Story Nr. 7 preview (Possessed Shining Armor story) · 1:03pm Nov 11th, 2016
Hello there. Here's a preview at the first chapter of story number 7. As I've mentioned before it takes place in the future. Keep in mind that this is unedited, and unpolished. It should give a general idea of the story, or at least a little of it.
The setting sun was beating down on the quiet town of appleloosa as its villagers buzzed about. Today had been a quiet day for the apple farming town. Usually there was some noise from somewhere around Equestria, whether it being monsters roaming about, princesses flying around, or simply the (those bull thingies) stampeding around the hot unwelcoming land. Despite being one of the smallest towns in Equestria, Appleloosa stood for most of the apple transportation and farming in all of Equestria. But that was not the only thing they were growing. Berries was also a thing they liked to grow, as the land was far more fertile than the eye might reveal. The underground was full of fresh water and there was always sun out, as it was almost exclusively an earth-pony town.
Laughing and cheerful talking could be heard as ponies began to find their respective ways home from work, some finding their way to the local bar to enjoy some freshly made cider.
When the streets finally cleared, a single old grey stallion looked across each sides of the Main Street which held most of the shops and houses of the town in two rows across from each other.
Seeing no one on the street, the stallion licked his dry lips. It's all or nothing now, he thought as he began walking as fast as his old brittle legs could take him, across the long street. He just had to get to the other side and he could sneak into the hotel from the back. Scanning his surroundings, he noticed stallions and mares having fun behind the windows of the candlelit homes, he especially saw a lot of fun being had as he turned his head to look into the bar behind him. Ponies were dancing in tables, drinking and laughing heartily.
The air itself seemed dry and wanting to push him back as a gentle cold breeze hit him, and it rattled through his being like an icy wind.
Shifting his attention back on the road, the old stallion saw that he had almost reached the middle of the street. It wouldn't be long now. As if his eyes were drawn towards it, the old stallion looked into shop where he saw a stallion and a mare looking at each other with what could only be described as shy but blossoming love. Eyes refusing to look away, the old stallion watched with longing as the two’s lips connected in a passionate kiss. Finally he managed to force his eyes away. It stung to look at.
His ears picking up a sound, the stallion looked up and his eyes focused on a small yellow house just outside of the street, near the train station. Inside he spotted a mother and daughter playing some game by the window, shifting their gazes towards the fields in the distance behind the old stallion and the town, from time to time. They barely noticed the old stallion, but for a moment, the old stallion questioned if they even could.
Night was falling fast upon the town. Usually, the shifting between night and day only took moments to complete, so things like the sunrise and sundown were relatively hard to enjoy as they passed to fast. In the time the old stallion had reached three quarters across the street, night and its moon had fallen in all of their glory, letting their soft light shower down upon the world, infinitely more kind than that of the sun’s. And with them came the encompassing shadows and the dark beings they brought with them, and an eery silence. Already, the once kind and dry landscape seemed foreign compared to moments ago. Old withered trees stood alone amongst the dry land outside the town, like scarecrows intent on keeping anyone or anything away. The rock formations in the distance stood tall, resembling giants looking with ever judging eyes upon the small town. In this land there were little to no birds or animals to make up for the absent noise of the day, instead everything had as if been laid to rest. All the noise that could be heard was from the ponies within the bar and in their homes. Inside the noise was great, but outside it was little more than whispers sometimes accompanied by a hollow and chilling wind.
Little to none of this touched the old stallion, his eyes were focused on the alleyway he was approaching. Only the wind seemed to force a chill through his spine, and he knew why, but he wanted to forget. Approaching the alley, he began to sweat cold as a sudden feeling of dread grew around the edges of his mind, and he knew, something was approaching.
“Ey, old gheezer, need any help?” A sudden voice called from behind.
The dread settled and a gulp forced itself down the old stallion’s throat. No, not now. Slowly, the old stallion turned his head and his grey eyes were met with the green ones of another stallion.
It was a somewhat tall muscular stallion with a bright yellow coat, amber colored mane, sporting himself a goatee and moustache in the color of his mane, wearing a cowboy hat and a brown vest.
“No thank you, young man, I’m fine,” the old stallion replied with a sheepish grin, turning back towards the road ahead and starting to walk even faster, but not fast enough. Behind him, the old stallion could hear the cheerful trotting of the newly arrived.
“Ah, don’t sweat it, ya old gheezer. That bags of yours look mighty heavy. Just let old Braeburn carry it.”
“NO!” The old stallion responded with his old hazy voice.
But the tone didn’t seem to faze Braeburn, instead give him a more sympathetic look in his eyes. Without asking or anything, Braeburn yanked the saddlebags off of the old Stallion’s back and onto his own. “Ya know, ya remind me of mah old man. He was also too proud ta ask for help in his old age. Good thing Ah was too stubborn to listen.”
A sigh escaped the old stallion as he wanted to protest, but he knew it was no use. Instead he kept his eyes on the road in front of him, avoiding the gaze of the middle aged stallion as they continued walking.
“So where are ya goin? Haven’t seen ya around before. You a tourist by any chance?”
“The hotel, and yes I’m a tourist,” the old stallion simply answered without looking at Braeburn.
“Great. Ever been to Aaaapleloosa! Before?”
At that, the old stallion stopped and looked up at Braeburn with a confused expression.
Braeburn responded with a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, that’s how I’ve been sayin it since Ah was just a wee colt.”
The confused look remained for a moment before the old stallion focused back on the road and began walking again. “Yes, I’ve been here before, a few years back,” he responded. As Braeburn trotted up closer again, a sudden feeling caught the old stallion again. Dread.
It is time, a sudden ragged voice called in his head.
No, not yet! The stallion called back at the voice.
“Ya know, it’s days like these that makes ya appreciate the life we have,” Braeburn suddenly said, looking around the landscape and casting his eyes to the stars and moon above. “It’s a simple life here, but not one Ah would trade for anythin in the world. You know what I’m talkin about, don’t ya? Ah bet you’ve seen some mighty fantastic things through ya life.”
“Yes I have,” the old stallion replied, barely registering Braeburn’s words. A tremendous pressure entered the old stallion’s mind and he felt compelled towards Braeburn, as if gravity had shifted and was now centered around him. Everything in the world around them seemed to dissolve into a black mass in the old stallion’s mind. He couldn’t remember anything anymore. Where he’d been, where he was going, where he was, nothing mattered but the pressure in his mind. Memories, opinions, morals, life, death, and emotion was nothing but smoke in his eyes, an annoyance serving only as a distraction from what was important. The pressure. It felt like a constant thumping headache resounding throughout his body, making it ache like his bones were breaking, as it threatened to draw him closer to Braeburn.
As they were about to enter the alley, Braeburn stopped and looked towards something.
Feeling compelled to do so, the old stallion looked up and followed Braeburn’s eyes, his own sight blacking out and coming back, each time like he was waking up from a deep sleep but at the same time eyes stinging like he hadn’t rested in years, and for every time, the pressure got stronger. The old stallion’s eyes widened as he recognised what Braeburn was looking towards. It was the yellow house from before. Inside, he could still see the mother and her filly, sitting at a table, the filly drawing with crayons. For a brief second, the black mass in the stallion’s mind took form once again into two familiar shapes before dispersing back into smoke.
“After I see to you, I have ta go celebrate mah little girl’s birthday.” He smiled warmly as he saw her inside the house, knowing that she most likely couldn’t see him in return. “Can hardly believe she turned seven t’day.”
Again, the old stallion forced his gaze away and began walking into the alleyway, where shadows clung to the sides of each building beside them like cobwebs, thick and all consuming. The trotting behind him indicated that Braeburn had followed.
Silence and a chilling wind followed them into the alley as Braeburn seemed completely consumed by the thought of his family.
“Anyways, why are we walkin behind the hotel? Wouldn’t it be easier ta just use da main entrance?”
“Not if you want to avoid other ponies.”
“Why would ya wanna do that? Everypony is so friendly here. It’s not like we’re in Trotts city.” The surprise and confusion in Braeburn’s voice was evident.
It was too much. He couldn’t take it anymore. Slowly, the old stallion fell to a stop and turned towards Braeburn with utter sadness in his eyes, blinking constantly with gritted teeth. A ragged breath escaped the old stallion, as he tried to hold it back, but he couldn’t. He never could.
There was shock and confusion in Braeburn’s face as he saw the drained color on the old stallion’s face. He had gone pale, the wrinkles in his face had been tripled in number, and he was shaking violently. “What’s wrong old timer?” There was genuine concern in Braeburn’s voice, and he stepped closer, bracing for the old stallion to fall on the ground or worse.
“I’m sorry.”
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The old stallion slammed the door shut behind him as he entered his hotel room, effectively cutting off the room from any outside source of light. It was a humble room, not very big, wooden floor and was only equipped with a single bed, a nightstand, a small window, a mirror, and a closet.
Leaning against the closed door, the old stallion attempted to slow his erratic breath, but he failed to do so. He felt as if his heart would jump out of his throat at any moment as sweat beat down his face. Across the room stood the tall oval mirror hung upon the small wall. He could faintly see his reflection, though the lack of light in the room made it difficult. Gulping, the old stallion went over to the mirror and began to stare intently at it until his eyes adjusted.
He clenched his teeth as he took off his saddlebags and got a good look over his body. Bloodstains were covering various areas of it and bandages had been put over his sides and neck. Carefully, he began unwrapping the bandages and threw them on the ground in a pile. Underneath each bandage were long gaping wounds from what might as well have been long claws, but as he unwrapped each of them, the wounds closed almost instantaneously. Yet he was still stained in blood, and it wasn’t his own. Sitting down on his haunches, the old stallion inspected the changes that had happened. Most of his wrinkles were gone, and he was no longer shaking. His coat had become a brighter shade of grey than it was before and there was an inkling of life in his eyes compared to the hollow expression they’d had before.
Calm yourself, a voice said within his head. This is not the time to go into shock.
At those words, the old stallion clenched his teeth even harder in anger at the cold tone of the voice.
“You will give me the time I need,” he snarled to his reflection in the mirror, staring into its eyes.
We can’t have this happen every time we need to replenish our strength. You’re wasting valuable time moping around.
“Then let it be wasted,” the old stallion spat, his voice having become more energised and was no longer ragged.
We wouldn’t even be in this situation if you had cared to listen to me.
“Yeah, like listening to you has ever been a good idea,” the old stallion rolled his eyes.
You’d be surprised.
“Yeah, I would.” Being done venting, the old stallion looked to the ground as the feeling of utter misery settled upon him. “Just… give me a minute.”
Silence followed as the stallion felt the voice in his head contemplate his request.
Very well.
The presence of the voice completely disappeared from the old stallion’s mind, and for a moment he breathed easy, feeling a little relaxed. This feeling disappeared as he looked back at the mirror and his eyes scanned the dark red stains on his coat, once again. With a pained mind, he reminisced.
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Red and blue light was filling the air as various medics and royal guards surged through the alley in a swift manner. Ponies were standing around the scene, murmuring in confusion around the area, held back by a secure line and royal guard ponies.
Against a wall, the old stallion sat with two medics trying to cauterise and bandage his wounds.
“You were lucky sir,” one of them said. “If the wounds had been any deeper you would probably have needed surgery. Now are you sure you don’t wanna come back to the hospital with us?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” the old stallion replied.
The two medics responded with a nod each as they finished their bandaging. “Okay,” said the other, taking a small green bottle out of her saddlebags. “Apply this to your wounds every day for the next three weeks and they should close naturally.”
“Thank you,” the old stallion replied in a ragged voice.
At that the two medics left to help the other medics still in the alley.
He could hear murmurs within the alley of confusion and disgust inside the alley. A single stallion even came out and emptied his stomach into a nearby trash can. Among the crowd of ponies standing in a half circle around the scene were some of the ponies he’d seen inside the bar, he even saw the couple that had been kissing, standing in the back.
“Make way!” A big royal guard earth-pony stallion bellowed as several guards and medics came out of the alley, carrying a white stretcher with a bandaged individual laying on it. The victim’s belly, sides, legs, back and even parts of his face was covered in white bandages, swiftly turning red. Anyone that didn’t personally know the victim would most likely not recognise him, but the one’s that knew him…
A gasp could be heard among the crowd and the old stallion turned his head towards them again, and his heart sank. It was the mare from the yellow house and her filly. Tears was starting to form in the mare’s eyes as the realisation probably dawned on her. What was even more heartbreaking was the reaction of the filly. The filly didn’t hesitate to run under the secure line secured by guards, screaming and crying for her daddy, but was quickly held back by the guards. Yet it didn’t stop the screams and tears.
Silence had dawned on the crowd as they all listened to the filly’s cries, it being the only thing that could be heard in the street.
Swiftly the medics and the victim was put into a long red cart with eight stallions standing ready to run as fast as they could when the order was given.
A yell was given from the big guard and the cart drove off.
From his position, the old stallion saw the big guard walk over to the crying mare and the child that had been brought to her and with a solemn look gave them Braeburn’s bloodstained cowboy hat, then proceeding to talk to them before leading them towards another cart that immediately followed the first one.
Murmurs began to start again in the crowd and some of them were directed at the old stallion.
Keeping his eyes on the ground, the old stallion stood up and walked through the crowd and towards the main entrance of the hotel.
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Opening his eyes again, a chill went down the old stallion’s spine at the thought of all that happened. What had happened to the once happy family. What was going to happen to them now?
Stop thinking about it, the other voice in his head said. Tormenting yourself will get us nowhere.
A gulp went down the stallion’s throat at the sudden return of the voice, and a sting of anger came with it. “Right,” the old stallion said, standing up and looking into the mirror. With a deep breath the bloodstains began to seethe, like oil, before disappearing completely, only ashes remaining. Shaking himself like a wet dog, the ashes dispersed into the room.
Thoughts entered the stallion’s mind as he looked at the falling ash. It looked like snow and they reminded him of better times. Times that hadn’t been thought about for what felt like an eternity. Inside of his mind, he could still see the little filly crying for her daddy, and he knew it was a picture that would never disappear entirely. Just like the rest of them.
Turning to retrieve his saddlebags, the voice in his head made him stop.
Leave them.
“No,” the stallion replied angrily. The presence in his mind grew.
We cannot have such things with us. Only the necessities.
“They are necessary!”
No. We don't even need the bits. I have let you carry it around for long enough. Take the bits if you like. Let the rest remain. Keep the memory of the it if you so desire.
The stallion wanted to defy the voice, but he didn’t. Instead he felt his stomach drop at the realisation that he had no say in this. Opening the saddlebag, the stallion took out two bags. A big one full of bits and a smaller one with bits as well, but this one was stained with fresh blood.
Looking back towards the mirror, the stallion stared into the hollow eyes of his reflection once more. “What now?”
Now we leave.
“Isn’t it a bit early? Won’t they suspect our sudden disappearance?”
Perhaps, but by the time they do, it will be too late.
In all honesty, the stallion was glad he had to leave Appleloosa, but at the same time it made him sad to leave. He couldn’t bear having to see the mare and her filly again. They always had to move around, all of the time without stopping.
A sigh escaped the stallion as he made peace with the decision of the voice. “Fine, where to?”
Las Pegasus.
“But it has been less than two months since we were there last time.”
Always be--
“Consistently inconsistent, I know,” the stallion sighed again before walking towards the door, casting one last glance towards the saddlebags and then the mirror and younger blue maned reflection that was staring, almost judgingly, back before walking out of the door.
Good, Shining Armor, you are finally beginning to listen.
This story also intrigues me.