//------------------------------// // Luster Star // Story: The Foalish Zone // by DuskShadowBrony //------------------------------// Mondays. Why did it have to be Monday? Oh, there’s readers? Right. Hello! For all intents and purposes you may refer to yours truly as the one and only ‘Luster Star’, seeing as how my real name is null and void here. Oh, I must be boring you with this, you just want the story. Suits me. Hmm, I’m pretty sure I could make a joke there but I’ll save it for later. It’s horrible, too. Back to the actual story… Monday. Why did it- Okay, skip that part. The alarm buzzes annoyingly, so I wake up, get out of bed -rather hesitantly-, and drag a comb across my head to neaten my hair. With a yawn, I go downstairs and take the leftover pizza from the fridge, setting the slices on a plate and microwaving the stuff. Between the time it takes to microwave it and take them out, I pour myself a strong coffee with milk. With a light *ding* signaling the pizza to be done, I open the microwave doors, removing the heated food and slamming it closed again as I headed to the living room. The living room is devoid of any strong source of light, as per my usual routine. I set the plate down on the coffee table along with the appropriately named beverage, switching them out for the remote. From my current actions, one would assume that I am a stereotypical couch potato; obese, sloppy, and lazy beyond all belief. In reality, I’m quite slim, keep a clean house, and a productive procrastinator. Actually, ignore that last adjective. With the click of a button and a buzz of energy, my television sputters to life and gives me a glimpse into how sad our society is. That meaning that the channel it was tuned to happened to be Fox News. I hate stupid. Of course, I just watch it to complain about the reporting. Ah, thank the world for heckling. When I finish the painful drivel that is newscasting, I clean up my plates and coffee mug, setting them in the sink and running some water over them. Note to self: clean dishes tomorrow. I turn the water off and go upstairs for a quick shower. I trudge up the flight and stop by a mirror, grinning into it. “Hello, sir,” I chuckle, pretending to straighten a suit and brush off some dust. “How’ve you been?” I reply to myself. “Quite well, thank you. How was your morning?” I ask. I have to find new ways to please my ego. Really, I do. “Wonderful. I just defeated hundreds of battle droids and stormtroopers while piloting a crashing battlecruiser!” “Heh,” I chuckle. “I envy your exploits. Keep inflating that sense of self-worth!” I say as I step away from the mirror, entering my bathroom for a quick shower. Cleanliness is worth it for hot showers. Oh, I love them. Ten minutes later, I step from my vapor infested bathroom, towel hanging around my waist in a makeshift kilt. I grab a comb from the countertop and step in front of the mirror again, brushing my hair out and checking my teeth simultaneously. “Life’s a piece of crap, ain’t it?” I ask my reflection. “Thats only because you don’t know how to have fun,” the reflection replied, it’s pupils turning red. I blink, “Wh… huh?!” “Oh, that’s a priceless face! Here, let me show you,” it replied, shifting into a rather goofy, confused expression. I back up, dropping my comb, the plastic brush clattering to the floor. “The hell is this?!” I shout. “Oh you know, it’s just a bit of shapeshifting,” it responded with a small shrug. “Rather easy for me.” “Shape… what? I don’t… what?!” I scream, tripping backward over my feet. My head slams into the stair banister, stunning me. My vision blurry, I looked up to see a brown mass of something slither from the mirror. That is not natural. I must’ve really knocked my head. The same red pupils closed the distance between us, stopping mere inches from my face. I smelled chocolate and some sort of flavored sugar, probably cotton candy or whatever. I must have really hit my head, because I could swear it was friggin’ breathing into my face. “I must be dreaming,” I say, only half aware I’m actually speaking. Unconsciousness was closing in fast, and I reached back to feel the back of my head. I put my hand in front of my face and made out the red stain in my palm. “Damn,” I groan, darkness closing in on me. I didn’t feel my head hit the floor. Time passed -I hope-, albeit slowly. Either that or at super-speed, I wouldn’t know. Never been unconscious before. I blinked the spots out of my eyes, but immediately regretted it. Light shone into my face at such a blinding frequency that I raised an arm to shield my retinas. Was I in some sort of hospital? Wait, but there’s a warm breeze, and… flowers? I smell flowers. Why? I lowered my arm, turning away from the light. Green filled the side of my vision. Grass? The hell?! I’m in a damn field! No, there’s rose bushes around me. Or is that more grass with red splotches? Red splotches… my head! I reach back to touch the base of my skull, but I feel like I slam a rock into my neck. OW! I bring my hand to my face, expecting to see a good amount of blood coating my fingers, but all I see is a large, grey stump. HOLY CRAP I LOST MY HAND?!?!?! Oh, crap! Don’t panic, don’t spazz out too much! Who cares, I already am! I breathe deeply and slowly, calming down. I roll to my stomach and push myself up to my hands and knees, or that was what I thought, at least. I looked to my other arm and found the exact same image of a grey stump. I would have very nearly collapsed right then and there if I hadn’t looked up. There were five… horses, or… things, standing in front of me, some looking at themselves with what I could assume was the same level of alarm and panic. That was it. That was the last straw. I was too overwhelmed, and, so, I passed out again.