Dark. A simple word, yet that was all that came to mind for this. Raspy breaths passed through the shadows as somoene raced through the heavy shadows, deadset on an objective they'd discovered weeks prior. Walls flew by, unable to keep up with the soul now crashing through its uniform interior.
"How long have I been running...?" A thought in the darkness, lost to the edges of the soul's mind. A typical question, one they had asked themselves before... hadn't they? It was becoming difficult to tell. The sound of feet crashing against the metal walkway drowned in the black, an almost ethereal cold having settled in eons before the hall had been intruded upon.
Another sound joined the dull cacophony of steps, splitting it with its clarity; a laugh. A laugh that felt cold, yet sounded like it belonged to a child. It only served to drive the soul's efforts farther, the steps becoming faster, more heavy. A vision finally bled in from the darkness, just barely enough for the soul to lock their eyes on it.
A long dark hallway, green metal walls with a steel grating, inhabited only by the sound of footsteps, the echo reaching away into the darkness, a mad sprint. Off in the darkness is a silhouette, still too blurry to see properly.
“How long have I been running for?” The shadow asks itself, still sprinting towards something in the endless black. A high-pitched cackle is heard, only an echo, almost drowned out by the sound of the shadow’s running.
“That laugh again…who is that?” The shadow mumbles to himself, holding a deep tone, troubled by the ominous laughter in the distance. He picks up his pace, the wind blowing past his face, his silver hair bouncing to the beat of his run. Off in the dark, another shadow can be made out, running away from the man. A smile can be seen on his face, quickly replaced by a frown, then by an angered grimace.
“You aren’t getting away from me this time!” He screams at the shadow. The cackle returns, much closer than it had been before, but the being in front of him seems to be keeping its distance, although running much slower than him.
“How the heck is she keeping this gap so wide?” He asks himself, questioning his own capability to run faster than anyone he’s known. He picks up his pace, trying to catch up to the shadow just outside his reach. The darkness fades slightly, revealing what he’s chasing.
A pink coat, and a hot pink mane whipping in the wind. The head turns slightly, showing a cyan eye, and a sick smile. The thinned darkness reveals a leather dress covered with what seems to be patches of flesh, cut with delicate purpose, shown in different shapes and colors. On her sides are what appear to be wings, three pairs of varying sizes and color. The sound of bone clashing against bone can be heard over the conjoined metal clanging of their sprint, unicorn horns briefly showing themselves, hanging from a string around her neck.
“An…Equestrian?” The man asks himself, almost in shock. An Equestrian, a pony, could outrun him? He only knew of one pony who could truly beat him in a race, and this one certainly didn’t look like her. The shine in her eye and the sadistic look of her smile was all he needed to discount that possibility.
“Cmon, keep up! I’m getting BORED here!” The pink pony shouts back at him, bouncing slightly to each of her steps. This only serves to tick the man off more, who picks up his sprint to his top speed, moving his arms behind him, letting his legs do all the work. The clanging of the sprint quickly escalates into a mad banging of heavy boots on metal, as his speed nearly doubles.
“Woo, so you can run faster! Glad I picked such a good guest, been a while since I’ve had this much fun!” She seemed to be enjoying herself, having fun, as if this mad sprint into the heart of Oblivion was just some competition she’s having with one of her friends. She picks up her pace into a sprint, quickly widening the gap between her and her chaser.
“I said YOU AREN’T GETTING AWAY!” The man screams at her, as she crosses through a space and a door slams closed behind her. He tackles the door, it easily snapping off its aged hinges, and he skids to a stop in the middle of a dark room. He breathes hard, looking like he’s run for hours through a warzone, his feet covered in what looks like blood. He takes in the scenery with quick glances, sharp breaths moving in and out of his lungs, trying to get rid of the sting in his legs.
A single torch lights up the room, revealing a scene he’s never witnessed before. Rusty fences are what make up the walls, only shown in patches through what…seemed to be crawling flesh. The ground moves under his feet, and the room is filled with the pungent smell of rot. The light reveals more of his figure.
He doesn’t seem to have come from Equestria, standing on two legs instead of all fours. Gloved hands and wearing what seems to be military fatigues. Two bangs of hair fall past the ears on the top of his head down past his eyes, and five silver spikes leading across and off the back of his head make up his hair. His eyes are brown and bloodshot.
“Where’d she lead me…?” He stands up straight, taking a few slow steps towards the center of the room. Bodies hang from the ceiling, shown from his adjustment to the darkness. Equestrians, hanging from chains, some coiled up in the chains while others are impaled on large butcher’s hooks like pigs waiting to be cut up and devoured. Most are missing their lower torsos, some remainder of their organs hanging from the bottom of the corpses. All of them have no eyes, and their mouths are cut into a permanent grin. The simple sight of these makes the man feel sick, but he holds it down as he continues his search for the pink mare.
“Over here! Over here! Cmon, I can’t wait all day!” A cry from the darkness. He slowly turns his head towards the sound, and moves forward, reaching towards his back for the sword that should be there, now of all times. He grips only air.
“Heck of a time for Esma to not show up…” He groans, as he proceeds into the black. A sound enters his ears, besides the dripping of water and the slight giggle of the crazy pony he’s been chasing.
“Is that…crying…?” He cocks his head to the side as he asks himself, wondering if that psychopath was even capable of crying. He walks forward further, beginning to make out shapes in the darkness left unlit by the torch on the ceiling. An operator’s table that wouldn’t be out of place in a hospital, a small table next to it, a small bag on top of the table. On the operator’s table is a shadow, a shape that can be vaguely made out to be an Equestrian, and beside the small table, another shadow, the shape of the horns and wings all too apparent.
“What the…” He squints his eyes, trying to adjust to the dark.
“Well, do you like what I did with the place? It took a lot of party guests to get it juuuust the way I wanted it! But they all served their purpose admirably, so I couldn’t be happier!” That inane giggle following the high-pitched sentence sent shivers down the man’s spine. He takes a few steps further, his eyes now adjusting properly, and he stops dead in his tracks.
An Equestrian on the table, definitely young, and the cries were certainly from her, but that isn’t what shocked him the most. The pony on the table looked exactly like the psycho he’d been chasing down the corridor. Take out the dress, the wings and the necklace, and you couldn’t tell them apart.
“Help…me…please…” A quiet sentence breaks through the whimpers, the girl’s eyes full of tears, full of pain. Her body’s been cut up, carefully sutured in places, several holes marking injection sites for some kind of syringe. The man opens his eyes wide at this cruel show, and he quickly becomes angered.
“…Did you do this?” He turns his eyes to the other pony, his brow lowering into a cross look. His bloodshot look becomes worse, the veins slowly reaching inward to his irises.
“Well…I thought it’d be obvious, really. I’m the only one here with the scalpel! But don’t worry, she’s having fun, see? Those cries are of joy, she’s happy to be helping me! And after the fun, she’s gonna help me with some baking, and I’m sure this batch will turn out better than all the rest!” She gleefully exclaims, bouncing over to the crying girl on the table before nuzzling her neck.
“Aren’t I right, Pinkie? C’mon, let’s see that great smile you show everyone else!” The crazy woman prods at the pony named Pinkie’s wounds, causing her to shake on the table and shout in pain.
“Stop hurting her!” The man roars at the woman in the dress, his blood shot look worsening, the veins turning black, almost burning. Black flames grow on the backs of his hands, his vision becoming a red tunnel.
“And why should I? You just want to ruin my fun! I know the kind of ponies like you, always trying to get in the way so you can get a shot at this! This is my game, and you’ll get your turn, you just have to be PATIENT. Know what that means? It means to WAIT.” She seems more annoyed than anything at this show of aggression, taking a scalpel from the bag with her hoof before sticking it in her mouth.
“Well, if you aren’t going to keep quiet, then I suppose I’ll just have to shut you up!” She screams before lunging at the man. The scalpel shunts its way home into his arm, the man growling in pain, an almost primal roar. His gaze shifts to the crazy girl’s eyes, and her pupils shrink in terror at what she sees.
His eyes have now become entirely blood shot, the whites of them now covered in streaks of black veins, veins which should be red. His own pupils are filled with a red hot flame of pure hatred, and his irises have turned blood red. His grimace shakes into a twisted smile, a slow, high laugh coming from him, turning the woman’s stomach.
“Ohhhh, I want a shot at it, DO I? Well, I don’t see the point in going further with the kid on the table…ohhohoho no, I want a LIVE TARGET. And you’ll do juuuust fiiiiine…hehehehehahahahaha…” The man has completely lost himself to the emotion, instinct charging his every action. He flexes his left hand into a fist, his right arm stabbed with the scalpel. The woman jumps away as a flaming fist blows through the air where her head used to be, and the fear in her eyes quickly changes to annoyed anger.
“I KNEW you were just trying to ruin my fun! Now I don’t think I’ll be able to play with you, you’ll get my dress all messy with your flailing! Guess I’ll just kill you now, she’s done playing anyway.” She growls at the man, having lowered himself into a more ready fighting position. His smile has now crept into an insane grin, and the whites of his eyes are a near solid black from the continued spread of that flame in his eyes, the red in his pupils now burning a bright blue.
“Well, you want FUN, here it COMES!!!” He screams at her with a maniacal laugh, and he sprints at her with renewed vigor and blinding speed, as a hand slams her straight in the throat and shoves her into the metal wall. An audible crick his heard as the slam straightens the spine in her neck, the windpipe flattened from the pressure.
“I’m…going to enjoy…every moment of this…MONSTER.” He grunts out the words, moving his left hand back and opening it into a palm. His eyes open wide and his pupils shrink, adrenaline pumping through his system with a mad rush.
“Guess…you…really did…wanna play, eh…heheh?” She gags out, coughing, trying to get a breath into her lungs through her crushed windpipe. She feels herself grind against the wall as she’s moved down, level with the man’s eyes, and they stare at each other.
A dead stare, terror entering neither side, nor is the hatred leaving either side. They simply stare at each other, trying to break the other’s soul before theirs is snapped in two. The man’s left hand shakes, his breathing quickens, the smile expands ever more, and the palm comes forward, aimed right for her muzzle. The strike lands, a crunch is heard, and…
“GAH!” The man shoots up from a bed, banging his head into the upper bunk, knocking himself back into the pillow. He hisses out a breath of slight pain as he holds his forehead, rolling around on the bed before falling out of it onto the cold, concrete floor, landing with a thud and a puff of exhaled breath.
“Awww, that hurts…” He whispers to himself, looking around the small room. Four bunks, three shadows holding his same figure still sleeping soundly. The room is completely dark, his eyes taking in what little light there is coming off the moon through the small window in the wall.
“Can’t sleep?” A deep voice speaks to him from above, which causes him to jerk in shock a bit before looking up. The other man’s face is lit slightly by the pale moonlight, revealing a brown face with red hair, deep blue streaks running along the top of his spikes.
“This sorta thing usually isn’t enough to wake you up, Tyrus…ahhhh my head…” The silver-haired hedgehog faces the floor, gripping the sides of his head.
The red-haired hedgehog on the top bunk simply rolls his eyes, before slipping his legs over the sides and dropping down to the other man’s side.
“Come on, this has gone on for a good while now. How long’s it been since you started having these, month and a half? Two months?” He kneels down next to the man, picking him up the arm.
“Round that, yeah…” He grimaces as he rubs his forehead, a lump forming where he’d hit himself. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Time for a late night visit to the Doc, Sehn. On your feet, soldier. Should be taking care of this yourself, seriously…” He sighs, annoyed at this whole burden.
“Yeah, yeah, just take me to the Sickbay…my night vision sucks.” Sehn rubs his face, moving back over to his bunk, grabbing a black shirt and his zip up camo vest. He puts both on before shoving his hands in his pockets and heading out of the barracks with Tyrus.
The heavy door whines slightly as it opens, the hinges having not been oiled lately. They head out of the room and into a long, dark hallway, a thick metal walkway having been put in to separate the two floors of quarters for soldiers. Sehn looks around with a slight worried look.
“Something wrong?” Tyrus asks, beginning to walk off into the darkness.
“Nothing…just, these dreams’ve got me on edge.” Sehn lowers his eyes, obviously put off by the darkness that envelops the hall.
Tyrus simply chuckles to himself, “Aren’t you usually this uneasy? Maybe you’re just telling me this to cover up your usual scaredy-cat traits.” He grins, looking back with a sly glance.
“Shut up. You think I could’ve made the rank of Captain by being scared all the time?”
“Far from it. You got it simply by being recognized. Fear and skill are two different things, brother.” Tyrus shrugs.
“Whatever. How far is it? This hall is way too familiar for me to stay in it for long.” Sehn says under his voice as he looks around.
“Why’s that? Afraid something’ll…” Tyrus vanishes from Sehn’s sight and taps him from behind on the shoulder “GETCHA?”
Sehn jumps, spinning around, fists raised. “Don’t do that! Scared the crap outta me…”
His brother laughs, the simple joke being all too effective. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help myself. Sickbay’s right around the corner, pretty sure the Doc’s heard us coming.”
The two round the corner into a short hall, having four doors on either side. The two on the left are marked Armory and Training Hall, and the other two are both simply marked Sickbay. They head into the nearest door on the right, and are immediately greeted by crazed giggling.
“I’ve done it, I’ve done it! Oooohoooohooo, by Jane I’ve done it!” A tall, grey haired hedgehog with a full beard smiles brightly and laughs to himself, rubbing his hands together over what appears to be a large microscope. A purple-haired female sits away from him, leaning against the counter, cross-legged.
“What’s gotten into the Doc this time?” Sehn asks with a smirk, looking over at the lady.
“His typical ‘supreme discoveries’. He thinks he’s isolated an agent that causes cancer in 90% of subjects it’s applied to. Pretty sure it’ll go like all his other projects.” She says with a bored tone, leaning her head on her hand, staring at the old man.
“It’s good for a few laughs, isn’t it, Jen?” Sehn smiles, chuckling to himself over Doc’s insane cackles and exclamations of accomplishment.
“Doctor Fresten, please.” Jen looks over at Sehn, eyes half closed, the rose-colored irises partly covered.
“Ah come on, we’ve gotta be on a first-name basis by now, ‘Doctor Fresten’.” Sehn rolls his eyes, moving over to one of the tables and taking a seat, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He snaps his fingers, creating a small ball of black flame on the end of his finger, and pulls out a smoke with his mouth.
“Ah ah, no smoking in the operating room. You know what it does to the patients.” Jen takes the smoke out of Sehn’s mouth with a swift motion, putting a hand on her hip, the shadow of her beautiful figure standing over Sehn.
“Killjoy.” Is all Sehn mutters, lowering himself into a slouch. He puts out the flame with a quick exhale, waving his hand, then looks over at Tyrus.
“Right…Doctor Fresten, me and my brother have come in concerning a case of psychological trauma, as far as I can tell. Have you heard about his nightmares?”
“I have, though I don’t think any form of dreaming is meant to cause physical injury…” She strokes her chin as she leans over Sehn to see the lump on his forehead.
“Banged my head waking up from my dream.” He says as he looks up at her neck, trying not to look down, thinking ‘Please sit back down before I get slapped…’
“Of course you did, dear. Anyway…” She says as she sits back down at her chair, leaning on the counter with her left arm, laying her right hand on her crossed legs and staring at Sehn. “Let’s start from the top, shall we? Tell me how these nightmares began.”
“Hoo…alright, let’s see…it began a month and a half ago. The first nightmare I had was pretty short, just a vision of five shadows in the distance. They were all blobs, but the sense I got from them was…foreboding, to give it a word. Like something was coming, something bad.
The next nightmare I had was a bit more vivid. The shadows had form, color. I couldn’t quite make out where they were from, but I definitely heard the clinking of metal and the drawing of swords. The footsteps were all muffled so I couldn’t tell if they were bipedal or not…”
“The nightmares stayed like that up until two weeks ago, sometimes placing me in a wide open desert, or in the middle of a bombed out city. I’d always wake up, feeling confused, but it never bugged me much. Then…they got bad. About a week and a half ago, one of the three really vivid nightmares came up.”
“I was in the middle of a vast desert, and the moon was hanging right over my head. The sand looked white under the light, but I could definitely see that it was just sound around me. I heard footsteps behind me, and they belonged to four Hemoran soldiers. I looked over myself, seeing I was dressed in a Lieutenant’s fatigues, the four that followed me all being Corporals. I looked up from my squad, and saw that another figure had come into being in front of me…except it wasn’t Hemoran…it was Equestrian.”
“A lavender unicorn, dressed in the armor of one of the Royal Guard. The way she looked at me said she was looking for a fight, wanting to cut me down. Behind her were four more soldiers, all unicorns, though their colors weren’t as vivid as hers. The four drew swords from their sides, and she…somehow…pulled a black sword out of nowhere from above her, moving it around with her magic. I drew my own blade, Esma, and the soldiers behind me drew theirs. We stood there for about three minutes before one of the unicorns charged straight at me. Cut him down easily enough, a swipe at the legs through the gaps in his armor, and a swift stab in the forehead, but none of them seemed phased by the death of their comrade. Two of their side and three of mine got into a fight, killing each other after about five minutes of fighting, while the last two foot soldiers on either side just charged and stabbed each other in the heart, right through gaps that would’ve taken real sharp eyes to see.
It was just me and her, and we stood there, staring at each other, not even budging. I counted the seconds going by, keeping my mind on her body and face, watching for any kind of movement, when I heard something flying through the air. I raised my sword, BAM, she was inches away from slicing my head in half, and she didn’t even blink to signal it! It’s like she’d fought in three wars, training with that damn sword every day! The strength pushing that blade down was massive as well, brought me down to my knees before I managed to slip out from under it. I jumped to the left as the blade dug itself into the ground, and charged at the unicorn from the side. Quick stab straight into the edge of her sword! I jumped back, sprinted around to her other side. She was still looking the other way, but I had to assume she knew where I was standing, so I feigned a stab into her side, tapped her block and jumped. I brought Esma down straight for her back, when I saw a flash of black and felt probably the worst pain in my life…
I managed to get my side sliced open, pretty deeply as well. It didn’t stop my fall, but it did mess up my concentration. I stabbed my sword into her back, denting the armor and knocking her off balance, while I jumped back. This wound was bleeding worse than any other I’ve ever had, bleeding way more than it should have, considering it was in my lower left side. I brought my sword back up, looking at her, then looked around her. No sword. Nothing, just her, and those purple eyes, full of anger…
Then a great stabbing pain, as the sword ripped right through my stomach. She’d impaled me from behind…something I didn’t even SENSE coming, let alone see. Went all the way to the guard, about three feet of steel sticking out of my lower gut in front of me. And that’s when it took over…”
“When what took over, Captain?” Jen raises an eyebrow, interested at where this story is going.
“Well…IT…I can’t really put a word or name to it. It felt like what usually takes over…but she wasn’t there in my head. It was just primal instinct, I guess…my vision tunneled, turned red, my eyes shook…I could feel myself losing control, losing feeling, losing my mind. The pain melted away into the intense heat of my own hate for the enemy, and I could feel myself burning. Esma’s edge ignited, my vision went completely red…and I passed out. When I came to, I was standing over the unicorn’s brutally wounded body, ready to strike the final blow, when I saw her face.” Sehn stops, his eyes widening slightly, putting his hands together, looking down.
“Saw what?”
“…She was smiling…she looked…happy…like she’d fulfilled something that she’d always wanted to do. I didn’t give it much thought in the nightmare, I just smiled back and impaled her through the side, aiming for the chest and hitting my mark. Hearing the splitting of flesh, feeling the pain that she felt when that blade struck…and that smile didn’t disappear from her face. She didn’t even twitch or cry out…she just smiled…closed her eyes…and died.” Sehn takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.
“…And this is just the first of the nightmares?” Tyrus looks honestly surprised, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah…and they only get worse from here.” Sehn says back, having a scared look on his face.