//------------------------------// // Episode 4: Sales // Story: Conversion Bureau: St George // by kryxel //------------------------------// TCB:SG E4 dreamed by kryxel brought out in therapy by ray10k this episodes song Some say, that dreams are just your mind sorting through the day’s events. Nothing but your mind looking back, and saying, “this looked important, let’s store it for later.” Others say, they are predictions, insights in what the future will bring. That your mind looks at what has happened, and determines what will happen. Yet again others say, they are nothing but random flashes of synapses, connecting everything like the price of tea in china. That dreams are just strangely vivid hallucinations, the random musings of a mind unrestrained by the constant sensory overload of data one encounters in a day. For Sales however, none of these theories rang true. Mostly because it had been nearly two years since he had a true dream, rather than a nightmare. Worse still, for all that time the nightmare remained unchanged. Always the same, never a single variation. Then again, why would there be any change to that terrifying mental scar that fateful day two years ago left? -------------------------------------------- Virginia conversion bureau, one year and ten months ago. 8:30PM. -------------------------------------------- The first blast rocked the entire building, as the outer walls crumbled under the might of the explosions. All those inside, who had hoped that the walls would keep them safe, didn’t waste a single moment before trying to get to safety, already knowing full well what had happened. The HLF. Those who saw conversion as an attempt by Equestria to wipe out the human race. Not even a week ago they had left a horrifying message, in the form of a rag doll hanging from a street lamp. A doll, shaped like a horse with both wings and a horn, and covered in the blood of the ponies they so despised. No question about it. It was a declaration of war. The bureau went into lockdown shortly after, due to "potential risks to the convertees". Sadly, C4 cares little for lockdowns. -------------------------------------------- Sales was one of 14 people to be converted the following day. His parents were there in the bureau as well, intending to go through it as a family. His mom was converted as the last one for that day, while his father would be the first tomorrow. Every time anyone would ask him about that day, Sales would reply, claiming to only remember the sirens and nothing else. His nightmares tell a different story. In his sleep, he relived that day in excruciating detail, forever remembering the day his world crumbled to dust. -------------------------------------------- Sales' mom stirred him from his sleep, asking him to follow Bunsen Beaker and Featherwind to the conversion room. the stronghold of any facility. He did as told. After all, his mother meant well, right? As Sales entered the heavily armored room, the first thing he noticed was that all the ponies where here, except for the Unicorns. The second thing that seemed odd to him was that the only humans here were the other kids in the bureau. The third notable piece of information came when they locked the doors... with the adults outside. This is the point where even Sale’s memory becomes somewhat fuzzy, time passing in a blur. Even with the rest of the memory crystal clear, he could not remember whether he spent minutes or hours waiting, confused and scared in that cold room. The next point at which his memories become more clear once more, starts with someone loudly pounding on the reinforced glass of the small window in the door, startling all the ponies and children out of their shock. "Come out to play little ponies!” a taunting voice from just outside the room says. ”No-one else has to get hurt if you open now!" "By Celestia no! We will not!" Beaker said, straightening his posture as he faces the door. A laugh resounded through the door, followed by footsteps leading away. For a moment, silence, until suddenly the speakers of the broadcast system buzz to life. “Now then, now that everyone can hear me, let’s play a little game shall we? The rules are simple: every five minutes, one of these disgusting beasts dies, until the conversion room door opens. So, without further ado, let’s meet our first guest!” Some muted cries were heard through the speakers, followed by a few stumbling noises. The cruelly cheerful voice returns to the speakers. “Meet our first guest, A Unicorn! Now, this one made itself quite the nuisance, so we snapped its horn off. Actually, we did that with all of the little devils, but let’s not split hairs about that right now. So, my most favorite death row inmate, what is your name?” "Golden H-Harmony," a higher toned voice, trembling in fear, came out of the speakers. A few of the kids gasped at the name. Harmony was the Unicorn in charge of the nighttime magic class, and a friend to many. "Good! Now, miss pony, I want you to beg. Plain and simple, just beg for your life. You have... three minutes to make those adorable little kids to open the door, and save you. Or, you could just wait here. Just means another trophy for me, anyway," the man said again, his voice crackling through the speaker. "I W-Wont."Golden Harmony said. “Y-you are going to k-kill them, and I-I won’t help with that!” “Oh? Looks like our guest has a little fight in her left! Well, you aren’t gonna get the big prize that way, so let me help you get over that,” the man said before a gunshot echoed was heard, followed by a scream. “Oops, I don’t think you’ll be using that leg again anytime soon. Oh well, just one more minute and you won’t have any use for your legs at all. So, save yourself the trouble, and tell those adorable little kids to open the bloody door!” Between the whimpers of the injured pony, only one word could be heard. “N-never.” *bang* "One down, a few dozen more to go. Time for round two, in which our new contestant even gets to talk!" This is the point at which the dreaming Sales flinches, knowing what happens next. "So, another round, another chance, and another Unicorn even! So, tell me, what is your pathetic excuse for a name?" "Diane Kital." Sales froze when he heard this, only one word passing his lips: "M-mom!" "Diane? Hmm...” The speakers fell silent for a moment, before the voice returned as loud as ever. “Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls! It seems that our latest guest is not only a pony, but also a traitor of her own race! So give her a cold shoulder or a hot round of lead, as we enter our second round!” Outside the locked room, the guards jeer and boo at the speakers, one even shouting to just kill her right away. “Now, now, no need to rush things. I mean, yes she is despicable, but the rules are that every one of them gets five minutes, so just be patient. Now then, Diane Kital, tell me about yourself. Like, say, did you come here alone?” "Yes. Yes, I did." Sales ran for the door, but a shadow descended upon him. Featherwind the Pegasus dove on top of him, stopping Sales before he could get to the door. "Don’t, kid. All that will happen, is they will rush in, and kill us all," he said almost coldly. The speakers crackle again, the main continuing his verbal torture. "Oh really now? Because, I do recall that one of my fellas said something about a locket. You know, the one you were wearing? The one with photos of a handsome fellow and a strong, young boy? Well, maybe breaking your horn made you forgetful, so let me introduce our first (mostly) human guest!” The speaker picked up the sound of a door opening, followed by some noises of a struggle. "now, my good sir, have a seat. So, what is your name? and please, use your real name, not whatever silly excuse of a name you’ve made up for ponyland.” "Bite me." "tsk tsk. I asked for your real name, though I do suppose that would be a good name for a sucker like you. Anyhow, for now I’ll l just assume it is Mr. James Kital. Oh please, mister Kital, don’t be so surprised! You should know how those mules gather every scrap of information they can get on you when you walk through the door! Now, their files also say the two of you have got a son! My, my, don’t you have any shame forcing your own child to just abandon his race? Anyhow, Sales. Yes Sales, I am talking to you now. I know you are behind a certain door, and we kind of need that door open. So, you have two minutes to open that door, or you’ll meet your parents again in whatever hell you walking glue factories go to!” The speaker falls silent, and Sales struggles against the weight of Windfeather. Several of the other ponies in the room pile up on top of the two of them, desperately trying to keep Sales from opening the door. "And the commercial break is over, folks! Seems like your kid doesn’t like you a whole lot, so any last words? Or will you open the door now, Sales? You still have a few seconds after all!” " Three words," Mr. Kital says. "We love you, son." "Sorry, that was four. Time’s up, so say your goodbyes!" The speaker picks up the last words of Mr. and Mrs. Kital. "We love you." *bang* -------------------------------------------- present day. 2 AM -------------------------------------------- Sales jumped up, wide awake. "DAD! MOM!" Silence fills the room. Silence, broken only by one thing. The sobs of a fourteen year old, crying out for his parents. //////////// Ray10k here. Ever get creeped out at how much fun writing certain characters is? Yeah, I got that with the psycho in this chapter.