Spring Chapter 6
Walkin’ After Midnight
In the dark of the night, in the backyard of the ‘Pony You Came In With Saloon’, a certain outhouse was filled with desperate yell of a man living his currently worst moment ever.
“’Ooh, no. Oh, no-no-no-no! Not now! Couldn’t you at least wait till I was done? I mean, changing me in the middle of the operation? Who does that!?”
Observation #1: The pony-outhouses were clearly meant only for ponies. Therefore, something the size of a tall, bulky human suddenly appearing in one quickly found itself in a very tight spot.
Observation #2: Just like last time, changing from a naked pony into a human did not mean that you magically gained clothing from anywhere. In other words, anything changing in such manner was presented in their most natural state… for better or for worse.
Observation #3: George Sparrow’s life had taken another terrifying turn for the worse.
“Crap, this ain’t good. Not in the least,” George muttered as he squeezed out of the outhouse. “I can’t let these ponies see me like this, I’ve got enough problems already…!”
While the day itself had gone more or less well, George still remembered what had happened just the previous night. The pain caused by the stinging nettle to his nether regions had made sure of that. He didn’t want a repeat of those panic-filled moments, and thus, his only choice now was to somehow make a quiet escape to somewhere where he could hide, at least until he changed back to his equine form.
“What the hell causes it, anyhow?” George muttered as he scanned the thankfully deserted backyard of the tavern. “The last time I was having a bath in that oil drum, but now I was simply taking a leak, and it still kicked in… oh, wait a minute.”
Peering up towards the skies, George saw the full moon staring back at him. Its silvery light covered most of the town around him, including the place where he stood. Slowly but surely, gears in his head started turning, until like a flash of lightning, realization hit him. George slapped his own forehead, and grimaced.
“Moonlight…! Of course!” He said. “Well, that or just night in general. I was pretty shielded from moonlight in that outhouse after all. But, still… that sounds plausible. Or, at the very least it would put some sense into these transformations. Something in the night activates them, and I change back into that four-legged nightmare whenever sun comes up… or something like that.”
Suddenly, a frightening thought struck George, causing him to shiver. It did not really help that he was outside on a chilly spring evening without a single piece of clothing to hide his shame.
“So, wait: I’m some sort of… were-pony? God, and here I thought turning either into an animal or something sparkly was bad. But no, I’ve been saddled with turning into both!” he grumbled, grinding his teeth, before looking suddenly horrified. “… Saddled? Oh god, am I starting to make puns, too? Is this some sort of side-effect of this curse!?”
A sudden sound of an opening door from a nearby street shocked George back into reality. He was relatively safe on the backyard, as it had been walled-off, but sooner or later some patron would stumble upon him. Thus, he had to escape, and fast. He didn’t want a pony, especially not Apple Cobbler, finding him looking like this. Even if they connected him to the off-white pegasus they had seen earlier, just the sight of him would cause enough trouble.
“…I guess that’ll have to do,” George muttered as he finally spotted something to cover himself with.
The large piece of cloth that had been pulled over some old barrels got the dubious honor of becoming his makeshift clothing. George ripped it in half, covering his lower half like he had worn a towel. He then proceeded to wrap it around himself to fasten it, securing it with rope that had held the cloth in place. The rest of the dark brown linen he threw over himself to hide his bulky frame. It wasn’t the best disguise, but at least he managed to hide his face with that makeshift cloak-and-hood.
“I don’t suppose this Lawrence of Arabia look is fashionable anymore,” George mumbled as he tested that the clothing wouldn’t restrict his movement. “Still, there’s no way I’m risking showing my junk to these crazy creatures. I’ve seen what sets of teeth horses have!”
Having acquired some manner of disguise, George decided not to linger in the backyard anymore. Every minute he risked a chance of someone walking in on him. Thus, he headed to the plank fence that separated the tavern from the back alleys, and easily climbed over it. While it might have stopped a pony, for a human it was merely the matter of having some muscles to pull one over it; and though George might have been lacking in many aspects, he could always be proud of his muscles… even if he had started developing a pot-belly lately.
Dropping down to the back alley, George immediately lay as low as he could, frantically scanning his surroundings. Both ends of the alley were empty, so he quietly made his way towards west. From what he could remember, most of the town’s buildings were concentrated on the eastern side, close to the river that ran through it.
If I can just get outside of the town and into that darn forest, I’ll be golden, George mused as he snuck forward. The only problem is if I have to cross any large streets… but then again, it’s night. Something tells me these marshmallow-colored freaks ain’t nocturnal.
George’s suspicions were soon confirmed. After walking down a couple of more alleys that led him closer and closer to the western edge of the town, he came across one of the main streets. Indeed, it was the same one he and his useless “tourist guides” had used earlier that day; and in the dark of the night, George saw no living soul in sight. Only the lights in the houses told that anything was indeed awake at this hour.
Confectionaries and fashion boutiques… Bah. Escape routes, Crazy Sparkle! Whenever entering a new town, you’ve gotta identify all escape routes! George admonished the purple alicorn in his mind. Any guide worth their salt should have the courtesy of at least discreetly showing them! Unbelievable. It’s like they’ve never had to skip town before.
As the main street was far too wide and far too open for subtlety to be of any help, George decided to risk it. He waited fifteen more seconds to make sure that nobody was walking about or appearing from behind a corner. Then, muttering a little prayer for anyone interested enough to listen under his breath, he sprinted forward. His bare feet slapped against the sandy surface of the street, creating a rhythm to go with his heartbeat.
Gods of Irony, don’t look now! George hoped as he dashed with all his might.
It took him only few seconds to cross the main street with his long legs and speed, but for George, it had felt almost like an eternity. Only when in the shadows of the buildings once more could he breathe easy. Now that he was relatively safe, George squatted down on the alley for a moment, steadying his heart-rate.
“Damn… this is more nerve-wracking than I thought. I mean, at the end of the day, I’m hiding for miniature toy horses. It’s ain’t like they could do anything to me even if they caught me. Unless they ganged up on me,” George muttered to himself, shivering at the thought. “Ugh. Swarmed by a pastel colored wave that barely hits my knees. Now there’s a nightmare for the weekend.”
Having calmed himself down, George patted his knees and stood up once more. His cloak was working admirably for its makeshift nature, and even the super-sized breechcloth was doing its job. Even if some of the creatures saw him, they would hardly know what he looked like. Grunting to himself, George pulled his hood down to further cover his face, and headed back into the shadows of the alley. Using this route, he could most likely make it all the way to the edge of the town. After that, he’d only have to avoid the occasional farm, and he’d be home free. Faraway Farm was feeling like the best choice for a hideout at the moment, as George knew he could lock himself in some room until morning came.
Hopefully that’ll change me back. I’ll have to come up with some excuse for Apple Cobbler, but… eh, I’ll think about that tomorrow. First I have to worry about getting out of here, George mused in his mind. It’s not even that big of a place, but the town plan’s bonkers. Then again, I suppose they did have that attack of… Tiramisu?... some time ago. Hmm… I’d better ask about that when I get the chance. Don’t wanna be surprised by some fantasy monster crap while I’m tending to my turnips.
As George made his way through the alleys of Ponyville, he slowly started to relax a bit more. There clearly wasn’t anyone walking around this time of the night, especially on the backstreets that he kept using. What that left him was the almost uninterrupted silence of the night, as well as breathtaking view of the starry skies above his head. George couldn’t remember the last time he had seen stars shine so bright. It was like he had been transported in the middle of a desert.
However, the sight also filled him with dread. As much as he tried, he could not find any familiar shapes or constellations. Even Polaris, which was easy to spot just about everywhere, was missing. The sinking feeling in George’s stomach told him the truth that he already knew: the night sky he was admiring wasn’t the familiar one, but weird and alien. It did not take long for that grand sight to turn eerie.
George sighed and pulled his cloak further on himself. His wandering eyes returned to stare at the streets once more…
“… Crap.”
… Only to see a pony staring straight at him.
Light cerise coat. Mane and tail colored vivid, blazing yellow. Sporting a horn but no wings, and with a colorful tattoo of an exploding star adorning its rear end. George had never seen this pony before, but judging from its expression, this meeting was not about to go well. Its pupils had shrunk to pinpricks, and there was a frozen expression of fear plastered on its face. No, not even fear. George had only seen that sort of expression in one place during his lifetime.
— And that had been on the faces of small critters being stared at by hunting dogs.
It was absolute terror. Primal, undiluted, absolute terror. The horned pony was staring at his cloaked figure like he had been some sort of Lovecraftian horror that had slithered up from the sewers. Even George had to admit it was surprising: he had expected shock and fear, but not to this extent. The creature looked like it would shatter akin to glass if he just touched it.
At this point, it’s just the fear and surprise that’s keeping it silent. George muttered in his mind. This moment’s just a pitiful blank between one and perdition. The second I make some sort of move or open my mouth, it’ll scream. And run. Probably at the same time. And that means… the whole town’s going to wake up. ‘Crap’, indeed…
There was no way around it. The situation had been locked already, and there was only one way out. George softly inhaled and prepared himself, digging his feet into the soft ground. This would be all about speed. Either he would grab and silence the silly creature, or then he’d have the whole township, plus those armored guards he had seen at the castle, after him. In other words, it was a make it or break it moment.
And George, trusting his gambler’s instincts, had decided to roll the dice.
“Any chance you’d just let me pass without screaming at the top of your lungs?” George asked, trying his best to emulate a friendly expression.
His answer was an ear-piercing screech that must’ve been pony-equivalent of a typical horror-movie damsel-in-distress scream.
“That’s about what I expected, yeah,” George said with a grunt, and dashed forward.
His plan had been simple. Catch the pony, knock it out, stuff it into some nearby trashcan and then flee from the scene of the crime before anyone could come investigating. Not the most complicated plan, but on such a short notice, it was the best he could do; and in any other situation, the plan would have probably worked. The pony was nowhere near his size, so overpowering it was a piece of cake…
“W-wait, what!?”
… If only the pony hadn’t suddenly disappeared in a flash of blinding, golden light.
George could only stare in front of him in stupefied awe. This he definitely had not anticipated. It wasn’t as if the pony had blinded him with something and used that chance to run away, no: the creature had simply disappeared from within his reach. Almost like… almost like…
“M-magic?” George muttered, his teeth chattering. “No way, don’t tell me… then again, this place is fantasy-ish enough already, so it could be. But still, if the horned ones can do something like that, I… I… I…”
Somewhere in the distance, bells started ringing with great fervor. Alarmed by that sound, lights popped on in just about every window around the town, illuminating even the alley that George was currently on.
“—I think that’s my cue, actually,” George finished his thought, and dashed forward.
There was no need for subtlety or sneaking anymore. If the bells in the distance meant anything like the bells he had heard before, the whole town had just been alerted to his presence. In other words, ponies would be out looking for him. George’s only chance at this point was to run as fast as he could and hope he would be able to make it out of the town before some patrol fell upon him.
Securing his cloak one last time, George vaulted the fence that greeted him at the end of the alley and arrived on a backyard. There was a terrified scream coming from the open window, no doubt meaning he had been spotted again. Without missing a beat, George crossed the yard in a mad dash for freedom, vaulted another fence and landed on the sandy surface of a street.
Taking a sharp turn, he sprinted towards the promising sight of faraway trees; the only problem was that this direction took him straight to one of the larger streets, and only few seconds after getting there, he could hear the tell-tale signs of small hooves pounding the ground. He might have had more leg power, and considerably longer legs, but he ventured a guess that these ponies could still get into quite the speeds. Therefore he wasted no time in looking behind, and instead darted down the street, straight into the spotlight of the lamps flanking the street.
Reno’s Mullet, how can one day go so wrong so quick!? George yelled in his mind. As if I didn’t have enough problems already!
Bolting to the next street, which seemed to lead towards the forest and the river, George noticed from the corner of his eyes how more and more windows started flying open, and curious heads poked out of them. He silently thanked the cloak he was wearing in his mind. The last thing he needed was some pastel-colored freak seeing his ugly mug.
What he wasn’t so thankful about was the closing in sound of trampling hooves. Throwing one glance backwards as he made a sharp turn, George nearly bit his tongue. A whole platoon of armored white ponies was hot on his trail, and judging by their expressions, they were not about to give up. Not to mention that with their speed, they would have caught up to him sooner or later.
“I suppose I’ll have to improvise, then!” George muttered to himself and changed his direction.
Instead of following the street, George headed straight towards the side of the nearest house he saw. The timber frames and overhanging balconies were perfect for what he was about to do. Thus, the moment he got close enough, George jumped with all his might and caught hold of one side of the dark brown frame with his fingers. Striking his bare feet against the wall, he pushed himself forward, throwing forth his right hand and catching a hold of the balcony’s railing. Using that as a lever-point, he then pulled himself up and jumped on to the small balcony. From there, it was simply a hop, skip and a jump, and he was on the thatched roof.
— Far above the reach of his quadruped chasers.
“Hah! Try to catch me now, suckers!” George yelled and laughed mockingly.
His happiness was, unfortunately, short-lived. While using the rooftops as his way out had been a stroke of brilliance, George had failed to accommodate for one rather obvious fact. Not a minute of rooftop-running had gone by till he heard a strange sound of powerful wings flapping in the air. Glancing over his shoulder as he jumped from one roof to another, George saw to his horror that some of the armored ponies had taken flight, using their strangely short wings to beat the air and get some impressive height.
“Oh, right! Of course!” George grumbled and cursed under his breath. “The wings! They were made for flying! God!”
Thus, the chase was on once more. The pegasi guards were much faster on their wings than George’s acrobatic escape, and thus they started gaining on him quickly. There was also another problem that occurred to him as he approached the river, and the forest beyond it: The rooftops would end pretty soon. He only saw three houses ahead, and after that, it was nothing but the big drop and the river that waited beyond it.
George knew that there was only one way to go. Gritting his teeth together, George quickly crossed the distance of those last three rooftops, put some power to his legs, and made mad dash forward, right to the edge that awaited for him.
“The things I do for my freedom!” George cried out angrily.
Then, performing a magnificent leap, George put his arms forth, shaping something like a knife with his body, bending his waist ever so slightly. He cut the air with amazing precision, covering the distance between the rooftop and the river easily, before plunging head first into the deep, cold river that awaited him. The only that was left behind was the cloak he had covered himself with, hanging in the air like it had been a kite.
The freezing water hit George like a truck to the face, but he managed to shake off the shock. For a moment, his eyes saw nothing but deep, murky blackness, and his ears were filled with the rush of the flowing river. However, his instincts kicked in, keeping his body still on the move. George’s legs kicked the water and his hands dug forth like shovels, keeping him moving forward. He did not fight against the current, however, allowing it to move him sideways. He knew that the power of the water would take him further away from his chasers than his own limbs ever could.
Eventually he felt certain light-headedness that came when losing oxygen during a dive. Deciding that he had gotten far enough, George put all his strength into swimming forward, and soon enough felt the muddy bank of the river with his hands. Digging into it deep, he pulled himself forth and pushed up with his legs.
Only a second later did George break the water’s surface, inhaling the fresh air deep into his lungs.
Quick look around revealed that he had made much more headway than he had anticipated. The house he had dived from was far away in the distance, as was the group of ponies who had gathered on the opposing bank of the river. They seemed to be busy investigating the makeshift cloak he had left behind. Cackling to himself, George waded out of the river and on to the dry land.
However, his laughter was cut short, as another flash of brightly-colored light, purple this time, appeared near the group of ponies. He heard a commanding neigh, and saw how the purple pony that had appeared pointed into his general direction with its front leg. There was no doubt about it. The Crazy Sparkle pony had appeared once more, and it ushered the chasers after him once more… that, and it was also, apparently, capable of the same disappearing trick as the other horned pony.
“Oh, come on!” George screamed at the sight, forgetting his situation momentarily because of sheer frustration. “Okay, that’s it! Officially: Screw! This!”
Growling out of anger, George resumed his run, heading straight to the woods that awaited him. They were the only relief he had at the moment. The ponies might have been as fast or faster than him on flat land, but out in the forest? He could give them a slip before they even realized what was going on. At least the ponies didn’t have squad cars to help them, or ATVs with drunken hillbilly drivers.
The forest scenery whistled past George as he dashed deeper into the dark depths of the thicket. Strange shapes and odd shadows crept everywhere around him, but he didn’t let them bother him. It was night-time in the forest, after all. Only fools presumed there was nothing scary out there that could harm them; and George was banking on the fact that these ponies knew the same thing, herbivores as they were.
I mean, they’re idiots, but not suicidal idiots, right? George grumbled in his mind as he vaulted over a boulder. Please don’t let them be suicidal idiots!
It seemed that George’s prayers were answered. As he broke further and further in into the deep, unwelcoming undergrowth, he heard the strange sound that accompanied the flashing light. Quick glance told him that the purple pony with both horn and wings had arrived to the edge of the forest. Still, it was clearly hesitating, as were the other ponies that quickly arrived to its side. They did not want to venture into the forest after him.
“Hah! Take that you grass-munching, candy-colored freaks of nature! Even you know it’s best not to mess with the best!” George yelled and laughed victoriously. “Score one for Team Sparrow, ahaha— Aaaaaah!”
In his glee of victory, George had went and forgotten one of the most important aspects of running in a forest: keeping a track of where and how you step. Before he even knew it, his right foot was caught in a particularly thick root, and he fell like lakeside timber. Worst of all, what awaited him was a steep downwards slope filled with rocks and bushes.
The end result was predictable: letting out a horrible litany of curses, George Sparrow tumbled down the hill in one big pile of limbs and brown cloth.
“This—! Ow! Feels awfully—! Ow! Familiar! Eaugh!”
However, every moment has come to an end. George’s unrefined roll down the hill met its end when he reached the very bottom, only to hit his head straight into a large rock. For a moment, he saw nothing but stars and flashing white lights, until pain assaulted his cranium. It was like something had set his brains on fire without asking for permission first.
The last thing George saw, before completely blacking out because of the hit, was something strange. Far above him, towering like a giant from fairytales, was something… oddly familiar. It was bulky, and it cast a big, black shadow over him; but, even in his stupefied state of mind, George realized one thing before darkness overtook him:
—The shape he saw was that of a human.