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// 1 Beginnings 
// Story: An Earthly Portal 
// by Nightmare Darkness 
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The smell of cigarettes hit me in the face as I opened the door to my home. I have never liked my dad for smoking but what was the worst part was his anger and resentment of me. I did whatever he wished and even then it always seemed to backfire. He wasn’t home yet from work but as of late it has been hard. The industry has been failing and my dad had been vocal about it to the extent of losing his temper and venting his frustrations across my face and body. My arms still hurt from the belt he used last night. If you wonder where my mom is she passed away several years ago. 

I took off my backpack and held it in my hand. I winced as the bruising on my shoulder and arm had rubbed against the straps. My room was fairly mundane by the best of standards. We were too poor for a computer and I only could do what I enjoyed with a pencil and paper. Did I hate my dad? Yeah a little but what else am I supposed to do?

I have friends at school but they more border on the line of acquaintances than anything. I can’t just show up at their place and expect for them to take me in. I myself got angry sometimes but I refused to do anything about it, I would feel like my father and I didn’t want that. Pulling out my sketch lined paper it had homework on it but I didn’t care for it, instead, I turned it to a fresh page. I began to sketch, first the head, then the equine body…or right I didn’t say I’m a brony, but I have never told anyone this, how might you ask did I find myself drawn to such a thing well I just saw a few episodes, all seemingly cool but I don’t know much about the show itself. I just know there’s a fandom because others talking about it at school were saying how strange it is…so I keep it to myself.

The door of the house opened and my heart skipped a beat as I pressed my hand against the paper and closed it crushing the sketch. The sound of a curse and rage as my father bellowed incoherently as a shoe hit the wall outside my door. I wished I had closed my door so he wouldn’t see me. He passed by the door and glanced in seeing me, his disheveled look and cloudy eyes and the horrid stench of sweat and whiskey permeated the air. He was drunk, and it was early even for him.

“You, why are you back from school?” he said turning toward me and now I could see a brown bag that contained an open mouth of an alcohol bottle.

“School ended at 3:45 dad,” I said sheepishly, I wanted to be anywhere but here. My stomach knotted up as he strode into my room raising his finger.

“You know it’s your fault!” he said with a crazed look in his eyes.

“W-what?” I said frightened as he closed his fist and pain erupted from the left side of my face causing my vision to explode into bits of light and blackness. I looked back up at him which seemed to anger him more.

“If you weren’t here I could have provided myself with everthin I want but now I lost my job!” he bellowed as he punched me again with his other hand with the bottle still in it. The glass shattered cutting his hand and his fury only increased. He grabbed his hand cursing uncontrollably. I tried to get up and escape but he reached out with his bloody hands and grabbed my neck pushing me hard. I crashed into the wall and tripped on my sketchbook. I fell onto my side and scrambled to get up.

“Get back here!” he ordered and he blocked the door with his body.

“You’re going to pay for this boy!” he growled as he charged me. I looked over my shoulder at my window and stood up to open it before my father was on me. His strong arm punched my kidney causing me to cry out and extend myself in pain. He took advantage of this by grabbing my neck and throwing me on my bed. My father beat me almost daily but this time it was different. His rage, sadness, and booze fueled fury caused me to think, this is it.

I awoke to pain, it hurt to breathe, blink, think, everything. The darkness outside my window gave me an idea hours had passed. The TV was blaring so my father had gone on to satisfy his other habit. I tried to sit up but found myself whimpering softly. Is this how I am to live? A small voice in my head said yes but another more angry voice said to get away, anywhere but here. I agreed. I forced myself up with great effort. My small mirror on my dresser greeted me as I passed it. My face was swollen with dried blood all on my shirt and face. I didn’t even recognize my own face the only feature I could see were my green eyes. I turned the knob of my door and slowly closed it without a noise. I picked up my backpack and emptied the contents on my bed. I began to pack my clothes. I changed my shirt to a plane tan brown and picked up a black hoodie that had an AC/DC logo on it. Opening my room door I slung my backpack onto my back and quietly got to the main door and put on my shoes. Grasping the door handle I opened the door which made a loud scraping sound as the plastic rubbed against the linoleum floor. The sound of my father’s recliners kicks stool being brought down sent an adrenaline spike. I ripped open the door and bolted out of the door not even bothering to close it.
I ran for what felt like hours before I was on the outskirts of my town. Looking back at the silhouette of lights that was my town I chose to abandon. Nothing was left for me there. Tightening the straps on my backpack I jogged along the road for a few hours before it began to rain. Flipping my hood up I jogged into the forest to have some shelter from the rain. My father could be looking for me so I chose to go a bit deeper to make sure he wouldn’t find me. Pushing apart a pair of bushes a lone tree stood in a meadow with a large thick canopy looked comfortable enough. Jogging up to the trunk the rain couldn’t get me as I stood underneath the tree. A small sign was staked in front of it and I couldn’t help but read it. “The Wishing Tree: this old oak is guessed to be hundreds if not a thousand years old. Legends state if you whatever you wish will come true if you wish hard enough under its branches.” I shook my head and just found a seat amongst the large roots that formed a natural small shelter. I began to shiver but I clutched my backpack to my chest before I forced my eyes shut.
“If I had a wish it would be to be somewhere else than this cruel world,” I muttered to myself before falling asleep and a thought came to mind Equestira might not be too bad.

The pain now came from my wounds and stiffness. The sun rose quickly in the sky causing me to cover my eyes from the blinding light. I leaned forward and felt my stomach rumble standing up shakily I frowned as the sign that was there yesterday was gone. Had someone come along and just stolen the sign? Shaking my head of that nonsense I reached for my backpack only to find it was gone. Looking down I saw an odd sight. I don’t do drugs, despise the idea of them but I must have been having a major trip. The simple explanation was someone took the sign, my stuff, and injected me with a drug that caused massive hallucinations. My hands…were not hands they were what looked like claws.
“Ahh!” I exclaimed that came out a sheik that sounded like a hawk. Crossing my eyes I saw not my nose but a beak. I tried to stand up on my legs and fell forward onto my claws. Beginning to hyperventilate, my eyes looked everywhere for an answer that was nowhere to be found. Walking on all fours I walked tripped and my wings flared out. Wait wings? Looking over my shoulder I had wings that I naturally put back into place. The rain from yesterday had formed a puddle where I looked at my reflection.

“What the?” I said as my new reflection mimicked me. I looked at myself as I turned my head and examined myself. My bumps and bruises were still apparent but covered up by brown feathers on my chest with white wings accented by black tips, white feathers covering my neck and crown and finally a yellow beak. My hind end looked like a lions and that was even stranger. I tried to think what I had become and the word griffon came to mind. My stomach grumbled again and I placed my claw on my stomach. I’ve never hunted so that was out. I would have to endure like so many other times my father spent all the money on booze, junk food, and cigarettes. I thought maybe I should try and fly but thought better of it considering I have no idea how to. I walked through to the forest and back from there I thought I originally came. The woods were thicker and danker, vegetation such as vines, large tropical leaves, and hanging moss. The road was only supposed to be a short distance from the tree but the longer I walked the more uncertain I became. A twig snapped and I froze in place. I looked around to see the culprit. It wasn’t long before three creatures walked out forming a semi-circle in my path. They looked like wolves skeletons if they were made out of wood. The foliage had hidden them and now they were slowly advancing on me. My instinct kicked in and I stumbled turning and run.
You know when you run it’s not a matter of how do you run, you just do. I figured this out in full panicked mode as I sprinted across the meadow again being chased by wooden wolves yelling for anyone to help me. I broke into the forest on the other side of the meadow and kept running for my life. I looked over my shoulder missing the drop as I tumbled down a steep hill falling and tumbling as I did so the world became a painting of greens and blacks as the foliage around me blurred. I came to a sudden stop as if a tree reached out and caught me. Breathing heavily I tried to calm myself. A searing new found pain caused me to cry out. I investigated my right wing that was bleeding and at a wrong angle. The three wolves were bounding down the slope closing in for the kill, I struggled to stand but my strength left me. I felt fear and dread clutch my chest and I closed my eyes.

“Be gone foul beasts before I turn you into firewood for my potions and brews!” a thickly African accented voice ordered. I opened my eyes to see a Zebra standing between me and what I would acquaint to be death. The wolves snapped at the Zebra but halted and began to 8slowly advance. She removed a sling from her saddlebags that had a strange wooden object with a different number of holes on it. Holding it in her teeth she began to rotate her head in a circular motion making the strangely holed piece of a wood whistle. The sound caused the wolves to whine and yelp scratching at what must have been their ears. Before long they fled and left us be. I looked up at the Zebra astonished but when I tried to move pain reared its ugly head. I slumped to the ground again with a painful cry. The Zebra flicked her head and threaded her muzzle through the rope having the whistle fall on her chest like a necklace.

“Now, keep calm those Timber wolves are gone.” She said assuring me. She muzzled her saddlebags again and produced a jar.

“Drink this now and your pain will be ceased to be for now.” She said as I took it in my claw and popped the cork and aimed it at my mouth getting most of it in. I wiped my beak as I began to feel the effects almost immediately. My eyes began to droop as my head fell to the dirt.

“What…did you.” I slurred to say.

“You are the only griffin who I’ve gotten to see, who is so otherworldly.” She said before I fully blacked out.