//------------------------------//
// Chapter I - Mysterious White Box 
// Story: My Little Outsider 
// by SamMaherGamer 
//------------------------------//

Thurman Robertson was sitting in his gloomy room playing his old, rustic guitar. It was a nuisance to him, as he'd never be able to play it right; not even with the months of torturous tutoring he was getting from his devilish father. Had Thurman been allowed to play the trumpet or the drums, he'd be legendary by now. However, having a grouchy father was an obstacle he had to live with, and that included the fact that he had forced him to play the guitar. 

Instead of playing the guitar today, however, Thurman was seeing into the blank space of what could only be his own mind's eye. Although unsure of his others' minds worked, he rendered his thoughts like the coding in a computer or a script for a play: he saw everything a different way. 

Today was different, in being that what he saw wasn't actually in his head. Fire was creeping its way across his closed ornate curtains, slowly letting the daylight outside seep its way into the house. Usually he'd have his curtains closed, as only thing that light would do for him is shine in his eyes during times of tiredness, yet today it would seem that he wouldn't be blocking the harsh sunlight anytime soon. Rising from his chair and dropping his guitar to the side, he rushed over and flailed his arms at the curtains in a mild attempt to eliminate the flames. Having no effect, Thurman ran to the bathroom down the hall and brought back a hasty handful of water. Flinging the water onto the fire seemed to have no effect, only letting it spread more. With scarcely limited options left, he ripped the curtains straight off the railing and threw them on the ground. Stomping on the pile of crisp, burnt fabric looked only to worsen his luck as the smoke detector started to blare its infernal beeping. The noise caused him to jump, before he grabbed his chair and positioned it so that he could use it to reach the alarm, and turn it off.

With success, he jumped down and bent over in order to pick up the tattered, charcoaled curtains and chuck them into the corner. Shortly after doing so, he heard something stomping up the stairway.
"What did you do? Ya little shithole!" Bellowed his father. Yes, his father was a drunken idiot. As to why he was always drunk, Thurman had the slightest idea. Although, Thurman thought it may have been because his father's friend had been raped while they had lived at university. 

Yep, it was a rough life on Thurman, although he pushed through. He had always pushed through the worst of situations; His skateboard broke? Meh. His pet dog killed? Damn shame. He had a lot of sympathy, but he kept all his emotions behind a mask. The reason being that when Thurman was smaller, he'd been beaten by his father if he didn't please him or if he showed any neglect towards anything. He'd also get bashed by his father if he'd cried or snivelled during the first round of the beating. His father still did pull a punch towards him occasionally, however, not as often as he'd used to.

Other than his father, there was his mother and his sister. Thurman's mother was a fat, depressed mother who didn't give a crap about the outside world, nor the conflict between her husband and son. She stayed in bed all the time and Thurman was the one who had to bring her food, as well as do her washing. Her room stunk like hell, and as it turns out, it was because she hasn't showered for weeks. 

That leaves Thurman's sister. Her name was Laura, and she was almost only four years old. He also had to look after her and entertain her all day, resulting in a lack of education for him. Almost all of the time, he'd be at home instead of school. Laura was born due to Thurman's father half-raping his lifeless mother about three years ago.

Honestly, Thurman would do anything for his sister, and had already done so on many occasions. His father would be pissed off with Laura, so he'd raise his fist and then... Bam! Thurman would be in his dad's path blocking his arm from making a connection with Laura's head. Normally, his father was almost two times stronger than the average man, but Thurman had toughened up. Living in a house and doing all the work looked to be a great exercise, and having to deal with your drunken father too? That, was a skull-shattering combination when it came to muscle. Blocking his father's hammer of a fist, he'd told his father to piss off and took Laura to his room. Later that night, when Thurman was sleeping, his father got his hands on a branding iron and prodded him in his sleep. He stil had the mark to prove it on his chest.

Fading back to reality, Thurman realised that his father was still blaring at him. "Do you know how much those fucking curtains cost? They're like a fucking million dollars or something! You dipshitting bastard! You've got a fucking lot of explaining to do if you want to live the rest of your life without a bunch of knives sticking out of yo-" he was cut off by a sound that resembled an explosion. Looking out of the window, Thurman's jaw dropped. Outside were at least twenty gunmen, all armed with what looked like powerful guns and belts of grenades. Hearing his father curse and leave the room, he raced back to his mother who was, as usual, lying on the old bed and staring up at the gloomy ceiling. 
"Just go. This is like the suicide I can easily do," said his mother. Thurman was shocked. He'd never heard his mother speak, well... Ever.
"No mum, you need to come too!"
"I wish to stay. That's final," she said, too depressed to even speak clearly.
"What about Laura?" Thurman continued, almost at the point of cracking, "what about her?"
"She can die for all I care. I just want the same fate for myself too,"
"You're cruel, you know that? You're a cruel bastard." He said angrily, leaving the hag to die like she wanted. Thurman quickly began to look for Laura. 
"Laura!" He shouted, only to hear a wire door swinging in the wind, "Crap."

<><><><>

Twilight Sparkle was sitting under her tree in the gentle, calm breeze. Not even a week after becoming a princess, she had pleaded to head back home to Ponyville and to her friends; the five other mares had to leave early to return to their careers. Twilight rode a carriage home. Yet, Celestia not only insisted, but ordered that there be two guards by her library's front door at all times. While she was out of her house, however, she could be free of the guards. Nevertheless, they haven't been any problem as of late and almost seemed like good friends to her now. 

Having a job as the princess was surprisingly easy as she didn't actually have to sign any paperwork or any of the such, but she was still assigned to working on her 'friendship reports' alongside her five pony friends. 
"Twilight." Came a child's shout. Turning around, she saw that it was Spike, and that he was holding a small scroll in his claws. Plucking the rolled parchment from his talons, she unraveled it and began to read:

'Dearest Student, 

An unknown object has formed and merged in one of the walls in my royal quarters. I am unaware on what it may be and I request you and your friends to come and investigate it. 

If you cannot identify it, it may be of interest of you to travel to where this object came from. Nevertheless, I request your presence in Canterlot immediately.

Have a nice trip,


-Celestia'

Twilight was unaware of what the object may be, nor what it even looked like, but she was willing to help the princess by any means possible.
"Come on, Spike. We're headed for Canterlot."

<><><><>

Thurman Robertson burst out of the door, nearly knocking it off its hinges. He wasn't nearly about to lose his sister to a bullet or an explosion. Once outside, he couldn't see more that two meters in any direction: The dirt was clouding around him in a shower of led pellets. Breaking into a full-on sprint, he started to call his sister's name. "Laura! Where are you?!"

Not seeing her anywhere, tears began to form in Thurman's eyes. He continued to run and shout her name, but his yells quickly became sobs of despair. He would rarely pass a body or amputated limb, but absolutely nowhere could he see his sister or his father. He circled the area from left to right, dodging the occasional fist or bullet. After what seemed like hours, yet was only minutes, he saw her. She seemed healthy, but was crying and had pieces of shrapnel embedded in her bloody side.

Thurman knelt down next to her and tried to pick her up without disturbing the metal shards that had made their way into her flesh. The ruins of a fallen building faded into view, and Thurman quickly made his way towards it, picking out the shrapnel from Laura's skin. 

Knowing that he was causing her pain was unbearable, but he preferred to imagine it as if it were a dislocated shoulder, and that the pain was a price to pay to fix the problem at hand. Once under the collapsed roof of the building, he sat there and held his weeping sister to his chest, trying to hug all of the pain out of her. It was only a few seconds before he heard gunfire to his right side, so he quickly pulled his sister close and huddled to the far corner in order to hide himself...

<><><><>

Having recently arrived in Canterlot, Twilight Sparkle and her friends made their way to Celestia's quarters. As they stepped in, they saw a large domed roof giving off a brilliant, bright light of an unknown source. Walking further into the room, they strode towards where the princesses stood.
"Hello Twilight," came the motherly voice of Celestia, causing Twilight to bow.
"Good afternoon Celestia. I've brought the others like you asked!" Twilight said enthusiastically.
"I see. Come this way please." Celestia started to look serious. 
"Hang on a darn minute, Twilight. We still don't even know what's going on!" Applejack interjected.
"Uh," Twilight smiled sheepishly, "well, I received a letter from the princess stating that she found a mysterious object in the wall of her quarters, and she'd like us to have a look at it!" 
"Where is this... Object of sorts?" Asked Rarity.
"Is it a box of streamers?" Shouted Pinkie Pie, "Or it could be a giant birthday cake!"
"Pinkie," Twilight moaned, "if it were any of those things you just stated, Celestia wouldn't have called us. Celestia? Lead the way,"
"This way," Celestia guided the ponies towards the far wall of her room.
Upon arrival, all but Pinkie and the princesses gasped at the unexplainable sight: A large white box with a round, glass window on the front had materialised inside the wall.
"I-I don't," Twilight stuttered, "w-what is it?"
"As I said, Twilight, I have no idea as to what it may resemble," Celestia spoke, "however, I think somepony may have teleported it into the wall. Do you remember that teleportation tracing spell I sent you a couple of months back?"
"Yes. Would you like me to-"
"Wait a minute. Why didn't you just go instead?" Asked Rainbow Dash. 
"Because, Rainbow Dash, I am too tall to risk the chance of forming inside of the source's roof,"
"Okay princess', we're ready," said Twilight as her horn began to glow a bright purple. 
"Good luck, my little ponies."

<><><><>

The bullets sprayed from the barrel of he gun smashed into the flesh of Thurman's side. Pulling his sister closer, he eyed a blunt kitchen knife off to hit right. Leaning over, he grabbed the knife and sat in a protective stance, still willing to risk his life for his sister. 

The attacker snuck under the ruins of the house to find his target; a young boy with a smaller girl in his arms. Too easy! He levelled his rifle to the boy's forehead and begun to pull the trigger. Blam! He didn't hit anything. The light from the explosion in the barrel was a bright purple, then he was gone. Magic bullets? What the hell?