//------------------------------// // 01 - Entry Wounds // Story: Outsider's Game: Turning Wheel // by Bluecho //------------------------------// Ch. 01 - Entry Wounds She first became cognizant of warmth. A casual, pleasing sensation bathing her skin. Next came chirping, from somewhere nearby, and a gentle breeze wafting across her brow. Leaves rustled in the wind. A strand of hair fell because of the breeze, and she moved a hand up to manage it, absentmindedly. This effort made the girl cognizant of two more things. First, that the leather stitched to her face was still there. The second was the squirming, biting ache shooting up her arm when it was forced into action. She sucked air, cringing in alarm, then settled once more as memory flooded back. She clutched her mask, feeling it against her fingers, then let it drop to the ground. Inside her arm, hand, and shoulder, the squirming continued, before stilling. Across the rest of her body, her involuntary body tension elicited further twinges. These too settled, yet seemed more rigid than before. Prepared to move as needed. The girl sighed sadly. The parasites were awake. And Painwheel was perfectly aware of them again, her drowsiness banished. The living weapon lay on her side, feeling the warm rays above, the cool grass below, and the offensive sensations within. There was a dull ache on the side in contact with the ground, and instinct suggested to turn over, lest she suffer bed sores. Not that she was on a bed, she noted, slowly fingering blades of grass. But Painwheel knew if she tried, the Gae Bolga would protest, and she was hardly in the mood to bear such discomfort. It was too early in the... What time of day was it exactly? Braving a turn of the head, she directed her closed eyes upward and noted the redness that accompanied light moving as it could through her lids. It was uncomfortable – for more reasons than one – so she turned back to the ground. Midday, she guessed, or thereabouts. Not that it mattered. Painwheel wanted more than ever to just maintain her position, unmoving as manageable, and let the world beyond her flesh tend to its own affairs. Just let me sleep, she thought, eating more pain so as to cover her eyes with her hand. I could almost trick myself into believing I'm still in my bed. That none of it happened. She shook her head, braving the resulting crinks of the neck and pain. It was no good thinking about it. Just stay still, and let blissful sleep take hold. An indeterminate amount of time passed before Painwheel sighed. She wanted so much to alleviate that ache at her side, to turn over. But then the parasites and her moving them around would abuse her nerves further. And there was no turning over anyway, what with the Buar Drive on her back. She issued the mental command, and the mechanical device connected to her spine shook, the blades tilting a bit. This at least caused little pain. But doing that killed exactly five seconds of her attention before the persistent ache caught it again. Painwheel sighed more loudly, then slammed her hand down on the ground, wincing at the duel pain in her arm and her eyes at the light. She wasn't going to get any sleep at that rate, so she decided not to bother. As she climbed to her hands and feet, she realized she didn't remember when or where she'd lost consciousness in the first place. Where had she passed out, and why was it outside? Painwheel blinked, adjusting to the light. She looked around, raising the Buar Drive on her back so its cross-shaped blades moved with her back, like a cumbersome metal tail. A meadow of green grass and colorful flowers surrounded her, hilly and lit by an unobstructed sun. A tree was nearby, casting inviting shade beneath it. The girl took in the sight. What pretty flowers, she thought, marveling at their lively hues. She still didn't know where she was, nor remember what she'd been doing before her nap. But better to wake in such a field than in the lab. Painwheel breathed deeply, letting her body relax, which thankfully caused the Gae Bolga to loosen. She could almost stand the dull ache, standing as she was. “Mommy! Mommy! We're here! We're here!” “Alright, dear, I'm coming.” The voices shocked Painwheel to attention, causing her to turn around. People? Here? Her heart raced in alarm, setting those damnable parasites to attention. And the content of the vocalizations...they were so familiar... Two people came over the hill. Painwheel stiffened, but then blinked in confusion. Scratch it, they were equines. Horses. No, two ponies. An excitable bouncing colt, baby blue fur, and a satchel-ladden mare, dull pink. Such a singularly unusual sight arrested Painwheel's movement in surprise. Of course, animal people weren't uncommon in Canopy Kingdom. Carol lived – or rather, Painwheel had lived – next door to a family of talking, anthropomorphic dogs. The father was a banker; he wore a suit. So the existence of talking animals wasn't out of the question. But talking, pastel-colored ponies? That was new on her. The little one began tugging on his mother's foreleg. “Come on! It's right here!” He looked over, expecting to take in the sight. What he found was Painwheel. “Alright settle down,” the mare said, shaking her head. She noted his sudden stop, striking a bemused grin. “Oh I know it's a beautiful sight, isn't...” She looked up too, also locking eyes on the most interesting sight around. Her smile died. Profound dread shot through Painwheel, tightening her chest. Her heart raced. She squirmed under those staring eyes, frozen as they were. The three stood on the hill, taking in each other. Moving nary a muscle between them. A few meters distant, the birds in their tree fell silent. They too sensed tension in the air. Painwheel tried to step backwards, but as her foot landed the still-stiff angle clicked audibly. Too distracted, Painwheel lost her footing and stumbled to one knee. She grunted loudly, made no softer by the preceding silence. The colt yelped, sinking closer to his mother, who gasped, wrapping her leg around him protectively. The human looked to them, shaking with pain. The ponies started backing up slowly. “Wait!” choked Painwheel, her voice hoarse and harsh. She extended a hand, wincing at the pain in her flesh. “Mommy I'm scared!” the colt sobbed, keeping his wide, huge eyes on the bizarre amalgam of flesh and metal and pain. “S-stay back!” yelled the mare, pulling her son along as they tried to add distance. It wasn't going well. It was going like every other time. They were afraid. Painwheel knew they had every right to be. Unwashed, bony figure; tattered qipao barely concealing muscles accented by black, sickly veins. Heavy iron manacles on her wrists and ankles. Terrifying leather mask, and possibly more terrifying cross-shaped rotating blades attached by a coil of metal sticking out her back. Bright red eyes, and nails in her shoulders, thighs, and head. Technically they weren't nails, but rather extensions of the parasites in her body, but they looked like nails, and that was just plain damn creepy. In fact, plain damn creepy described Painwheel perfectly, a fact she hated. She rose up to her feet again, reaching out again. “I don't...” “MONSTER!” the mare shrieked, losing all composure. She lifted the boy and threw him onto her back. As the colt frantically clung to his mother, she bolted. “Monster! Somepony help! Monster!” Painwheel gasped, faltering. She watched the ponies flee, a heavy weight forming in her chest. “No...” she whispered, frowning behind her thick mask. “No please...” She collapsed to her hands and knees, gripping the grass with trembling digits. Her entire body shook, wet sobs issuing from her mouth. “Not again...please not again...no...” Painwheel remembered. Remembered what she was doing before. Hours Ago It had taken all night and into the morning, but she didn't care. She'd done it. Carol had found her way home. She couldn't be more excited. She'd done it. Everyone who stood in her way? Kicked aside. Many had tried to challenge her, but they went down. Even Filia...poor Filia. No, Carol shook her head. She was going to be happy. She beat everyone up, all the annoying, loud, boorish freaks. All the fools gunning for that prize. Even the nurse that made her this way went down. That bitch. Shook off Brain Drain's control; his presence in her mind long since pushed out, without any sign of further attempts to regain control. Wherever he was, it wasn't Carol's problem. She wasn't his slave anymore. Even the Skullgirl was dead. Painwheel had taken pleasure in cutting into her, smashing that maid's bones. Tearing away every ounce of the shell housing her core, the Skull Heart. It had promised her anything, offered to fulfill any wish. But Painwheel didn't bite. It had ruined her life, simply by being the prize others sought and became monsters doing it. It got the business end of her fist, damn Skull Heart. Illusion my ass, she thought. I don't need you. I'm free, and my parents are waiting. I just know it. Rounding the bend, she could make out the familiar landmarks of her suburban neighborhood. She traced the path down the street, and saw it. Her house, the lights still on. Carol's wretched feet carried her forward, her heart leaping for joy. After the lab, after the fights, after the experiments, after the mind control, after all that pain...it was over. I'm free! I'm home! She knocked at the door, then walked in. Carol saw them; her mom and dad were there. As she stepped into the doorway, they saw her too. “Mom, Dad...” Carol said, calling out to them. “...It's me.” The two recoiled in horror. “M-MONSTER!” her father shouted. Beside him, her mother held up her arm defensively. Carol held her hand up. No! No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go! She tried to speak, but nothing came out. “GET OUT OF HERE, MONSTER!” he scowled, wrapping his big arm around his wife, putting her behind him. Sweat fell down his face, and that of his wife. Carol's heart collapsed. The emotion was more agonizing than any pain of the flesh she'd experienced. She ran. Carol ran as far and as hard as her legs could carry her. Eventually, the strain of running became too much. The entire day previous had been a slog, physically exhausting and mentally draining. Add a night of walking and now her run, and Carol couldn't do it anymore. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping and huffing and sobbing as she went. When she could force a big enough breath into her lungs, she released a tortured scream. She didn't know where she stopped, didn't know what she might disturb. She didn't care. She screamed and screamed, crying out at such volume that heaven itself would tremble. Her throat burned, another pain to add to her plentiful inventory. “AAAAAAHHH!” It wasn't fair. She did everything right. She even killed the Skullgirl like she was created to. She payed her dues, suffered for everyone else. Suffered more than her fair share for the fight against the world-destroying bitch. Even fought her own best friend. And in the end, why can't she just have her life back? Why? “Why! WHY WHY WHY! AAAAAAAAHHHH!!!” she screamed, pounding the ground with her fists. She struck the ground one last time, then left herself there, trembling. “...why couldn't they see me...?” A strangled sob escaped her lips, muffled further by leather. Despair. A sadness so deep it collapsed in on itself and turned into a black hole. Painwheel knelt there, sinking in it. She felt like just letting it swallow her. Then she felt that familiar, mercurial intelligence creeping up to her. Pulling at her mind. It's voice came out, clear as it was demonic. “Painwheel, return to Lab Zero – we have much to discuss.” Brain Drain didn't entreat into her mind any further. He stayed there, just at the gate, looking in. Painwheel realized what he was doing. She threw his commands, his programming, off the first time. He decided to eschew another takeover; abandon a greater investment of mental resources whose payoff was uncertain. No, this was not an order. It was an offer. And damn him, because he'd probably waited for just such a moment to make it. Damn him. Damn Brain Drain. Damn that bastard, and the nurse, and the maid, and damn the Skull Heart. I TOLD YOU. NOTHING HAS CHANGED. Painwheel could feel another presence. But this didn't come from outside, and it wasn't the cool, collected malice of Brain Drain. It came from within, and was darker. Deader. Utterly empty. Painwheel felt it in her blood. YOUR LIFE IS RUINED. MISERABLE. IT'S THEIR FAULT. LAB ZERO. She hadn't destroyed the Heart. It was inside her. Latched onto the Skullgirl blood she was infused with. Could Brain Drain hear the Skull Heart in her head? She didn't know. All she knew...was that she couldn't disagree. I'LL MAKE THE OFFER AGAIN. I CAN GIVE YOU WHAT YOU DESIRE. There was nothing inside. No point in anything. Carol...Carol had nothing. Was nothing. She might as well be dead. WHAT IS IT YOU WANT? Before she could even properly digest the question, Painwheel felt the ground give way underneath her. Weight lost all meaning, then pulled her down. She gasped, looking up at a rapidly shrinking hole in the... Painwheel looked around, back and forth from her egress point. She saw plenty, and had no idea what any of it was. She had once read that long ago, seafarers of a greater civilization touched down on new lands, and encountered the natives. The natives, never having seen sailing ships before, looked upon them with utter confusion. Their brains, without reference points, could make neither heads nor tails of the visual information being supplied. They couldn't begin to describe or even comprehend what they saw, though a seafaring vessel would not have been their first guess. Painwheel witnessed a panorama of colors and shapes. Kaleidoscopic visions swimming before her eyes without rhyme or reason; without scale or perspective. As she tried to focus, the blurs shifted to a series of shapes, ones she could only take in a bit at a time. She looked “up”, back to where she had been, only to see an expansive circle shrinking away from her. No, not a circle, a sphere. Painwheel could see many spheres around her, or strings of spheres like beads. But they were spheres that weren't spheres, shapes that seemed to shift and change, not as a process of time but as a function of attempting to discern what the hell they were given her experience with only three spatial dimensions. Painwheel clutched her head, screaming. She couldn't be entirely sure she was making any noise. Or indeed if she wasn't hearing sounds that her mind refused to process for its own sanity. It could already be loud as hell, and she'd never hear anything. QUICKLY MISERABLE ONE. WHAT IS YOUR WISH? Except that apparently. The call of the Skull Heart shook her from the existential horror, which was helpful because Painwheel suspected she had been going mad. MAKE YOUR WISH NOW, BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE. Painwheel looked “down”, towards the approximation of her current heading. It was another sphere, expanding fast and coming right towards her. Her heart raced, her breathing intensified. Was there even air? WHAT IS YOUR WISH? The sphere grew to encompass her entire field of vision. WHAT IS YOUR WISH? She could see a hole in space. She was right upon it. WHAT IS YOUR WISH WHAT IS YOUR WISH WHAT IS YOUR It was like hitting the surface of a pool during a belly flop. If the water was shards of glass that cut through the soul. The presence of the Skull Heart was ripped from her body, her circulatory system being pulled at. Blood, veins, heart pulled one way, inertia sending the rest of her the other. Painwheel screamed. Or probably did. It didn't matter. She tasted colors, and blacked out. The girl shook from head to toe. She remembered everything now. There were even a few shapes she saw in that freaky color tunnel she swore she could remember vividly. Not that she had either the ability or inclination to describe them in words. Painwheel knelt on the ground. Again. Ever since she became...Painwheel...she had spent a curiously large amount of time low to the ground. It felt appropriate. The slave, the penitent, the lowly wretch. She just knelt there, thinking back to her parents, to Brain Drain, to the Skull Heart. To Valentine the Nurse Ninja. To Filia. Now she had nothing. She was in a strange place, with nowhere to go, and none of it made sense. Actually no, she took it back, looking back up. She could just make out the pink mare carrying her son in the distance. They fled into the edge of a small, colorful town. Rich in pastels. Civilization. Pony civilization. Reexamining her situation, Painwheel had to admit, shitty as it was, there were aspects that still made perfect sense. Birds, trees, meadows full of flowers? Those made sense. Talking ponies? Again, they were unusual in her experience, but she'd seen stranger things just walking around New Meridian. Talking ponies made sense, at least as far as it went. That they flee, seeing her as a monster? That made sense. And she still felt pain. A lot of it. That definitely made sense. Painwheel rose to her feet groggily. In addition to the hurt coming from her parasites, her body felt weak. She'd been in no fair shape after the Skullgirl; she had far less now. But what she did have was new clarity. The Skull Heart, for all its shit, had spoken wisdom. It was right again, she realized, thinking back. Nothing changed. Her life still in shambles. Still lost, still alienated from her parents, the rest of humanity, and her own better nature. Even if she found her way across the country or as far physically as one could ever get from the world, she was still in a world that cared nothing for her. Setting changed, but the plot remained. “Same shit...” Painwheel said, taking a tentative step forward, “different day.” One thing had changed, though. The Skull Heart was gone. So was Brain Drain. Those avenues were apparently closed. She couldn't even properly give into despair anymore; the Skull Heart had been ready to facilitate that, but couldn't anymore. Painwheel wasn't in the mood to despair anymore. The moment was ruined. Painwheel felt tired. Her stomach growled. The nearby birds in the tree took flight in surprise. Painwheel was tired, and also hungry. She started walking in earnest towards the town. I wonder if the ponies have anything to eat. She felt numb too. But only emotionally.