//------------------------------// // Breathe // Story: Grey Eyes // by Smakleapp //------------------------------// Let’s practice breathing. It’s easy. You just need to follow these simple rules. Here, let’s do it together. Ready? Listen closely to your heart beat. Listen to it’s thumps. Listen to it’s noise. This is your battery. Don’t forget this, ok? Remember. Now, let’s begin. The roads were filled with fire ridden debris, parts of buildings, parts of the road itself. Bodies laid down upon the road too, all coldly lying in the street where their moving selves once were. Stiff. The air itself was a gray fog, looming over the dead. After an undetermined amount of minutes, the bodies remained in their stiff life forms, however the structures themselves became upright. Grace was as absent from the bodies as their color. They all got up as one. They all stared as one. And they all moved as one, all straightened as one, all listened as one, all had eyes as one. Take an inhale. Close your eyes. For 5 seconds hold your breath in. A few houses and shops stood among the side of the road. The creatures made no break on their pattern. The only abnormalities were the gray pegasi flapping their wings slowly, lifting 2 meters off the ground. Then, let it out. In an instant, the cold bodies stopped with inequine abruptness. A house stood alone amongst its neighbors rubble. Like a swarm of locusts, the pegasi began to furiously flap their wings, and a without hesitation, turned towards the house while remaining stiff. The others did so with precise timing. In slow agonizing steps, the crowd walked in front of the small downtown city house. They stood still, staring blankly into the windows. There was nothing except the hardwood floor, a fireplace that wasn’t used in days. Nothing living. The only movement made was the soft flutters of their ears. No emotion except for blank focus. Blank determination. The shells stayed there without a grasp on any sense of time. In fact, there was no sense at all. Everything was quiet now as the locust fluttering died down to an absolute zero. As one, the group turned, eyes gazing upon the grey mist that gathered around the city. Good job. That’s all you need to do. No, don’t cry. Listen. Breathe, and you’ll be ok. I promise. I never lied to you before, right? Let’s try again. The air almost grew thicker as more bodies began to slowly rise up from the road, and without warning, stiftly walked to their group. Breathe in. No don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Breathe. Breathe instead. Please breathe. No stop. Please, listen buddy, brea-no, shh, please you were doing so good. No I’m not mad, I just need you to be quieter. Please. Bre- CRASH The sound of breaking glass was accompanied by the locust flutter. The sound of glass cracking tracked through the floor and into the basement below. Three earth pony figures inhabited the room. A father, a mother, and a colt, who currently had tears streaming down his face, landing upon the fathers hoof, which was firmly clamped on the sons mouth. The father himself carried a shotgun, laying on his back. The family seemed to mock the creatures above by too standing still as a single being. Each breath, each tear. Everything was harmonized. Everything was equal. The father and mother shuddered with fear, with the dad pressing his hoof harder into his weeping sons muzzle. The concrete walls of the basement offered little warmth, with the mother shuttering. The dad eyed his wife, who quickly nodded and understood. Now with his family silent, the sounds came from upstairs. Slamming. Breaking. Everything the family earned in the last years were gone in a short instant. The father learned quickly what was going on. The silence of the basement and his family allowed him to analyze the steps. They varied in distance, but timing remained constant. It was always constant. The fathers eyes were taken from above to his son as he tapped his fathers arm which was now pressed so hard against the sons muzzle that he had trouble breathing. In pure fatherly reaction, the hoof was released. “Ugh.” One breath Not only did the steps stop, but so did any sound of the basement. All was silent, and all eyes now moved as one to the ceiling above. Nothing. In an instant, intense steps were heard, and in the next second, the ceiling opened up into wooden debris as a gray unicorn came rocketing down. Bang! The shot fired caused the head to expolode on impact. This did nothing but ensure a rush of the greys, as earth ponies sacrificed their hooves to attack their pray, landing on each other to brace their fall. The pegasi needed no such sacrifice. The basement was designed with no door, at least none of the traditional type. A trap door stood in the far corner of the room, and all three made a mad dash towards its opening. “Hurry!” screamed the father. “Hurry, oh fuck, hurry!” He fired a blank shot that only disabled a unicorns horn. It went down to the ground, but it’s face registered no pain. The father now threw open the trap door, climbed in the hidden passage, and turned back to help his young son in. The next second, he outstretched his hooves for his wife, who was visually shaken and scared of the growing mob behind her. “Roberta! Please! Please! Cmon!” “My knees. They’re in so much-CELESTIA FUCK, GO!” The last sight the child ever had of her mother was a lone gray hoof wrapped around her midsection, and with terrifying speed, pulling her out of sight for the last time. The father threw his eyes down to the ground as he took his son through the dirt tunnels he had installed a good while ago. A few seconds later and the monsters must have figured out how to open the trap door. They came to an entry way they entered in, a stone gateway. The father motioned for the child to help him push it open. They pushed with all their might and the giant stone slab slowly began to turn as the greys were right behind the two. It was as if gravity was taken from the panic tunnel. Emotions and ideas and any cognitive thought was liquid as it ran from the minds of the ponies. Tap tap tap The opening was still much too small, and it would only be a matter of seconds before they were feasted upon. The father stared at his son. Tap tap tap They could hear the shallow breathing, and so it would be upon them. Push. Tap tap tap One last look. One last stare. One last smile. One last declaration. “Son...I love you.” The son was incapable of speaking as his father used all his strength for one final push of the slab, then turned to the horde of grays. He fired a single shot. One. Single. Shot. The slab was open now enough just for the child to slip by as he heard...nothing. He heard no screams, only the tearing of flesh. His father made no sound. The last sound he ever wanted to make was telling his son he loved him. The turning slab now put the child in their living room. Previous thoughts slowly came back. He remembered how his mother called his dad paranoid. Scared. Overreacting. The child now ran out the door, rattling behind him as tears stung his face against the cold fog. He didn’t know what direction he was going, as he hadn’t learned too much yet in school. School. School. His friends. His life. He remembered the playground, and how the slide was so much fun to ride. It was his absolute favorite. So were the monkey bars, for a while at least. The child ran past the stiff bodies that lay on the ground, and he feared they would rise. There was nothing behind the child, no sound . He found an ally that had a rather large dumpster. Without thinking, the colt jumped inside of the dumpster, and despite the smell of rotten eggs, spoiled milk, and other trash, there was little regret. The monkey bars. Those were fun for a while. He remembered climbing them, and he would show off to the fillies about how strong he was. A piece of gum. They would bet a piece of gum. By the end of the day he would have about 3 packs worth of gum in his pocket. Until he fell. It was after a rainstorm, and normally he wouldn’t do it, but they bet 5 sticks of gum he could do it. One slip onto his back. One slip. It was a far way down. He remembered the shocked expressions of his fellow classmates. The gasps. He failed. Simply put, he failed. And the pain wasn’t as bad as he thought it should have been. It came in waves, it was constant. But it wasn’t bad. Too bad that he couldn’t head. So he heard excuses of himself saying to do it, and the threats of calling their parents. And he remembered something his teacher told him. She looked down at him as he laid there, feeling sorry for himself that he messed up. He lost the bet. Looking back on it, it seemed a tad bit ridiculous . But then it was devastating, more so than the fall. The rain began to pour down as he sat inside the disgusting dumpster, hearing now the shuffle of the hooves and the sound of the wings. He heard it’s pat pat, but something sounded louder in his head, louder than anything he ever heard in his life. It was a mix between his teacher and his father. And they both gelled into one voice. One voice. One. Single. Voice. Breathe