Burial at Sea?

Zachary Coltstock was dead.

Through his heart, the drill of the monstrous creature that lumbered behind him whirled, splattering blood across the floor. Coltstock's face was frozen in remorse as the life drained from his eyes. All the years of shame were over now. Come Tartarus, or the after-life he had once believed in, the man who built his life on running from his actions was going to escape from this world and pass onto the next. The last memory he would take beyond the grave would be the stone-cold eyes of the mare who watched him die.

Elizabeth's eyes blinked once, then twice. This was the feeling of vengeance she had so long sought: warm blood propelled from a frantic sprinkler to the chorus of wailing cries and swirling blades. There was no question in her heart that he deserved to die. She could see all the doors, and beyond all the doors. In every last one, Zachary Coltstock deserved his fate at her hooves. He was a thief, a murderer, a liar, and the worst kind of monster that pony-kind could ever dream into reality.

Infinitely, in the same exact measure, he was also her hero, and her best friend. Coltstock was gone forever, that was true enough, but so was Booker DeWhinny. Both colts, separated by a simple choice, stared lifelessly into her eyes as the drill blades slowed to a crawl. It was over at last.

Slowly, Elizabeth started to back away from the horrific beast that finished the deed. His many eyes glowed red from the tiny holes in his diving helmet, exuding a protective malice that the mare knew all too well. With a lurch of his head, he threw the corpse of the colt off of his horn, causing it to thud against the wall where the cooling vent opened up. However, the cries of a little filly trapped inside kept his ire high.

Sally was slipping. Her hooves were losing traction as they desperately tried to grab hold of something solid with which she could pull herself to safety, out of the duct. Below, she could feel the heat of the furnace, the inferno she was so desperately trying to escape from. Blood from the deceased slicked the inside of the pipe, staining her hooves as she flailed. Perhaps, if she had wings, she could flutter past the resistance. Were she lucky enough to have a horn, magic could have pulled her from the depths. The earth pony cried for her daddy, reaching a lone hoof as far as she could.

An unnatural sound bellowed from the mechanical looking creature as his bulbous head swung between the lone hoof stretching out and the backpedaling mare. The drill that dominated his forehead started to spin around again, adding another note to this musical tragedy. One of his hooves rose from the floor to take Sally's, but the width of the thing dominated the vent. Vainly, he grunted, slamming the hoof against the wall before trying to fit it inside again. The wailing echoed through the pipe, tiny hooves scuffling against the metal, getting more and more distant with every passing second. The Big Daddy thrust his drill against the wall, trying to widen the vent, but it was too late.

A scream from below ended the symphony.

Elizabeth's blue eyes widened in horror, her ears flopping down against her head to try and shield herself from that awful sound. Emotion finally crept into her expression, melting away the ice, returning some frightful innocence to those glimmering orbs. Hooves worked backward as she made every effort to shut away the world around her.

This was a mistake. Coming to Rapture, killing the last Coltstock in the multiverse, all of it. In the watery world her tears created, she could see her bloody father slumped against the wall and the rage of the Big Daddy at the loss of his charge. Would he do anything to get her back, if he could? Was there enough emotion in the creature to risk everything to get the girl?

“No, please,” she whimpered.

The Big Daddy reared back, massive hooves flailing at the air before landing with a thud. Once back on all fours, it scuffed the ground in preparation before taking off into full gallop. The entirety of the dilapidated toy store shook with his force. He cared little what stood in his way, or how fast he was charging; his only goal was vengeance for his loss.

Elizabeth took off as fast as her hooves could manage. She could feel his anger with every vibration, and the images of possible futures began to assault her mind. One turn to the left could make her a corpse pressed up against breaking glass with a view of the ocean floor. Hesitating for even a moment could mean an early grave with only the half-assembled toys across the store floor to mourn her. The Lettuces had mentioned before that she now possessed a limited form of omniscience, able to see every possibility at once. All of that hinged upon one very important factor, however: choice.

As she raced through the dim corridors, monster following close behind, an idle thought crossed her mind. Why was she running? Even with all of her power to tear through reality, gifted to her by the accidental severing of the end of one of her front hooves, this creature would be more than a match for her. He desired vengeance, like she had just moments before. What was her right to deny him justice for the death of that little filly? When her eyes turned to either side, a flash consumed her vision, and just for a moment, she could see Coltstock running where her reflection should be. Elizabeth was moving so fast that she barely registered the fresh blood mixing with that of her father's down from her nostrils.

“Just keep running,” she huffed to herself.

The hallway split into a t-shape at the end, offering the mare a very simple choice. Left or right? Visions of both outcomes entered her mind at once, but the adrenaline pumping through her body and the sudden nose bleed blurred her senses. One led to a dead-end, a vaulted door what was leaking. The other led to another store with more hallways and passages to run through. Which was which was beyond her now. Breath caught heavily in her chest as the time to decide drew closer with every clop-clop of her hooves against the floor. A turn of the head to look back only welcomed her with assurance that there was no time to pause and choose carefully.

Bracing herself, she halted into a slide, letting her momentum and the position of her body swing herself into an arc to the left. Her behind and tail glided straight into a growing puddle while a vaulted door loomed above. This was the dead end; she had to get back on her hooves, this instant! The horseshoe that protected her injured limb found some traction, and she managed to pull herself up, only to stumble with her back hooves as they caught on the train of her dress. Cursing, she stamped the floor with her back legs and lurched forward, tearing the skirt of the dress, letting herself free from its grip. A little songbird was now freely displayed on her flank.

An ear-splitting crash at the intersection ended any hope of escape. The Big Daddy had charged straight into the glass between the left and right turns, lodging the turning drill deep into the window. A network of cracks spread like ice on a frosty window, splintering out from the source and joining in with those that had caused the leak to create a series of tiny spouts that threatened to burst the wall completely. Hefting his gigantic hooves against the wall for leverage, he tried to pull his drill out, which only multiplied the damage. The red light that burst forth from every window of his dome reflected across the water from the emerging fountains, casting an eerie glow against the bloodied mare.

Now, she had another choice to make. Her opponent was harmless for the moment, but the imminent deluge would wash them both away, even if she managed to push herself past him. Luckily, she was Elizabeth Coltstock, which meant there was always another option.

The red glimmer was now joined by a blue one that gathered around Elizabeth's horn. Tears slid down her muzzle as everything scrunched together in concentration. She needed to leave, immediately, even if it meant tearing a hole in reality for her to gallop through. Her injured hoof tingled when the magic reached the apex of her horn and began to collect in the air. Suddenly, the thin fabric of existence tore down the middle, creating a jagged oval surrounded by mystical discharge. Without taking the time to look into the mirror-like window to see where she was headed, Elizabeth dashed forward and closed the opening behind her, leaving the Big Daddy to his fate.

'Twitch'a'twitch!'

Pinkie Pie's tail twittered on its own accord, causing the mare to lurch comically into the air to get a better look. She waited a few moments for the feeling to pass, curious if this was leading into one of her Pinkie Sense combinations. When nothing else moved on its own, she gave a big sigh of relief and adjusted her rainbow-colored rain hat with her hoof.

“My tail is still twitch'a'twitching everypony!” she called out to any that would heed her warning, “Watch your heads! I'm sure it's going to pass soon!”

The reaction from the various other citizens of Ponyville was earnest, at least so far as the earth pony could tell. Most of the streets were absolutely clear, and many ponies were seen waiting idly by their windows and doors, hoping for the mare to give the 'all-clear.' Once Pinkie was out of sight, many eyes were rolled and whispers of doubt and impatience chattered away. Only brand new residents of the small town doubted the unusual pony's ability to predict the future, but Pinkie's tail had been twitching since sunrise and there was work to be done.

With her rounds completely around mane street, Pinkie arrived back at Sugarcube Corner. The aroma of freshly baked cupcakes was wafting from the front door's window, drawing the mare through the air quite literally once she rounded the corner. Her hooves waggled freely, and her tongue flopped free from her muzzle.

“Warning ponies sure does make me hungry!” she said to herself, “And I wish whatever was gonna fall would just fall already. I'm getting tired of twitch'a'twitching. Wow, I'm tired and hungry! Heehee! I'm a mess.”

The Cakes were busy inside the kitchen, preparing for the rush that was sure to come after something, anything, fell from the heavens. Resting inside the oven, a tray full of deliciously moist cupcakes slowly rose in their tiny compartments, being watched eagerly by Mr. Cake. His wife, meanwhile, was busy attending the pair of foals who were sitting proudly in their high-chairs under the safety of a spectrum colored umbrella. She was soon joined by Pinkie, who had safely landed back on the ground from her brief scent-induced flight.

“Pinkie, you're back,” Mrs. Cake said with a hint of trepidation.

“Yep! I went all over Ponyville, waiting for something to fall and warning ponies,” she replied, pressing her nose up against the oven's window next to the other baker.

“Is it over yet?” Mr. Cake asked, nervously looking between his family and his house guest.

“Well, my tail hasn't twitched since I finished my rounds, so maybe!”

Just as the words left her muzzle, Pinkie's tail rose into the air and began to wiggle about incessantly, starting a chain reaction that migrated throughout the mare's entire body. Every inch of her quaked and wobbled about, breaking several laws of physics and warping what seemed to make sense for her anatomy. The Cakes shielded themselves from her cartoonish reaction, but the foals eagerly cooed and clapped their hooves at the show. Pinkie ended the combo by stamping her hooves authoritatively against the ground.

“Woah.”

“Pinkie! Are you alr-”

“Woah!”

“What does that me-”

“WOAH!” Pinkie exclaimed, rearing back and waggling her hooves in the air excitedly before zooming off to nowhere in particular.

Nervously, the couple exchanged glances. Even the foals looked uncomfortable now that the show had ended. When the Cakes united in a warm embrace, a collective sigh passed through them both.

“Sometimes, I worry about that mare,” Mr. Cake said solemnly.

Upstairs, Pinkie was frantically going through her things, tossing them this way and that. Her armoire was burst open, and various party paraphernalia was flying from its depths, unconsciously decorating the room for some sort of unforeseen event. Despite her ability to throw a party on a whim and decorate in an instant with her party cannon, all of this was unintentional. By the time the wardrobe was empty, the room was glittering with streamers and bright colors, but Pinkie was left disappointed.

Summoning the speed that seemed to come and go from her list of abilities, the mare rushed from room to room doing a rapid fire search. Her disappointed face stretched deeper every time she returned to the hallway with empty hooves until she finally ended up sitting glumly on her bed. Despite the colors that surrounded the mare, she looked absolutely, positively glum.

“Darn it, where is he?” she sighed, “It's dangerous out there!”

It was dangerous, indeed, for that combination meant only one thing: something was going to fall from the sky that Pinkie had never expected before! That came down to a very short-list, considering she had encountered chocolate rain showers, dragons, and all sorts of other wacky things in her time. On the one hoof, it could be something amazing beyond imagination! On the other, it could be the end of modern Equestria as they knew it.

Without her alligator to cuddle up to, the lonely mare tugged her pillow from the head of the bed and huddled it against her body. She slumped down slowly against the soft mattress with another twitch of her tail, eyes easing shut. All she could see were the faces of the citizens of Ponyville, rolling their eyes as she passed with her brightly colored hat and warnings of impending doom.

“There goes Pinkie Pie,” they whispered into her ear as she clung tighter to the pillow, “She's so weird. What in the wide, wide world of Equestria is wrong with her?”

She often wondered why she was so different from the others. Even her friends, though they didn't judge, acknowledged that she was a little... off. They ignored it, sure, played it off because that was convenient for them. What if they knew that she sometimes felt like they were all being watched, or if they saw reality as she did, something to stretch and push the boundaries of? Would they think she was completely insane? Was she completely insane?

“Oh, Pinkie,” she told herself with the tiniest shake of her head, “You are a mess.”

“Strange. I was expecting Paris,” a male voice said in a decidedly Trottingham-like accent.

“You can't always be right, brother,” a woman responded, very matter-of-factly.

“Unless I am,” he added, “Still, she seemed to favor the bird.”

“Even the bird longs for the cage, sometimes.”

“And the cage is never complete without the bird, is it?”

“Unless it is,” they said in unison, smugness creeping into their voices before returning to the darkness between worlds where they had come from.

It was at that moment that a rift tore open the reality above Pinkie Pie's bed. The earth pony's eyes were still closed, of course, but she could hear the crackling of the portal and felt the electric charge ruffle up her fur. Her tail gave a final twitch before something fell from the heavens and landed hard upon her bed. When her eyes opened, they were met with the glistening blue orbs of another mare who was smeared in blood.

“I totally wasn't expecting that!”

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1! Please comment below if you have any questions, criticisms, compliments, or anything of that sort. Updates should come periodically.

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