Prologue scraps · 9:19pm Nov 27th, 2013
Because it started to get off topic, I was forced to cut off the latter half of my prologue for The Monster that is Me. I couldn't bring myself to delete it since it's still the way that I picture the story going after Midnight meets Greyscale. However, it detracted from where the story was going way too much for me to put it anywhere in the story itself.
for now, it'll just stay here to rot I suppose.
When I blearily reopened my eyes, I found myself completely surrounded by an alien climate. They were all things found in an everyday home, but I couldn't know that. I lay in a bed, the covers tightly wrapped around my body.
The room was quite bare with the exception of end tables and lamps, along with a lone bookcase in the corner that was filled with yellowed books.
At first, I thought I was in some sort of pony prison until I noticed the slightly ajar door. Rolling myself out of the bed, I fell bodily to the ground, my limbs hammering cringe worthy spikes deep into my brain.
I stifled a whimper as I was reminded of all the injuries I had sustained the... day before? How long was I out?
Wrapped tightly around my right forelimb was a knot of white bandages, stained lightly by my blood. Struggling to my hooves, I found more bandages haphazardly wrapped all around my barrel.
What is this? I tugged lightly at the bandage around my leg, biting my lip to keep myself from crying out. Is it... medicine? I knew nothing about doctors, but they used medicine to make ponies better. Did that pony... give me medicine?
I limped to the door, nudging it open gently. I was released into a hallway lined with framed stills of ponies. Most were photographs, but several were paintings of increasing quality. Several other doors lined the hallway, but each was shut solidly with my gentle nudging yielding no results. The end of the hallway morphed into a descending set of stairs, so with nowhere else to go, I followed them down into a large, open room lined with canvases in varying stages of completeness. Elegant, sophisticated ponies sat beside decadent monochromatic fruit. Landscapes of sweeping orange orchards contrasted with bleak cityscapes that made me shiver with resurfacing memories.
"You're awake!"
I jumped at the voice as a familiar grey pony entered the room from a wide archway. She was in much the same condition as the last time I saw her, though now I was in a better state mentally to appreciate just how grey she was. Her coat was a gleaming light silver, eyes a powerful piercing storm. Her mane and tail shifted from white on one side to black on the other, five shades of grey smoothing the transition between the two with her horn set evenly in the middle. Even her cutie mark, a painter's palette, was completely grey. She seemed a far cry from all those colorful ponies out there.
But still, her smile showed pearly whites, and even as she spoke, I could see the greyness of her tongue. I wondered briefly if her insides were grey, but I completely dismissed the notion. Such was not a thing to think of about the pony who'd seen fit to spare my sorry life.
"What's wrong?" She asked. "Cat got your tongue?"
My confusion showed on my face. "Cat?"
The unicorn's smile didn't waver, even as she retreated back the way she came. "Relax, it's just an expression." She called out behind her. Cautiously, I approached the archway that opened up into a tiled, sterile room whose cleanliness contrasted greatly with the previous room.
"Where am I?" I meekly asked.
"My house." She replied, standing on her hind legs before an oven. A large pot sat resolutely above an open, blue flame. "We're about four miles outside Fillydelphia." The pot released a sickly smell that tickled my nose. Such a thing would never register as food to me. "The name's Grayscale, by the way."
I nodded, cautiously approaching her from behind curiously. Inside the pot was a bubbling yellow liquid with chunky bits of various colors stirred in. I cringed at the sight.
"Usually when somepony introduces herself, the gesture is returned." Grayscale mentioned.
"Um..." I looked at her, unsure. "My name is Niphi."
"Great to meet you, Niphi."
"Why did you help me?"
"What do you mean why?" Grayscale looked at me oddly. "You needed help, never mind how you look."
Didn't she know what I'd been a part of? I couldn't imagine that she'd been blind to all the chaos a mere four miles away. "Aren't you afraid of me?"
She looked at me, amused. "What's to be afraid of? You obviously don't want to hurt me or you would've tried already." She returned to the pot of mushy liquid, horn glowing silver as she stirred with a wooden ladle. "Of course, you could just be biding your time until you can replace me more effectively. I don't judge."
She knew what I was. I retreated a few steps, needing some space to think. How could she shelter me like this if she knew what I was? I quickly deduced that I had to be in the middle of some sort of trap. It simply was not feasible that a pony would be... nice. Not to me.
"Soup's almost done." Grayscale said to me. "Bathroom's through that door. Why don't you go wash up before we eat?"
"Y-yeah." I agreed absent-mindedly. Really I was only agreeing to keep her placated. I wanted to stay on her good side until I figured out how to get out of her house. I turned to where she pointed me, entering a small room bathroom whose most intriguing aspect was that it had a window. Fiddling with it, I quickly figured out how to raise it only to find a screen preventing me from squeezing my battered body through.
"This has to be a prison." I muttered under my breath, looking back at the kindhearted mare removing porcelain bowls from a cabinet. "A really odd prison."
When I returned to the kitchen, Greyscale was placing two steaming bowls down on opposite ends of a table, taking a seat.
"Tada!" She smiled. "Soup's on!"
"What's your game?" I asked harshly. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Grayscale’s smile fell. "Why shouldn't I be? You need help."
"No." I stood my ground. "I'm a changeling. We're not supposed to get along. At all."
"Well, we're going to." She snapped. "And I don't want to hear anymore about it. You're staying here until you're better. You got that?"
"You can't make me stay." I growled. I suppressed a yelp of pain as I flared my exhausted insectoid wings, turning it into a maddened growl.
"I'll do what I think is right." She didn't move. "You walk out my house right now and all those ponies who are too scared to realize how stupid they are will tear you to pieces."
That did make me stop and think for a second. "I'll avoid them." I reasoned.
Grayscale snorted. "And how will you do that? By fainting in front of them?"
My face got hot. "I can still fly."
"And many ponies can as well. In fact, some of the fastest animals in the world are pegasi."
"I'll..."
"Give it up." Grayscale half ordered, half pleaded. "I know that ponies might seem like the enemy, but what's the difference between here and out there? At least here you can rest."
"Why?" I conceded. "I don't understand why you'd do anything for me."
"Those are my reasons." She nodded to herself.
I realized that it wasn't going where it was supposed to go around here, so I stopped before I could sink any more time into it.
We don't care how far you sink.... We love it to whatever depth it goes.
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:D Thanks, but you have to admit it would've detracted from the story as it was. The time when Midnight was acclimating to equestrian society could make a story in and of itself, but there's no good way to fit it in with the rest of the story.
this was actually a nice extension.