Chapter 7 - Train
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Wheat Flour didn’t answer. We were walking, the four of us, to the train station. I was being led like a dog on a leash by Wheat Flour. It wasn’t personal; the cop had advised her to do that, to avoid panic from the general public. That was a good enough reason for me, however humiliating it was.
Whole Grain was demanding answers from her sister. “It’s not like we owe him anything!”
Again, no answer. Whole Grain tossed her hair back. “Okay, look. If he wanted to go to Canterlot so bad, why didn’t he just fly there?”
Both of them looked to me, and I looked to my back. My wings had been tightly secured by the cop with the measuring tape, despite my promise that I wouldn’t use them. I shrugged. “I can’t fly.”
“You have wings,” Captain Obv- Whole Grain pointed out. “Why haven’t you used them before?”
“I didn’t – and still don’t – know how to use them,” I explained before peeking across my shoulder. Maybe it was my imagination, but I had the feeling we were being followed.
Whole Grain rolled her eyes. “Point is, sis, he’d be in Canterlot by now, if he was so set on going.”
“It won’t take long. We’ll be to Canterlot and back before supper,” Wheat Flour assured.
Her sister gaped. “You’re not going with him, are you?”
“Somepony has to,” she replied.
“Why not the police? Isn’t it part of their job to escort criminals?”
“To jail, yes. We can’t expect the police to go out of their way like this.”
We arrived at the train station, and Aunt Millie held the door open for us as we filed inside. Whole Grain wouldn’t let up. “Don’t you realize how far out of your way this is? This isn’t your decision to make!”
Wheat Flour sighed. “It isn’t yours, either.”
At that instant, Aunt Millie walked up between them to the counter, tossing the ticket lady a handful of bits. “Three tickets, please.”
We all halted and looked at her in shock. Whole Grain spoke up first. “Auntie, you’re not going, are you?”
She shook her head and smiled. “No, you are! You bein’ all so up and worried about your sister, you might as well go with her!”
Whole Grain’s mouth hung open, as she watched the ticket lady hand her aunt three tickets. “B- but… That’s not the point! The point is-”
“That you see to it that Swissy gets to Canterlot,” Millie corrected. “You and I both know how important family is.”
“But, his family isn’t… He’s from a hive!”
I felt like I had to correct that. “Again, Whole Grain, you’re going to have to-”
“I didn’t say you could speak, doofus,” she snapped.
“Grain, dear.” Millie handed me a ticket. “You can at least show a little respect.”
“Ugh, Auntie…”
Millie gave a ticket to Wheat Flour, and offered one to her sister. “Are you going, or not?”
Whole Grain sighed, and accepted the ticket from Aunt Millie. “Yes, but only for you two,” she said to her sister and aunt.
We stuck with a train car near the back, and Whole Grain picked a cabin with a north-facing window. Aunt Millie spotted us, and waved us goodbye as the train pulled out. We waved back, and watched her and the station as they became smaller in the distance.
I leaned back onto the plush bench in our compartment. Directly across from me were Whole Grain and Wheat Flour. The latter was looking out the window, and the former was looking at me with her arms crossed. With that, and already somewhat knowing both of them, conversation probably wasn’t going to happen.
That’s when I realized who she was like: my roommate’s ex-girlfriend. Every time she visited, she always had her arms crossed like that. My roommate, Larry, in his constant complaining, would always talk about her being stubborn, cryptic, disagreeable… Wow, the likeness is scary. Anyway, I asked him why he didn’t just dump her. He said… Well, let’s just say he said she bakes a good batch of cookies.
It was typical for Larry. He never took anything seriously. I’d always be the one to clean up after us in our apartment. He’d never vacuum, but he always had the time; he’d sit in the living room and watch TV all day instead. Even worse, he’d pull pranks on me. It wasn’t funny the first time or the times thereafter. There’s a reason I moved to a house and lived on my own.
I looked out the window and watched Buckwheat Range pass by, with its giant field of wheat. It felt kind of refreshing to be a little further along in my journey. Soon, I’d be in my own bed. My soft, dry, and - above all - insect-free bed.
At that point, I noticed how soft the chair was, and how tired I actually felt. And, conveniently, I wasn’t sharing the bench seat with anyone. I lay down, turning away from the pair, and got comfortable. I could catch a quick nap, make up for a little lost sleep…
…And be awoken by a loud knocking. I got up and looked around. The seat across from me was empty. It could’ve just been the wheat sisters coming back in, but I couldn’t trust my luck. In case it might not have been them, I changed to my Gouda persona. As long as he hadn’t boarded the train, I would be safe in his form.
I opened the door to see the conductor. He must have been making the ticket-checking rounds. “One second,” I told him, as I looked around for the place I had put my ticket. Then, I realized I had put it in my arm. This was definitely going to be awkward…
I turned to the conductor. “Could you excuse me?
“What for?” he asked.
“Heh, um, my friend has my ticket.”
“Oh, your ticket… that won’t be necessary.”
He stepped to the side, making room for… Green Curls? What was he doing there? My heartbeat accelerated as they invited themselves in and closed the door behind them. I backed into the window. “What’s going on?”
A green flash engulfed the conductor, and a changeling appeared in his place. Green Curls followed the conductor’s actions to appear as his clone. They were both looking at me quite menacingly.
“6 F 25,” the former conductor stated.
Shoot. “Um, no, my name is Gouda. What’s going on?”
“If you tell the truth now, your punishment will be less severe,” he said with a leer.
I returned his stare, feigning confidence. “Like I said, I’m Gouda. Now, what’s this all about?”
No response. Instead, his horn lit up in an aura of green. A laser beam shot out of it, right into my eyes. Instinctively, I covered my face with my arms to shield myself from it. A tingling sensation ran through me, and, when it stopped, I opened my eyes. He was still looking at-
Oh. I could see him.
He had turned me back into a changeling. Well, if only I had known that they had known that trick. I should’ve braved the hive a little longer.
Weaseling my way out of that situation would be tough, but I tried it anyway. My eyes darted around – and landed on the ticket in my arm. I bit it and offered it to him. “I found my ticket,” I said.
He grinned. “More severe it is, then.”
o o o
It was like any other night: The streets were dark and empty, with cars going back and forth, either into the downtown area or out. I was walking, alone, in the “out” direction. I had just gotten off of work at around ten o’clock, and was on my way to my apartment. Winter was approaching, and it was at that point in the fall when there wasn’t any snow on the ground, yet I could see my breath.
I turned down the street where the apartment complex was. Just five more blocks, and I would’ve been back in my room and asleep soon thereafter.
As I was walking, I heard a shuffling noise and voices coming from down one of the alleyways. When I looked down it, there was a group of people there. Two men were standing over another man, who was covering his head with his hands.
I stopped and listened. “Please,” the man on the ground pleaded. “You have my money, just leave me alone.”
The man with a wallet in his hand looked around and spotted me. Panicking, I bolted down the street, all five blocks, until I reached the apartment building. I ran up the three flights of stairs and got inside as quickly as I could, locking the door behind me. It was then I took a moment to catch my breath.
Larry, who had been sleeping, turned the light on and startled me. “Hey, are you alright? What happened?” he asked.
“I, uh…” I wasn’t sure what to say. I just watched a guy get mugged and did nothing? Larry would think I was a wimp. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He shrugged and went back to bed.
o o o
That day, I was scared for my life. Not for his life, but my own. Looking back on it, I could have at least called the police, but I was more concerned about my safety than his. Now, I was in that man’s shoes, and no one was there to help me. I was alone.
They had dragged me to a kitchen car, which was conveniently located only one car over. To paraphrase, they had let me know what was what. After a little bit, one of them held me down, while the other took a break.
I groaned from the pain. This had to stop; I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. “Please, stop.”
He snickered. “But, why, when I’m enjoying myself so much?”
That’s when I got mad, on top of being scared. “You… you’re both monsters! Barbaric, senseless monsters!”
“That’s not how you speak to Sergeant, chump!” the one holding me down scolded.
Oh, so that was the sergeant-
Did he- Wow. Out of all the… “6 F 26?”
“Yeah, it’s me, genius.” He shook his head. “Trying to leave the hive was a bad idea.”
“I don’t belong there, though!” I insisted as I squirmed under 6 F 26’s grasp. Besides, I really hated that hive. They all reminded me of bees.
Sergeant disagreed. “I don’t think you understand entirely, kid. We stick with our own kind. You got a taste of what they think of us at the wedding. Heck, what was that tied around your wings?” He motioned to the measuring tape, which he had untied and tossed to the side before our bonding session.
“And I don’t think you understand,” I insisted. “I’m not your kind. I’m not one of you!”
The sergeant walked over to the connecting door, peeking out of the window. He chuckled. “Kid, you had me fooled. You sure look like it.”
I let my head back onto the ground, closing my eyes. My right arm felt funny. “Why? Why waste your time with one changeling, out of the hundreds of the hive?”
“Who in the whole hive has ever tried escaping, chump?” 6 F 26 asked. As I opened my mouth, he put his hand over it. “Don’t answer. That was rhetorical.”
“Your friend has a point,” added Sergeant. “We’ve never had an incident like this. Late for curfew, occasionally. But never more than an hour or two.” He leaned in close, squinting. “You know how many hours you’re over?”
It wasn’t the best time for a math question. “More than two?”
“Enough to procure months in the detention chamber. You wouldn’t survive past two weeks in there, however, so the queen decided to reduce your sentence and make your penalty… more memorable.”
I ran my tongue around my teeth, checking for any absentees. A couple were bent in a little, and one of my fangs felt shorter than usual. After mourning the culmination of hard work by my braces, I gave some thought to the situation. One big question in particular was nagging at the back of my mind.
“But, again, why? Why is my leaving so terrible for you?” I inquired. “I’m sure you can afford one less changeling in your army.”
The sergeant was looking through the drawers of the kitchen. “Can we, kid?” He picked out a rolling pin and tossed it around in his hoof.
“Chew on this little scenario,” he continued sardonically. “We let one deadbeat like you escape. Your buddy 26 notices the empty spot next to him before morning runs. He thinks to himself, ‘Gee, they let him off easy.’ He decides, that day, to screw the rules. Takes off, just like you. I imagine you realize where this is going. Pretty soon, not one of you follows the rules: rules which were put in place to protect us.”
He put the rolling pin back, pulling out a frying pan. “We don’t care about you, kid. You were right; we might be better off without a reckless delinquent like you. Instead, you’re going to be our poster boy.” He grinned maliciously. “We’ve already planned a special cell for you in the new hive, right in the atrium. We’re even considering putting on a few… public demonstrations. That news of you escaping without consequence will be hushed right quick, and we’ll all be motivated again for tomorrow.”
No, that was not the future I wanted. Not one part of that sounded pleasant.
I looked at 6 F 26 and asked, “Surely, you’re not okay with this.”
He shrugged. “Rules are rules, chump.”
“Rules are rules?” I repeated. “Rules are rules?!” I couldn’t believe it. Some people… I lashed around under his grip. “Do you see what he’s doing to me? What do you think could happen to you?”
“Nothing. I’m not the one breaking rules,” he said. “Sucks to be you.”
The sergeant walked over, brandishing his weapon of choice. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. Tears welled up in my eyes. “Please, 6 F 26, you can’t just stand back and watch.” Not like I did.
“I have to.” 6 F 26 replied. “I’ve got a life. I’ve got protection. I’ve got all the food I’ll ever need. What do you have, chump?”
I winced, as the cast iron pan was raised into the air, eyeing its target. A fire lit up in the sergeant’s eyes. Maybe that was the reason I was here: karma. After years, my inaction for only one night had come back to bite me. This was what I deserved.
I had never felt so close to death as I did then. My mind was fully aware of my breathing, and I felt a cold sweat. I wasn’t ready to die. I wanted to run, to lock the door behind me and be safe. I didn’t want to be alone. I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst.
Instead of a smack, however, I heard a door handle. Carefully, I opened my eyes, and noticed the arrival of… the wheat sisters.
I had friends.
Whole Grain launched herself at the one holding the frying pan. I struggled to free myself from 6 F 26’s grasp. I blurted, “Wheat Flour! There’s a rolling pin in the drawer!”
She didn’t sprint to it, like I half expected. Instead, she stood back, looking nervously between me and her sister. Speaking of which, Whole Grain was in the middle of a tussle with the sergeant.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this!” she shouted gleefully.
I stopped struggling, interested in listening. How could those two have known each other?
“That kick I gave you before,” she continued between blows, “was a just a taste of what I think of you!”
I looked at Wheat Flour, and she looked back. At that moment, I think we both realized what was happening.
At every swing she dodged, she grinned. “You have no idea… how good this feels! It’s as if you went out of your way… to make my life harder! And now…” I could barely hear her whisper into his ear: “…it’s my turn.”
At that point, part of me was glad she was taking out her anger on someone else. The other, bigger part was deathly afraid of what she’d do to me once she realized which one I actually was.
Sergeant either was unconscious or didn’t want to move, but seemingly defeated either way. Whole Grain was standing over him, panting. I had an idea. “Um… Ms. Pony?”
She whipped her head at us. “What?!”
With my eyes, I indicated to the one pinning me down. “This one’s your boyfriend.”
Her face lit up like a fire truck.
She dragged him off of me and began to work her magic. I tried to stand up, but my right arm zinged with pain, and I collapsed on it. Wheat Flour came over and helped me back to my feet. I had to hold my arm in the air, like a limping dog.
Whole Grain had finished, and piled 6 F 26 on top of the sergeant. Then, she noticed Wheat Flour helping me, and paused to think. She thought aloud, “Are you kidding me? It was you the whole time?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Could you tie them up with that tape in the corner, please?”
She shook her head, notably furious. “I’d punch you so hard if you weren’t standing next to my sister.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I said earnestly, wiping my face on my bony shoulder. The punching bag in me was worn out.
She obeyed, though, and propped my clones up back-to-back. With a pony’s dexterity that didn’t fail to impress me, she bound them with the tape. “Friends of yours?” she asked me.
The sergeant grunted as he came to. “I was about to ask the same thing.”
“‘Family,’” I replied, doing air quotes with my… hoof? I guess I could call it a hoof, since I was basically a horse. “We don’t get along well.”
“What do you expect us to do with these?” Whole Grain asked me. One was squirming, but they were well constrained by the knot.
I shrugged. “Police station. There’s one in Canterlot, right?”
“Yeah. Canterlot,” she grumbled.
Curious for an explanation, I looked to Wheat Flour. In a quiet voice, she said, “We passed Canterlot already.”
“What?” Why? “The train didn’t stop while I was asleep, did it?”
“No, it kept going,” Whole Grain growled. “We went up to talk to the conductor, but he said he got a ‘letter from the princess herself’ that the train couldn’t stop in Canterlot.”
“Why not?”
She advanced. “You think I didn’t ask? I told him to stop the train right now, but he said no, he had to keep going! And now, we’re well on our way to Manehattan. And the station closes after six, so we can’t go back home! And this is all your fault!” she emphasized with forceful jabs to my chest.
I didn’t respond at first, not willing to waste energy arguing with her. I hung my head. “I’m sorry.”
Her scowl unrelaxed, she sat down and looked out of the window at the forest rushing by. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything.”
I didn’t say anything for the rest of the way. I used to think I had problems, but I was starting to believe that I was one.
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i have read this story because of the word coffee in the description...i did not regret it
MOAR1
To be truthful I thought your story was going to fall in the same category as all the other ailed changeling stories. You have succeeded greatly
Some pony dislikes our protagonist less than she lets on... Or she just sucks at insults.
I get what you're saying, but it's a strange way to say it. Maybe write it as "...she said to the two ponies who weren't me." Or something like that where it's more clear that she's purposely leaving the protagonist out of her consideration.
Hmmm... Imminent invasion and those three are stuck in Manehattan. Getting home afterward is going to be fun! And I'm sure it's still all the protagonist's fault somehow.
2095796 Change made. Thank you very much for pointing that out. :)
Moar plz
Not sure if you're insinuating what I think you're insinuating. Going to assume you are, anyway.
Really good chapter. You're doing a good job with the first person perspective and including the protagonist's thoughts, but I feel that you could have written a bit more about what the other changelings were actually doing when they were beating him. I guess it was a bit dialogue-heavy, but that's probably just me.
2096856 To answer your first question, yep. ;)
And I totally get the whole dialogue-heavy thing. The problem in this chapter was that I wanted to be careful with how much violence I put in the story, without having to bump it up to a "Teen" rating. So, I kind of skimmed over those parts.
2097140
Ah, right.
That's understandable.
God WholeGrain is so oppressive. I would gladly kill her.
Enjoying the story so far. Added to Twilight's Library.
This story continues to deliver! MOAR!!!
Hmm.
I'm still loving this story, I've always liked changeling stories, and this is one of the better ones.
However, in the chapter I noticed a bit of redundancy in some of your descriptions. It's hard to describe, and I only notice it because I caught myself doing it while writing in the past, but things tend to settle into a pattern.
Action movement or otherwise
"text right after that says something similar"
Action movement or otherwise of other character
"text of what the other character says"
And then it just kind of repeats. It's not bad at all, and again, if I had not been doing it myself a few weeks ago, and studied really closely about how it was happening, i'd never notice it. It's hardly important in the grand scheme of things, but I always do try to point out something to improve the story in a comment, and well, this is it.
SPOILER< DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT READ STORY YET>
Edit: It's the worst here.
"I groaned from the pain. This had to stop; I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. “Please, stop.”
He snickered. “But, why, when I’m enjoying myself so much?”
That’s when I got mad, on top of being scared. “You… you’re both monsters! Barbaric, senseless monsters!”
The one holding me down corrected me. “That’s not how you speak to Sergeant, chump!”
Oh, so that was the sergeant-"
2100423 Ugh, how embarrassing. Here I thought I was doing well with variety and all that, and then... that section.
Thank you for pointing that out. I changed that section, but only slightly; I like how the first three lines are arranged. However, I shall keep my eye on that from now on. Thanks again. :)
Going to Canterlot? Nah~
Let's go to Manehattan instead~ :D
Lovely chapter. Looking forward for the next chapter~
Totally his fault that the princess decided ' Screw that train, nobody is coming to Canterlot today.'
5494413
I think it's more of her isolating Canterlot so that no changelings can enter or escape, and to make the changeling raids within the city easier.