//------------------------------//
// Chapter Two 
// Story: Kill The Lights 
// by MemoryLane 
//------------------------------//

        By no means was Alloy okay with this.

        He was not okay with the rapid thumping of his chest. He was not okay with the fact that his body was wildly shivering in anticipation. He was not okay with what the mysterious voice had told him over some kind of hidden PA system. He was not okay with this situation, with the others. He was not okay with being eyed up by these six ponies.

        No. It simply would not do.

        In the octangular room, the ponies simply stared. Nopony knew what to do, like they were glued to that same spot in front of their door. Alloy found himself doing the same. Not that he’d ever admit it, but it was due to fear. Alloy grunted to himself softly, and brought up a charcoal colored hoof to realign his thick-framed glasses.

        He needed to do something. He knew that much. This situation was serious. He heard the announcement, the truth behind E’s malignant voice. He could sense the gas in the air as soon as he’d woken up. He had a knack for sensing as such. Most certainly, only he knew the extent of E’s threats. He needed to step up, stop asking himself questions and try to get to the bottom of this before things got worse. He could see the unamusement on some of the ponies’ faces, like they were about to mutter a “whatever”, and wander back into their rooms for a nap. They could have interpreted this as some kind of joke.

        No. He couldn’t allow that. The gas was real. The situation was real. The voice was real. There were no doubts in his mind. Even still, he couldn’t answer everything. Who was this “E”? Why were they, of all ponies, chosen for this disturbed game? Where in the world were they exactly? He needed to reach out. He needed to share what he had already figured out.

        But his hooves remained still.

        Why? Why couldn’t he move? His brain was playing some kind of sick joke, urging him to stay put. It was purely psychological, his fear, but it just wouldn’t go away. It knocked on his head like a woodpecker, pounding away without remorse. The things he had already seen inside of his room scared him senseless enough. All of this beloved things inside of that dresser? The photos on top of the dresser itself? He stared at the pictures for way too long, especially the one where he was holding up a blue ribbon, and pointing at his clay volcano science project that had won him the National Equestrian Science Fair. He even wore a silly labcoat he had bought out of a magazine the week before, and some safety glasses. His classmates were patting him on the back appreciatively, smiling proudly. He never forgot that wonderful day. 

There was only one copy of that picture, and it was sitting in his room previous to this. 

Alloy had knowingly spent two hours staring at the picture, leading him to believe that--of the seven of them--he was the first one to have awaken. A quick check of the other ponies timers confirmed this.

 2 hours, 12 minutes, 17 seconds. 

Either way, Alloy was completely freaked out. Frightened, in fact. It kept him from moving, speaking. Alloy grit his teeth…

        ...and watched with disdain when he realized that he had missed his opportunity. The moment his mind gave him a green light, a small stallion had already begun to make his way towards the center of the room. Surprisingly enough, he had a boisterous smile on his face, as if this entire situation was something to be excited about. Alloy was already annoyed, and puffed out his chest, thoroughly frustrated.
        
        The stallion was a sky blue, and appeared to be extremely young. In fact, he looked like he was just barely old enough to have moved out of his parents house. He had a small spring in his step that only infuriated Alloy more. His mane was two shades: a royal blue and lavender, and it hung down, wet looking and clinging to the side of his neck. He batted his wings as he trotted, like a child.

        An unknowing, carefree child.

        The six other ponies looked left and right, before cautiously following the young stallion’s example, walking into the middle of the octagon in a straight line. It took a few ponies, like Alloy, a while to actually reach the middle. He was taking one sweet step at a time, racing his mind, thinking about just what to say. How to explain what he knows. Others, like a wild-maned white unicorn mare, reached the middle without much worry, and wasting little time.

        The young stallion didn’t even wait for the rest of the ponies to join him before he opened his impatient mouth. “So… some kind of party, huh?” he joked. The moment the stallion spoke, Alloy knew that the stallion was even younger than he had thought. He appeared to be a teenager. He was at least a head shorter than everypony else, with the tallest being an older pegasus stallion with a grumpy look on his face.

        Unsurprisingly, everypony chose to ignore him. Alloy noticed him blush. A feeble looking pegasus gave everypony a shy wave. 

“Am I the only one wondering just what the Hell is going on here?” said the wild-maned mare, loudly. Her mane was two different colors, and frankly, she looked like a punk. Black and orange, the colors of Nightmare Night. She bore at least three black earrings on each ear, and a freakishly menacing sneer. Alloy noticed that the mare’s eyes were the same color as his: a stunning light blue. Alloy wouldn’t be surprised if the mare was into loud music, tattoos, and being thrown in jail. It honestly took Alloy a second to realize that she had two drumsticks tied into the back of her mane, creating an “X”, like it was a giant wooden bow.

“‘Course not,” said a sunflower colored stallion. He had an increasingly obvious southern drawl. “Surely were not all that dense.” His colorless mane hung limply. The stallion was bulky, and caked with a thin layer of sweat. Alloy wasn’t sure if he was glaring, or if he was just groggy. Looking at the timer behind him, the stallion was the last one to awaken. 6 minutes, 31 seconds--and still counting.

“This is so messed up,” said the frail mare with wide green eyes. “This has to be some kind of joke, right? Some kind of new reality show or something?”

Alloy found himself shaking his head. 

“When I find out who this ‘E’ guy is… I’ll make it my mission to make sure that he’s taken into the authorities. This isn’t legal in the slightest,” said the grumpy looking stallion. He was a dull reddish-yellow, the same color one would see when someone left an orange out in the sun too long. He was old, at least within retiring age, and had a perfectly chopped brown mane. Alloy wasn’t sure, but he seemed a little familiar. The stallion radiated authority, and his face became increasingly stoic the more Alloy looked at him. His loud voice echoed. Alloy assumed that he was some kind of officer.

The Punk made a stupid face, giving a toothy smile similar to that of the mentally disabled. “No, really? I don’t know about you, but I get kidnapped and threatened with death every other damn week.”

While this was going on, the only pony to have not spoken--besides Alloy--was emerging from behind the yellow stallion. She had a coat the color of lilies, and a mane and tail the color of mud. They were sleek, and delicate, like it would take to the skies at any moment. Her slanted brown eyes appeared unworried, and her eyes shifted from speaker to speaker. She bore a kind, yet confused, smile. Alloy cocked his head at her. She looked… foreign. Alloy didn’t pay her much attention. Part of him wondered if the mare even understood what was going on, or what anypony was even saying.

“Let’s not argue…” said Young ‘Un, the small stallion who moved first. He didn’t appear to be able to contain his energy, and was swaying back and forth to a tune only he could hear. Perhaps he had ADHD.

“I’m not arguing,” said the Punk. “I’m pointing out just how dumb that sounded. Take a look around,” she spat. She eyed up the few others who had managed to give her eye contact. 

“That isn’t necessary,” gulped Alloy.

“We need to get out of here! Who knows how long we’ve been out? What if somepony’s looking for us?” asked Wide Eyes. Alloy thought about that, and shook his head.

“We haven’t been out for more than a day. We can only sleep for so long before hunger sets in,” Alloy explained. He pushed up his glasses. Wide Eyes sighed, and brought a hoof to her stomach. Alloy wasn’t sure if his vision was acting up, or if he could actually see her belly shivering with anticipation.

“So, what? I don’t take kindly to being drugged, or what have you. Who knows how the Hell we got here?” said the large yellow stallion, with a flick of his mane. He rolled his eyes, as if he was bored. Young ‘Un smirked upon the word “drugged”. Alloy glared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

The Punk groaned loudly, as if her mind were in a flurry. She let loose a bombardment of curses and stomped her hoof, making no effort to try and conceal her profanity from the ears of others. Wide Eyes looked at the small stallion, and Alloy wondered if she was going to place her hooves over his ears. She didn’t.

“I think the guy’s bluffing,” said Stoic Stallion, cutting off the Punk’s quick and unneeded venting. Alloy, Wide Eyes, and the Young ‘Un cocked a brow.

“Bluffing? Who?” asked Alloy. He deemed this a stupid question two seconds later.

“E, that’s who,” he said. Meanwhile, Big Yellow was nodding furiously, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Heck yeah,” he bellowed. Alloy took an uncomfortable step away, even though Big Yellow was on the other side of their little circle completely. “Some kind of trick, if ya ask me.”

Suddenly, all of Alloy’s previous thoughts came rushing back to him. The words. He could feel the sense of desperation forming inside of his stomach. He remembered, and was astonished that he hadn’t said anything yet. Inside, he felt a pang of guilt strike him in the chest. It was like somepony nailing a stake inside of him. It was his fault that everypony was panicking. He needed to explain what he knew.

“This isn’t a joke,” Alloy said, calmly. The Punk gave him a bemused glance, as if she couldn’t stand the mere sight of him. The Foreigner continued to smile. Alloy was positive that the mare didn’t speak English, now. 

“Oh yeah?” said Big Yellow. His eyes burrowed into Alloy’s like a drill. “What makes you think this isn’t some kind a’ facade?”

“I… I just know, alright?”

Alloy didn’t mean it to come out like that, and realized his grave mistake a second too late.

“You just know?” said Stoic Stallion. His gaze hardened upon Alloy, making his legs sway like a coconut tree. “How?”

        All eyes were on him. For once in his life, he didn’t like it. Wide Eyes slunk away from him, like he was the one responsible for putting them all in this situation. Though, it was only to be expected. It’s exactly what he made himself look like. He needed to correct this, before even more accusations went flying. This situation surely didn’t need to take another turn for the worse. Alloy knew that much.

        “I can smell the gas… the one he was talking about…” Alloy explained, his eyes turned towards the rug below him. He didn’t wish to repeat E’s name for his creation. If he understood root words correctly, it only made him more nervous. “I-I’m a scientist, and it’s a barely noticeable scent. I’ve never smelt it before, but it doesn’t appear healthy. This is not a joke. I can sense it.”

        “Smart guy, huh?” Big Yellow scoffed. “Right. ‘Cause I’m sure you know everything there is to know.”

        Alloy opened his mouth, then snapped it shut like it was a bears paw in a trap.

        “Hey, if the dude’s a scientist, and he’s saying that he smells chemicals and stuff… I’d listen, bro,” said Young ‘Un. One look from Big Yellow, and to the other side of the circle he went. He stood in between the Punk and Alloy, receiving a peeved stare from the former.

        “He claims he’s a scientist. I think it’s a load a’ bull,” Big Yellow added.

        Alloy turned back to the ground and sighed. He didn’t wish to argue, not with him at least. He knew the type, and had learned his lesson a long time ago. Alloy took no shame in backing down. The stallion grinned triumphantly. Since Young ‘Un moved away, the newest pony to his left was the older pegasus. He didn’t look happy about the stallion’s new sense of false accomplishment.

        “That’s mean!” whined Wide Eyes. Like the Young ‘Un, Wide Eyes also slightly reminded Alloy of a child. He didn’t like it.

        “Does it look like I care?” muttered Big Yellow.

        “Look,” started Stoic Stallion. “We are not going to make progress like this.” He tossed his head over in Alloy’s direction. “Scientist says that there’s gas. We’d better believe him. Maybe this isn’t a joke. If that’s the case, then we should take it seriously.” The Stoic Stallion’s back straightened, and he gazed coldly at the others. His frown continued, however.

        Big Yellow rolled his eyes, disrespectfully and obviously. Alloy was certain that he heard him mutter something under his breath, but Alloy didn’t catch it. 

        Young ‘Un raised a hoof, as if he was trying to answer a question in a classroom. “So… what do we do first? How do we play?”

        The Punk’s eye twitched with fury. “You have got to be kidding. Did you not hear the voice earlier, you dolt?”

        Young ‘Un blushed, and scratched the back of his neck. His mane was shiny, only confirming to Alloy that it was wet. “I heard something about not going to sleep, then I saw the door open. I didn’t hear the rest.”

        “The voice rang throughout this entire place! How in the world did you not hear?” The Punk practically yelled, her face was turning red.

        “I woke up like 45 minutes ago… I may or may not have been utilizing the bathtub.”

        “We’re getting off track,” added Alloy. The Stoic Stallion nodded.

        “Yes, we are. I’ll give you a quick rundown. You know that gas Alloy mentioned he was smelling earlier?” Young ‘Un moved his head up and down. “Well, it’s poison. The instant we fall asleep, it’ll ‘kill us’.”

        Young ‘Un nodded again in understanding. His face rivaled that of being punched in the gut. He looked a little pale. “So… don’t fall asleep?”

        “Right,” Stoic Stallion concluded. “Only one of us gets out of here alive. The only way to do that is to stay awake.” There was a long pause as everyone digested the facts. Stoic Stallion quickly fumbled for something else to add. “But I’m sure there’s something else to this. This is absolutely crazy!”

        Young ‘Un kept his mouth shut.

        “Then… what do we do now?” asked Wide Eyes. She was sliding her hoof around the rug, absently. The tip of it was becoming a light shade of rose.

        “We stay awake,” Alloy answered. His chest hardened, and he took a small step forward. “We stay awake for as long as we can.”

        Big Yellow smirked. “Well, this should be easy. All ya need is a few energy drinks,” he said. The Punk piped up.

        “Easy for you to say, you just woke up,” she snarled, venom dripping from her tongue. 

        “Besides,” Alloy interrupted. “Energy drinks are the worst way to stay awake. You’ll feel energetic for a while, but then there’s a crash. In this situation, that may be fatal…” Big Yellow’s ears drooped with realization. He gave the rest of the group a stupid glare.

        “Pfft, I’ve got this,” said the Punk with a self-satisfied look on her mug. Wide Eyes stared at her, open mouthed and disgusted. “I hardly sleep as it is.”

        The Foreigner cocked her head, but she still kept the kind smile on her face.

        Alloy ignored the Punk completely.

        “Does anybody know who this E guy is, anyways?” Young ‘Un asked, once again raising his hoof. Alloy reached over the thrust it back down to earth. He wasn’t in the mood for immaturity. His question, however, brought on an eloquent silence. Everypony in the room stared at each other, save for the Foreigner, who was busy trying to decipher the numbers on the timers. Alloy almost felt bad for her. Her mouth was turned into a frown, and she brought a hoof to it as she tried to understand the strange symbols.

        “I… I don’t think she speaks English,” he said. He had meant to repeat it in his head, but things just didn’t work out the way he wanted them to anymore. Young ‘Un cocked his head.

        “I think E’s male… and speaks perfect English,” he said. Alloy wanted to slap Young ‘Un’s face, as well as his own.

        “No! I meant her…” Alloy said, pointing a hoof at the Foreigner. Everypony turned to her. A few, such as Big Yellow and the Punk, had failed to notice her earlier, and were sizing her up already. Obviously, they viewed her as just another contender. Another enemy. Alloy felt horrible.

        Wide Eyes, who was standing directly besides her, poked the Foreigner’s side. Instead of jumping, or even acknowledging the unwanted physical contact, she plastered that same unknowing smile back on her visage and turned to Wide Eyes. Upon realizing that everypony was looking at her now, she turned the smile over to them as well. The Punk was not amused.

        “Great. Not only do we have to stay awake, but one of us needs to play ‘translator’,” she complained. She let out a hot breath, and turned away.

        “Where do you think she’s from?” asked Young ‘Un.

        “Not sure,” replied Alloy, even though it was technically a lie. “She looks Neighsian…”

        “Neighsian? But Neighsia is all the way over the ocean…” said Wide Eyes, with a soft voice.

        “We know that,” replied Big Yellow. Another eye roll.

        “If I had to take a guess…” Alloy started. He found this entire situation extremely inappropriate. His mother told him that labeling others because of their race was wrong to do. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice. “I’d say she’s from Neighpon.”

        The Foreigner may have recognized the name of the country, as her smile grew in size just slightly. The Punk threw up a hoof in her direction. “Well? Does anypony speak her language? We need to tell her that she can’t fall asleep, at least.”

        No one said a single thing. The Punk sighed. Alloy felt the subject was about the change when another voice piped up.

        “Her name is Miso,” replied Young ‘Un. He was looking far past them, to the door fifteen feet away that The Foreigner had come from earlier. Alloy followed his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t really want to. He didn’t want to know the names of these other ponies. If this game was real, he didn’t want to get too close to them. Nopony can stay awake forever. However, thanks to Young ‘Un, that wasn’t going to work now. Now he just didn’t care. In big letters, her name was spelled out: “M-I-S-O”. Her timer read 57 minutes, 44 seconds.

        “Miso?” repeated the Stoic Stallion. The Foreigner nodded, recognizing her own name. “Yep. She’s not from Equestria, all right.”

        Wide Eyes took a few steps closer to Miso, and waved her hoof over her eyes, as if Miso were under a trance. “Hello? Miso? It’s nice to meet you.”

        “Go yōsha kudasai. Wakarimasen.”

        Swallow took a shocked step back, her eyes growing just a little bit bigger. They were practically bulging. She retook her spot back inside of the circle, meekly. Obviously, Alloy viewed this as a problem.

        “She probably doesn’t even know what we’re saying,” added the Punk. Miso must have been getting nervous. Everypony’s eyes were still trained on her,  and her smile faltered for a brief moment. She took a cautious step back, towards Big Yellow.

        Alloy knew that Miso most certainly wouldn’t have stepped closer to him if she had known what he was saying earlier. “She’ll figure it out. No one here speaks her language anyways. She’s going to have to be the one to adapt, not us,” said Big Yellow, raising an eyebrow at her.

        Alloy wanted to argue, but deemed it useless. He had a point. “Well, since were doing names, and since there’s no real way to get around it...” Their names were on the doors. It’s only inevitable. “I’m Alloy.”

        The Stoic Stallion from across the circle chuckled lightly, and stepped forward. He held out a hoof. Alloy stared into his eyes, and they were absolutely beaming, as if they were full of nothing but admiration and wisdom. “Well, nice to meet you, city boy.”

        Alloy wondered to himself, Was it really that obvious he was from Manehattan?

        “My name is Gallant, Co-Flight Commander of the Royal Equestrian Army,” he said. Gallant said his words with gratification, as if he expected a few others to start ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’. No one did. Alloy shook his hoof with gusto, and a smile.

        Wide Eyes voice croaked next. “I’m Swallow,” she said. Nothing more, nothing less. Young ‘Un brought a hoof to his mouth, stifling an inappropriate laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Swallow said the words as if she’s said them a million times before. She frowned. Young ‘Un didn’t seem to notice the glare from Gallant, Big Yellow, and Alloy.

        “N-Nothing! Nothing at all!” Alloy almost believed him, until an obnoxiously loud chortle trickled past his lips. Swallow’s frown doubled in size.

        “I was named after the bird…” she said, sullenly. She looked sadly towards the ground. Upon noticing the upset tint in her voice, Young ‘Un brought down his laughter. Almost immediately after, he blushed again.

        “Eheh, sorry,” he apologized. Alloy didn’t deem this as sincere. “I’m Sketch.” He puffed out his chest. The Punk dug her hooves deeper into the rug, looking like she was ready to swing. 

        “How old are you?” asked Big Yellow. Sketch looked caught off guard by the question, and answered lamely, with his blush now painting his face the color of a stop sign. For a moment, Alloy was not looking forward to hearing the answer.

        “Seventeen.”

        There was another silence.
        
        “This is so messed up,” Swallow said again. She was on the verge of crying. “So wrong...”

        “Let’s not dwell on it,” Gallant replied. He turned towards Big Yellow, eager to change the subject. “How about you, big boy?” Big Yellow did a double take, before flicking his mane and letting out a “harumph”.

        “Name’s Buttermilk. Pretty obvious if you think about it,” he admitted, tossing a head towards his flank. Alloy concurred. Buttermilk’s cutie mark was that of a single stick of butter, and a glass of milk. The smirk on his face signified pride, Alloy deduced. He couldn’t figure out why. Buttermilk, at first glance, appeared like your average bully. Alloy knew enough about those. What was strange about Buttermilk was the unmatched amount of honesty and fear in his words. If those two traits weren’t some sort of oxymoron, then Alloy needed to go back to grade school.

        “That explains a lot…” Gallant muttered under his breath, after he noticed the cutie mark as well. Alloy held back a scoff.

        All of the ponies--save for Miso--turned towards the last one in the group. The Punk cocked an eyebrow, like she hadn’t been expecting the attention on her. “What? What are you all looking at?”

        “Well, are you going to introduce yourself or not?” asked Buttermilk, with a huff and a sharp flick of his tail. He would have snapped Miso if she was standing four inches closer. Perhaps he had heard Gallant’s comment after all, and just chose to ignore it. Alloy had a feeling that there were about to spend a lot of time together. Conflict was something he wanted to keep at bay. Unfortunately, that wasn’t on everypony else’s agenda.

        “What does it matter?” the Punk asked. Her pierced ears fell flat against her head, but her eyes burned with determination. It was as if the fire was in her eyes, as well as her stomach. “Only one of us gets out of here anyways. Not like we’re all a team here. One versus all!”

        “Miss-” Swallow tried to intervene. Alloy could tell that the fragile mare was going to get shot down by the Punk moments before it actually happened.

        “‘Miss’ nothing!” she hollered. “You’re all insane! Sick in the head!” 

        “Calm down!” Gallant shouted. Alloy could feel the stallion’s blood boiling even from their distance. Alloy suddenly felt warmer.

        “You’re all crazy!” the Punk continued. Alloy could tell, under her rough demeanor, that she was scared beyond belief. He could see clearly through her desperate front. “Why are you all acting all buddy-buddy when your lives are on the line? Poindexter here just proved the gas to be in our systems!” she said, throwing a hoof towards Alloy a pony over to her left. Alloy’s eyes hardened.

        “Do not call me that!” he yelled back. Surprisingly, the Punk didn’t respond to his plea. She just continued her rant, infuriating Alloy more.

        “This is ridiculous! We could all die, and your biggest concern is names! We should be trying to figure a way to win! To stay awake. We’re all enemies to everyone else, here. I’m not dying because of you losers.”

        “Dear Celestia, will you shut up for two seconds, you disrespectful case of modern indecency!” Alloy shouted, speaking before thinking.

        The room was dead silent. Nopony spoke. Sketch’s jaw was practically on the floor, along with a few others. Alloy knew his had made another mistake. The Punk’s face was a bright red, and her cheeks flared. Her eyes were enough to melt glaciers. Alloy didn’t care. “Everything that has come out of your mouth so far has been nothing but negative! We all understand the situation! We all understand what’s going on! Do not act like some kind of superior simply because you have the guts to say whatever’s on your mind. It is not for certain that you will win this game, or leave with your life.”

        He paused to run a hoof through his mane and sigh. He didn’t realize that his glasses were quickly becoming smudged and unaligned. “Six of us are not going to make it out of here. That’s the rules, that’s the only way the last one of us can go home to our families and friends. We’re all stressed, we’re all scared, we’re all wondering just how this will transpire. Do you wish to die on a bad note, miss? Or would you at least rather die knowing that these other contenders will at least know your name. Do you wish to die without anypony knowing who you are? The one of us who gets out of here won’t be able to tell others just who in Tartarus you are. Do you wish to die a nobody to us? The last ponies you may ever socialize with? Is that what you want?”

        There was another long pause. Even Miso’s smile was wiped off her face. Swallow stared at the ground, trying not to make eye contact. Sketch bit the inside of his mouth. Gallant watched on with a grin. Buttermilk was holding back a smile of his own. Slowly, ever so slowly, the Punk’s face returned back to its original milky color. She grunted loudly, but didn’t look Alloy in the eye.

        Alloy immediately felt apologetic. He didn’t mean to say those things. He wasn’t a mean pony. Unfortunately, the logical side of him was burning. That little string had been on fire for the last few minutes, and it was all because of this mare. He knew he had won. He knew he had made a grand point. He just wished that he would have thought a little before blowing up.

        The Punk spoke through gritted teeth, like she had just rammed her shin into a coffee table seconds before. “Tenor,” she grunted. “My name is freakin’ Tenor.”