My little short stories- Tales of Dream castle

by Paradise Oasis

Wind Whistler; Origins

Hellooooo, my fellow equines of the pony variety! My name's Cuddles- Dream Valley's resident counselor, helping ponies work through the problems that bother them! I'm here to cheer up any stallion that's sad, and I love to give a smile to any mare with a frown! My special talent is making ponies who are down feel better, and I helping my fellow equines live in a world of rainbow, laughter, and sunshine! It is my sworn duty to help everybody who is in Dream Valley and depressed find their happy place. (Except for Surprise, that mare was born in her happy place, and I don't think she's even CAPABLE of leaving there!) Yes, I make it my mission to sit down, and talk out any problems the ponies under my care may have.

Now, most ponies problems are simple; a little self esteem message to an under-confident Sweet Stuff here, a message to slow down and enjoy life for Whizzer there. Fizzy hardy ever needs my help to feel good about life, while Sparkler is virtually always in my office for help with her drinking problem. I've encountered all kinds in my line of work, but... there are those oddball cases that really really do stick out in my memory. One really interesting case comes to mind right now, of a certain Genius pony....

"Miss Cuddles? Are you present at this time and place?" Wind Whistler asked me, sticking her head through the door into my office. "I was hoping to converse with you on a matter of importance to my emotional well-being."

"Of course, Windy! I always have time for one of my pony friends!" I gesture with my hoof for her to come in and sit down. "Although, I would really like to ask you to use normal speech when speaking to me, 'dumb it down' for me, if you will."

"Of...course... Miss Cuddles, I shall endeavor- er, I'll try to tell you what's bothering me." She struggles to say, lying down on the couch on the far side of my room. "This is something I started to think about recently, and I won't be able to put it out of my mind until I sort it out."

"All right then... why don't you tell me what's on your mind?" I ask, sitting down on my chair and picking up my notebook and pen in my hooves.

"Well... you know that a cutie mark is a symbol of destiny, right? It's the thing that symbolizes a pony's special talent, and tells them who they are?" She looked up as the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts. "Well, the whole recent fiasco with the poison joke, it got me thinking... I was still in there when that air headed personality was in control, and I saw how good she was at singing, and how happy her singing made the other ponies in the castle. The goofy me was a fake one, and would have eventually faded anyway. But it's left me with a haunted feeling, that I'm not really a true pony like my contemporaries- er, my friends."

"So you're worried the fake you is the you were supposed to be?" I speculate, writing on my clipboard. "You feel that your present life is some kind of mistake, or error?"

"This isn't the pony I was supposed to be, Cuddles. My name and cutie mark indicate a profession involving musical vocalizations, not the superior intellect that I-" She stopped herself, slapping her hoof against her face. "You see there?! I can't even speak a few sentences without breaking into techno-jargon and words so big most of my friends don't even understand them!"

"You feel your intelligence has set you off your intended destiny, and corrupted what fate had in store for you?" I ask her, trying to get Wind Whistler to carry this thought to it's logical conclusion. "Are you truly unhappy with what your life has been, since the gizmonks altered your mind?"

"Damn it, Cuddles! You can't even begin to understand what those primordial brutes did to me!" Whistler snorted in anger, slamming one of her hooves into my wall. "They tore my mind inside out, they took me apart piece by piece, and put me back together just to see what would happen when they did it! I was supposed to a singer, an entertainer! And sure, I can still sing beautifully. But I don't really enjoy it, as much as I enjoy working in my laboratory, or reading highly intellectual texts! I can't even relate to my friends and family. So I esquire to you, my good counselor, is this the pony I am supposed to be? Is it?!"

I do not have a chance to answer, as Fizzy comes running in, and has Wind Whistler rush away to help with a typical Dream Valley Crisis involving a witch turning the trees in the forest into cheese fondue. I was left to contemplate what I would tell that mare when she came back.

Opening my old case work files, I come across notes collected from a destroyed Gizmonk lab up north, the contents are about their abduction of two of our Dream Valley ponies about a decade back. Re-reading these old files, I cannot help but notice the contents are ... disturbing to say the least;

Gizmonk ministry of science- Dr. Munka Spanka, head researcher, biology division;

Report 2819:

Work on our new neural enhancement treatments go well, the animal test subjects are showing increased cognitive and motor skills when run through our battery of tests. New equine test subjects , brought in by well-paid goblin mercenaries, should be ample replacements for previous test subjects who did not survive electroshock treatment portion of testing. Subject #19, the pink one with sunglasses icon is bright and cheerful, asking too many questions, showing a high level of curiosity. I am hopeful treatments will be especially beneficial with this one. The blue winged one, subject #86, is outgoing and seems to has a musical inclination, constantly singing to keep the other equines’ spirits up. It is understandable why some think these 'ponies' are actually intelligent, as interactions with these simple beasts an leave a misleading impression. Will recommend that researchers are briefed on the natures of equine test subjects.

Report 2821:

Tests have proceeded well over the past several months, equines are responding well to psychotropic drugs and neural stimulation surgeries. Seven of our subjects have died from our experiments, one throwing herself against the bars until she caused sufficient head trauma to terminate her life functions. Subject# 19 is showing signs of trauma from reconditioning exercises; recommend upping the voltage on the platforms in the maze we have her run. Subject #86 is growing more sullen and insular, and a change is occurring in her demeanor that is cause for concern. Of particular note is how the subjects continue to rant about nonsense such as 'magic' and 'friendship', absurd notions that are impediments to reason and progress. Recommend further increase in morphine doses to quiet equines when the young, impressionable interns are around. We can't have these ideas getting into the youth's heads.

Report 2823:

Only two of our subjects remain alive, the now entirely docile subject #19, and the now enigmatic subject #86. Subject has ceased to mourn the deaths of her companions, unlike the constantly weeping subject #19, and has instead become more inquisitive about us and our procedures, showing the possibly hopeful signs of intelligence we are seeking. The autopsies of their deceased companion reveal further potential for neurological stimulation and growth- I almost regret using the last living specimen besides these two to be used in an organ transplant experiment that terminated his life functions- an incident that tells me we need to sound proof the walls of laboratory six in order to muffle subject's screaming. No.#86, the one with the odd, whistle shaped icons on her flank, may be our best bet for salvaging our experimentations. Tomorrow I will be administering a drug treatment to destroy the part of her brain associated with primitive emotional reflexes.

Report 2824:

It is far worse than I feared, subject #86 has gone out of control! She had us fooled all along, slowly learning about our facility and it's workings, all the while playing 'dumb' to meet our expectations on the rate of her intelligence growth. The truth was she had grown far more cunning than our arrogance would admit, a fact proven when she slipped out of her enclosure, and freed her lone surviving companion. Gaining access to our chemical labs, #86 mixed up a powerful neuro-toxin, and released it into our ventilation system, killing most of the gizmonks in the facility. Those few who had the presence of mind to slip on their gas masks, fell victim to 86's warped sense of justice- she made one run throughout the maze with the electroshock walls we forced her companion to run to, resulting in a very gruesome death for my colleague. Only I remain now, standing at the end of a long hallway as I write this, waiting for the end.

Already I can see my creation approaching me- her eyes filled with the calculating and logical gaze that will terminate my own life functions in a few moments. So cold and ruthless, I can only feel the pride not unlike a parent as I gaze upon such a thing of progressive scientific beauty that stands before me. If any Gizmonk finds this journal, my only request is I am immortalized in our people's archives for my contribution to our scientific knowledge. Long live the glory of rationality and reason, I-URK

Wind Whistler's right... those monsters did horrible things to her! What do I say to this mare to alleviate her fears that she is a freak? How can I possibly offer her comfort for things that NEVER should have happened to a pony?! I must come up with something to say to her before the next time we meet!

Comments

[FleetlordAvatar]

Think long and hard my friend.

[Leave a Whisper]

That's horrible! Poor ponies.