Bad Trip Diaries

by The Boorywooch

Chapter 8, or Catharsis! Much tension!

The day that I finally snapped

The bubble was finally removed today; which was rather pityful, as I've managed to use it like a hamster ball; rolling downstairs was kind of a good fun – except the fact that ascending the stairs was pretty challenging; oi, me say, this goes straight to the legs, so I've had a leg day all the time in this wretched bubble.

However, once the pinkish prison popped into nothingness, beaming Twilight presented me with another scroll of parchment; I blankly inquired if it was from the Princess/es; she answered positively, assuring me that at least one of the described methods would be succesful.

This seemed at least a dubious statement, though, seeing the slightly crazed expression of the mare, I'd opted to roll me opinion up and shove it deep into me rear pocket.

When someone who can imprison you in an impenetrable container with a crease of a brow and hold there for a number of days says you're up for the experimentation – you better shut yer windhole and go for it.

Ignore the last statement, of course. Magic ain't real, and is someone forcefully locks you up, they're subject to: a) beating the living crap out of them and b) criminal proceeding. Given that they make it through the a) part.

Meanwhile, as I was musing at the beating-and-proceeding part, Twilight led me to the cellar – not the storage part of it, which was a rather hospitable home for me, but the other – where her laboratory was situated. Just catching a whiff of the smells wafting around the place – ethanol, aether and fumes of sulphuric acid – I knew this is not going to be pretty.

And of course, it was not.

After the first round of various experimenting me guts felt like they've gained some twisted consciousness of their own, squirming in me stomach cavity, obviously protesting whatever Twilight was intending to rain down on me tired system; still, I objected and will object against the concept that 'magic' was included – even if I'm just a Doubting Thomas and a complete stubborn ass, which I sure was, providing the evidence presented.

I sat down quietly, trying to pacify me bowels, that objected loudly (gog, I never knew meteorism could be that loud), though Twilight seemed to never care that the next thing I was going to do is to puke the living guts out of me – instead, she was just rummaging through the shelves, picking out some vials and pots; ones were set back, and the other sat at the table, promising some queer chemical fun.

By the way, I've been experiencing that lil' bugging voice in the back of me head most of the time, convinving me, that all I've been subject to is just a bad trip, induced by toxic shock to the brain, and whatever I see, hear or do is hallucinatory and unreal – it's just me deliriously stalking around, doing some weird things, as my damaged brain interprets it as it wishes.

So, concluding whatever I've got at the time, me thought that another acid trip might be not that bad – whether or not I've gone nuts with the first time, this one might not actually do worse.

I mean – being trapped in some psychedelic realm of talking colourful equine-ish midgets, who talk, fly and do majyyyks – me probably already having a screw loose, or, rather, a couple. What could actually go wrong?

Well, whatever could, whatever rotten luck I'd hit that day – it had gone so totally wrong. As Twilight was fiddling with the chem stand, mixing, grinding, stirring, boiling etc., I remained still. But as soon as she turned to me with concern in her features, handing me a vial of some dubious glowing liquid – I swear to gog, it glowed much like the neon tubes you may see everywhere – and inquired that I'd drink it – I just snapped. No, I went amok for a time.

I do not recall the details – I just remember a taut, dark, gut-twisting wave, erupting from somewhere in me legs, flooded the entirety of me system, making me heartbeat slow down, curling me fingers into claw-like appendages, making me eyes red with popping vessels – and I just snatched the vial from the startled pony, crushed it against the floor, roaring something completely unintelligible into the air and crushing the shards of the fine glass with me boot into a powder; Twilight was obviously terrified, and me cannot blame the poor lass – it should've been terrible; I remember raging all around the lab, sweeping, crushing, jumping, roaring all the time – I even remember coughing clots of blood, as me throat overexerted itself, vocal chords damaged – and then, after rushing all around the lab, I've noticed a glittery mist where the crushed vial was – and the effect was somewhat similar of that the red cloth has on the raging bull.

I roared out again – and dashed forward, intent on swiping that mist away...

...and then the darkness came.

Oi, was that an unpleasant experience. It was so completely pitch black that eyes deceived me into thinking I suddenly ran blind, and I tried to reach whatever I could've reached – to no avail, of course.

I was suspended in a pitch black empty space, that was absolutely void of anything – well, save for my sorry arse, of course.

To say I was utterly terrified and shocked is to say nothing; I freezed in place, as much as you could freeze when you're hanging at the middle of nowhere – literally, with no stimuli affecting none of your sensory systems rather than hearing your own ragged breath and your frantic heartbeat; this is what the sensory deprivation torture must look like, I thought coldly, amazed and taken aback with the rational part of me mind, that kept thinking straight even at this time of turmoil.

Time? What do you call it in there, where there is nothing you can rely on? I tried counting my heartbeat rate – but lost track of it at seven-hundred-and-third pulse; I tried to pacify myself – to no avail; my mind wandered off, circling around the last moments in the waking world, like a bird of prey. There was no logical explanation as to what I've been doing and for what I've done.

At the time, I thought that me was actually dead.

No, not dead. I felt like a paper man – a flat piece of paper, cut out roughly in a shape of a human figure, laying on the sheet of paper – before; and now it looked like the paper man was taken away from his two-dimensional world and placed into a simple cube – that was me finding myself in Equestria: a new dimension kicked in to me two-dimensional mind. This, however, looked as if I was either shook off the cube – or rather placed into the four-dimentional tesseract. Thank you, my Maths and Geometry teacher – I remember what a tesseract is.

<crude sketches of rectangle, cube and tesseract scribbled on the page, with a point in the middle of each; points are outlined, each subscribed 'me?'>

This looked awfully lot like I was either completely off the handle – insane and FUBAR, or just simply and plain – dead.