Into the Nightmare
Undone by the Blood
Chapter 1: Into the Nightmare
'I'm dreaming.'
That's the first thing that I assume as I stare at the blackness before me. Floating in a void can't be anything else. My eyes watering as the acrid sting of alcohol and formaldehyde fills my sinuses tells me a different story. The hard surface against my side echoes the sentiment.
Not a dream, then. In that case, where am I? I don't recall going to sleep somewhere so foul-smelling. Indeed, I don't recall going to sleep at all.
Ah...
Huh? Is somepony speaking? Something brushes against my flank. It feels like a small twig, or a tiny hoof.
You've found yourselves a hunter...
A chorus of ragged little neighs answer that strange, feminine voice.
That's it, I struggle to my hooves, and nearly slide off whatever it is that I'm on. My eyes adjust at last. There's at least some light coming from a lone lamp by the far corner of this room. Dull orange light glints off the many many bottles, beakers, and test tubes scattered haphazardly across the various tables and shelves. The floor's littered with scattered papers and books, making it hard to see the hardwood floor. This thing I'm on must be an examination table. Am I a patient of sorts? A test subject? I need more details. I slide off the table, nearly tripping when I step on a loose bandage. Not a good sign. At least, I'm not bleeding. I hold a front hoof against the light; brown stains from old blood, and a few still-red splotches.
What was I doing here? The more I cast about my mind for answers, the more empty spots I discover. I don't recall going through any kind of procedure, I don't recall being brought here. I put a hoof to my face, feeling the cold sweat trickling past my brow. My name... I can't even recall my name. My hooves feel through my clothes. Perhaps, there was something in my pockets that might help. My shirt's breast pocket turns up nothing. Neither does the grey coat I have over it. I have a belt with a few pouches attached. They all come up empty.
I look to my flank. Of course, my cutie mark might jog my memory. Let's see... vertical line with a dot beneath it. Two more lines branch out downwards and diagonally from its bottom half only to bend at right angles to extend slightly towards the dot. The whole symbol is black, a sharp contrast to my light brown coat. Looks like some vague interpretation of a trident about to pierce a dot. I have no idea what it means. So much for that idea.
My heart starts to race as I turn to my surroundings for clues. There's a closed door just ahead. The glass panes on it are cracked, but the wood still appears sturdy. I take my first few steps. My legs are strong and steady, and my head's clear. Not missing blood then, despite the ominous bandages. No lingering effects from drugs apparently. My hooves leave imprints on the thin layer of dust on the floor, but no creaks from aging floor boards. The mess indicated abandonment, but this must be recent. Somepony must have lit that lamp too.
I turn my attention to the scattered papers. Somepony's a slob, or had to leave in a hurry. I pick one up with my mouth and set it on the table. Patient records as it turns out. The name doesn't ring a bell. Symptoms noted beneath. Something about increasingly dry skin, unnatural growth of limbs, and violent urges. That doesn't describe me in the slightest. Medication prescribed follows, along with results. I don't recognize all these drugs. This is a clinic then, but I'm no doctor. Nothing worked for this poor pony apparently.
The last part, though. That catches my attention for a moment. When the doctor ran out of options, he simply recommended "seek Magical Mystery Cure". Something familiar, at least, but I can't place it.
I go through a few more papers; different names, stallions and mares, different pony types, even a griffon and a mule. Symptoms are all the same, so's the final recommendation. Magical Mystery Cure...what is it? Is that why I'm here? Or was the doctor going to recommend the same thing to me?
Nothing more to be gained here. I push the door open with ease. Barely even a creak from the well-oiled hinges. Instead of a waiting room, however, I'm faced with a long flight of stairs. Well now, not enough for the doctor to put some space between his office and the waiting patients. It has to be a long climb up. There's something more disturbing, though.
I can smell blood.
The alcohol and formaldehyde are still clinging to me, but they can't hide that cloying, heavy, metallic stench. My throat constricts. There has to be a lot spilled to get such an overpowering smell. There's a single door at the bottom of the stairs, and it's ajar. Not taking any chances here. I crouch a bit, and walk down the stairs slowly, ears perked for danger. There's a larger, just as messy, room past the door. The smell's getting worse now. I'm about to gag, but I swallow the nausea when I catch the faint sound of crunching farther into the room.
Something's inside this room. I can hear a soft growl, the scrape of pointed things scratching at the floor, and the gristly, wet, rhythmic grind of jaws. I can't see a lamp, but there's a lot of light coming from the far side of the room. There's orange light streaming from an open door as well as some broken windows. Not the orange of a setting sun, though, too much flickering. Street lights. I don't like the idea of wandering anywhere at night, but staying in this wrecked, empty clinic wasn't much of an option. Maybe I can get my bearings once I see what this place was. Or I'll encounter somepony who can help.
One problem, though. Both the source of the horrible stench of blood, and the disgusting slurping noises, are coming from somewhere near the door I need to reach. Whatever the thing that's sharing this room with me, I don't want to meet.
Fortunately, this must be where patients were attended to before the doctor could deal with them. There's a lot of examination tables scattered around, many rusted with disuse. Old syringes and scalpels lie across a few of them. How odd, this room shows more signs of disuse than the room I was in. Still, I can use this to my advantage. I crouch even lower, making sure I'm hidden by these tables. Now, I just need to stay hidden, and skirt around whatever blood-soaked...thing in here.
I inch through slowly, keeping my breath shallow and steady both to avoid being heard by whatever's making those sounds and because the stink of blood's making my head spin. It's bound to hear me if I vomit. A drop of sweat trickles from my brow, and soaks into my collar. Damn, can't get some in my eyes right now! I lift a hoof to wipe off the still forming seat on my forelocks.
My hoof nudges the table I'm hiding behind, and a light, metallic bang of follows.
The slurping stops at once. So does my breathing, and any attempt to move onward. A faint, dry growl comes from that foul corner of the room, along with more scraping against the floor. I close my eyes, willing my myself desperately to have less presence. My heart's hammering in my ears. That's it, that thing's going to find me through the noise my infernal heart's making. Another growl, a less interested one I think. It takes me some effort not to sigh with relief when a gristly crunch signals the return to more slurping and chewing. I gather my courage, and inch forward again. Just a little more left. A nightly breeze from the open door ruffles my mane and coat; a promise of escape from this predicament.
My head's already out the door when something freezes me in place. I have to see. What is that thing behind me? Some kind of large animal? I grit my teeth and turn around. Just a quick look. I step behind another examination table. There's blood streaked all over the floor boards, crimson paw prints bigger than my hooves, and deep gouges made by large claws; all signs that I should really go. This thing not only ate flesh, it was enormous. Still, I peek over the table, just one glance, just one look at this thing...
I fight the urge to gasp. I expected a monster, true, but the twigs and leaves sticking out of this thing's back catch me by surprise. It is huge, probably three times the size of a stallion. It's hunched over its vile meal, resting on its gangly...woody--? I squint and wish that the street lights behind me were brighter. The thing had...bark instead of fur. Its limbs were disproportionately big for the rest of its body. Its front limbs were gouging out chunks of meat and stuffing its wolf-like muzzle. Blood and strips of gore drip to the floor with each snap of its jaws.
It was...some kind of plant-beast? Whatever it truly was, the danger's clearer than ever. Its meal, despite being more than half eaten is still recognizably a pony. I note the tattered remains of a long, white lab coat near the dead pony. If this is a clinic, here must be the doctor.
Time to go. The creature's almost finished, and I can't be sure if it will be satisfied with one pony. I sneak back to the exit, no mishaps this time, and hurry away.
I'm barely a few feet from that horror when a bigger dilemma looms before me. This...this city. Not an inch of it even rings familiar. Ominous, iron gates greet me with a slow screech of its rusty hinges as the nighly breeze keeps blowing. I was only partly right about the street lights providing the only illumination. Despite the lack of any moon in the night sky, this city glowed like a fire-lit dusk. Bonfires blazed at the distance, so many that I have to wonder if the city itself was on fire. Maybe I'm wrong about there being no moon around. The sky's so obscured by all the smoke, I can't see any stars.
I walk past the iron gate, still trying to be as silent as possible. There's an eerie grandeur to this city. It's all pointed rooftops, iron fencing with sharpened tops, and gray stonework. The enormous bridge at the distance holds my attention. It spans across a deep chasm, where more...city lay, and ended before a gigantic gate. I have to focus on the here and now, though. I appear to be on a narrow sidestreet flanked by imposing stone houses. Doors closed and reinforced by the looks of them, windows shut with iron bars over them. Not exactly a welcoming sight. Then again, that plant-beast I just left might be a common problem, no wonder ponies had secured their homes so tightly.
The shuffle of hooves heading towards my direction halts any further musing on my part. Finally, other ponies! A trio of lights, likely from torches, make their way towards me. I meet them halfway. Not to eager now, I might startle them into attacking.
"Hello?" I call out to them. "Can you help me? I've lost my way, and there's--"
The words catch in my throat when I get a better look at these three. I may have been too rash in assuming these were ponies, though they do resemble two stallions, and a mare. Their legs are unusually long, giving them this strange loping gait I wouldn't associate with ponies. Their manes are disheveled, and their clothes tattered. It's their faces though. Their eyes are wild with fear, almost feral by the way they glare and glance. More than that, it's the twigs and leaves sprouting from their muzzles and cheeks. At first glance, it just looks like they went through some shrubbery, and had some plants get stuck on them. But, no, I can see those things growing out of them. They stare at me for a while, like they have no idea what I am.
"B-b-beast!" the mare finally cries out. She's the least plant-like of the three, though her coat is a shade of light green. Only a few leaves mar her curly yellow mane. She makes up for it, however, by having the most deformed legs. She towers over her two companions through spindly, emaciated legs. It's a wonder that she could even carry her weight. As with the other two, her torch is attached to a special holder built into the harness she has over her coat.
The two stallions look at me as if to confirm, then snarl. One if them is so transformed that I can barely tell his face from the mass of woody growths that his beard had taken the form of. He's the bigger of the two, and has an old cleaver clamped between his elongated jaws.
The smaller stallion had his ears turned into leafy branches. He's armed with a pitchfork that's strapped to his side, so his mouth is free to talk. "Aye!" he says. "Die, you foul beast!"
I hold out my front hooves before me to show I mean no harm, backing away in the process. "Hold on," I say. "I'm not a beast. If you're looking for beasts, there's one hiding there!" I point to the clinic I just left.
The smaller stallion jabs me with his pitchfork for my troubles.
I barely have the time to turn aside. The rusty prongs catch my overcoat as they go past, ripping the worn cloth, and gashing my chest. The bigger stallion's lunging at me with his cleaver already. The mare reaches for something, but I don't stick around to find out.
My hooves clatter clumsily on the stone pavement as I swiftly spin around to run. The cleaver's tip whistles just past my tail, while blood trickles from my chest wound, and starts soaking my shirt. Wonderful, I might have been better of with the monster in the clinic.
"Hunt it down!" the mare screeches. "Cleanse Ponyville!"
At least I have a name to put to this place. A brick flies over my head, and crashes just a foot away. "I'm not a beast!" I yell. A trio of angry snarls answer me. They have weeds growing out of them, and they think I'm the beast?
The sidestreet splits into several paths. Fortunately, that means I have a multitude of ways to evade these madponies. Unfortunately, that also means this city is likely built like a maze. A few turns and I'm hopelessly lost. Then again, I'm lost to begin with. I pick a path that sort of looks like it wont lead to a dead end.
The shouts aren't particularly close behind me. I'm banking on my pursuers being hampered by their deformities. Those twisted, emaciated, far too long legs must be difficult to maneuver. I don't know how flexible part-wood flesh is, but it must be a hindrance.
I'm right as it turns out. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals them cursing and struggling to keep up. The pitchfork snags against a sharp corner I just took, forcing the stallion to the ground. The other stallion trips over him in a tumble of snarling, yelling ponies. The mare has enough presence of mind to leap over the mess.
I duck into another sharp corner, then kick a garbage bin over to its side as I pass. There's a coffin nearby, and, for a moment, I think about pushing it over as well. No, the thick chains wrapped around it would be heavy enough. The coffin itself looks metal, and big enough to accomodate even a hefty stallion. Trying to move it would take too much. I pass another coffin just like the first...then another. Hold on...am I passing through some kind of funeral parlor? And these chains...these ponies either really din't want something stealing their dead, or they're afraid that their dead might break out.
"Hssst!"
That sharp sound comes from one of the many barred windows I pass. I slow down briefly. I can't hear the three chasing me. Maybe I lost them already. "Who's there?" I ask.
A husky, gravelly voice answers me from a nearby window. "If you keep going that way, you'll run into the main street. They're gathered there right now." A series of hacking coughs follows. I cringe inwardly as it goes on for nearly a minute. It sounds like he's about to hack up a lung.
I walk over to the window. It looks like my pursuers had given up. Past the bars is a small room lit by a lone lamp. The air wafting from the place is thick with the heavy fragrance of some kind of incense. There's a bed by the window. The sheets are stained with blood and what looks like dried, yellowish-green phlegm.
"Hey," the bed's occupant says. He turns out to be a griffon, an emaciated one. I frown and tilt my head at his condition. Dark grey feathers lie scattered across his bed and the floor. There's blood around his beak, likely his after that fit. He puts on a wan smile before continuing. "Name's Gilbert. Glad to see a pony with some sense."
"I'm glad to find anything with sense," I reply. "Who...what are those creatures?" I ask. "They look like ponies, but--"
"They are," Gilbert says. "Well...in a way." He squints at me. "You're not from around here, I take it?"
I shake my head. I might be, but, without my memories, I may as well be not.
"You picked a bad time to visit Ponyville then," Gilbert says. "Not that there's an actual good time to visit. Ponyville's got a peculiar way of welcoming guests." His wan smile fades into a grim mien as he comes closer to the bars. He's got that sickly sweet smell of something dying of disease. Up close, the cracked skin around his bloodshot eyes is hard to miss, so is the orange tint around his flaking, cracked beak. "Whatever you're looking for here, stranger, it's not worth it. I'd plan a swift exit out of here if I were you."
"I would if that was an option," I answer. I barely have an idea where "here" is let alone an idea how to get out.
"I see," Gilbert says. He's interrupted by another fit of coughing. I step back instinctively while he reaches for a bloody handkerchief. "Good luck then. The Hunt is on tonight. Stay clear of the larger streets. Don't expect anyone to open their doors for you either."
"What can you tell me about the Magical Mystery Cure?" I blurt out. He's as surprised as I am by the sudden question. The Magical Mystery Cure is the only thing that resonates with my memory, I have to pursue it as my only lead.
"Magical Mystery Cure?" he asks. It's like he's tasting the word first. "I've heard some ponies mention it. Never went further than that. If you're looking for cures, you need to get to the Church of Harmony. They control all of Ponyville's remedies."
"Haven't you tried getting some of those remedies?" I ask.
"It's not for me," he says. "I was fortunate enough to get more time thanks to some of their cures, but my times up, I'm afraid. At least I'm not turning into a plant-beast. You might fare better. They won't say it, but I suspect that their best cures only work for ponies. Now, if really want to get at this cure, you have to cross the Great Bridge into the Harmony District."
Harmony District, now there's a fluffy name, certainly a sharp contrast to the dark atmosphere around here. The Great Bridge has to be that one in the distance. There certainly is no bridge greater. The problem now was getting to it. That leads me to the next thing.
"This city's pretty big for a place called "Ponyville"," I remark.
"It used to be a village, I'm told," Gilbert says. "But a village doesn't get to stay one when Equestria's greatest princess decides to live there. Ponies kept coming to see and stay around Princess Twilight Sparkle, so Ponyville kept growing. At some point it subsumed Canterlot, and became this land's capital."
Another familiar thing all of a sudden. Now, I had a thing and a pony to find. A princess too. "Thanks," I say. I want so much for him to accompany me. He's the only helpful anything in this haze of danger and questions. Of course, he can't. He looks so sickly, he might die just trying to leave his house. For his part, Gilbert merely nods and tries to settle back to his bed. "I should thank you," he says. "Now, I can be useful to someone before the end."
I'm about to say farewell when the hue and cry of ponies at a distance freezes me in place.
"Beast!" a mare yells. "Kill the foul beast!"
Gilbert nods me on. He doesn't seem too concerned about his own welfare. Being almost dead does that, I suppose. More cries come from the distance. Damn, it's not the three from earlier. This sounds like a larger group.
Two things concern me now: getting away from these crazed ponies, and making sure I'm running towards the Great Bridge. The mob is starting to howl in a frenzy now. How odd, they're still far enough not to be in my sight, but they already sound like they spotted prey. After a quick glance towards the Great Bridge, I start running.
"Away!" a stallion yells. "Away! Away!"
A scream comes from that direction, and I stop. That was a dying scream. Nopony's still showed up to chase me. A second scream follows. A third one starts, but something cuts it off.
I have to look. They were mobbing somepony else. If I can help this one out, I'd better my own chances. I pass by Gilbert's house again, and the noises grow louder; angry grunts, metal striking stone, cries of pain, and the sick crunch of metal crushing flesh and bone. Then an explosion. I stop again. That's a gunshot, the low boom of a blunderbuss discharging. If it's one of the crazed ponies who had that thing, I can't show myself.
The fighting sounds stop with one more gunshot.
My heart's racing again. One side's finished. I pray more than ever that it's the sane pony the mob was chasing. Morbid curiosity insists that I look. Was I always this recklessly curious? Somepony's panting just around the corner, there's also the gentle scrapes of lead pellets being poured into a gun's muzzle. The air stinks of blood and gunpowder. No turning back now, I peek past the corner and hope for the best.
The ground is littered with bodies. Leaves and branches mix with puddles of blood and strewn pony limbs. In the middle of it all is a lone, grizzled stallion. It's hard to make out his face as it's covered by the wide brim of a rounded, black hat. I check the white beard on his chin; all hair, good. His mouth is clamped down hard on the handle of a large axe, the blade still dripping with blood. Strapped to the side of his harness is the blunderbuss I heard earlier.
My hoof scrapes against the floor. The faint sound's enough to catch his attention.
"More of you mindless foals," he mutters. His deep tone is full of gravel, but not because of disease. "You should have left beast-hunting to the experts."
He cocks his blunderbuss at me. It's the loud click of the wheel holster locking in place that jolts me to action. "Wait," I say. I hold out my front hooves in front of me. The last time, it earned me a stabbing. Hopefully, it won't merit a blast of metal pellets as well. "I'm not like these ponies. I'm not even Ponyvillian!"
He tilts his head slightly at this, then replaces the bloody axe on the other side of his harness. "Outsider," he says. He walks closer, and looks me over. "New hunter at that," he says. He's looking at my flank. Does he recognize the cutie mark? "What's your business in Ponyville, outsider?"
"I...I'm not sure," I say. "I'm looking for the Magical Mystery Cure."
He lets out a soft growl of a sigh. "You all are." He extends a front hoof. "You don't look blooded at all, new hunter, but I'll take any ally I can find. My name's Ghast Coin. You?"
"I don't remember."
Ghast Coin frowns. For a moment, I'm actually scared that he'll shoot me for not introducing myself. "That why you're looking for the Magical Mystery Cure?" he asks.
I shrug in response. "I can't remember a thing. All I know is that why I'm here has to do with that cure, and Princess Twilight Sparkle."
"Church of Harmony," Ghast Coin grunts. He points towards the Great Bridge. "I'm heading there too."
"Are you also looking for the Magical Mystery Cure?" I ask.
"No," Ghast Coin replies. "The Church needs to open its gates for the rest of Ponyville. This Hunt's different. Too many beasts this time. The usual methods won't be enough." He lets out another growling sigh. "I know the gatekeeper. Maybe I can get him to open up." He glances behind him. "I can't hunt straight if my wife and daughters are still in Central Ponyville. I need them safe in the Harmony District."
Relief fills my chest. Here's a competent fighter who's going to the same place I am. "We should go together then," I say. I hold my breath until I see him nod.
"We'll go together," Ghast Coin says. He stares at the Great Bridge for a moment. "You should brace yourself. This looks to be a long night."
As if to answer that, a long, piercing howl from the bridge fills the air.
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I have been waiting for this since this game came out!
i.imgur.com/vwMin.gif
>Mfw Visiden Visidain writes a Bloodborne crossover
This might end up being a +100000 word story.
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This got me thinking of who would be who:
Applejack would be Father Gascoigne, the loving family man who lost himself to his work and went mad.
Twilight would be Gehrman, The First Hunter.
Pinkie Pie, obviously, would be Micolash, Host of The Nightmare. Always laughing and playing chase.
Fluttershy would be Vicar Amelia, the tragic cleric who was undone.
Rainbow Dash would be Alfred, fiercely loyal to her master, Spitfire... Martyr Logarious.
Rarity... hmm, Witch of Hemwick Charnel Lane?
Luna, again obviously, would be the Moon Presence.
And I think Celestia would be Queen Pthumeru.
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Really, Jake? You're going to equate my best pony with a screaming hag and one of the easiest bosses in the game? Rarity may appreciate a little avant garde in one's fashion choices, but she's bound to find covering yourself with freshly plucked eyeballs to be tacky
Ghast Coin should be a dead giveaway for another boss. The Mane 6 will show up here, but they'll be higher up the hierarchy so to speak.
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Hey, it could be worse. I could have made her The One Reborn.
Okay then. Who would you cast her as?
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Only the most beautiful and elegant boss in the game is fit to be Rarity.
Ebrietas, Daughter of the Cosmos.
Seriously, though. I obviously won't spoil my casting.
This is really interesting. I've never played Bloodborne, though what I've heard makes it sound like it's one of those games that are pretty tough.
I like your decision to use first person present in this, it really has that sense of urgency to it. Plus, no tense mixups that I saw, which is pretty impressive.
Gah! Why did I have to go and start writing my own Bloodborne fanfic before this came out? Now I'm gonna have to finish the stupid thing before I can read this one! (By the way, very, very happy to see you writing this. You're probably one of the best dark fiction authors to take on this crossover.)
I pretty psyched about this. Honestly Visiden Visidain is the only person I would trust with a Bloodborne crossover.
Hopefully our hero stumbles upon some of the Powder Kegs' inventions. They always made the most fun toys XP
Are you making this your own story Visiden, or is it just straight up ponified Bloodborne? Because while I love your writing, I'd rather not spoil myself since I'm meaning to get around to playing Bloodborne eventually. (As soon as I get a PS4)
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Great liberties will be taken with Bloodborne's storyline as with MLP.
6432588 Okay, let me rephrase that, will I be spoiled on the various twists and lore of Bloodborne?
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To a degree. I'll avoid simply ponifying Bloodborne as much as I can, but I can't promise a completely spoiler-free fic when it's a crossover.
6432794 Fair enough, I'll take the leap and hope my future Bloodborne experience isn't too ruined.
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Honestly? I've been thinking, and she'd probably be a good pick for Eileen the Crow. Elegant, deadly, and generous to do the job that no one else wants to do: a hoonter of hoonters.
And I just giggled uncontrollably over imagining Maud as the Doll.
Please tell me this is something you intend on finishing. I know you have other stories in progress, but this has the makings of the next Fallout Equestria. Not popularity, since that particular lightning strike of chance won't happen ever again, but in terms of a grim, action packed roller coaster faithful to the source material.
Can't wait to see how you handle this.
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No pressure, right?
I do intend to finish. Upheaval chapter first, then the next one for this.
Kind of worried you were just doing Bloodborne with a pony skin at the start there but I liked the new twists. Like the werewolf being a timberwolf (at least I'm assuming so) though Gilbert should have given the good hunter the flamethrower, unless he'll come back later.
So Ponyville is the capital of Equestria here, that's interesting but did the populace just switch loyalties from Celestia to Twilight or did the other princesses step down for whatever reason?
Had to laugh a bit when I saw Ghast Coin's name. Hope the presence of company helps prevent him from meeting the same fate as his game counterpart but I sadly doubt it. More immediately I wonder how and what weapon the Good Hunter will get, is the hunter's dream a thing in this?