//------------------------------// // 12 // Story: The Blessed // by RarityEQM //------------------------------// "When I...was a little filly and the sun was...was going down...heh, the darkness and the shadows, they would always make...make me...make me..." Pinkie sputtered, stumbling through the under brush. It was agony. Everything was agony. Her legs hurt. Her sides hurt. Her tummy hurt. Everything hurt. She drew in a quiet breath of air, coughed, and limped forward, forcing herself to continue through the darkness of the forest. "I'd hide under my pillow, from what I thought... I...I saw, but Granny Pie said...she said...I...I can't remember..." Pinkie coughed. She reached a hoof up and rubbed her eyes, trying to discern where she was supposed to be going. Or even where she was. All the trees looked the same under a blanket of darkness and she wasn't too familiar with the Everfree Forest. But it was the only place she knew would be safe. Safe from Twilight and the others at least. Safe for the time being. She'd have to deal with Twilight sooner rather than later if she wanted to proceed with her plans. She'd have no choice in the matter. What she really wanted more than anything at all, for that matter, was to sleep. Just for a little bit. Just for a few minutes. She chuckled sadly. Sleep, of course, was impossible at the moment. She'd eaten her weight in chocolate, so she was entirely sure that sleep wasn't going to be happening anytime in the near or distant future. The longing for slumber was no match for the agony to be had if she did, go to sleep, however. She took another look around and sighed. Every direction seemed to point to darkness. There wasn't any light in sight. Not as deep as she was in the forest. Tentatively, Pinkie decided that this was as good a place as any and sat down. Or, more accurately, this was the place Pinkie's legs finally gave out from under her weight, and she crumpled to the forest floor with an intense squeal of pain. The explosion had really done a number on her, afterwhich she'd forced herself to walk from town into the forest as quickly as she could on battered, beaten legs, singed fur and sprained joints. She'd been much, much to close when the blast happened. She groaned. For all the trouble she'd gone through, the planning, staking out the area, trying to time everything just right, she still managed to fail in her task. She didn't get all three of them. She'd tried though. It wasn't because she didn't try. She pulled herself into a sitting position, and crawled towards the nearest tree trunk to lean back against it and prop herself up. Why did she feel so cold all of a sudden? Cold and lonely. She could fix one of those issues, however, and she reached up into her singed, tattered mane and pulled free a crumpled piece of pink rubber. A few puffs later with a tug and a twist and she held a flimsy balloon animal that vaguely resembled an alligator. It wasn't the love of a friendly toothless pet, but it was the closest thing she had at the moment. It would have to do, because right now, Pinkie really really needed a hug. Sheepishly, she squeezed it close and shut her eyes, doing the best to ignore the shooting pain somewhere deep in her core. Were those her ribs? Were they cracked? Celestia, everything felt like it was on fire. "Do you think Gummy misses me, Balloonie?" Pinkie asked quietly. The little pink balloon nodded its little pink head with the help of a little pink hoof. Pinkie smiled weakly. "And, and maybe the Cakes, too? Mr. n' Mrs. and Pound and Pumpkin?" Pinkie whimpered. Again, Balloonie nodded. Pinkie gave a little sigh of relief and hugged him. "You're right, Balloonie. They probably do miss me. M-maybe they'll forgive me for all the silly things I've done. They would, don't you think? T-they have to, right? They're my family. M-my other family, I mean. It's okay, though. They'll forgive me, j-just like Twilight and the others, right? They will, w-won't they?" Pinkie squawked. The little Balloon animal was silent. Pinkie sighed. "Balloonie...I wanna go home...I'm done. I think I'm done," she whispered. Quietly, Balloonie shook his little pink head. "No," Pinkie balked. She leaned back against the tree and examined at the little balloon animal carefully. Did it just speak? That couldn't be right. She wasn't that tired, was she? Sure it has been days since she'd last slept, and she'd started seeing things move out of the corner of her eye, but this wasn't happening, was it? No. No there wasn't anyway that the balloon was talking to her. She narrowed her eyes and placed Balloonie on the ground. Much to Pinkie's amazement, it took a wobbly little step forward and turned around, glaring up at her. "You are not done, Pinkie. There is more work to do. You must finish the work, Pinkie, you must finish the work," Balloonie hissed. "Yes, I know, b-but.." "No buts, Pinkie. You have to keep going. You cannot stop," Balloonie hissed. "I'm so tired. I don't feel good. I wanna go home...please..." "You cannot stop, Pinkie. You cannot stop," Balloonie hissed. "I know, but, maybe..." "No. Pinkie. You know what must be done. You know what will happen if you fail. You must continue, Pinkie. No pony else will understand. You know what must be done, Pinkie. You cannot stop. You cannot stop. You cannot stop," Balloonie hissed. "N-no...I...I..." "Get up, Pinkie. Your work is not finished," Balloonie hissed. Pinkie shook her head quietly. "I can't get up. It hurts to move. My legs aren't working right, and-" "Get up, Pinkie," "I told you, I can't. I-" "GET UP, PINKIE!" "I SAID I CAN'T!" Pinkie screamed, the pink balloon growing blurry through tears. She could still hear it, though. Clear as a bell and ringing in her skull. "GET UP, PINKIE!!" "You're in my head! You're just in my head! YOU'RE NOT REAL!! THIS ISN'T REAL! SHUT UP! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT!! I DON'T WANT TO! I SAID I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!!" she shrieked as loud as she could. Too much coffee. Too much caffeine. Not enough sleep. That was all. That was all it wa- "GET UP, PINKIE!! GET UP, PINKIE!! GET UP, PINKIE!!" Pinkie blinked away her tears and seized the little pink balloon, popping it with an ear splitting, echoing SCREAM of a sound that she was sure could be heard for miles. With an explosive blast that rattled the trees and trembled the earth, the balloon was no more. Slowly, Pinkie reached a hoof up, and rubbed it across her eyes. Even that movement was fire screaming inside of her. She wanted t- G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝G̴̨̢̰͖̜͖̙̱͗͋̋̂͂͝Ĕ̴͉̼͖̮̹̙̳̭͠ͅT̵̢̡̫͔̣̟̮̦̯̰͇͎̈́͜ͅ ̶̧̖͕̦͎̜͈̪̆͌̂́̽̊̾U̴̮̤̹̚P̵̻̟̑̐̎̋̎̍̇̓̆̇͗̈́̉͘̚ ̴̢̛̺̲̱͉̲̭̺̗̺̃͂̈́̏͒̎̐̄̾̂͑̒̕͜͝ͅP̷̥̫̼̙͔̟̬̳̄̓̋̈̌̌I̴͖̭̓͘N̴̺̟̰̭̮͚̰̱̩̎̿̃͐͊̈́͊͘̚͜K̷̘̝̀̓̆Ì̵̧̜̗͉̫̬͙̤͖̥̖͇͚͔̪̓̈́̅́̌̊̋̅̀͝Ẹ̴̤̫̺̳͔͒̂͊̈́͜ͅ!̶̢̜̻̼͚̼̪͈̣̻͇̣͋̂͛̅́͜!̶̢̼̃̂̈́̇́͐̈̚͝ Pinkie sobbed. The thundering echo of the voice was relentless. Screaming at her over and over and over again, bouncing in her mind and gnawing at her soul. What else was there to do? Pinkie crawled to her hooves, trembling at her body weight and took an agonizing step forward. She couldn't stop. Not yet. She still had work to do, after all.