//------------------------------// // Chapter Eight: Visions // Story: The Getaway // by Spittyfire //------------------------------// Rummaging through his coat pockets, he shuffled to find a source of light. He removed his sonic from his pocket and tried to turn it on with a couple shakes. All it did was flicker on slowly and make a couple sounds of struggle to stay on. Perhaps it wasn't the most useful way to see, but it was rather uncomfortable not being able to see clearly. He felt that anything could peep up behind him and catch him in his rescue mission. He wondered what got him here anyway. He could easily retreat out of here and go back to the TARDIS. But he knew that was wrong. He had ruined enough lives and letting her die would be another reason to launch him into the nearest void. She was probably his last good reason to somewhat decrease his horrible acts. His sonic went off again, and he let out a grunt of frustration. He tapped his sonic against the unseen wall and heard a loud cracking noise. His sonic finally turned on and he was a bit startled to see that his entire surroundings were made of mirrors. It was a bit odd. The Doctor examined the crack and muttered. "My my, someone has plenty of time on their hands," but the Doctor shook his head. "Somepony... hooves. Why does the ponies' vocabulary have to be so difficult?" he asked himself and scanned the crack he had caused. His sonic rang in alarm, indicating that there was a strange identification around him. Something odd, like a disease. A disease. The Doctor swung his hoof to cover his nose and mouth from breathing in any of the disease. Realizing it wasn't really going to help, the Doctor examined his sonic for more details. He read the results aloud, a bit shaken up. "Disease identified: Madness. Very damaging to weak minded, doesn't affect the wise well-" the Doctor let out a sigh of relief and stood calmly. Hell, he was already mad. What would it do any harm to him? As for Spitfire... she was young, and not that bright. Surely she wouldn't be taking this too well. Enough stalling though, he had to continue to trek through the strange mirrored hall. As he started to trot through the hall he made a left and flinched in front of a mirror. In the reflection was title, upon title of all companions that knew him well. It choked him up a bit, having to see everyone he let down. "No," the Doctor muttered. "I must keep this behind myself, I must show myself that I am not... what this is. I... I am a hero. And I shall prevail to be!" the Doctor exclaimed. Yet his hooves felt frozen in place. As the left side of his mouth twitched in irritation, he shouted to the mirror. "Be gone!" and with that, the mirror shattered before him. He mumbled a few words of sorrow and turned away to continue down the eerie hallway. His cheeks flared red and his eyes were quite red. Whoever was wise enough to pull off these hallucinations was quite clever. As he had passed each mirror, they all seemed to hate him with each name of his former companions and how they had all gone. He saw the names of Rose, Martha, Donna, and even Amy. Many other names of his past were surrounding him. And it would take much too long to shatter each mirror with his words. Leaving his cracked up sonic to do the job of destroying his past. He held it in his mouth pointing the sonic from left to right, back and forth, every shatter truly getting to him in his two hearts. He knew this place was trying to get into his mind, to break him apart. He wouldn't let him that happen on his watch. As he passed through the Hall, confronting each name, he froze in his steps to hear a shriek. It had to be another hallucination... but it seemed so real. It could have been a trap... but he couldn't resist from saving her. "Spitfire, I am coming!" he hollered, as he burst with speed across the hall. He did his best to ignore every call for help by the mirrors. The further down he went, the older companions were there. It was as if he was in a dark cemetery with absolutely no end to it. Every cry was a blow to the heart. But after stampeding through the hall, he stopped in his tracks to stand before her. He wrapped his hooves around her to hug her, to comfort her and to make sure she was all okay. But Spitfire didn't even budge to hug back. "S-Spitfire? I thought you were captured. Are you okay? You look perfectly fine, but I heard yells and cries. Why aren't you searching for me or help?" the Doctor asked her staring into her eyes with a startled expression. She looked fine, not a scratch on her. It seemed wrong so wrong; the Madness would've left her looking as if she had gone through her worst fears. But she stood before him with a smirk on her face and her mane was high with a somewhat flare...yet she no longer wore a bathrobe. "I'm fine Doctor. You're foolish for coming here Doctor." she blandly replied with that strange smirk on her face. "Foolish? Spitfire what has happened to you?" he snapped back. "Oh nothing let me stay here. I think I'd like to help this carnival... I'll stay here for a long while. You know, till I get old probably." Spitfire muttered towards the last of her words. The Doctor gritted his teeth and retreated from hugging her. He stood back and glared into her eyes. The bottom part of his mouth quivered. "Where is she? What did you do to her?" he said austerely trying to find out what was wrong with her through her eyes. "She's done for Doctor. Long gone. The Madness has successfully done its job. Go home. Go right back to your home before I change my mind. And if you even take one step forward I can simply do what I've done to her." the voice had commanded from supposedly Spitfire's mouth. "She... She can't be gone. You're lying! There's always a chance to save them, always!" the Doctor shouted. "Them? Obviously you aren't too good at saving it seems. Why don't you just give up? Head out. Right before you will regret doing the worst decision of your life." "I bet you've said that a thousand times. You don't scare me; with all of your hallucinations... it's a joke. Really, who do you think you are? Ruling a carnival? Go run for mayor or something." the Doctor glared angrily. The somewhat-Spitfire sneered. "Then this won't pain you?!" her voice shouted and projected along the hall. She stomped with one hoof and squeezed her eyes shut. She let out a yell, but now it was no longer in anger. It was in pain. She sunk down to the floor and lied there. Her face was directly towards the ground and the grim smirk became a frown. The wounds on her sides began to appear along with each hair coming out of place. The Doctor didn't care if it was an act, he cared. He darted to her side and held onto her shoulders. He knelt in front of her and held her head in front of his. Her eyes were sealed but her mouth quivered. "Spitfire. Spitfire listen to me, I want you to breathe firmly. Not everything around you is real. I'm real though. I'm right here for you. Know that, okay?" the Doctor tried to assure her. But only a groan was her reply. The Doctor struggled on what to do. He didn't quite remember the way out, but he had to help her. She was all he had. Placing her on his back he trudged back where he came from. He passed the broken mirrors and the eerie surroundings. He wasn't quite used to his body at this four-legged state yet, but he would have to manage. Alright, let’s see, one hoof, then the other, not forgetting the back legs. Spitfire let out a cough and opened her eyes a bit. "Wh-What? Is that you?" Spitfire mumbled. As she looked a little more closely around her, she saw that the blue manned stallion was heaving her through some sort of... dark tunnel. "You came back, you… you saved me!" she smiled drowsily.The Doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head. He'd play along, but only because Spitfire was so ill. "Yes. I'm here. Everything is going to be fine. Why not you plan some things we can do later... on our picnic." the Doctor fibbed. Spitfire let out a giggle as she squeezed her arms around his neck. Her cheeks flared red and she let out a hiccup. She smudged the side of her cheek against the light blue mane and smiled. "Picnic? What picnic?" she mumbled "The one I made for you. It'll be coming up... don't think to hard about that. We have important goals." the Doctor replied, looking from left to right to find a way out. "You're too sweet. Too sweet. Yes... you're like a cotton oasis of blush." she laughed after a hiccup. The Doctor frowned and rolled his eyes. The only thing he could really do was to continue to trot. He looked left to right again. He wondered why it had been so dark. This lowlife couldn't just install a few lights for crying out loud? He had to get out before they were found. Although they were lost and it seemed that there was no end to Spitfire continuing to act like this, he was forced to listen to her strange chitchat. "Hey." "Hello Spit." "Are you deaf?" "No Spit, I am not deaf." "But I had another glance and your whistle is just so... mph... don't be so rude to be." Spitfire sniffled. "Alright...” he muttered. "I don't want to continue with this... mm... hot... weekend. Forget this. Can we.. go to the stall cloud?" she said a little bit louder now. "Quiet down, why not you just stay quiet in general?" the Doctor almost pled. "I want... I want the black umbrella!" she exclaimed. The Doctor bit his lip but continued to trek. He swore that if she was still like this, he'd do anything to make her the old Spitfire again. But how long could it last? The Doctor turned to hear a loud trot from afar, down the hall behind him. His ears flared up and he only did the best thing he could really do. Run. "Why are you grabbing a routine?" Spitfire dizzily asked as she felt his pace pick up. "There's... there's a hungry mob of... butterflies. And they're after the bread in the basket!" the Doctor tried to speak in her language but wish he could slap his hoof on his forehead instead. Spitfire eye's opened widely and sat upright. "Those butterflies aren't going to steal our bread!" she shouted and hurtled herself off of the Doctor's back and into whoever-was-chasing-their path. The Doctor rolled his eyes, but once he realized she wasn't on his back he slid to a stop. "Spitfire! No!" he shouted and ran back. She had hurtled herself pretty far.. if only she had the brains to know better at this time. "Why did you not stay on my back? I swear… listen we need to get out of here. Now." he called, but froze in his steps to see a large figure ahead of him. He was about two feet taller than him. He had a sly grin and a red jacket like himself except his whole color scheme was wrong. It had been way more villainous his jacket compared to his with black threads at the edges. He had a large black top hat which had a red ribbon around it that covered his horn and a black flowing mane that contrasted from his snow white coat. His eyes were narrowed and black staring directly at him. And on his back was Spitfire out cold. The Doctor sneered and glared back at him. "Let her go! Now! She did nothing wrong! If you even hurt her I'll-" the strange stallion pointed his head downwards to look at him right in the eye. "I will hold onto her Doctor. This is my carnival. And I will no longer be subjected with pests like this mare and you.”