*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*
John's alarm clock shot a salvo of sound at his bed. He groaned and rolled over, punching the large button on top for light. 7:30. The accursed machine hadn't turned off for the weekend. Funny, John could have sworn he turned it off last night. Figuring that what goes up comes down as soon as you open your eyes, John groaned again and flipped on the light.
"AUGH!" he jumped a little. The Rainbow Dash vinyl action figure was sitting right in front of his face... On his bed. "I didn't put you here last night," he told the pony as he put it back on his shelf. Sherral, that was it. The black and white speckled cat leaped up to the bed and began to rub John's pants in answer.
"There you are, you little trouble maker," the cat purred, sitting down and beginning to shed unmercifully onto John's bedsheets. He liked those bedsheets. But now they looked like they had been caught in some sort of black and white snowstorm. The perpertrator of the crime sat, twitching her tail and smiling expectantly up at her owner.
"Oh you," John chuckled a little, giving the cat a little scratch behind the ears. "Now no more moving figures, alright?" The cat looked at her owner innocently, with that classic 'who me' look that cats do. Then, she began to lick John's hand, her eyes rivited to her owner the whole time. John gently withdrew his hand.
"Let's get some breakfast, shall we?" John walked out of the room, the cat smugly following behind. The duo made their way down the stairs, the pound of a tired human followed by the gentle tapping of the cat. Sherral stopped now and then, pausing mid walk to look behind her. She twitched her ears irritably. Something wasn't quite right, and she knew it.
The gentle whirr of the microwave burst that bubble of thoughts. A warm breakfast was what she needed, and everything else strange and interesting could wait.
-------
John rubbed his eyes as the pan heated up. On the floor next to him, Sherral lapped her food up graciously. The bacon sat prepared while the pan heated up a little. Once the oil was boiling, John threw the meat into it and watched it sizzle.
"What do you think, Sherral?" he talked to the cat that was now expectantly sitting next to him, eyes staring at the pan. "Did you move that Rainbow Dash toy?"
Sherral didn't think she had. She often played with the toys. Well, playing is a relative term. She slept with the toys, and batted them occasionally, but never moved them. The cat shook her head, but her owner wasn't looking.
"Because I didn't move it, and you know what?" he looked at the cat, meeting the expectant glare. "I sure hope they don't move on their own!" He laughed a little at the idea. Last night he had been watching Doctor Who like on all Friday nights, but last night they were airing "Don't Blink". Ponies didn't move when you weren't looking at them, did they? No, of course not, that's silly. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind and turned to the burnt piece of pork that was his breakfast.
"Damn it!" he quickly took the black strip of charcoal that was his bacon out of the pan, throwing it onto the paper towel he had ready, and watched it apprehensively. The yellow grease oozed from it as though it wanted to be as far away from the burnt object as possible. Sherral looked hopefully up, her speckled face filled with anticipation.
"I sure as hell can't eat this," John picked it up like a dead animal, dangling it from two grasping fingers. He moved towards the trashcan but stopped, turning to face the hopeful stare of his favorite animal. "Oh alright," he lay the bacon out on the ground, "if you can get anything out of it, it's yours."
Sherral excitedly dived in,crunching down the black coating and savoring the meat between. Not unlike mouse bones, charcoal.
John turned back to the pan, deciding that pancakes were a much better idea anyway. Sherral continued to naw on her prize. But suddenly, her ear twitched in recognition of a slight sound. She turned her head and saw the form of a purple unicorn peaking around the door edge. Sherral stared at it, curious, and concerned. She blinked. And suddenly, there it was, Twilight Sparkle posed in a half walking position- halfway across the room. Sherral walked up to the figure, leaving her meat behind. John whistled a little as he mixed together pancake batter, and Sherral circled the action figure.
After thoroughly investigating all angles of the offending pony, Sherral plopped down to look at it. John walked over to the counter next to the stove, putting the metal mixing bowl of batter on the counter with a thump. Sherral glanced away from her specimen, glancing towards the sound. She looked back, only to stare at the ground.
Sherral batted the air, pounced on where the pony had been, and generally tried to bring it back. But then she remembered that it moves; it moves fast. She looked around the room, trying to spot the pony's position this time. Twilight Sparkle stood behind John, her head upturned to look at the back of his head. Sherral pounced on the toy.
It knocked over, producing a noise on the tiles and sparking John's attention. "Aw, you like Twily, don't you Sherral?" John asked playfully, looking at the mass of cat that surrounded the figure. He flipped a pancake. "I'm almost done here, we can eat on the front porch like you like!"
Sherral dropped the toy, getting up, embarrassed. Then, she looked at the toy and blinked. Nothing happened. She did it again. Nothing happened. She prodded the toy slightly. It rocked back and forth, but nothing else happened. She was broken from her thought as John called.
"Sherral! We're going to eat outside! I got you a piece of a sausage!" John called, the door creaking as it opened. Sherral looked up from the toy, embarrassed again, and trotted off after her owner. The world always look better after some sunshine and a sausage.
------
The sun was shining, warm and comforting, as John and Sherral enjoyed the great outdoors. The suburban house in which they dwelled (a Cape Cod in design, but a shack in state of repair) sat behind them, its white painted brinks flaunting with the light. John leaned back in his chair, putting his finished breakfast plate aside. With a soft thump, Sherral landed on the table and glared at the plate, attempting to make more sausages appear by sheer will power. After a few seconds she gave up and walked over to John's lap.
He petted the cat as she rubbed against his chin, slightly taken aback by the prickly unshaven hairs than stood out. John responded by scratching her behind the ears. She purred kneading her claws into John's bluejeans as she made circles on his lap. Eventually, after a two-thousand degree turn (it's like a three sixty turn except longer) was executed, she settled in for a nap.
The duo sat there for a awhile, soaking up the sunshine. Eventually John opened his eyes.
"Sorry old fella," he scratched Sherral on the head, scooping her up with the other hand. "How would you like to help me in the Firestorm versus Pink Phoenixes match?" John's hobbies on the weekend, of which there were many, included playing in a hotshot league of RTS players called Firestorm. They were one of the most well known groups on the Spring battleroom, a team of about twenty people, all epic, smashing their way to victory with exquisite cooperative moves. Pink Phoenixes was another group, one Firestorm often fought, and this weekend, it was going to be a big match. A map had been made specially for the teams, focusing on size.
Sherral purred, but decided to go on some rounds around the yard instead. So after an appreacitive leg rub, she trotted off into the bushes. John walked inside, pushing the door closed behind him, and descended to the basement. He flipped on a light and gasped a little. Three vinyl ponies were around his computer. All of them were in different poses than he remembered buying them in. Applejack clung to the top of his monitor,looking into the webcam as if curious to see it's inner workings. Rainbow Dash had her head in a box, and was searching through CDs. And Derpy Hooves stared straight at him, a cold lifeless glare burning into John's heart.
He blinked.
Suddenly, all the ponies were back to their original poses, standing next to his computer. He blinked again. Nothing happened. He rubbed his eyes.
"Must have gotten less sleep than I thought," he muttered, putting the toys back on their shelf. What he failed to notice however, was that one of the knives from his kitchen drawer... Was missing.
-----
"Yeah, let's show these wimps who they're messing with!" Harry's rallying call came over the microphone. John's heart pounded as the loading screen completed, and the map flickered onto the screen.
"Game starting in 3, 2, 1, go!" a head an announcer stated. Spectators watched the game, some rooting for one side, some for the other.
John instructed his commander to build the startings of an economy. "You fellas build metal on the deposits near you, I'll take care of the other ones."
"We know the drill, Johnny boy," Randolf said, his eyes rolling behind his microphone. John had role of chief economy engineer, that meant he got to build all of the support buildings to provide resources to his teammates. Factories were already online, churning out construction bots and light attack units.
"I need some cover for the geothermal vent I'm heading to," John asked, selecting a construction Kbot that had been produced.
"You got it!" Harry called, and a battalion of Peewees escorted the bot to the location.
"Intel, we need intel dude!" Jack called, "Can't do a thing with these artillery units if I can't see anything."
"On it!" Harris responded, and a squad of Peepers began to patrol the area, gathering information on the enemy below. The map was a sprawling land and sea map, geothermal vents dotted the mountainside and a huge lake sat in the middle. Good sized land passages allowed for land based warfare.
The game was well on its way, an advanced aircraft plant, built by Harris, was churning out gunships, bombers, and other advanced warfare units. The enemy was sending armies after them, getting themselves pummled by Jack's artillery.
Suddenly, a noise broke John's concentration.
"I need repair units, stat!" Johan called. His fleet of Razorback assault mechs were taking heavy hits. "John?" John whipped back to the game, sending a fleet of repair aircraft in.
Another crash.
"What the hell?" he asked himself. "Guys, I'll be right back."
"Make it quick, woohoo!" Haris cried. A swarm of Brawlers, advanced gunships, smashed into the incoming army, guarding the Razorbacks and their repairers.
John got up quickly and ran to where he thought he heard the noise. A vase was cracked on the ground, he looked around for the perpatrator.
"Sherral's outside, the window's closed," he muttered, "What could it have been- OH SHIT!" He walked into his dining room where a pony toy stood, a knife raised in it's hooves, as though it was about to plunge the blade into an apple. He blinked from surprise. Suddenly, there was a cracking sound and the knife was through the apple, the pony still holding it.
He moved closer, glancing around the room to see any other toys. He looked back to see the face of Doctor Whooves, snarling as a hoof pointed a knife at John. "What the hell," John asked, breathing quicker. He ran to the living room and switched on the news. He looked back, Doctor Whooves was getting closer.
"-these things seem to be seeking out weapons, is that right?" a lady's voice radiated from the television.
"That's right," a familiar voice responded, "These ponies are very dangerous, and they move increadibly fast, but only when you aren't looking. If you want to live, look at them. And don't blink. Whatever you do, don't blink."
"That was an unnamed caller who claims to be knowledgeable on the issue. On another note, fifty people have been found, brutally stabbed to death in their homes today. These homes generally belong to those fans of the TV show 'My Little Pony', and the victims almost always own a figurine of one of the characters...."
That was all John needed to hear. He backed to the door, staring at Doctor Whooves the whole time, before a realization hit him: was that David Tennant on the news?
He shrugged the thought off and focused on the task at hand: not blinking. His eyes burned. They burned and stung, the feeling of pain overbearing. Suddenly, they closed, blinking for a hard earned rest. They opened again, to find Doctor Whooves staring at his leg, his blade raised.
John leaped back, his heart pounding like a bass drum. Vinyl Scratch smiled from the stairwell, her mouth clenched on a Swiss army pocket knife.
"What the motherfucking hell is this," John said under a quick breath. He turned to look at Vinyl, her stare was fixated, angry, and very, very scary.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!" John screamed. He jumped out of his house, smashing the picture window into little shards, most of which stuck to his sweater; he didn't care. The only thought on his mind was to get as far away from those toys as possible. "GAA!" he shouted, leaping five inches into the air when three Twilight Sparkle's appeared in front of him.
"Take that!" he kicked the toys, but in the process of doing so, blinked. The knife didn't even hurt, it stung, but didn't hurt. Not until the full effect of the situation had reached his mind, anyway. "What the hell, WHAT THE HELL!" an army of surrounding toys smiled at him, getting closer with every twitch of an eye. Each was armed, and each want the same thing: death.
"I won't play your game!" John shouted, running through the ponies. He tripped as the knives caught him clean in the ankles, because you can't look at your feet while running. He lay on the ground, breathing heavily, as the maniacly smiling pascal murderers approached.
Blood stained the sidewalk as he watched his impending doom approach. A blood covered Pinkie Pie smiled at him as she drew closer, a knife clienched in her teeth. At that point, John closed his eyes and started praying. He prayed to nothing specific, just to the universe in general. He prayed for help, for this mess to end, for it all to be over.
He opened his eyes and looked straight into Pinkie's eyes as she raised her knife, and braced himself for doom. Taking a deep breath, he blinked. Much to his surprise, nothing changed. He didn't die. Instead, a bright light washed over the neighborhood, it washed over the whole world in fact, a cleansing brightness that started somewhere in the sky.
John watched as the ponies in front of him turned to ash, screams of pain and terror eminating from the toys. Every threatening toy was a pile of charcoal, and the light toned down. Knives clattered to the ground as their owners were burnt.
John smiled a little, the pain overwhelming from his cut tendons. Suddenly, a very bright light shined overhead and an equine silhouette descended onto the ground. Its wings were outstretched and the horn glowed brightly as it touched the ground. The light dissipated, and there, in the street with her hooves tinted red with blood, was Princess Celestia.
"Take a rest," she said in a silken voice as John felt something warm and yellow envelope him, "You'll be fine."
----------
John awoke in his own bed, the slanted rays of evening sun shining into his window. The first thought that crossed his mind was 'What the hell happened?'. And a good question it was, too.
He sat up in bed, throwing the sheets off to examine his ankles. The flesh looked newly mended, but not out of place. He stretched them a little to find that the tendon didn't hurt at all. That was good news.
Getting out of bed, he walked downstairs, checking carefully for any sign of the murderous ponies. Instead he found that a large white alicorn was sipping tea in his living room.
John blinked several times, waiting for the apperition to go away; it didn't. Instead it turned.
"Ah, I see you're awake," Princess Celestia said in a smooth voice, "How are your ankles?"
"B- b- b- b-," John stammered. A look of concern appeared on Celestia's face.
"Are your speech centers alright?" she asked, carefully eying the stuttering John.
"They're... Fine, I assure you, but; why are you here?" he asked, taking a seat across from Celestia.
"It's a long story," Celestia sighed, "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Um, sure," John said cautiously, "What flavor is it?"
"Hecker's Stash," Celestia poured a cup of brown liquid, suspending the cup and the kettle in her magic. "Supposed to be a blend of various herbs from Everfree."
"So you're really, well, from Equestria," John sipped the tea cautiously. It tasted warm, comforting, and predominately sweet. Celestia chuckled.
"Yes, I certainly am. I got here chasing an age old foe of mine," she looked at John with a tired face, "Shadowlarks."
"Shadowlarks?" John sipped the tea again.
"Yes," Celestia sighed, "They move in the shadows of sight. Deadly little bastards. They turn into the material of their choosing when you're looking, in your case, vinyl."
"So how did they get here?" John inquired.
"They have a nasty habit of running away through unknown portals. This detachment managed to find a portal in Everfree, one that even I didn't know about. It led here. They started replacing as many things as they could, namely My Little Pony toys. Funny like that, they always choose one theme of things to replace and replace all of it."
"Is the portal still open? Can humans go through it?" John asked, curiousity getting the better of him. Celestia chuckled under her breath.
"No, I put a lock on it, and will permanently seal it when we go back through."
"We, there's more of you?" John asked.
"Yes, there are eight of us," Celestia nodded, "In fact, here they come now." Outside the window, a swerving gray van pulled up, taking over half of the median strip in its attempt to do so. The doors opened and out piled Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, and with a very crossed look on her face, Twilight Sparkle.
They talked excitedly as they trotted up the drive, everypony seemed happy. The door burst open and they all piled in, talking loudly.
"My Little Ponies!!!" Celestia silenced the din, "Take a seat and tell me what you have observed of the human world one at a time."
The ponies exchanged glances and sat down on the floor around the living room. Celestia relaxed. Pinkie still bounced up and down, but Celestia decided to dismiss that as usual behavior. John was agape. The mane six were sitting in his living room, and they had been turned loose on the human world?!
"You start us off, Pinkie," Celestia nodded at the excited pink ball of energy.
"They've got all these things that make partying extra super fun!!" Pinkie bounced up and down excitedly, "There's this thing call Dubstep, that's fun, and all these pop stars! Also, there's this thing called a night club where everypony goes into a room and has a super duper terrific time! Oh, and they also have this thing called strip tease-"
"Where on earth were you, sugar cube?" Applejack looked at Pinkie with a certain glare.
"I read posters on the side of party buildings!" Pinkie said, smiling widely, "And there were all these nice men in the alleyway wearing trench coats, they wanted to play keep away with my head! It was FUN!"
"If you say so, sugar cube," Applejack rolled her eyes.
"How about you next, Applejack?" Celestia nodded at Applejack.
"Well, they have all these things called, let's see, farming e-qu-ip-ment, it's just a bunch of metal machines an' stuff, an' they roll them over the fields and they drop all the crops in a bin! I bet you a load of horseapples that they've got those for apple trees. Also, they've got hard cider by the gallon all over the place, wooee! I tell ya, I even brought some to show y'all," she held up a carton of beer, smiling broadly.
John groaned and put his face in his hands. Half the world probably knew about these things, and most of them would be locked up for lunacy. The next pony's turn was Rainbow.
"They've got these things that are ALMOST as awesome as the Wonderbolts," Rainbow said excitedly, "They're called the Archangels, and I hear they fly these things called F-15s!"
"Very interesting," Celestia nodded serenly, "Fluttershy?"
"Well, um, yes, they have this wonderful place called an ASPCA," she said, "Where they take care of little animals and make sure that people don't mistreat them. And they're are also these; these barbeque stands..." She broke out crying, Applejack comforted her while Rainbow edged away from the wailing mass.
"That is unfortunate," Celestia frowned, "Rarity?"
"Oh well, they have these FABULOUS fabrics, why, I couldn't help but take a sample," her horn glowed and several brightly colored sequin coated fabric. She beamed as she showed to her friends quickly tucking it back in at Celestia's request.
"And finally," Celestia turned to a red-faced Twilight, "Twilight?"
"If they would all stick together in a group, I might have had time to look at things!" she raged, everypony cringed, "Why are you all so disorganized! And you should have let me drive, Pinkie."
"Oh silly!" Pinkie threw her head back in laughter, "You don't know anything about driving!"
"You don't either!" Twilight fumed.
"But I have better intuition," Pinkie said nonchalauntly, "What DID you notice, Twi?"
"I noticed," Twilight said, slightly calmer.
"Yes?" everyone leaned closer.
"That you all never, EVER follow a clipboard!" Twilight stated.
"Well," Princess Celestia ruffled her wings, "I suppose we'd best be off. Don't want to take up anymore of this young stallion's time than we have to!" She turned to a shell shocked John, sitting on a recliner with his mouth wide open.
"What, oh," he leaped up, startled by the princess's remark, "I'm fine really, just need to catch up on a few things..."
"Alright," Celestia walked out of the door. "And I forgot to tell you," she turned, "Shadowlarks feed of discord, malice, and anger. I believe that was one of the reasons they came to your world."
Before John could reply, they were gone. A flash of light and it was over, the whole mess. He wandered back inside and made a cup of tea, still a little shocked from the experience.
He walked towards the tea pot, muttering something about all you can eat buffets for Shadowlarks, when he blinked. And suddenly the kettle was closer than he remembered.