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// Waking to Hell 
// Story: City of the Trotting Dead 
// by AKwriter92 
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My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright, as if I had just woken up from a terrible nightmare. My breathing was heavy, and my heart pounding like the bass from a DJ PON3 show.
As I started to slow my breathing, I looked around to see where I was. The room I found myself in was surrounded by dull blue walls; an old looking saddle bag lay on the floor next to the bed.
I groaned as I rolled off the bed and onto my hooves. My legs shook under my weight like a jello mold in an earthquake, threatening to collapse under me. But with some grunting and effort, I managed to stay on my hooves.
I began to slowly walk around the room, hoping that my legs would get stronger, which thankfully they did, before I went to explore the rest of the building.
Upon exiting the room, I found myself in a hallway with wooden floors and ugly green walls; the floor boards creaked under my hooves as I took my slow steps. Many of the doors to the other rooms were wide open, and I could see that the contents inside were strewn about. The air was thick and silent.
With nothing else to see on my current level, I opted to trudge down the flight of stairs that I had found. I took to the steps, slowly descending them, as my hooves started shaking again whenever I stepped down. I continued on, but I soon ran across something odd: it was a pile of furniture, stacked in front of the stairway, made up of beds, chairs, and other pieces of furniture.
I stared at the blockade in front of me for some time. I saw that I had two options in front of me: either (1) to clear the path in front of me and continue; or (2) stay upstairs. Seeing no other option really, I opted for option number one, and after a few bucks, the blockade fell apart, the furniture tumbling down the stairs. Unfortunately, my legs gave out, refusing to hold my weight anymore, and I was sent tumbling down the stairs after the furniture.
After a brief tumble down the stairs and to the lower floor, I rolled up and over the pile of furniture, landing on the floor in front of it. I groaned as I rolled onto my hooves, shaking my head as I got to my feet and looked around.
I found myself in what I guessed to be a lobby of some kind. There was a front desk, a bell laying on its side and papers strewn about. Windows were covered with sheets of wood, though a few were broken. There was a series of chairs and tables, some sitting on the floor, others scattered around the room, laying on either their sides or backs. The carpet was the same, ugly green as the carpet upstairs. But what caught my attention were the dark, red or brown looking splotches on parts of the carpet and walls, some having drag marks leading away from them.
As my eyes scanned the lobby scene around me, I felt something, cold and damp, brush by my leg. I gave a small but loud yell as I jumped into the air. Once I felt my hooves touch the ground, I spun to see what had run past me, praying that it had been a rat. Imagine my Horror when I was proven wrong.
What my eyes fell upon was far from a rat. Pinned under the rubble from the blockade that I had kicked apart, was  a pony, a Stallion to be exact, but he looked nothing like anypony I ever saw. His mane was a mangled, mottled mess of black, hanging down over his neck and face. His green eyes, glazed and bloodshot, starred blankly at me, with a hint of a predatory glint, as he reached for me with a mottled grey and brown hoof, and I gagged when I saw a bite mark in it. He gnashed his blood caked mouth as a raspy growl escaped his lips.
I scrambled back in horror, tripping over my own hooves, my eyes still locked on the Pony. My mind reeled in terror with what I had just seen, and I tried to make sense of what I had seen, even as the Pony continued trying to reach me.
I jumped again when there was a soft rustle next to me. I looked down to see a crumpled sheet of paper. Scribbled on it, was a short message: “Destroy the Brain!”
Destroy what’s brain? What entity was so terrible that by damaging it’s brain was the only way to stop it.
I clambered to my hooves, trying to suppress the almost overpowering urge to vomit. I stood up, taking several deep breaths to try and calm. After a few minutes, I trotted off, looking for a way out, or anything important.
I started moving around the front of the building, seeing the front door, but my spirits sank when I saw that it was boarded over with 2x4’s, nailing it shut. With a sigh, I walked off, hoping to find something that could help me open the door. I usually came across nothing useful; broken glass, snapped legs from chairs.
I came across a few metallic looking crates, an industrial look to them, and well as a thin, silver crescent on all four sides. I was hoping that I could find a way to get the box open, praying the there was something useful inside. I trotted around, and found a panel on the front of the box. My hopes soared, until I saw a slot one side, and two lights next to the slot, one green, one red. My hopes sank, realizing that I needed a card to open the box.
I backed away from the crate, bumping into another one, but this time, I felt something smooth, and there was a soft “beep” sound. I turned to face a small panel. The glass was cracked, but the screen had lit up, though much of the picture was static. There came a Mare’s voice from the box. Though most of it faded in and out of static, I was able to get most of what was said.
“Level Black.......been confirmed....Emergency protocols....enacted...Citizens...advised to avoid......infected...are identified...grey skin...eyes...irrational...attacking...only stopped....trauma...brain...”
As the static took over, I stared at the small screen, letting the few words I heard sink in. My head slowly turned to look back at the stallion, who was still clawing at me. As my eyes drifted his grey, pale skin, it dawned on me. Whatever it meant, he was infected. Though by what was a great mystery to me. I must have stood there in shock for ages, though I had no idea how much time had passed; all the clocks I had glanced at had been broken. 
After I finally decided to move, looking for something to get the front door open. I soon found a supply closet, and after I pushed the door open, I found several cleaning supplied, but propped in a corner was the real prize: a crowbar. 
I picked up the black metal instrument using my mouth, tasting the metal as I trotted off to pry the front door open. I passed the black crates, and stopped. I looked back at the Stallion, who was still determined to get to me, even though he couldn’t. As much as I wanted to ignore him, the thought of him suffering from some infection made me feel a sense of pity for him. As weird as it was, there was a nagging thought to end the stallions misery. 
I slowly trotted over to him, his raspy growl getting more insistent, his legs flailing as he tried to grab me. I stared down at him, and after a few minutes, I raised the crowbar up, the words of the recording and paper still in my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and slammed the metal instrument down.
The sounds that reached my ears was a sick, wet, mix of a “crunch” and “splat.” Thankfully my eyes were squeezed shut, cause I would not have liked to see what I had done. The crowbar rang as it struck the ground, and it vibrated so hard, my jaws hurt as the vibrations hit my teeth. 
I staggered back, dropping the crowbar to the floor with a clang. When I looked at the stallion, his head looked like a crushed pumpkin, his skull crushed inward, and a dark, red liquid spread across the carpet.
I was immediately hit with a wave of nausea, and my stomach decided to purge itself of it’s contents. The feeling of my stomach contents exiting my body wasn’t pleasant in any way, no surprise there.
After the vomiting spree, I stumbled off to find some way to get water down my throat, and thankfully, there was a bathroom on the lobby floor. I went straight to the sink, turning on the water and slurping up the cool water down my throat. I soon realized how thirsty I was, and started guzzling down the water.
Once my thirst had been quenched, I looked up at the mirror, looking at my coal black body, jet black mane, hanging over my face, and deep green eyes.