//------------------------------//
// Fading 
// Story: Hollow Shades 
// by Dilos1 
//------------------------------//

	For what seemed to Angela like a small eternity she wandered aimlessly through the trees, barely putting any thought or effort into avoiding them as she floated along. She felt in the back of her addled brain that she had been doing that quite a lot lately; no direction or destination in mind, and no real idea of what to do, and no purpose except to go away and try to forget herself. 

The sun was now high in the sky, its rays shining down on the wayward wraith, highlighting the injuries she had sustained during her fight with that hydra, making them become plainly obvious on her pale leathery skin. She was covered with deep gashes and wounds inflicted by the creatures' teeth, most notably where it had bitten her along her spine. Her open wounds ached and throbbed, and they stung severely from being exposed to the open air. while they did not feel particularly life threatening to her, Angela at least had the sense of mind to worry about an infection occurring, wondering if the hydra might have been packing some sort of bacteria or venom in its mouths. Not that there was anything she could really do about it in her situation. She had little knowledge regarding medicinal plants, and she doubted any creature she came across would feel obligated to assist her. 

This left her the option to just go in a straight line and find a place to hopefully heal from her injuries. It was a painful and arduous process, with very movement sending a jolt of discomfort through her body. Her only comfort right now was that the agony that she had felt in the side of her head had finally died down, allowing her to regain something that at least resembled a coherent thought process. For the first time in what felt like forever, Angela could finally think again without the constant feeling of painful static in her head. It had unfortunately not disappeared completely, as it still remained as a dull throbbing sensation, but Angela felt it was something to be grateful for.

However it did not help that the first pangs of hunger began to make themselves known to her, coming in the form of a protesting midsection and quivering limbs. But despite her discomfort, Angela honestly did not think that she could stomach very much at the moment, if anything at all. In hindsight, maybe she should have stayed to at least clean up the mess she made. That would have at least stayed her hunger. But after everything that had happened, from the incident involving the ponies and griffon to the hydra, even the very thought of eating was made highly unappealing to her at the moment.

Angela was confident the feeling would eventually pass and fade away however. Her instinctual need to feed, much stronger given her wraith body, would take over again, and once more she would become a captive of her own body as it drove her onward to mindlessly kill again and again and again. . . 

The only thing Angela felt that was stronger than her hunger, for the time being anyway, or her self loathing was how tired she was. She felt exhausted, not just from running around all over the place and losing her mind, but from the sheer emotional turmoil she experienced in the last couple of days. She could barely keep herself airborne as her weariness continued to weigh down on her. She was less than a few feet off the ground, and her tails dragged behind her, creating shallow canyons in the soil in her wake. But still she kept moving forward, the only objective on her mind to find a quiet spot, isolated from everything that could potentially bother her to rest and heal from her injured body and mind.

And after that. . . 

Angela did not know. She could not think of anything that could help her. 

The ponies undoubtedly knew of her existence now, so it was pretty much pointless to travel to the North as she had originally planned. But she could not linger here either, or she would eventually be routed out, and she was not foolish enough to hold out the hope that the ponies would just leave her alone. She dreaded what might happen if there was another encounter between her and them. How  many times would she be able to snap herself out of her frenzies, which seemed to be becoming ever more frequent, before she eventually woke up to find that her talons were stained with a pony's blood?

Both she and they had been extremely lucky beyond measure that, so far anyway, the only creatures to suffer from her episodes were mere animals. But Angela knew that would not last. She knew that it was only a matter of time until that luck ran out. 

And the knowledge that she could be set off by nothing more than a little pain did little to ease her worries. 

She was stuck.

She was stuck in the body of a monster that could enter a bloodthirsty rage at a moments notice, with little to no options available to her that did not in some way involve bloodshed for either her or the ponies. If she ran, they would track her. If she hid they would find her. If she fought, it would only make things that much worse for all involved. And with no way to speak in a way that a pony could probably understand, she had virtually no way to explain herself. Given all of this she was more than stuck.

She was screwed.

But these were all things that would have to be dealt with and confronted at a later date. For now, all Angela wanted to do was find some place to lay low to recuperate from her ordeal and try not to think too much about them. 

Soon enough Angela came across a cave embedded in the side of a hill that at first glance seemed large enough for her to curl up in with little discomfort. A brief inspection confirmed this, with the only occupants being a group of bats that flew away the moment she stuck her head inside. It would have to do for now, but before settling in, Angela felt the need to make it at least a little more comfortable for her to rest in. 

Angela was basically running on fumes as she moved away from the cave and began uprooting any small brush that she happened to come across. Her claws made short work of snipping the roots embedded beneath the soil, and every bit of shrubbery was unceremoniously tossed over her should in to the cave. She went about this routine for a few minutes before deciding that she had enough foliage to make something that was hopefully slightly more comfortable than just hard stone. Practically dragging her slender form into the cave, Angela absentmindedly gathered a fair amount of the foliage beneath her before sinking to the floor. 

Before letting herself rest, Angela quickly checked the injuries along her spine to assess their severity, noticing that while they did not seem to be all that bad at a glance, the dark blood that slowly wept out of them had not ceased entirely. At best the rate of the flow had only slowed down. This could prove to be a problem to her if it did not stop any time soon, although honestly Angela could not care less about it at the moment. To her, it was just another thing to add onto the growing pile of problems she faced.

Deciding to let her wounds tend to themselves for he moment, Angela curled up around herself, and almost immediately she felt her vision begin to fade to darkness, and her last thought before slipping completely into unconsciousness was how she was going to find a solution to this mess that she had created for herself.





She was lost.

She was lost and she had nowhere to go. 

Angela did not know where she was. All she knew was that she was in a dark place, devoid of any light of any kind to guide her. With nowhere to go and no way to see, Angela stayed where she was, curled up in a fetal position with her arms hugging her legs tightly to her chest. 

And she was not alone in the dark. She knew this for a fact. She could feel it out there, lurking in the depths of the void.

Watching her. 

Waiting for her.

It made no sound as it moved, but Angela was not deceived. All she could do was keep her eyes closed and hope and pray that it left her alone and did not come any closer. That hope was dashed however when she felt something brush against her, stroking her back as a mother would a child. The touch was soft and gentle, belying the inherent nature of the monster that pretended to comfort her.

"I am you," a voice whispered into her ear, and Angela whimpered as felt its breath, hot and reeking with the scent of freshly spilled blood. And as its breath tousled her hair she felt a pool of dark liquid build up round her, rising gradually before enveloping her completely.

"And you are mine."





A small sound awakened Angela from her troubled sleep, so soft and muted that she would have been content to just ignore it and go back to sleep, no matter if she was still plagued by nightmares. But just as she was about to doze off the sound came again, slightly louder this time. To her it sounded like a shrill howl mixed with the chime of a bell, though she could not pinpoint where exactly it was coming from. The anonymity of whatever was causing the racket was beginning to frustrate her a little. 

She may not have been particularly eager to go back to sleep and subject herself to her dreams, but she still needed her rest, and that could not be attained as long as whatever was making that noise persisted in keeping her awake.

Another bell like howl came, no louder than a mouse's squeak, and Angela was beginning to suspect that she had unintentionally picked up a few vermin when she was preparing her bed of bushes. She was tempted to just toss the whole lot out and sleep on the stone floor, but that sounded even more unappealing to her. Besides, as far as she could tell there was only one pest to be rid of.

Angela picked up another howl, somewhat tinny in nature, which she used to hone in on its source with her heightened senses. Carefully she rooted through the shrubbery with the tips of her claws so she would not scare whatever it was into silence, until eventually she came across what was making all that noise. But it was not what she was expecting in the slightest. 

What Angela was thinking she would find was a mouse or some other variety of rodent. What she did not anticipate to find was a slug. A snail to be more accurate, although it was unlike any snail she had ever seen before. Whereas the typical snail was only a few centimeters in length, an inch at best, the one she was currently looking at must have been at least a foot long, although to her it might as well have been a little beetle. It had a brown conical shell ending in a dull point atop its back, while its body had shiny blue skin with black stripes. But what was really odd about the mollusk was that instead of eye stalks like a typical snail had, this one possessed a thin graceful neck that arched upward, ending in a narrow head resembling a dragons. Its eyes were a dull bronze in color, and protruding from the back of its head was a pair of curving horns like those of a ram.

Angela stared at the creature in befuddlement, wondering what in the world she was even looking at. As she did so the creature raised its head slightly and uttered a howl exactly like what she had been hearing. It almost sounded mournful to her. 

For a few moments Angela simply gazed at the strange little creature, unsure what to even call it. It slowly slid forward, leaving a little trail of transparent mucus behind it on the leaves of her makeshift mattress. Feeling slightly curious, Angela moved a little closer to the odd snail. It immediately took notice of her, and emitted a shrill hooting sound at her. Letting her curiosity take hold of her as a welcome distraction from her aches and pains, Angela carefully brought the tip of one of her claws close to it. In response the snail did something rather unexpected.

Rearing its head back slightly, it opened its mouth, and a small gout of flame as long as it was shot forward at her claw. Angela was taken by surprise by the action, although she noticed that the flame did nothing to harm her. At most, all the flame did was create an acrid smell and a small scorch mark on her talon. After a few seconds the flame was cut off, and the snail pulled its entire body into its shell. At first Angela was perplexed by this, until it dawned on her that to it she have appeared to have been a titanic monster as big as a mountain. 

This reaction from it affected Angela more than it probably should have, but it reminded her too much of her current predicament. In this instance the fire breathing sail and the ponies might as well have been the same. What else should she hope to expect after all, given what she had already done, and what she might do? In truth, Angela did not begrudge the snail or the ponies for their fear of her. The only thing she truly had to blame was herself.

These were Angela's thoughts as she once more curled in around herself, hoping to be able to go back to sleep and forget her troubles, for a little while anyway.

But just as she was about to fall back into her fitful slumber, the snail things howling gained her attention once more. She glanced over and, to her mild surprise, saw that the little creature had chosen to come out of its shell, and was now looking at her with its head tilted to the side in a convincing display of apparent confusion. It did nothing else except silently gaze at her with its tiny bronze eyes.

Angela tried to ignore it, but the snail howled a second time,  prompting a slight growl of annoyance from the wraith. This caused it to pull back into its shell, but only halfway this time. Its head was sticking out, still looking at her.

Unsure what it was doing, Angela once again brought the tip of her index claw near it. And she was surprised when, instead of retreating into its shell again as she expected, the snail seemed to regard her for a moment before slowly sticking its neck out, and appeared to sniff her. After a few moments of inactivity passed before the snail slid forward onto her claw, leaving a little wet trail on the bone.

Well aren't you a brave one, Angela thought as she brought it closer for her to examine. Of course it's easy to be brave when you figure out your safe. Even with me. 

Another series of howls reached her senses, although she noticed that the creature she was holding on the tip of her claw was not the source of it. Rather, it seemed to be coming from outside of the cave. The dragon snail, as Angela had decided to call it, turned its attention away from her and answered them with a call of its own. This went on for a few moments, with the calls going back and forth until Angela guessed that it wanted to go outside. If it would help her get to sleep any faster, than Angela felt obliged to help it out.

With the dragon snail still perched on her claw, Angela hovered out of the cave and traveled a short distance. She noticed that it was now much later in the afternoon according to the position of the sun. In the back of her mind she wondered if the pony that controlled its movement ever had any off days where she slept in occasionally. She imagined that such a thing would wreak potential havoc on the schedules of every living thing in this world. 

Whatever the case, Angela's musings were interrupted by another round of back and forth howling, and her attention was drawn to the same patch of bushes that she had used to make her bed. And gathered on and under their leaves she noticed an entire group of the dragon snails, numbering in what seemed to be the dozens at least. Their collective hoots and howls joined together to create a cacophony that sounded almost musical to her. Angela found it rather pleasant to listen to, like there was some sort of mystical quality to their unified voices that soothed her senses, allowing her to forget about her pain and her worries. She even caught herself humming along to the melody.

Hovering over to the bushes, Angela gently lowered her arm, allowing the dragon snail to slither off of her claw and onto a large leaf as a few others of its kind came out, appearing to greet their fellow with a series of calls that were slightly more high pitched than the others. As Angela watched the scene play out, she felt a strange sense of pride and satisfaction as they touched their snouts together. Then as one each of them looked at her and began hooting and howling at her, and she could not help but imagine that they were thanking her for reuniting them.

Angela merely hummed in contentment, thinking back to how only a few minutes ago that one of the had been afraid of her. If only it were that easy with the ponies.

That was when it dawned on Angela, that maybe it really could be that easy. Maybe all she had to do to convince them that she was not a threat, or at least did not mean to be a threat, was to actually show them. After all, the only side of her that they had seen so far was the one ruled by instinct, but if she showed them something else. . . 

Would they even listen? Angela wondered as she watched the dragon snails slither back under the cover of the foliage. I haven't exactly been very friendly. 

Neither had they to be honest, but that was all the result of misinterpretations from both sides, and a lack of any actual effort from her. Her main concern was whether or not she would even be given a chance after almost killing a number of them. . . multiple times. And even if that was not the main issue, there was still the matter of the language barrier between them. She no longer possessed the ability to speak, and she had serious doubts about creatures with hooves understanding sign language very well.

But still, even with such limitations, Angela felt it would at least be worth a shot to show that she truly did not mean any harm. And if by some stroke of absurd luck she did manage to convince them of it, then a conflict could be avoided altogether. But in the far more likely event that things went south and she failed, resulting in a fight. . . she honestly did not know. If it did come to blows, Angela knew that she would not simply lie down and let them do whatever they wanted to her, but neither did she want to have to fight her way out of a confrontation and risk losing her sanity in the process. Such an event would most assuredly have disastrous consequences.

But no matter what may happen, Angela knew that at the very least she had to try, if not for her sake then for theirs. 

Hard to believe I was ever a thief, Angela thought with grim amusement.

With a plan in mind, Angela began to look for some high ground, where she could hopefully spot a settlement of some sort in the distance. Those ponies and the griffon had to have come from somewhere after all, and the city on the mountain seemed to be too far for any of the walk, or even fly. 

However, in her search Angela became aware of another matter that needed tending to, making itself known in the form of a tightening sensation around her midsection, followed by a series of grumbles originating from the same area. Letting a raspy sigh escape her ganged jaws, Angela redirected her attention to finding a meal. 

She could be friendly after she ate.





Bon Bon's galloping had long since petered out to a slow trot, with her every hoofstep punctuated by a tired, wheezing breath. She was by no means out of shape, despite her assumed profession back in Ponyville, not to mention Lyras bad habit of bringing home copious amounts of junk food from the local hayburger establishment on a regular basis. The rituals that she had picked up in the agency made sure that she was always in peak physical condition at all times should the situation call for it. The events of the previous night certainly had. But after running for her life for most of the night and almost having a heart attack a few times over from how close she came to dying, Bon Bon wanted absolutely nothing more than to just fall down wherever she happened to be and sleep for the rest of the week.

She kept going however, struggling to ignore her screaming muscles and aching bones and just keep going until she eventually made it back to Hollow Shades.

She had long since given up on the hope of ever getting there in time to stop Gerald from sending a message to Celestia. She was confident that he had already sent it. For all of his flaws, Gerald was punctual. But still, maybe, just maybe, she might be able to meet up with the royal guard and inform them of the situation. She was concerned for the creature of course, but not as much as she was for the wellbeing of whoever confronted it. Considering what she had already seen the creature do, Bon Bon did not put too much faith in anypony's ability, even those of the royal guard, to fight the thing and come out unscathed. 

She knew that it would not matter how well armed they came, no amount of spears or swords would be enough to subdue it, much less kill it. But if Bon Bon kept going, a confrontation could hopefully be avoided entirely, and a new solution could be found.

She just hoped she could get there in time.