//------------------------------// // Chapter One: The Bloody Begining // Story: Equestria; UNDEAD // by runningtoastgirl77 //------------------------------// I am a baker. I make many things, from cakes, cupcakes, muffins, etc. I am not too great at the sweeter stuff though. Although I suppose that makes sense, considering my cutiemark is a muffin, and I got it making muffins. However, my name doesn't really have anything to do with muffins... my name is Autumn by the way. I thought It would have something to do with the season but... nope. Muffins. Needless to say, I had never made too many friends. I mean, sure I had some "Friends", but the friend- friends, my real friends, were...rare. Being the way I am, so...bland, to trusting, it's easy to make toxic friends. Of course I don't have to worry about my friends anymore, trying to lower my self esteem or just generally tease me about my cutiemark- name coordination. Because they are all dead now. ... perhaps I should elaborate. It all started only a few months ago when... it happened. It was the birthday party of one of my pseudo friends, Tea Rose. “Why, thank you for baking me my birthday cake, Crumb Cake!” Tea Rose smiled awkwardly, levitating a fork full of sheet cake into her mouth. “For the last time, it’s ‘Autumn’. I don’t even like cake.” “Oh, come on, Crumb Cake!”, Tea Rose teased, flicking back her mane, “it’s just a little nickname! Loosen up, don’t be such a high horse, hum?” She then proceeded to laugh. I shrugged it off and picked up a pre-sliced plate of cake, then joined the other group of miscellaneous ponies. An average unicorn mare, which I think has a name Starburst or something of that nature spoke up to me. “So, Crumb Cake, did you make this cake all on your own?” “My name is Autumn, and yes I did. It’s kinda my thing.” I faked a smile. “Oh my!” Smiled a raspberry colored mare with a ball of yarn cutiemark. I think her name was Simple Stitches. “How… unique. Say, who styles your mane?” I glanced in the window reflection at myself. Long dark red and olive green mane, simple cream coat. An average looking earth pony. After realizing Simple Stitches was waiting for me to respond, I sputtered a pathetic, “N-no pony…” then they all went on to have petty conversations about their manes and stylists. I shoved my face into my cake. After eating my slice I looked up to see the unicorns staring at me with obvious discomfort. “That’s a little messy, isn’t it?” “Well, What do you-” I started. “What do you expect? She’s an earth pony. At least Pegasi have some manners…” Tea Rose whispered a little too loudly. I stared at them in silence. Without thinking, I felt my face get dry and my eyes get glossy. “O-oh…?” Tea Rose face hoofed quietly, then finally started up. “I’m sorry! I... I didn’t mean it, I swear.” “Is that how everypony thinks about me? Do I… disgust you?” I got up. “Autumn, I didn’t mean it. No, I’m not…” Tea Rose actually looked legitimately sorry, and started stumbling on her words. “I…,” I turned away from them. “I n-need to use the bathroom. Be right back.” “Autumn!” Tea Rose stumbled as I trotted away. I did a lot of thinking in the bathroom. Why was I even hanging out with these ponies? I spent a long time washing off my face and hooves, clearing my mind, and trying miserably not to cry. I’m not sure how long I had spent in the bathroom. Might have been minutes. Maybe an hour. Perhaps more. Still prepared to up and leave, I brushed myself off, wigged out my anger, and continued into the dining room where I left my friends. And what I was greeted to was blood and piles of severed pastel limbs. What? I stared, eyes wide open, at the scene unfolded before me. The party goers, my old friends… splayed before me in a diorama of death. Blood streaked the doorway, the door wide open. Did somepony -some creature - DRAG out the corpses? Like some sick gore collection? The only things left behind were limbs, severed heads smashed open with brute force, and organs haphazardly lying about the kitchen, lost in the… struggle. I’m not sure if I screamed. All I knew was I felt the vile of my stomach acids rise up my throat by the smell alone. I had to run through it to go out the door, then I continued to run in a full speed gallop, eventually making my way just outside of my village (A simple village whose name I now cannot even remember) and then I felt my legs ache as I fell to the ground finally letting my stomach spill. The feeling of exhaustion overcame my fragile, small body. From the ground, I looked up and saw a horrid excuse for what used to be a pony run at me, It’s coat covered in blood and exposed flesh. It groaned and moaned like a bubble from an overboiled pan of water. I couldn’t move, paralyzed in a mix of pain and fear. Did this… thing… kill them? Thoughts of my own demise scattered across my mind. Then the spear skewered through the pseudo pony’s skull, it’s body still twitching as it hit a nearby oak tree. Then it all faded to white. Fuzzy static clouded my mind. A ringing sensation filled my ears, and I started to sit up, rubbing my eyes. I felt so… cozy. Almost like a freshly washed blanket was wrapped around me. It was a nostalgic feel with the air filled with a nice herbal smell. A smell like a mix of cinnamon or maybe nutmeg with a mix of seasoned vegetables, or maybe even pepers. I glanced around. “I see that you're awake.” I jumped at the sudden appearance of a zebra, the most exotic pony I’ve ever seen. I’d heard of legends of Zebras from far of lands, seen in pictures of them in foal’s tales. But, here one was, even more beautiful than I had envisioned. The Zebra was strangely androgynous, tall and lean like a stallion, yet at the same time they were lovely and feminine, features as elegant as a mare, and yet… it puzzled me. I blushed and turned my head, embarrassed for staring at them. “Surprised someone like me saved you?” Their accent sent a shiver through me. “No… saved me?” My memories flowed back to me as gracefully as a rock slide. The bodies. The… blood. I then realized that I was inside an abandoned cottage in what seemed like a happy village once. The Inside was illuminated by candles, lanterns, and a wood stove. I was lying on a couch covered in a crochet blanket. Now I could see the zebra a little clearer without the haze of sleep. They were in casual wear, which was just jewelry which looked as if they were from their homeland. Two small gold hoops hung from their ears, as well as a single gold band around their neck. I blushed, realizing I was again staring at them. They smiled, grabbing a bowl off the counter. “Hungry?” The smell overwhelmed me, but the thought off Simple Stitch’s decapitated head on the kitchen table ruined my appetite. “What happened? Who are you?” “So, you're not hungry? Tsk. You ponies today and your diets,” they laughed, then frowned. “I found you after the break out. Horrible accident, really. As for who I am, my name is Zian. I am a Zebra.” Now I could defidentally hear the deep femininity in the exotic voice. “Accident?” “I suspect dark magic,” Zian said, drinking something. “Very dangerous curses. Raising some of the dead for unknown reasons, having them live among us, but with no self control. Only aggression and a need to feed.” “So… Zombies?” “Yes,” Zian rolled her eyes. “Zombies.” I sat there in disbelief. “Zian?” “Yes?” “How…” I glanced away. “How long have I been… sleeping?” “Two and a half days. Give of take.” My head was spinning. “Two days?” This couldn’t be real. This was all just some sick nightmare, I thought. A horrible joke, or perhaps a psychotic episode. And… if this was what was real… what could have possibly happened in two days? “It’s almost noon,” Zian said, taking a bite of a baked potato. “The others should be back soon.” “Others?” Zian nodded a smile forming across her muzzle. “They were gathering supplies. And scouting for the afflicted.” “Afflicted?” She narrowed her eyes. “The pony has many questions…” “Sorry…” “Perhaps it is time to ask? Considering you're going to be traveling with us.” Traveling? What pony said anything about… “Of course, if you don’t want to travel with us, ya’ can just stay behind, yeah?” I stood up. “Alright.” “So, what’s your name for starters?” I paused. “Autumn.” Her eyes brightened with a livid curiosity. “Really?” “Y-yes?” “Continuing on, Autumn,” her voice danced around each word. “What talents can you offer us?” “I… can bake?” She glanced at my flank. “I shoulda guessed.” A key jiggled into the door, and a shot from a gun filled the air. That was the first time I heard a gunshot. And it most definitely would not be the last.