. I couldn’t understand how this was supposed to stop violence. Maybe their lives were repetitive themselves, so this would be acceptable for them, or maybe their lives were so terrible that this was amazing, or maybe my life was interesting, much more than I thought before. I looked back at #20429, he was slumped backwards next to me, already looking at me when I had turned. He was doing something underneath that mask of his, something that wasn’t allowed. I could see the strings tugging lashes into his skin. The masks weren’t made for us to physically commit it, but here he was, despite the pain and blood that would begin to drip down if he continued long enough, here he was, smiling. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t even try to smile back, he wouldn’t be able to see my smile, just like I with his. We continued to watch the performance for some time, though it probably wasn’t the best idea, seeing as how this would be everything we saw the next day. I guess we didn’t take that into consideration. I didn’t know what we could’ve done instead, perhaps get away from the crowds and enforcers, but we couldn’t leave, nopony could. It was either we stayed and watched the show, or we went off together, and to me it was clear which I would be doing. Author's Note This is not turning into a romance.
SealedWhat followed after the events of the rehearsal were down to a minimum. We got a larger lunch, barely, but still larger. Costumes were delivered supposedly for the performers, we were only allowed to see our individual clothes, so I saw nothing new. Other than that we went off to bed. The only thing out of ordinary from that days rest were the scars on #20429’s jawline. I wish he hadn’t been smiling, but he couldn’t help it. I don’t think the Overseer knew, as this emotion, what I believe to be happiness, hadn’t been shown to him before. It was a law never broken because only those who could break it knew how to hide it. It was like being the only living being amongst an army of dead. When we awoke the next day, the day of our first ever performance for the Carnival, they didn’t wake us with the usual siren that destroyed much of our eardrum, they awoke us to something they had never done before, silence. It was and always shall be the most powerful noise. The nights were always quiet, yes, but there was always something to be heard, sometimes this noise let us know that we were safe, that as long as that noise went uninterrupted, we would wake up to another normal day, but the noise stopped, it has never stopped before, it died within the coming of a storm. We were all so used to this indescribable, little noise that once the silence started, we awoke to muffled screams. All together, one by one, and off into a routine that had finally changed after many long years. We got in the showers and stayed as stone for the entirety, only to get out and into our lockers as usual. I couldn’t stop glaring back at #20429’s scars. The watchers didn’t seem to notice, but they didn’t when I was maimed last week, so why would they with his jawline cuts? Taskmaster was waiting for us when we finished in the lockerroom. He seemed a little more pleasant today. He was still a violent and powerful pony, but today was a test for not just us, but for him. Today he would realize if he failed at his job or not. I hated the stallion, but even I wanted him to succeed at this. He gave a few words, most to intimidate us to do well, and then forced us on our way to prepare. I didn’t have a job today, neither did #20429, as we were just backstage maintenance and slop dumpers. We could watch the show, but it wasn’t entertaining for us. We were different, that was clear to us since the start. We went straight for our usual area, a place where, even on days such as this with so many ponies, we would never be disturbed. The animals were a bit more rowdy today in their cages, but nothing too harsh. We talked for a bit, but never anything too… happy… I was afraid to make him smile. I was afraid to feel how he felt. I always dreamed of change, but now that we emotionally have change, I fear it more than anything. I like this pony, I do, but in our world we cannot be how we want, so it is better not to be at all. He tried to get closer to me, not physically, but he wanted to know more about me. There wasn’t much to tell. My mind is blank majority of the time, even though I wish to pretend it’s some sort of mess, even though I lie to myself and others, the truth is always there. You can live in a fantasy world your entire life, believe that it is perfect in every way possible and hate anypony who says differently, but reality is a hard lie that we all see differently. I kept pondering away from our conversation whenever he tried to know a bit too much. I was reserved, we were supposed to be reserved, we weren’t supposed to be conscious beings, we were supposed to be soulless bodies that worked as machines for public entertainment, but we weren’t, at least we didn’t want to be. We wanted to be our own kind, not slaves, I wish there was a word for it, there probably was a word for it, but I don’t know it, nopony does anymore. Our conversation spanned for a few hours, making us miss most of the show. We didn’t care. One of the overseers came by and we silenced ourselves. He simply told us we would need to sweep the hay that had spread out backstage. There was no argument given, nor allowed, so we went off with our brooms towards the area we were directed towards. We made it to the obvious spot and started sweeping. We were near the part of the tent that had almost burnt down. There had been no repairs done, not even an attempt to make it look prettier. Since the fire, the tent had not been touched. I remembered the door that it tried to hide, none of the details about the door, because a door isn’t special, and yet it is the most amazing thing in the world. The door could be just a silly little place in the wall that can’t be opened, or it could be a way to escape or a portal to the past, maybe even another universe but I would never know unless I opened it. If I had a chance, I’d take it. I kept thinking about the door as we swept the floor. They started bringing out the medium-sized animals, the elephants, the adult phoenixes, and a few other creatures. The crowds weren’t totally pleased, they weren’t chanting or yelling in delight or amazement, but it was more like they were studying us. We were separate species in a way, knowing little to nothing about the other, even if it was just a cultural difference, we were far from the same beings. One of the elephants reared a little too much. He toppled over onto his handler, presumably squashing him to death. A few tried to fix what had happened, though it was too late, and through the commotion I took my chances. I bolted towards the door, thinking nopony had saw me. The ashes had settled in the tent, but they were still light enough to where I would leave imprints where I stepped if I wasn’t too light. I carefully walked over to the door, making sure I stayed close to the sides of the tent, where the least amount of ash was, and when I made it to this mysterious door, I just stood there for a moment. I was afraid. But more than anything, I was something else, brave. Author's Note I didn't want to end it here, but it was the best possible cliffhanger. TIME TO WRITE THE CHAPTER I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE!
ComplacencyThe door was heavy, opening it was not easy for a filly like me. I could feel the tense strain on my muscles. Those slop buckets were nothing compared to this door. Behind the door was the answer to my question, and the answer was a room, but not just any room, it was a room unlike any I had been in before, which is to say, very few. This room wasn’t made of metal, but of wood like the acrobat towers. Never before had it been used for a structure like this. There was furniture, real furniture, the kind for you to put stuff on instead of just the kind to sit on. It was like a bench on top of another bench on top of another bench, with a wall on the back of those benches. It had things inside of it, little boxes without a few sides, too small for anything of real important to be placed inside. There were windows, yellow and black windows, covered in what I believe to be tar and ash. Then there was a chair, but not an ordinary chair, this one was fancy, like for somepony of value and power. It looked comfy, very comfy, and so, realizing my fate for being just in this room, I gave into the temptation. I walked to the other side of the chair, wanting to sit down on it, only to jolt back at the sight of a sleeping pony. He was like the nurse, in that he had a partial mask. I could see the entire mouth on this one, with the star symbol placed on his forehead instead of on the traditional position of on the left cheekbone. I didn’t want to wake him, not just because he would most likely send me into exile, but because he looked peaceful. I could see scars on his face, much like the ones of #20429 from smiling. This pony had piercing holes along the edges of his visible face, they looked like that of the filly who burned to death in the fire not long ago. It had to be from the wire that kept the mask sewn to our face. I figured this one must have attempted to force his mask off, only to get so far. I looked down more, seeing as how he was shackled against the chair. I was shocked. I never thought that the star ponies would ever do this to their own, even those who fail are spared from death and exile only to be given another job, but yet this one is imprisoned here, seemingly. I wanted to leave so badly, but curiosity is a passive desire. I tried my best to exit the room, pushing myself towards that metal door, but the more strength I used, the more it drained, and I was forced back near the chair. There wasn’t anything of interest in the room that I could delve into safely. I had never seen the world outside of our tent before, not even the train we would eventually transport on had windows for the cargo. I couldn’t reach the window on my own, so I tried to push one of the layered benches over to the window. It didn’t take much effort, though some of the box things fell out as I moved it. I used a few to gain a little more height so I could get to the top of the layered bench. It was very unstable with me climbing up it. It wobbled when I got on top, but I gained balance over it. The window was heavily stained, obscuring my view of the outside, but not enough to see what was near. It was raining ash, large, the darkest of black, ash particles. They seemed to be hot, though not in any clear form of heat. The sun shined behind gray clouds, just like the sky. There were ruins of trees and buildings all around us. The trees were burnt to the stump. The buildings around varied from rubble to barely standing cement towers. What was structurally left intact of our society had been stained black on the outside, made of some kind of hard metal. The train had its own station, I couldn’t see exactly where, but its tracks darted out from a section restrained from my authorization. It all looked horrible, it was lifeless, how did we even survive, more importantly, how did we live? I lost my balance and leaned just a little too far back on the layered shelf, causing it to fall down at the base of the chair. I landed at the side of the bench. The small boxes had spread out all over. I didn’t respond to the pain of the fall, though I felt it very well. His eyes had opened when I looked back up. He didn’t struggle in his chains, nor looked shocked or confused or even angry, he looked pleased to see me. Neither said a word, though he should have, and I could not. He didn’t stare in some creepy way, but he kept looking at me. He wasn’t mad about the mess or that I had intruded, but he seemed saddened when I tried to leave again for a second time. I didn’t get very far, I know exactly how it is to feel lonely, even if I am always surrounded by other ponies. I don’t think he had anything, or anypony, I could change that. I turned back towards him and looked at the chains that kept him so still. He could’ve been a murderer or a savior, but I didn’t know, even if he told me I shouldn’t trust his word. Still, I persisted to look for a way to release him, if it were possible, just in case something changed. There were no locks, no creases, it was like he had been built in with the chair. “He-hello?” I was still unsure if he could speak. He gave no reply. “Why are you here?” I don’t know why I even asked. I gave him a few more questions, each went unanswered, and time came for me to return. The carnival wasn’t going to last all day. He kept on with his happy face, though saddened by my inevitable leave. Before I could get out he tried to get my attention one last time. He didn’t say anything, he mumbled though, or made some kind of noise and nodded towards a pile of those little box things. I picked one up for him and it fell apart in a way. It wasn’t all intact, slivers of it were unattached, but they had some kind of symbols on each surface. I turned each side back to how it was supposed to be and laid it on his lap. He didn’t like that. He leaned his head down and opened it with his face and just looked at it. I didn’t understand it at all, but I was out of time for questions. When I got back out to #20429, he had finished sweeping the hay. He asked where I had been and I told him all that had happened. #20429 was impressed with me, as I had fearful of it entirely the day before. It was just another surprise for this day to hold. He was curious, just like me, and perhaps tomorrow I would take him with me, if possible, to the discovery. There was still an hour or two left of the stage performances. They had moved onto the magic part of the show, the part I hated seeing the most. #20429 and I went back to the cage area again to be alone, friends in a world of enemies. It seemed we could talk forever, but mostly what we discussed now was about the room. I couldn’t describe it or the pony inside enough to satisfy him. He wasn’t smiling, but he was intrigued. I wanted to get off the subject, leave more mysteries to solve together, rather than assumptions, but he kept going towards his goal. It was nearing the end of the carnival, star ponies would be coming across this area soon, and I needed to get him to shut up. Though our masks covered majority of our faces, I could still do what I needed to do. I leaned over and looked into what was visible of his eyes, and moved closer. I gave him a kiss, one he took as passionate, but it wasn’t, not to me. He tasted of the cafeteria food, very unpleasant, but it made him shut up quickly. It was awkward afterwards, the bad kind of silence when nothing can be said. It was the one time I wanted a star pony to come across and tell us to get going. We went back to our beds and he kept looking back towards me for most of the night. I shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t regret it at all. Author's Note This will probably be the last update for a while. It won't be on purpose, but I won't be writing tomorrow, and I will probably forget to write more. I apologize for the rushed ending.
Hieghtened SecurityThe next day, things were a lot more tense. There wasn’t going to be another carnival for a few days. The Taskmaster wasn’t pleased with the performances. We weren’t awoken by the buzzer, nor by the yelling of an Overseer, but instead by the crack of a whip. He came into the room, ready to lash a few for their failure to entertain. “Everypony up!” he screamed, cracking his whip once more. “Last night’s performance was complete and utterly made of shite!” Taskmaster pointed towards the smallest unicorn filly from my row. “You, get up here!” She walked to him, shaking, terrified of the imminent actions. “This is what will happen if you smirk off on your duties!” He struck down on her, smiting her in the face with his whip. Her mask shattered in many places, stabbing her with shrapnel. Blood spurted from her head. She shrieked in pain, only provoking him more than before. One lash, two lash, three lash, four, all until she was on the ground, blinded and useless. It was a gory sight, but the worst part was the look on the Taskmaster. I couldn’t see past his mask to see his facial expression, but there was something telling me he enjoyed it. It wasn’t as much joy as anything else, it was less, it was a chill expression, a calm one, a terrible one for this situation. He felt no guilt, never did, how far could he hurt us before he feels again for his fellow kind? She laid there, almost lifeless, after many lashes, it was impressive how much she had taken, but not something I wished to compete with. Blood trickled down her body, forming a pool around her. She was as good as dead. He yelled at us to get to work, forcing us to leave our sister unattended, not like all of us would if an option were given anyways. I wondered what I had missed that she had done, or failed to do, that caused such an outburst. Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to visit the door today, but what comes from a good idea that doesn’t end out to be bad? I fought myself over this decision for the entire shower. Some of us were more still than usual. More statue than ever, if that was possible, and apparently it was. She never entered the locker room. None of us had any idea of her condition. I worried for that stranger, who I had known for years, but never really known. The ability to converse made into a curse. Such a wonderful ability, priced so high, and punished so heavy. I mostly kept towards my usual grounds for the rest of the day. #20429 kept trying to be flirty with me, due to that regretful kiss I gave him the night before. He was so touchy, even though he knew if they saw us over-communicating with each other that horrible things would happen, he kept trying. I tried to hint him to bug off, but he wouldn’t. What have I done? The entertainers worked very hard today, practicing to right whatever wrongs they had done yesterday. Nopony wanted to end up like that filly, as punishments were surely to get worse. How bad were the punishments for the older performers? They must be good after so many years, but to be flawless in this damaged society seems impossible. As I looked back towards the door, nothing different appeared since yesterday. It was the same old door, not even a star pony was guarding the tent that housed it. #20429 mentioned that he wanted to go inside of it, to meet the pony inside the odd room. I kept telling him no, kept telling him that I wouldn’t go with him, at least not today, not after what happened to the filly. Still he kept on, no matter how many times I rejected to go with him today, whether it be to the room, or somewhere else, he persisted. It was annoying, not the kind of annoying to be cute or to get your attention, just the kind that eventually made you give in, the kind that made you like them a little less just for doing it. In truth, I wanted to as much as him, probably more, but he was scared to go alone, I was scared to be caught, and those two reasons are very different, just like those who possess the reasoning behind it. It was just to be impressive for him, he didn’t care about the punishment, as long as he got to live a little more there was no punishment enough to stop him. I was jealous of this, even if it was stupidity. We never went into the room. The star ponies came and got us, sent us to lunch, and again, we kept whispering, and when we got the feeling that they were listening, we stopped whispering and talked with our food. He stopped talking about the door, and more about me and him, us. It was a subject I wasn’t the most comfortable with, since he expected so much, he expected we were something, but we weren’t. It was only a kiss. I wanted nothing from him, at least nothing like he did, it wasn’t allowed, it wouldn’t be possible. The star ponies entered the room every now and then, even though they were already watching us. Maybe it was just a ruse and that there were no cameras on us or maybe they had to be sure of something that the camera couldn’t focus on. One of them came in with a notepad, writing something down, like he was observing us for something more. Most of us kept our heads down, like we were supposed to, but it never felt right. When they directed us towards our beds, there were changes to the room. Subtle ones, the floor had been washed, the first time it ever had been during our stay. It was frightening, they didn’t like change, what could be provoking it? The Taskmaster came into the room, he didn’t say nothing, just walked in for a second and left. This would go on for the next few weeks, high security, total fear, lashes everyday, and most importantly, curiosity. Author's Note I'm not to proud on how I ended this chapter, but I wanted to get it out of the way for the next.
CausticAges went by before security went back to normal. #20429 and I didn’t return to the door during those weeks. We didn’t speak much during that time either. Things were kind of dead all around the carnival. I could always see many in the crowd becoming bored by the same routines being replayed over and over for years. There was a lack of imagination, and with it, enthusiasm. Their entertainment was our responsibility. It was odd. We couldn’t change anything in the carnival, everything was handled by these seemingly emotionless star ponies. How could dull minds make creative changes? That’s the thing about growing up, once you’re there, you kill the child you used to be. I don’t remember being a child. Sure, one could say I still am a child at my age, but being a child isn’t about age, it’s about a whole lot more than that. The Taskmaster still thought it was a brilliant idea to whip us after the carnival to “improve” ourselves. Hell, what did I know? Maybe it was a great idea, probably a safer idea, but it wasn’t pleasant at all, it was just horrible. He threatened to do worse if things would not improve during the next carnival. I hoped the others knew what they were doing. It was the morning of what would be our last carnival in Baltimare before our preparations towards Canterlot. It was, at an angle, an exciting move. We didn’t hear much about the other cities, as none of the Baltimare ponies, who were in eavesdrop distance, had ever been to or never talked of the city, not even their own city was a topic. We, and by that I mean I, was so curious of the outside. It seemed dull, but even here, we clowns saw the world grey. I got up, or rather I woke before the others. I sat there, staring at the ceiling for quite some time, for reasons unbeknownst to me. I was glad we were leaving soon, but this was my home, no matter how much I hated it. It seemed like an eternity would go by before the siren went off and the others woke. We went back into our usual routine, showering, putting on our disguises, and addressing our tools. There was, as usual, little work for me to do today. Since the security had been going down, I had planned to visit the door possibly one last time. I still wondered if the mysterious star pony was there, chained as before. Only time would tell, but I didn’t exactly have a whole lot of time left. Most, if not all, of my answers about the chained pony, about the odd room, about the world outside, they would go unanswered. I would have to deal with it, as curious as I was, but it couldn’t hurt to take but a peek into the restriction. As soon as we were shut out of the locker room, I darted off towards my area in hopes to look eager at work for the Taskmaster and his overseers. They paid no attention to my little area, giving me all the time in the world to spend with #20429 and his constant thoughts about that kiss. I could tell he liked me, he didn’t try to hide it, he thought I wanted him, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. He knew I was planning to head back to the room, just by the way I kept turning my head towards it, always looking around to see if it was clear enough to take off towards it. I needed a distraction though, it was easier during the carnival when they did more than just watch us. #20429 knew this too. I waited about two hours for a chance, but sometimes in life you have to make your own and take them, even if they’re slim. The manticore had been acting up today, she was in heat, she was riled up with the need for another. It was perfect. I went over to its cage and unlatched the first of three locks. I would’ve gladly let #20429 help me on this, but we needed at least one handler to stay behind to keep the illusion alive. After the second lock, it started banging on the door, the third latch was bending, breaking under her superb strength. It shattered its way through, leveling the sides of the cart. She gave her mighty roar before storming away. I heard the terrified scream of another pony of in the distance. Some yelled for handlers to get her tied, others ran. In the heat of it all, I sprinted towards the door. I didn’t even look to see if an overseer was watching me, it just seemed like they wouldn’t be. The door seemed lighter today. I couldn’t explain why. Maybe I was stronger, or maybe the world was simply weaker. I opened the room to a disturbing scent. It was cold, yet burning at the same time. The window was opened for some reason. I didn’t know how, he was still chained there, there was no way he did it. Ashes from the sky fell into the room, slowly filling up the floor. His mask was yellowing, turning frail. His skin had patches where there was no skin at all, just patches of flesh. It wasn’t natural. I could feel my lungs burning. I couldn’t stay here long, but I wanted answers to questions I didn’t have. As I walked over to his body, surely screaming on the inside, he just sat there and gave me the same look as before. I could see the pain in his eyes, no tears necessary. His mask began to crack before I could even give the mute my first question. I knew damn well that he couldn’t answer them at this point. He was dying, nothing stopping that. As his mask fell apart, I noticed something similar to something before. The wire that held it to his face began to melt, spilling out of the holes in his face. It fell to the floor, piece by piece. It was the first time I had seen anypony’s face before, but in truth I didn’t see it. It was all gone now, just like his mask, falling on the floor. I looked at the chains, they were unaffected by this caustic air. There was nothing I could do to free him, but I still yanked on the chains. I tried to pull him out, but with each pull he lost more of his limbs. There was no escape for him. I looked down once more at the chains, only to see my skin beginning to bubble. There was no time left. I gave him a tear as I left, but no more than one. I had to stay strong, even if this was no display of strength. It was silent when I entered the main tent again. I could see them in the center circle with the manticore lying there, motionless, surrounded by handlers and overseers. I tried to hurry back and blend in but a hoof caught my mane and pulled me off towards Taskmaster. He greeted the overseer who grabbed me with a laugh, punched me in the face, and told him to take me to his quarters. I was scared. I tried to fight the overseer but everytime I struggled, he screamed at me and hit me again. He popped a few of those blisters that I had recently developed. I could feel blood and pus roll down my body. I stopped struggling about halfway to the Taskmaster’s quarters. I had no idea what was going to happen, I didn’t want to. The overseer threw me into the room, I slammed into a desk in a pitch black area, he closed the door and turned on the lights, just standing there, waiting for his boss to arrive. He just kept standing there, probably smirking behind his mask. He knew very well what was going to happen to me. Death, exile, whipping, I was scared, but I was ready. I just wished I could’ve said goodbye to #20429. The train would be leaving soon, and I probably wasn’t going to board it with him. The Taskmaster opened the room, laughing with another of his colleagues. The overseer left on his command, wishing me good luck, as if it were luck that I needed to be good to me. “So,” he began, getting out a glass of something strong, “you’d think we wouldn’t have known, did you?” “N-no, sir.” “Then explain to me why you defaulted on your duties and ventured beyond your understandings!” he took a swig of his drink. “I don’t know!” “Then I shall remind you! Come here!” Taskmaster came at me, out of instinct I swatted at him. He came back with his hoof, smacking me to the ground. I could taste blood. He grabbed my throat and picked me off the floor. I couldn’t breathe as he grasped tighter and tighter. The world started the turn black and motionless. Then he threw me against his desk, only to pull me on top of it. The Taskmaster started to kiss me, I struggled to keep my head away from him, but he forced himself against me. I was pinned, but still I kicked him, though my front hooves were trapped under his might. He hit me again to keep me from fighting back but I kicked upright into his face. He fell backwards and I pushed myself off the desk. He came around and grabbed my hind hooves as I tried to crawl towards the door. I could feel him near my backside. I started screaming, crying my eyes out. I wasn’t ready for this. When it was all over, while I was there, stuck in a pool of my own blood and tears, while he was drinking in his seat, the overseer came back. He said something about the train coming here early. That was all I wanted to hear at that point. Apparently it came early, but still it was late for me. I was sent, or dragged to be exact, towards the train. I could barely move. The pain was immense on my body, but deathly in my mind. The others were already lined when we reached the hallway to the train. I kept close to #20429 when the overseer left. I didn’t say a word, he knew I was hurting, but I didn’t give him anything but silence. And so, I boarded the train as a new mare. Author's Note So... I wrote this Sorry for the rape :c
TraverseI slept for hours, or well, I pretended to. In reality, I wouldn’t sleep at all tonight. #20429 tried to wake me and talk to me. I ignored him. It’s not like we could talk about anything other than where we’re going. The train was very dark, almost pitch black. The only light that came through was of the window, which couldn’t give us much as we had been in a tunnel since we left the city. There was no internal lighting. All the seats were cold, and metallic. Every muscle in my body ached from the uncomfortableness of the train, but more so from the events before the boarding. The others chatted amongst themselves, only questioning where they were going. We all knew damn well where we were going. It was our turn for the Capital, but nothing looked like what we thought it would be. The overseers and Taskmaster always spoke of it as a place for high remorse, as if it were some sort of heavenly place away from all the darkness. After a while, all noise was overcome by the train as it began squealing. We had slowed down quite a bit, before we all jolted forward to the sudden stop. I slammed into the seat in front of me, my nose smashed into it. It started to bleed, but I could only feel it. My blood dripped down my body, still warm. The train started again, going very slowly. There was a slight increase in light now. The windows revealed more. I could see now more of the world outside. We had exited the tunnel and the train was stopping at a very peculiar village. It wasn’t walled off like Baltimare. The place was made of rusted metal, and some sort of orange plant, wrapping around everything. There was a small platform for the train to stop at. Ponies sat there, waiting, mostly workers wearing assorted masks, the most common being the butterfly mask, all surrounded by soldiers. The soldiers were still outnumbered, but they had fear on their side. Most of the soldiers are and will always be, unarmed, but if its a match with our physical skill, what keeps the revolts from happening? They all wore a different kind of mask though. They still had clear marking and similar style, but the snout came out more on their masks with an interesting tube attached. They all wore thick, rubbery clothing too. It was uneven, protective, but still being eaten away by the pollution. They started boarding the train into a separate cart. We were imprisoned in our own, as they were in theirs, forbidden from conversing with one another. The train pulled up a little bit, our cart passing the platform, and stopping several carts later. The cart at the platform opened, letting out a new batch of ponies. This batch was similar to the ones who got on board. They looked around with a nostalgic perspective. It was the last thing I noticed as the train took off again, before the soldiers forced them into the buildings. 20429 had noticed my bleeding nose. I tilted my head up trying to stop it. He didn’t know what to do but watch. It stopped after about ten minutes. I was covered in it by the time it had stopped. It felt weird whenever I moved a joint, as the blood had dried and crinkled at the joint movement. There wasn’t any older pony in our cart for myself to receive help for my bloody nose, but at least it was just a bloody nose. It didn’t feel broken at all. We traveled for another few miles outside of the tunnel. Things were going fine. We stopped at a few more little villages and traded groups. The train seemed to be fueled by some sort of fire, as smoke billowed out, and lots of it too, thick, black smoke that never rose too high. You could see it for miles and it wouldn’t be spread out much at all. It was just one, continuous, low cloud, covering our tracks. I watched them for miles as a similar darkness began to find its way through the entire sky. #20429 tried to get closer to me. At first, I simply refused because his touch refiled with the dried blood flakes, but I grew tired, and he was restless to find my side. I knew how he felt towards me, but I didn’t understand it. We were still young, I was almost a mare, but colts and stallions were not a focus in my life. I wished I could feel the same way towards him as he did me. I allowed him to get closer, allowed him to lie with me. I embraced his warmth as we laid on the uncomfortable seat. It was still fun. He fell asleep on me, but I could not still. I watched the smoke for miles until it blended with the sky. The train was filled with the sound of snoring ponies until the engine busted up. It clanked hard and loud, shaking the train. It slowed down before stopping. Many on board woke up and looked out. We couldn’t see much, but the operators got to work fast. Hours past before the train started again. It was going really slow this time, but they weren’t going to keep us stranded out here. I could see the sun coming back up by the time we started up. We were going through mountains when in the distance, a city. It was planted on the remains of a mountain, more of a hill now, the hollowed out parts were still visible from here. The city itself was like an egg, concealed by its sphere wall. The train squealed again, not by choice. From the window we could see up ahead, there was a few bodies lying on the ground, charred. They were accompanied by three ponies. They stared into each train cart as it passed by. The burned bodies looked like farmers. One of them was strung up on a pole. What was left of his body had been melting onto the ground by now. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. I guessed it as anti-revolt propaganda. We sped back to our former speed as soon as every cart had passed the scene. #20429 had slept through it the entire time, and I would’ve kept it that way. We came close to the city now. I could see all the graffiti painted on its walls as we came by. The wall had large panels missing, or eaten away. There was a large amount of workers trying to repair it. As we entered the tunnel, you could see the reasons why it was described so highly by the Taskmaster. The place was huge, shiny, classy, and very advanced. It had hallways made of crystal glass. If I looked up, it was like it was a city based on its wrong side. The masked ponies had interesting designs on their masks. Everything was amazing. It was like the city itself was happy. Sometimes we could see ponies wearing clothes for the fun of it. It was very interesting. Though, all the ponies I saw were star ponies. I had never envied them so much until now. And then we passed into another tunnel. This is when the disappointment hit. We saw where we would be placed. I figured it was at the bottom center of the city. It was a large area, another sphere area. There was large, clear leaks that dripped down liquids that looked horrendous. When we reached the station and got off, we met with a large group of star ponies. We waited for them to speak first, as usual, but they wouldn’t. The train moved forward a few carts before letting out some more ponies. It did this again, leaving us with a very large group, about five times the size of our original. The center star pony came forward once we were all there. “Listen!” she started, “I am Preceptor, you shall only see me at rare times. I am the deity here. The Taskmasters here report everything to me, just as the overseers to them. You will do as you are told. No more, no less. You will be shown to your rooms in a short time. I will leave you with your respected Taskmasters. This will be just as you were at your last city. I abide you farewell for now.” The Preceptor left, a few overseers following. There were four Taskmasters left in front of us. One of them was but a young mare, no more older than five plus our own age. She looked nervous, but friendly. The other three were older, probably in their middle adulthood. One of them spoke up amongst the rest. “Children! You shall refer to myself as Taskmaster Octavian. I will be the director of the animal department. This,” he pointed to the one with a large scar on his front leg, “is Taskmaster Un, he is the one in charge of punishment.” He nudged towards the other older pony. “Taskmaster Haven, in charge of the creative changes. And finally, my beautiful daughter, Taskmaster Fera, she is our magic instructing protegee.” They turned and went down a hallway, not even saying a word, but we followed anyways. They stopped at a crossway. Octavian ordered for the tamers to follow him down one hallway, Fera had the unicorns go down her hallway, and the few left, #20429, some other duds, and I, followed Un and Haven down the left hallway. I had hoped he would show us the stage or at least our animals, but we just kept walking, he didn’t even stop at a janitors closet and tell us to clean. We walked for a long time, never crossing an intersection. After long, we reached a dark, damp room. He turned on a light and showed us to strange devices. Many of them were covered by cloth. He didn’t say a word, just showed us to a box shaped device. A door opened in the room as the Preceptor entered the room with his overseers. It was all confusing to me. “Greetings again, children,” he said. We stayed silent, knowing what speech would get us. “Pick one, I’m just the jester here,” Un said. Preceptor chuckled. “I hear one of you had slipped away from a real punishment before leaving for Canterlot.” Did he mean me? “You’ll be lucky to find that I find thrill in the guessing game.” He started walking back and forth in front of our assembled line. A minute later, he stopped at #20429. “A fine and healthy subject. Come, Jester, for the joke needs its punchline.” Un put his hooves on the cloth of his box device. “Come here, little one, for its time I show you real magic.” I nodded at him not to, but it would do no good either way. #20429 walked towards Un. He tore the cloth off the box. It was made of glass, reinforced by steel. “I’m going to simply make you disappear!” Un opened the box. “Are you ready? Get in, my magnificient assistant!” “Ah, finally, I’ve waited to see this one at work,” said Preceptor. 20429 got in the device. All seemed well for him. There appeared to be a fan of some sort at both the top and bottom of the device, as his mane was flowing every which way. It seemed too innocent, and it was. Next thing I hear is him yelling “ow!” He had been cut somehow, and then again, and again. They were small cuts, not enough to bleed, but noticeable. Then I saw what was happening. Small glass flakes were being dumped through the top fan into the box. Un slammed the door some more, and #20429 voice was too muffled to be heard now. Bigger flakes began to dump into the box. The cut became larger. He was bleeding now, cut everywhere on his body, shredding up so quickly. Glass kept dumping into the vortex. He was bleeding everywhere. His body was deteriorating slowly. All the blood and waste fell into the bottom fan, disappearing. Un just kept dumping more glass into the box, so much that he was screaming, trying to protect himself. I couldn’t handle it. I was screaming too, I tried to hit the box and get him out, but Un kicked me when I got close. I could see his bones now as he melted away. He was sparkling as he died. He placed his hoof’s bone on the glass. His stomach had been cut up so much that his inner organs were becoming visible. His eyes were gone, cut open, and what was left was too gruesome to look at. I went back at the box, trying to break him out again, it was too late but I didn’t care. Un kicked me again, and two overseers came and grabbed me. I tried to fight back, but they were too strong. They dragged me away, back down the hallway we came from. I screamed and fought the entire way. I could hear their laughter over my screams. Those bastards were sick and twisted. I would’ve done anything to hold my lover again, but it was too late. Author's Note Had to make it Mature because of that last scene. I kinda wanna start a sequel to this, but it ain't too popular anyways. I guess that's better, cause I would've made it shorter, which it'll have the same ending either way, just rushed more in the between chapters.
ThreadThey dragged me for eons. When they stopped, we had arrived at another office door. It was styled after a laboratory, shiny, clean, and unique. They opened the door and shoved me inside. There sat Taskmaster Fera, writing something down in her large document book, just beside all her curious looking alembic tools and other odd items. She had one particular tool in her office next to a mask, attached to a skull. I looked closer to see that the threading in the mask was loose. The tool looked like an odd pair of tweezers, but smaller and made of some sort of black onyx. “Oh,” Fera said, “I didn’t see you with the other unicorns, how are you, sweetie?” I was shocked at the sincere kindness in her voice. “I’m… I’m good?” “Good to hear it! Were you a late comer from from the badlands plantation? I’ve tried to persuade them into building an actual train station there instead of those silly caravans. What is your name, err… number, dear?” There was no hesitation in stating it, “#20443, ma’am.” “Well, it is nice to meet you. I’d give you the normal introduction, as the other unicorns under my teachings, but I see a more personal greeting is in order here. I am Taskmaster Fera. I’ll be in charge of showing you, and the other unicorns, how to achieve success in the future of your magic skills. The others are in training right now, but I’ll be needing to show you some stuff before I send you there.” Fera grabbed something from her desk drawer. It was a small crystal gem. “With these gems, you can empower your magic abilities inside them and use them for later reserve, or as tools for when you are not around. Watch!” She blasted the gem with her magic, illuminating it with a purple aura. I had no idea what she would say when she saw that I wasn’t possessing any magical abilities. I hoped she would have a lot to show me about this and then just send me off to bed before I needed to show her. She then placed the gem into a jar, and shook it. The jar became a lantern, lighting the room in a purple light. It was interesting, for some, but for somepony like myself, it was dull. I wished I could use it though, just so I would feel more like a unicorn, and less like a failure. A knock at the door, an overseer entering the room. “Excuse me,” Fera said, “I’ll be right back, sweetie.” Her kindness was becoming unsettling. As soon as the door closed and they had left, I went straight for the strange, onyx tweezers. I had no idea how to use it at first, but I knew where the threads were. I pulled at the first, mostly clipping some of it. It took me a bit to understand how it worked, but as soon as I did, I was pulling about every thread out, but left about three in so that the mask would stay on my face. There was no pain or blood, as the holes were like piercings, and the skin just grew around the threads. It felt good to have air enter the piercing holes. It was cold, but invigorating for the soul in ways that I can’t quite describe. I would’ve torn the whole mask off if there was a way to see myself, but even in the reflective crystalline walls, nothing came back but in blur. It was disappointing, but I accepted the fact that my face would never be known to me. I went back in front of the desk and sat down, waiting for Fera to come back, but she never did. The Preceptor entered the room, and sat down in her desk. I did not speak, fearing his wrath. It was he who spoke first, eventually. “It’s about time for the carnival act, little one. I hope you don’t disappoint. You proved a good laugh back in the showroom.” I said nothing. “Are you mute, filly? Speak! For the next act is for those with deafened ears!” I didn’t know what he meant. I hated the way the preceptor spoke. He kept his ranting up for a bit before he ordered two overseers to come and get me. They dragged me out into the hallway again and took me towards a doorway far down the hallway. The two spoke to each other, saying how the stage was filled already and that they didn’t like missing as much as they have already. They didn’t say what was going on out there, only that it was exciting for them. I was afraid. I wanted to take off my mask in front of the Taskmasters as soon as I got out there. I wanted to make the unharmable bleed. I wanted to die a little bit too. I didn’t want it to end though, its a confusing feeling, like you’ve given your all but you just need to rest for a bit so you could get back up. As we came closer to the doors, I could hear some screaming, but nothing too bad. I didn’t know what to expect out there, but I was ready for it, even if I was frightened. Every challenge so far, I’ve overcome. From the near death experience, to the boiling skin, watching the older star pony melt away, watching my best friend die, the rape. Whatever they had next, could only go so far. I would fight it, and whether or not I win, it doesn’t matter, as long as I resist them. My silence would be amplified by the many. The door was right in front of us now. The overseers put me down to open the door, and I did not run. I could’ve, but even if I got far, there was little point in running when fighting is necessary. The enlightment of death was coming quickly, I could feel it. Author's Note Sorry, I had already written the last chapter and the gap was hard to write. I don't like this chapter at all, but its better than the other gap chapters I wrote.
FinaleThe overseers slammed the doors opened and threw me onto the stage. I had never seen it before. It was astonishingly gruesome. Blood stained walls, bones sticking from the stage floor. It was no carnival, but a sacrificial arena. I looked up to see my fellow colleagues going through dangerous, and sometimes, death ensuring, obstacles or tasks. The pegasi had their wings clamped down when they walked the tight ropes, the animal handlers had no protection or leashes, no tools in which to keep order. It didn’t seem normal. Perhaps they lied to us about the twenty year cycle before, maybe it was just one cycle, and then we’re all diverted here for an end. Taskmaster Un’s machines had been brought out, spikes everywhere. One of the animal handlers walked into a bear trap when backing away from his manticore. He screamed, but not for long, as the manticore would soon find another treat after him. I looked towards the blasphemous crowd, they were less than Baltimare, but the audience was all star ponies. The flecks of purple reflected so well together that you wouldn’t have seen an audience from afar, just a wall pattern. They were protected by some form of forcefield magic. I walked forward into the stage, going slow in order to keep away the raging manticore’s attention. One of the pegasi fell from a tower, dying instantly as he met the ground. The animals found their new treat. I didn’t see any magic users yet. I seemed to be the only unicorn out here. I looked up again to see who was left on the towers, very few. There was a large cage up on the roof. It looked like a torch to light the place up, but I knew well what it was. Perhaps it was some kind of oil bomb, or a phoenix, either way, it was the finishing act. I looked for protection, finding that the many rocky structures on the floor of the stage would do little against the manticore. Still, they would make for a best bet. I ran for one as he still fed upon his treat. He had been starved, clearly, as he ate the bones with him, even the mask too. The other stage entrances opened up, revealing cages. More animals arrived. There was a small, wild dragon walking on four legs, and restless wings. Another was a beast I had never seen before, it illuminated slightly, and was monstrous in detail. The thing looked as if a creature of slime and sut, moving illogically. It was living tar. The manticore had poked his head back up, finishing his snack. Few ponies were left on the stage floor. The dragon took for the towers. The other two stalked around. Nopony was trying to take control anymore. Their training was nonexistent in this moment. The tar monster devoured, or dissolved a pony before my eyes. He screamed until his mouth was covered. I ran behind a new rock foundation. I tried to close my eyes and forget what was happening. It was silly for me to think hiding would do any good. The creatures would eventually find me and end my life. I didn’t expect any of this when they took me away. I had hoped that I could have a chance to change all this, but instead, I would be silenced in a roaring applause. After a while, there were only about five of us left. The dragon was still up in the towers. When I opened my eyes, the tar monster was gone, but in his place, the manticore. I yelled as he came near me, tears rolling down my face. This was it, my ending. He got closer to me, and I crawled as far as I could into the chasm of the rock formation. I started throwing pebbles at him, but it did no good. There was a large cracking sound from behind me, I couldn’t tell what it was. As the manticore pushed his opened mouth at me one final time, the tar monster found itself out of ponies, but craving manticore. It had grabbed the foot of the manticore, distracting it from me. I ran as it started consuming the beast. As I came around the backside of my former fortress, I could see the cause of the cracking noise. The dragon’s weight and damage to one of the towers had become too much. It was breaking, and in one final second, it began to fall near my direction. I ducked as it fell. I heard a scream as a pony was crushed by its effect. The dragon, out of victims, landed itself near me. The tar monster would soon be after me too. The rocks would hold no protection from it. I ran up the fallen tower out of instincts. The dragon followed, and I started tearing off wood from the tower to throw at it. Once again, not helpful. When the tar monster came for me, it went after the dragon too. The two battled, unlike the manticore, who could do nothing. The dragon reigned fire on the tar, slowing it down as it came upon the dragon. They struggled together for a bit, and I ran towards the tip of the structure for a safe distance from the flames. The tar monster began to harden, dying from the heat. The dragon was stuck within it as he died, unable to move his legs, nor his neck. It could not break free. I was safe. I turned towards the crowd, being one of the ponies last standing, as I could see another still breathing, coming out from under a rock. I looked at them all, giving them each a stare. The Preceptor was in the crowd, and he stared back, defeated. The Taskmasters surrounded him, silent, just as he was. It was an awkward moment for them, as for the first time, they were no longer gods. It was in this moment that I put my hoof to my mask and painfully tugged it off, tearing the last few threads out with it. Blood dripped out the seems as my mask finally came off. One of the Taskmasters came forward, it was Fera, the youngest and supportive of them all. She lit up her horn. I didn’t understand what she meant with this. The sound of metal gears moving came from above. The finale was here. I looked up towards the fiery abyss, to see nothing but smoke fall. When it touched the ground, nightmares formed. Appearing before me, a shadow, the shadow of a pony. It had no mask, no face, nothing but darkness beyond black. It stared at me, and I, it. The wraith seemed unfurled, peaceful, and friendly. I was scared. There had been nothing like this before. As it came towards me, my vision faded. I grew tired, ready to sleep for a thousand years, if possible. Everything around me went silent and blinding. This was my end. Author's Note Woohoo! Now you can wait for the sequel if I ever actually start writing it.