EMACIATED
bad pony fiction by BR
It remembers the day the sky turned pink.
It remembers buzzing down to prowl among the streets of the City of Love, looking for emotions to consume. It remembers feasting, along with other members of the Hive, rejoicing in their victory. It remembers feeding on the small and large alike, without a care in the world other than consuming enough to keep it alive. it remembers the feelings of triumph from its Queen, reverberating through every Hive mind. The Sun had been defeated,and the Moon had fled. Feast, my Children!
It remembers when the Queen was confronted by six Small Ones. Some members of the Hive interrupted their feasting to stop the Small Ones from carrying out their plan. The Small Ones were captured and brought back to the Queen.
It remembers another interruption, this time by Love itself. There was a battle. There was a loss.
It remembers the massive explosion, the force repelling it from the City of Love. It remembers the crystalline crack of magic on chitin, and horrible feeling of its own lifeblood pouring out. It remembers trying to buzz its wings and not flying. It remembers falling, past clouds, other members of the Hive, and trees. All the way down.
It doesn't remember crashing.
**********
The sun rose. It hurt. It hurt more than it ever had felt before. Pain. Pain. Pain.
The pain quickly awakened the Changeling. Black chitin slid over itself to reveal two cobalt-blue eyes. Eyes that showed pain. Eyes that hungered.
Hunger. The Changeling was hungry. It had barely gotten enough time to feast in the City before the Pink Sky. It needed to eat; therefore, it needed to move. It got up, and at once felt more pain. It fell to the ground. It got up again, and looked down upon itself to see why standing had become a challenge.
It was missing a leg. Torn out of its socket, with nothing but the hole and some dried blood left behind. Whether it was torn off in the Pink Sky, or the fall, didn't matter. It was missing a leg, and there was nothing it could do about it. The Changeling experimentally limped in a small circle. It could stand with three legs. It could walk with three legs. The Changeling staggered around. It wasn't alarmed; the limb could be regrown back at the Hive. Magic could heal it. The Queen could heal it. All it had to do was fly back. Fly back. Fly away.
The Changeling took a moment to look around at its surroundings. A forest clearing, with trees. A soft white blanket smothered the ground up to the treetops. It crouched down to prepare to take to the skies, cringing as a new wave of pain sliced through its midsection. The Changeling jumped and fell back to the earth. It hit the ground again.
It jumped again, and fell again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Finally, the Changeling dragged itself out of the ground and under the leafy shade of the trees. It left a trail of blood as it walked.
***************
The Changeling buzzed again, trying to catch the attention of other members of the Hive that might have survived the blast. No response. No response. No response. It was alone now. But it had to find the Others. The other members of the Hive surely knew what to do. The Queen knew what to do. It couldn't survive out here. It needed to be healed and fed. Fed with the love of others. But out here, in the forest, there was no love. No love. No love.
The Changeling began to walk again. Behind it was the City of Love, a place it that would both feed it and starve it if it went back.
The Changeling walked for hours; the constant pain and hunger pangs being nothing in the way of slowing it down. There will be members of the Hive at the next grove. The next grove. The next grove. The next grove. Again and again, it was met with nothing. No Hive, no Queen. Just an unending sea of green and brown, not the familiar black and green of the Hive. Bird calls and the cries of wild animals replaced the constant skitter and buzz of insects at work.
The Changeling passed tree after tree, giving no notice to any of the creatures living inside. The sun, which used to hang in the sky, dipped lower and lower until it almost killed the horizon, coloring the sky orange. The Changeling passed a large, twisting sycamore, and suddenly the ground beneath it gave way. The changeling fell, wings buzzing and limbs thrashing. It stopped a few feet down, landing on something warm and soft.
The family of rabbits fled from their warren, now destroyed by an invading monster. The Changeling tried to chase after them, but it was too tired to pursue them. Looking at the sky, then looking down at the small pit its fall had created, it laid its insectoid head to rest. It could find the Hive tomorrow.
***************
Dawn came and went, and the changeling had already left the makeshift hive. It was hungrier than before. The Changeling needed some love to feed on, but there was no love in this forest. The Changeling was assured that there was love around here somewhere.
It just needed to find it.
It limped onward amongst the slouching trees and huddled undergrowth, alert for both prey and a communication from the Hive. Leaving gnarled hoofprints in the ground, it trudged in some unknown direction, certain that that was the location of the Hive, of safety, of life.
A brown and white blur suddenly sped across its field of vision. The Changeling glanced among the bushes, but whatever animal it was - Love or no Love - was gone. The Changeling swept the forest floor with glowing blue eyes, but nothing was found. Just bushes, dirt, and trees. Trees. Trees. Trees.
It coughed, a short shudder that the Changeling paid no mind to. It stopped for a moment.
It sent out another signal to the Hive.
Nothing.
It continued on.
****************
Buzz. Nothing. Again. Buzz. Nothing. Again. Buzz. Nothing. Again.
The Changeling sat in the middle of another clearing. It didn't bother to try its wings. They were too far gone to be of any use now. Besides, it had bigger things to do.
Before, it had heard something.
A faint whisper in the sea of noise that was the forest. The HIve. The Changeling was sure of it; the Queen and her Children were here somewhere.
Buzz.
Buzz. At last. A response. Buzz.
Buzz. Buzz Buzz. Buzz Buzz. Buzz Buzz. Buzz
Another Changeling, somewhere close. The Changeling dropped from the tree onto a small pile of feathers. No Love in that bird. But the changeling needed strength. It needed to find love soon, or it would die.
The Changeling set off again, quickening its pace as it buzzed the other Hive member over and over. Again. Buzz. Buzz.
Something was wrong. The Changeling slowed to halt as the last traces of the last buzz vanished. It was getting weaker. the other buzz. It had to find the other Changeling, and fast. Before it was completely alone in this unforgiving forest.
The pain from its torn leg was spiking, but the Changeling didn't mind. Another Changeling could lead it to the Hive. It could be healed, and its hunger could be satisfied. It dashed through grove after grove of the arched trees, whipping past their gnarled branches to get to its goal.
Finally, it burst through the undergrowth. The Changeling frantically looked around the new forest clearing.
There it was. A huddled mass of green-black chitin, surrounded by a dried puddle of green blood. The Changeling inched forward nervously to inspect its dead comrade.
The dead Changeling was missing two legs; one in the back, and one in the front. The hardened exoskeleton was smashed and broken in several places, where the green blood stemmed from. Its wings were torn, its horn chipped. There was no way to bring it back.
The Changeling tentatively poked the corpse with a hoof, at the same time buzzing to see if there were any other Hive members out there. The only other Changeling it had seen since the explosion, and it was dead. It grasped one of the few remaining legs and began to haul the corpse out of the open, where it would not be scavenged by predators. A thought crossed its mind.
Should it eat the dead one?
The Changelings hunger was quickly becoming like the forest itself; expansive and inescapable. It was hungry enough to consider cannibalism. Maybe the dead one had a bit of love inside it. Maybe the Changeling would be attacked by predators itself. Its thoughts went back and forth like this for several minutes.
A low growl interrupted the Changeling. It looked up from the body of its comrade, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice. But there was nothing there. A whisper of fur on branches, a crack of a paw on a twig.
The forest growled again, and a manticore padded into view.
A clearly ferocious beast, almost twice as large as the Changeling. A coarse, slicked-back mane. A lion's face. Teeth the size of daggers. Eyes like chiseled granite, flaring into the Changeling's own with hunger and bloodlust. It padded the ground, claws scoring deep gouges in the soft forest earth. It growled and leaned back, ready to pounce.
RUN!RUN!RUN!RUN!RUN!RUN! The Changeling's instincts screamed in the back of its head as the manticore roared, a throaty growl that only revealed a few more sets of teeth. The Changeling mentally scrambled at the ground, but physically stayed in place, transfixed by the predator before it.
The manticore leaned back and pounced, and the spell on the Changeling was broken. It lunged across the forest clearing, over the body of the dead Changeling. The Changeling that was very much alive only had time to blink and turn away before the manticore struck it.
The Changeling was forcefully thrown across the forest floor, dredging up the weeds and grass that grew there. It got up as fast as it could with three legs, and limped until it was behind the trees. It kept looking back, expecting the manticore to burst out of the undergrowth and finish what it started. It didn't, but the ever-fading roars and crunches told the Changeling that the manticore had taken the easier prey of its dead comrade.
The Changeling's pace slowed from a sprint to a run, a run to a jog, and the jog was replaced by a slow walk. The growling of its stomach quickly replaced the pounding of its heart - wait.
More pain.
The Changeling examined itself again. Three gashes lined the center of its torso, oozing blood from every step of the way. The Changeling, terrified by its wound, picked up its speed, hoping to find some - if any - help in this forest. Soon, the adrenaline faded, and the pain from starvation, its wounds and the horror of it all converged on the Changeling.
It stumbled. It righted itself, shook its head, and continued walking. Still, the feeling of hunger never left the Changeling. It was so hungry, it considered going back to the carcass.
It recalled the roars of the manticore and kept going.
********************
A whisper of wind swept through the gnarled branches of the trees. The Changeling shivered, trying to ward off the cold, the hunger, and the pain.
It had not ceased walking since the manticore attack, and with each step its knees trembled, threatening to give out. Every step was a challenge, but the prospect of the Hive lured it onward. It was quite a predicament.
The Changeling began to wonder what its return to the Hive would be like. Would there be another generation of new Changelings? Would there be most of the Changelings that it knew? Would it return to find the Hive deserted? Only time could tell. The Changeling recalled the sense of safety it felt around the Hive.
It sent out another mental buzz. It hadn't picked up anything since the dying Changeling, but nevertheless it tried again.
The Changeling entered a clearing, smaller than the one before. A small animal, probably a squirrel or mouse, skittered past the Changeling, just out of sight. The Changeling whirled, ready to fight or flee at a second's notice. The noise died down, and the forest was quiet once again.
The consciousness of the Changeling shifted to the pain it felt. A missing leg, the wounds from the manticore, and the broken wing - all were reasons to keep fighting through this dark forest; however, the hunger was the most prevalent thing the Changeling felt. Ever since it was robbed from its meal in the City of Love, it had felt growing pangs of starvation.
Another rustle in the forest. The Changeling whirled as quick as it could with three feet to catch the source.
A small brown rabbit raced out of the forest, right past the Changeling. Quick as a flash, the beast was pinned down by a larger beast with more malicious intentions. The Changeling looked at the rabbit trapped under its leg. It kicked its hind legs in vain, attempting to escape from the Changeling's grip.
As the rabbit continued its struggles, the Changeling was considering eating the poor beast. It had never eaten real flesh before; all of its previous sustenance came from love its comrades brought back to the Hive. Would it even satisfy the Changeling? Would it even work?
It had to work. The Changeling was hungry.
The Changeling suddenly put down its leg, snapping the rabbit's neck. A brief flicker of satisfaction was kindled amongst the hunger. Now it was its turn to eat. As it began to consume the rabbit, it felt something. To be more specific, it felt nothing. The rabbit held no sustenance for it.
Disgusted and hungry, it turned away and started walking again.
********************
It was night now. The sun had gone away, replaced with the chill of the night. The Changeling was far worse for wear after it had killed the rabbit. Every step it took took more out of it than the last, and each breath it drew was shorter than the one before. It strode across the forest floor with staggering, jerky movements, as if its fractured body was trying to move in several directions at once.
It was suffering mentally, too. Every time it closed its eyes, an unearthly howl would bring it back to reality. The Changeling would look around, expecting another predator to attack, but the noise would have vanished by then. It sent out another mental buzz, knowing that nothing would respond.
The Changeling walked three more paces and collapsed to the ground. The combination of fatigue, hunger and its wounds were too much. It had finally, after all this time, reached its limit.
The ground below it blurred and spun while the trees above danced and stretched their limbs across the sky. All the Changeling could feel was hunger. Not pain, not fear. Hunger. After being deprived of meal after meal, is this the way it was to go?
Suddenly, the Changeling felt a hoof brush its shoulder. Out of pure instinct, it attempted to roll over to identify this mysterious new creature, but all of its strength had been drained by its doomed odyssey. Hope flickered inside its prone form like a fire in a thunderstorm. Could it be another Changeling? The Queen itself?
"My Little Changeling, I'm sorry this had to happen to you." The Changeling's black, empty heart leaped when it heard the rasping lilt of the Queen. However, this was accompanied by a sort of bittersweet feeling. It was going to die, and not even the Queen could bring it back.
Oh, Little One, I do not know how this could happen to any of us." The Queen's voice took on a mourning tone, the shame of her - of their - defeat bleeding through her words. "Merely seeking food, and we are cast about, persecuted, and presented to the children as horrifying monsters? Is this what our race is doomed for?" The rant of the Queen reached a crescendo as the Queen said, "Is this what we really are?" To punctuate this, the Queen stomped a perforated hoof on the ground next to the changeling. The Queen's voice dropped to a low whisper, and she leaned in to speak to the twitching Changeling. It did not know whether this was real, or part of the hunger.
"I know you are hungry, My Little Changeling. I can feel how desperate you are to feed, how much you have sacrificed to get here, how much you would give up to eat." The Queen raised a sickly-green leg and placed it on the throat of the changeling. She began to lean forward, applying pressure to neck of one of her subjects.
"Sadly, you are too far gone already." The changeling feebly flailed against the Queen's hold, but it seemed like the holed legs were as tall and powerful as the trees that surrounded it. "I'm sorry, my child. I'll make sure those ponies pay for what they did to you- and the rest of us."
The changeling's vision became spotted with black, but that was accompanied by a feeling of pride, and of accomplishment. By going hungry, it had not failed the hive. In fact, it had done exactly it was supposed to do.
And just like that, the hunger was gone.