The early sun had thrown its light onto the leafy canopy of Stan’s baoblock, spitting speckles of green light filtered through the leaves creating a maze of green on the flat’s wooden floorboards.
The alarm woke up Stan.
He got up.
Had a shower.
Got ready to go out to town to eat.
As Stan was about to leave, Yesterday’s pendant caught his attention on the table.
He picked it up once again and had a good look at it.
The thing was beautifully fashioned but it looked unfinished, as if there was another half of it somewhere out there in the world.
“Hmmm… I guess it looks nice but I've never been a fan of jewelry”
Stan threw the thing right in between the sofa’s cushions, embedding it deep within the furniture and thought nothing of it
Stan would have taken the lift if it weren't for the fact that it was broken.
“The stairs it is”
Living on the 32nd floor had its disadvantages sometimes but Having wings sure helped.
Stan jumped out of the stairs and onto the thick pillar of air, plummeting down onto ground floor and landing with a hard thump.
“Morning!”
The caretaker waved back.
It was time to eat.
Stan was eager to try out that new place in town, he had heard that Pinkamena.inc had opened up a new fun and party joint not 5 minutes away from where he lived.
“Just as expected from Pinkamena.inc…”
Even from the outside one could see that this place was huge… party balloons, slides and such a strong taste of fun in the atmosphere that one could cut it with a cheese knife… and the knife would wedge.
Considering the high number of changeling inhabitants, it was customary for ponies and griffons (and sometimes dragons) to visit dinner plazas to eat in the morning and have fun to brighten up their mornings to keep them going for the rest of the day, the arcades and various attractions being free of course, as the owners of the plazas made money from changelings who payed an entrance fee to come in and feed off the strong emotions in the atmosphere.
Pinkamena.inc’s fun plazas were by far the most popular fun spot, after all, its hard to compete with a business that’s existed for hundreds of years.
Of course the bouncers who controlled who went in and out were always changelings, after all only a changeling can recognise another changeling and the fact that transforming into other ponies was illegal now didn't stop some from trying.
Stan couldn't wait to get inside, he was going to get his fill today.
“That will be 15 bits, how would you like to pay sir?”
“Credit card”
Stan took out credit card from his saddle bag.
The bouncer took out a little electronic box and slit the machine’s wrist with the thing.
Normally a ding would announce the payment but this time, no ding.
“I’m sorry sir but credit has been rejected”
“What?”
How come? he had over 4,000 bits in his account…
“May I see my card please?”
The bouncer gave him the card.
Stan wiped it, maybe all it needed was some cleaning.
“Sir, I don’t think that will help”
“Just try it”
“All, right”
Once again, no ding.
“I’m sorry sir, either your credit card has been blocked or you have run out of funds in your account”
“That can’t be right”
“Either way sir, if you cannot afford to pay the entrance fee I’m afraid that we can’t let you enter, of course if you prefer we accept in cash”
Stan was grossly cross, he was looking forward to this so much, especially his stomach that was now grumbling… and hunger was the one thing that every changeling was extra sensitive about because if one dies of hunger, they disappear.
Stan sighed.
“Fine, I’ll go somewhere else”
But nowhere did Stan find that his card was accepted, this couldn't have been a coincidence, something had happened with his accounts, maybe somepony stole the money…
Stan had to get to the bottom of this but he was out of time.
As mad as he was right now, he had to admit defeat and go to work or else he’s going to be late and that’s the last thing he wanted on his official first day at work.
“I’m sorry Mr. Stanley but I’m afraid that we can’t hire you”
“What? why!”
“Well, during the interview yesterday you failed to mention your criminal record”
“Criminal record?!? what criminal record?”
This was outrageous, Stan didn't have any criminal record, in fact he was the nicest, politest and most law abiding citizen in his entire town! he had never even as much as jaywalked.
“Please Sir, let’s leave this while we’re at a high note”
“High note? HIGH NOTE? what high note, You've barely hired me yesterday, this is my first day at work and you’re already firing me!? I didn't do anything, I couldn't do anything even if I wanted!”
“I’m sorry but we cannot afford to hire somepony of your… stature”
“I have a perfect stature!”
Stanley’s ex-boss took a deep breath, this was going to be a tricky one.
“Your criminal record show-”
“You're not listening, I have no criminal record, I’m as damn clean as those windows!”
Stan pointed at the immaculate state of the office’s windows.
The boss sighed, it was going to have to be the hard way after all as he began to read Stan’s record.
“2 cases of Grand theft carriage, 1 case of domestic violence and at least a dozen cases of fraud and you have the nerve to tell me that I’m lying!”
“I-”
“I recommend that you leave at once”
“But-”
“I INSIST” his now ex-boss's voice boomed through the room
Stanley, as livid as he was, had no choice but to leave the premises.
“Great, I might as well go home now”
As Stan said, Stan did but once he had reached his floor at home he had noticed something peculiar and worrying…
the door to his flat was wide open, its entrails spilled out onto the corridor.
Stanley rushed in without thinking, what he found was leftovers of what he recently called his flat, everything toppled over, smashed and broken.
Stanley’s rage peaked and had to come out somewhere and it found a nice little wall to the side to buck a hole in.
The wall took it surprisingly well, but Stanley didn’t.
“What the hell! my money is gone! I can’t eat! I was fired before I could even work and now somepony trashed my place! WHO THE HELL DOES THIS!”
A quiet whisper replied to his command.
They were looking for something
“Wha- who’s there!”
Under the sofa
It was a strange voice, nothing could describe it it didn't even seem something that a pony could give off or anything else in the world that could talk, and guessing the gender of the thing that was talking to him was impossible, all one could say about it was that it was… a voice and figuring out where it came from was impossible, its as if his mind heart it, not his ears.
“I can hear you! if you don’t come out right now I’ll call the police”
Under the sofa
Stanley wasn't sure if he could trust the voice, so far being a goody two shoes didn't work out too well for him.
“Might as well, like it’ll get much worse than this”
Stanley bucked the sofa aside, it was all broken up anyway at this point and he began to go through the debris that was uncovered.
The pendant that stanley left on the table was lying motionless but he reckoned that this was what the voice was referring to as it was the only thing that that was in one piece in his entire flat.
Stanley picked up the thing only to realize the little mark that was embedded on the floor where the pendant was but a moment ago.
The mark began to slowly grow, like some sort of plant, wrapping its vine around the neighbouring floorboards and smoke began to rise from the tattooed floor.
Run
“No argument there”
Stanley put on the pendant and dashed to the door.
Through the window or you’ll die
Stan stopped at once, the floor was now ablaze, what was he doing? trusting something as sinister as that voice?
it seemed that the changeling won’t make it, just as he was about to smash through the window an explosion of an immense magnitude had helped to slingshot Stan through the glass and out into the air along with an impressive amount of debris from not only his flat but from most of his neighbors.
The shock-wave instantly coursed through Stan’s cells, whacking his lights out.
Stanley, Stanley!
Stanley felt the wind pressing against his face but it felt so peaceful, he didn't want to wake up, he just wanted to rest.
Wake up ya knob!
The sudden derogatory whip of the voice smacked him back into this world.
Stanley was out for just a few seconds but it was already enough to have him reach terminal velocity, the world was approaching Stanley and it was approaching him fast and above him a cascade of furniture and large smoldered bits of wood that was once the flats on his floor were awaiting to sandwich him with the ground that wasn't all that far away from him now.
Stan was still in shock, he couldn't think all he could taste was fear… his fear and he didn't know what to do about it.
Fly
That’s right! Stan had wings, he remembered now, not all was lost, Stan put them to some good use, but the explosion had made its mark on him, a changeling’s wings are a fragile thing, anything can harm them, especially something like an explosion.
“I gotta try!”
Stan’s wings may have been close to unusable but ponies say endangering somepony’s life is the best recipe for a miracle.
Stan had never felt so much pain in his life, wings shouldn't bend that way, but screw wings, he had his life to worry about.
The wings were not good enough to keep Stan up in the air but they were good enough for him to slow down to safer speeds and to have some control over the direction of his fall.
That roof
Stan looked to his left down below, indeed a roof was rising before his eyes, he had to act now ot it will be too late
“I see it!”
The changeling saw what the voice had in mind, it was a small two storey building, the flat rooftop was perfect for crash landing.
Stan flapped like there was no tomorrow.
“I’ll make it!”
The debris
Stan looked up.
The one thing he hadn't thought about was that he was falling slower now… but the wooden debris wasn't and there was one right in his path.
Faster
“I know”
Faster!
“I know!”
The debris was now dangerously close to him.
“COME OOONNNN!!!”
Stan smashed into the flat rooftop and barrel rolled into a stationary position.
He made it.
A deafening rustle of smashes and shouts had greeted the city streets below.
A second after he had taken his breath and realized that he was still alive and the instant rush of dopamine hit him.
“YESS! TOLD YOU I WAS GONNA MAKE IT! WOOOOOO!”
His shout echoed above all else but Stan, moments later had realized what had just happened.
“Oh my god, the civilians!”
Something told Stan no to look down, but there was something inside him, something that was telling him: go on! you've never seen anything like this, have a look!
Stanley gave in to his curiosity and looked down.
He regretted doing that instantly.
The street was bedlam, the flats were spread out across the cobbled streets, blood here and there, splattered, some ponies trying to get out alive, others trying to find their limbs which were long gone under the enormous wooden chunks and others trying to help.
One of the ponies happened to see Stan.
Perhaps it was just the shock talking or maybe it was Stan’s incredibly badly timed cheer that got the pony to point at him and say
“It’s him! he did it!”
Stan wanted to sort out this misunderstanding before it gets out of hand but was interrupted by the voice.
Don’t bother, they’ll make sure the mud stays on your name
“They? who’s they?”
The ones who did this, they want you dead…
“What? who’d want to kill me! I didn't do anything!”
Listen to me, in 24 hours I will die, you have to find Cynthia if you want to save me and yourself
“Where is she?”
That’s a good question
Stanley had found himself in a sticky situation, yesterday his life looked promising and now he's out on the streets chased by unknown ponysonas who want him at the bottom of the river and he has 24 hours to find somepony named Cynthia.