The Amazingly Awesome Adventures of Tank the Tortoise (by R. Dash)

by Bradel

Chapter 6 – The Evil Lair of Dr. Angelbunny!

The light of a lone candle held back the darkness.

"Oh, sweet Celestia... What have I done?" Rainbow Dash rocked herself back and forth, unable to shut her eyes. Her hooves twitched, and she tried to pull them closer. The shadows were growing longer – she could see that now. She whimpered, too terrified to even blink. A low sound filled her ears, like wind blowing across an endless sea of ice.

The candle flickered twice, and went out.

"Are you ready, Tank?"

The tortoise nodded, and Rainbow Dash snugged his goggles a little tighter for him. She pulled the hood of her own black jumpsuit over her head, and the pair took flight.

It wasn't far from Rainbow Dash's home to Sugarcube Corner. Dash could have made the trip in under two minutes, but it took close to ten with Tank in tow. The building was a dark silhouette in the night. The Cakes, with their two infants, were visiting Mrs. Cake's sister in Vanhoover. And Pinkie, who had been tasked with watching the store in their absence, was spending the night at the Apple Farm where she and Applejack would be teaching the Cutie Mark Crusaders to cook. Dash smiled, imagining Scootaloo trying to make apple fritters.

When she and Tank arrived at the shop, Rainbow Dash flew up to the balcony on the top floor. She glanced inside the balcony door's heart-shaped window, but all she could see was darkness. Tank buzzed up beside her.

Rainbow Dash tried the door and found it unlocked. Great! She giggled quietly as she and Tank slipped inside. She felt a bit like Daring Do, sneaking around in the night hunting for secret treasure. Well, sort of. And if she was Daring Do, then Tank was just like the Tank from her own stories. Maybe not quite as awesome, she admitted to herself. Story Tank was hard to beat.

Inside, Rainbow Dash hopped down from the walkway ringing the top of the tower. She floated to the bedroom floor and made her way to the fireplace. It was too dark to see more than a few vague shapes, but she knew that Pinkie kept a pair of candles and a box of matches on the mantel. Fumbling around with her hooves, she finally managed to grab one of the candles and set it alight. Dash cackled quietly. This plan was going perfectly!

Lifting the candle, she made a quick survey of the room. Where would Pinkie keep her stories?

Rainbow Dash knew it was wrong to go sneaking around somepony's home without their permission, but Pinkie kept refusing to let Dash see what she wrote. It was totally unfair. Rainbow Dash had shared all of her stories with Pinkie. And from the way Pinkie talked, Dash had a sneaking suspicion that her friend knew a whole lot more about writing than she was letting on.

Only, now that Pinkie was gone, there was no sign of paper or ink anywhere. For that matter, Rainbow Dash didn't see a single book or bookcase in the room. On a hunch, Dash squatted down beside Pinkie's bed and raised the edge of the comforter with one hoof. Aha! There, tucked away under the mattress, was a flat iron-bound chest. With an awful scraping sound, Rainbow Dash pulled it out from beneath the bed and threw open the lid.

What she found almost made her drop the candle in surprise. The chest was filled with stacks and stacks of pages – thousands of them – and nestled on top...

A wide grin split Rainbow Dash's mouth. She set the candle on the floor nearby and reached into the chest. Reverently, she pulled it out – a large, leather-bound volume. It looked centuries old, but it couldn't be. "The Account of the Explorer, Waning Promise" by Pinkamena Diane Pie. This was Pinkie's own work. She had written a book!

Bringing the book and the candle to Pinkie's table, Rainbow Dash tried to get comfortable on one of the hard wooden stools. Tank buzzed along behind her, staying in the candle's sphere of dim light. After staring at the book's cover for a few more moments, reveling in the excitement of forbidden discovery, Dash opened the cover and began to read aloud for her tortoise.

"Whoever you are to have found this journal, I entreat you: read no further." Rainbow Dash blinked. This first page seemed to be hoof-written and hastily scrawled, not like a proper book at all. "It is evident that the mind which penned these words was twisted by some primordial madness. My team discovered this account soon after we reached the last known position of the ill-fated Southern Sun expedition. We have studied these pages for the past two weeks, seeking to better understand the terrible affliction wrought upon their creator, but now with the passing of each hour I find that I can perceive less of their infesting lunacy. Is it possible that the madness was in fact our own, that by failing to heed the author's warnings, I have brought this doom upon our expedition as well? All are dead now but me, and I do not know if I will last the night."

Rainbow Dash suppressed a shudder. This didn't sound anything like Pinkie Pie. This didn't look like her hoofwriting. She closed the book to examine the cover again, and the name was still there, plain as day. Pinkamena Diane Pie. Embossed on a book that looked twice as old as Ponyville itself. Tank had settled onto the table nearby, watching Rainbow Dash intently. Biting her lip, Dash re-opened the book and picked up where she had left off.

"No, it is too terrible to contemplate that the fate of our enterprise might have been directed by some fell and reasoning existence. I cannot endorse such a thought, and yet the shadows in this very room grow longer as I write, and I can half believe I hear that same sound, like wind raging across a vast plain of snow and ice, that so captivated the mind of this journal's first owner. Perhaps if I step outside for a moment, I can divest myself of this hellish notion once and for all."

And that was the end of the hoof-written preface. The account began anew on the next page, with a mare named Waning Promise discussing her preparations for a journey. Rainbow Dash had stopped reading aloud, but she found herself glued to the story in front of her. Waning was an advanced student at a prestigious Canterlot university. As a final research project, she had joined a team of explorers led by an old stallion named Southern Sun, who intended to investigate the frozen lands to the extreme south of Zebrica. A buzzing sound filled her ears for a few moments, but she didn't let it distract her from the story.

Rainbow Dash found herself checking the cover of the book again and again as she read. As she read of the expedition's arrival and the bitter cold of the southern continent. As she read of the terrible dreams that began to haunt Waning shortly afterward – the horrors she imagined, and they way they slowly stole her reason in that perpetual, frozen night.

As the flame of the candle burned low and began to gutter, she read of the wind that wasn't, the eerie sound that invaded Waning's dreams, like air howling over an unending frozen sea. As the candle flickered fitfully, she read of the death of old Southern Sun – all told through an increasing haze of madness, or so it seemed. She read of other deaths, and of the vast loneliness that besieged the mind of Waning Promise. And then there was no longer enough light to read by, but Rainbow Dash found that her eyes were still locked to the pages. Her limbs refused to move. All she had to do was find the box of matches and light the other candle, but it was as if a vast, eternal gulf separated her from the room.

"Oh, sweet Celestia... What have I done?" Rainbow Dash rocked herself back and forth, unable to shut her eyes. Her hooves twitched, and she tried to pull them closer. The shadows were growing longer – she could see that now. She whimpered, too terrified to even blink. A low sound filled her ears, like wind blowing across an endless sea of ice.

The candle flickered twice, and went out.

When the lights came back on and Pinkie burst into the room, Tank buzzing behind her, Rainbow Dash didn't know if the darkness had lasted for seconds or hours. She didn't know if she'd been screaming, though her throat felt raw and dry. She twitched fitfully, still rooted to her wooden stool. Her head slowly turned toward Pinkie, and Dash felt both joy and bone-deep dread wash through her. She tried to say something, but only a pleading mewl escaped.

"Oh, Dashie..." Pinkie gave a heavy sigh. "You really shouldn't have done that. Didn't I say you wouldn't like my stories?"

Rainbow Dash's lips moved, but no sound came out.

Pinkie came over and gently stroked her mane. Then, looking down at the book, the pink pony giggled excitedly. "Hey, you made it farther than Twilight! That's pretty good!"

"Pinkie... What was..." Dash finally managed to form words, though they came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Shhh. None of that now." Pinkie grabbed the book surreptitiously, stuffing it back in her trunk. "What you need right now is a nice fire and some hot chocolate. Doesn't that sound good, Dashie?"

Tank settled in front of Rainbow Dash and gave her a small frown as Pinkie lit the fireplace. He buzzed up and licked her cheek, then started trying to push her toward the cheerful flames. Slowly, stiffly, Dash managed to move her hooves again, and after a minute she was able to get off the stool and slink toward the fire. She lay down in front of it, tears welling up in her eyes.

Pinkie returned from downstairs presently, carrying two steaming mugs of chocolate. She set one of the mugs in front of Rainbow Dash. Then she set her own down, not far away, and did her best to give her frightened friend a hug.

"I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash. I guess I should have tried harder to warn you..."

With trembling hooves, Dash reached out and grabbed the mug in front of her. She brought it to her lips and tilted the mug forward, and the warm sweet drink seemed to restore a little of her vitality. "You... you wrote that, right? S-so it's not real?"

"Of course it's not real!" Pinkie gave a little shiver of her own. "Ooh, that'd be super-duper scary. It was bad enough writing the thing. I think I'd go crazy if that were real!"

"But the book cover... It looks so old..."

Pinkie giggled again. "Well, I asked Twilight to do an aging spell on it. She said she couldn't, but I kept pestering her until she tried, and it turned out that they're not quite so hard to cast on inanimate objects. I think it looks really cool that way!"

Rainbow Dash could only give a weak nod.

"Hey, Dashie?" Pinkie's voice was quiet and soothing, as if still afraid she might scare her friend. "What do you say we try to work on your story a little more? Maybe that'll help you feel better, if you try thinking about something that you enjoy?"

Tipping her mug a little, Rainbow Dash took another swallow of the hot chocolate. "I don't know, Pinkie. I don't think I could get my hooves to stay still enough to write anything right now."

"I could write for you," Pinkie offered cheerfully. "You just tell me what to put down and I'll take care of the rest!"

Rainbow Dash thought about it for a moment, and then the barest hint of a smile returned to her face. "Yeah. Okay. Let's try that."

As the last of the mummies hit the ground with a thump, Tank dusted himself off.

Winona stared at the devastation in wonder. "Sir, that was amazing! Where did you learn how to do that!?"

"Princess Celestia. It's how she ended the great mummy rebellion, four centuries back. That's one move I never actually thought I'd have to use. Now come on, Dr. Angelbunny's lab should be on the next floor up." He suited his words with action, whirring into the air and moving down the corridor.

Winona followed, rubbing her left shoulder. The mummies had been pretty hard on her, before Tank arrived to finish them off.

From lower in the tower, Tank could hear the sounds of more fighting. Commander Spike and the forces of the League must have begun their attack. But Tank and Winona had seen hundreds – maybe thousands – of Angelbunny's soldiers as they snuck through the citadel. By the time Spike and the League could fight their way through all of them, Dr. Angelbunny would be long gone. It was up to Tank and Winona to stop him now.

The corridor rounded a bend and ahead Tank could see stairs ascending to the top floor of the citadel. They were strangely unguarded. Tank paused, holding out his arm to stop Winona. This seemed wrong.

Winona knew what to do. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small capsule, pitching it down the corridor. Blinking lights shone around the object, and it should have popped open and scanned the hallway for traps once it came to rest, but about halfway up the corridor the lights blinked out. Some kind of electromagnetic interference. It would short out the motor on Tank's propeller, too, he was sure. But there didn't seem to be any other effects.

Settling himself on the ground, Tank switched off his device. If he didn't try to activate the propeller in the corridor, maybe the electronics would come out intact on the other side. Carefully, he and Winona stepped forward into the corridor.

They had gone about half the hallway's length before they heard a rumbling noise coming from the walls. They were shifting, opening up rows of holes near the ground, and something was coming out of those holes.

"Snakes," Tank cursed. "I hate snakes."

"Hurry, sir! We've got to get to those stairs quickly!" Winona dashed around him, urging him to move faster. But without the ability to fly, Tank was as slow as any other tortoise. He strained to move faster, but the snakes were already pouring into the room.

"Winona, you're going to have to push me."

"Sir?"

Tank settled onto the ground, pulling his arms and legs into his shell. His voice came out as an annoyed rumble. "You're going to have to push me. We'll never make it to the stairs in time, otherwise. Don't argue, just get behind me and push."

Thankfully, Winona didn't put up any further argument. She set her nose against the back of Tank's shell and shoved. It didn't take long to get up to speed, though they still couldn't move as fast as Winona could run on her own. A snake started to slither in front of Tank, so he snapped his jaws at it menacingly. It decided not to push its luck. "Hurry, Winona. We're almost there!"

The snakes were drawing very close by the time they reached the stairs, but Tank's plan had worked. He popped his limbs out of the shell and began climbing, Winona bounding up the steps beside him. The snakes, thankfully, seemed content to slither around in the corridor rather than trying to climb the stairs. Tank tried to fire up his propeller, but the contraption had stopped working. He reached onto the top of his shell and unhooked it, letting it fall back uselessly onto the stairs as he climbed. If he had to face Dr. Angelbunny without his propeller, this job was about to get a lot harder.

Pinkie looked up from re-reading the new pages. "Didn't Tank move pretty fast on the train, though?"

Rainbow Dash scratched her head with one hoof. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Hrmm. Here, gimme that one."

Staring at the page a little longer, Pinkie shook her head. "No, it's okay. You should be resting. You can come up with some way to explain it in the next chapter."

Tank, the real Tank, buzzed around the room with his propeller perfectly intact. Pinkie had tried reading the new chapter out loud to him, but for once it failed to catch his interest. Rainbow Dash couldn't understand it. Didn't he like hearing about the awesome Tank in the stories she was writing?

"Oh, yeah, and on page 2, are you sure you want to say 'purse'? It kinda made sense on the train, but is Winona really carrying a purse all through Dr. Angelbunny's fortress?" Pinkie pointed to one of the sheets with her quill.

Tank had settled in the heart-shaped window of the balcony door, staring out at the night sky. Rainbow Dash sighed, turning her attention back to Pinkie Pie. She had work to do.