//------------------------------// // Nest // Story: Shellstrings // by shortskirtsandexplosions //------------------------------// The Cave Lyra trotted around the first of many rocky bends. There was no fire. No smoldering sticks. No sign of a camp of any kind. And—as she entered even deeper into the cave—she felt as though the green light that had initially invited her was... receding. "Hello?" Lyra murmured, her voice echoing into an unknowable depth. "Uhm..." She gulped. "Please... I-I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I'm... n-not here to upset your apple cart. I'm sure lots and lots of groovy ponies come out this far to build hippy retreats that are way off the grid and—" She cut herself off, rolled her eyes, and face-hoofed. "Gnnnngh..." She tilted her head up again. "Look. Please. There are—like—a ton of nasty, nasty wolves out there... and they want my blood super bad. Can I... uh... can I stay here for the night? Just for shelter? I promise..." She gulped. "...I'll be gone first thing in the morning! Out like a mint green light! Heheh... you get it?" Silence. As soon as her voice's echo dwindled, all was deathly still yet again. Nevertheless, the faint green glow persisted—just beyond reach. "... ... ...Hello?!" Lyra's brow furrowed. "Look, if you're hiding in here to bake magic brownies, I won't say a word! I swear!" Silence. "Do you even give a crap about what I'm saying?" More silence. She bit her lip, then daringly blurted: "PEEVED!" The mare craned her ear... but still heard no response. Slowly, inch by inch—like a dying candle—the green illumination drew away from Lyra, filling her portion of the cave with darkness. Lyra took a deep breath. "Freakyyyyyyyyy fudge." A shuddering sigh, and she turned to look back the way she came. "Ravenous wolves..." She looked forward again. "...or Sigmane Freud experiment." At last, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Silence. Wordless, Lyra shuffled even deeper... at a crawling foal's pace. The air was cold... Sterile... ...but not for long. Lyra trotted around another winding bend, and she instantly regretted it. A foul odor filled her nostrils—almost making her wretch. "Eugh!" She covered her muzzle, fighting the rise of bile down the back of her throat. "Friggin'... puppy husks..." She hissed. When the resulting wave of nausea finally cleared, she felt a strange wetness dribbling down her hoof. "... ... ...?" Raising an eyebrow, Lyra glanced down at her forelimb. The green light had grown so dim that she could scarcely make out any detail. So—after a meditative breath—she summoned enough magic to illuminate the immediate vicinity with her horn. A pale amber spotlight materialized in front of her, illuminating a floor covered in puddles of moisture. Curious, Lyra reached out... pawing at the shallow liquid. When she brought her fetlock back, unmistakable strings of slime clung to her limb. There was a definite green tint to the viscous material. "Buck me sideways," Lyra said, grimacing hard. She tilted her head up. "The Hell's been living here?" Directly in front of her, Lyra's hornlight illuminated a sheet of porous rock, covered in dimples. Curious, Lyra side-stepped around the puddles, shining the light across the dimpled wall, revealing more pores, more pores, more pores, a gaping mouth. "Guh!" Lyra hopped back, flinching hard. "Celestia on a bike!" Her shivering spotlight rocked to a stop. A petrified figure came into focus. It wasn't a skeleton, but the pony could just as well have been. The poor stallion's skin had been drawn tighter than a drum, with no room for wrinkles. Every cheekbone showed—sharp and pronounced—and dust had collected in his nostrils and other orifices. Enlarged sockets had frozen solid around enlarged eyes, and the pupils were glazed over in a pale preservation of abject terror. The corpse continued staring into eternity, its mouth gaping wide open in a silent scream. Lyra was already gnashing her teeth. Hard. She tilted her horn down slightly. A thick vine of green slime was wrapped around the dormant stallion's midsection. It held the pony to the wall behind him. And he wasn't alone. Gulping, Lyra reluctantly shuffled down the chamber. Her light illuminated another pony—this time an emaciated mare with her head bowed low. After her, there were two zebras, followed by another pony... and then two buffalo and a dog. All were bound to the wall by the dull green slime, and the further down the line Lyra traversed, the slightly-less decayed the bodies appeared. "Cheese and crackers," she slurred, leaning forward to shine her light on the two lifeless buffalo. She gulped hard. "What on earth happened to you poor dudes?" "G-Green light," the furthest buffalo to the right whimpered. Lyra froze immediately in place. "Grkkkk!" The horned native jerked his head up. Yellow vomit dribbled from his dry lips as he mewled: "Mrmmmfff... greeeeeeeen lighttttt..." "Shhhh..." Lyra shivered, but nevertheless crouched before the poor victim. "Just... j-just don't move, okay?" "Mmmmm—don't follow it..." The buffalo shook and thrashed, batting at his slimy bindings with weak, cloven hooves. "Don't... d-don't f-follow it!" "Just... just take it easy!" Lyra gulped. "Look at me. I... I-I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" "No..." "Somehow. I just gotta—" "It's too late..." Sniffling, the buffalo looked aside at a scrap of flurry flesh plastered to the floor. "Little Paws..." He sobbed. "...he passed out three days ago." He clenched his eyes shut. "Ancestors... take me... please..." "None of that, okay?! I mean it!" Lyra grabbed a husk of dried slime and struggled to pry it off him. "Grnnnngh... you can... g-go to your glittering sky casino after a full, long life... ya hear?" "Don't... must..." The buffalo hyperventilated, pushing at her. "Must go. Must go before it's too late. The green light!" "Shhhh—" "The green light! It's too late!" "Look, will you shut it?!" Lyra hissed. "I'm trying to get you out of—" Cricket song. Lyra sat in place. Cricket song. "N-no..." The buffalo cried. Slowly, Lyra stood up. Slowly, Lyra turned. "That's how it st-starts!" The buffalo panted, thrashing about. "Don't look! Whatever you do!" Lyra peered. Sweatdrops dribbled down her flesh. "Don't look into h-her eyes!" "Eyes..." Lyra slurred, teetering slightly. "What... eyes...?" Out from the darkness, the green light returned. It floated in two spots. Faint... fleeting. It teetered as Lyra teetered. The cricket song intensified... until it found a shape... and formed a voice. "Lyra..." The unicorn blinked. The buffalo's cries of protest dwindled in a distant fog. The two green spots narrowed... disappeared... and reappeared. This time—candy blue. "Lyra Heartstrings...?" Lyra's heart skipped a beat. "Bon Bon...?" She raised a hoof forward. The buffalo's muzzle was opening wide in swift bursts. He shook and thrashed. "Lyraaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." The blue lights intensified. "I... wanted to say..." Lyra leaned into the darkness. "...how sorry I was... for ditching Lemon Hearts—" Something hairy beside her thrashed and thrashed. At last—a cloven hoof slipped out far enough and smacked Lyra's fetlock. A jolt of electricity flew through Lyra's body, instantly waking her. She clenched her eyes shut—and as soon as the blink ended, her ears were resonating with the buffalo's screams. "Run! Run! She's already got you—!" The cave was aflame with green light. Spiders and centipedes covered the walls. They congealed together, forming giant insectoid limbs before Lyra could even summon the strength to scream. She spun around and bolted towards the cave exit—only to trip on one of the dead ponies' limbs. She fell down—and within a second she felt a thousand tiny mandibles biting into her ankle. Her shrieks struggled to catch up to her body as they were lifted off the ground by the swarm-formed tentacles. In a blur, the buffalo's screaming face flew out of view as she was dragged down the winding corridor lined with pupae, cobwebs, and dried-up equine bones. In a blur, she was flung about to face her fate. Vomit rocketed up her throat, but it was too late. She could see the eyes... the jagged horn... the slowly inflating and deflating carapace of a barely-alive husk, curled up in the furthest corner of the cave like some hollow fossil, clinging to existence, and all of it blacker than beetle shells. "Let us see..." The warbling voice said. "...how you fit." The tip of the jagged horn glowed as it made its way towards Lyra's soft chest. The unicorn scarcely felt a thing as it penetrated her body and tore its way out through her spine. She lurched forward. Her eyes rolled back. And then...