Gears in the Void

by Lab

Doubt and Guilt

It was great to finally be at peace with the deaths I had witnessed, the memories of life brutally cut down by the plague. They wouldn't be forgotten, and I’d still miss them, but the oppressive weight was gone. Could have done without actually reliving it, but whatever, the feeling it left was almost enough to put a bounce in my step. I hadn't even realized how much it hurt—after a while it gets tuned out like elevator music.

Although I was feeling better than I had in a long time, the endless darkness around me didn't sit well in my gut. Well, darkness wasn't exactly correct: I could still see myself like I was standing in a normally lit room. How I was standing was another awkward issue. With nothing below or around me, panic slowly trickled into my heart to await the inevitable attack.

Thankfully, the terrifying monotony was short-lived as pieces fell from above. As they found their places they slowly formed a room that was a bit too fancy for my comfort. It was weird seeing chunks of the room fall—a chair here, a few books whose bookcase hadn't appeared yet there—and I didn't even notice a luxurious, carpeted floor rise from beneath until it rested against my hooves.

The carpet’s touch made me jump, but the floor remained stable. When the last item, a bust of some bearded dude I didn't recognize, found its position, I noticed David and Luna were also in the room. He was also completely bewildered at the change of scenery, but Luna wore a smile so knowing she probably owed Celestia a fair amount of bits for trademark infringement.

"Would one of you explain what the hell just happened?" Dave sighed, turning a chipped antique chair resting in front of an equally ancient desk and dropping into it. "And why we're one obnoxious bird short of being in Poe's study?"

Remarkably, the room was in excellent condition. Sure, it looked like a swift breeze would dismantle most of the furniture, but there was the distinct lack of stinky, dead things that usually adorned any place I visited. The desk Dave sat at was empty save a few uninteresting knick-knacks and a layer of dust so thick you could grow crops in it. Three bookcases took up an entire wall, their cluttered shelves throwing the barren desk in sharp contrast. An uninspired painting of a landscape occupied another side of the room alongside countless empty picture frames and two lamps providing the only light. In a desolate corner stood a covered body-length mirror, and I wasn't going to be the one to remove the sheet.

The satisfied voice of the alicorn felt barely out of place. "It would seem Sterling has vanquished the first of however many nightmares."

"Three. It's the magic number for these sorts of things." I didn't know what was so special about that number, but damn if it wasn't a good starting guess for nearly anything. Three pendants to get into the castle, three good movies about a whip-cracking archaeologist, and three parts in a self-referential tricolon.

"Interesting theory," Luna muttered.

"So, who's ready to blunder through that door and figure out what we're supposed to be doing? I might not even MacGyver an explosive this time." Unless I could help it. Luna obviously didn't get the reference, but with the way she winced, she understood well enough.

Dave gestured toward the mirror. "Shouldn't we check that thing out?"

The look I gave him was usually reserved for those who ask for me to go on a snipe hunt. He stared back and gestured for me to elaborate. Sighing, I said, "It has trap written all over it. All it's missing is a tiled floor where you have to guess the right symbol to step on."

His eyes widened as he regarded the corner again. "Pit, spikes, or darts?"

"Hell if I know. Could even be a rolling boulder, but that'd be an odd architectural feature in a place like this."

Luna said, "Perhaps it had the same designer as whoever placed your sister's home in that large brick building." My heart ached at the fresh memory. Too soon, Luna. Too soon.

"How can you live with yourself?" The pale cloth fluttered as the muffled voice spoke.

I was already at the door. "And the creepy voice cinches the deal. Let's go."

"And if dealing with this mirror is the way to resolve the current nightmare?" Luna inquired as she took a couple of steps towards the covered object.

"I don't think the solution would be right at the beginning. I'll take my chances with the inevitable horde of living dead. Ready, Dave?" I opened the door just to have it fall off its hinges and fade away. "That was interesting."

Shaking his head, Dave sighed. "Yeah, I'm just going to ignore that one. You have my axe."

"That's not how it goes," I deadpanned, although the expression faltered when I caught Luna rolling her eyes. It was one thing to see another pony or Dave roll their eyes, but when it was Luna or Celestia, I can’t resist laughing.

At first glance, the hallway appeared ordinary: evenly spaced, lacquered doors and peeling, snot-green wallpaper that was too ugly for even a nightmare. Lamps identical to the ones in the previous room bisected the space between every other door. What shattered the illusion of normalcy was the lack of an end. There were doors as far as the eye can see in both directions, and no doubt even further than that.

"I don't remember ever being in a place like this," I grumbled. The length of the hall subtly twisted side to side, and I hoped it was just me seeing that.

"This certainly is more akin to a nightmare." Luna sighed with similar gusto.

Dave groaned as he joined us. "I am so done if music starts playing and we get chased in and out of random doors. I am in no mood for a slapstick routine. Does this look familiar at all, kid? I've been drawing blanks since I got here."

"So much for being a guide, let's go that—" The random direction I’d pointed now led to a familiar, covered mirror sitting in the middle of the hall. You could almost hear the bricks hitting the ground. Unanimously we turned back to the room we’d just exited and found a blank wall. When we looked back, the stalker mirror was within touching range, the cloth continuing to billow in an unseen wind. Could I even file a restraining order against furniture?

"You know you deserve death."

"Alright, fine! I'll pull off the damn sheet!" The cloth felt slimy between my hooves as I yanked it from the mirror before my party members could voice their silly logic and reason. "There. Are you happy now?"

The sight of the zombie within drained the blood from my face. He wore a mangled jacket over a t-shirt that had no business being in such a great condition, and his jeans should have been taken out back and put out of their misery. Chunks had been ripped out of his legs and arms, showing me more about anatomy than I’d learned in the actual class, and I would have preferred the coloring book over this.

Matted, brown hair tenuously clung to what remained of his scalp in clumps, and one of his eyes was missing, replaced by an abyss rivaling the Mariana Trench. Zombies don’t normally have an expression, but the pleased smile on this one’s face churned my gut. He resembled nobody, but I instantly knew who was looking at.

"You…" Dave nearly dropped his axe in shock.

Before us or the mirror could speak another word, I roared and bucked the mirror into a thousand pieces of frozen quicksilver. They exploded in slow motion before flipping gravity the bird and hanging in the air, leaving the entire direction blocked by floating shards. Every single shard reflected the same decaying face back at me.

"I'm glad you remember me, Dave, but it's hardly been a week, hasn't it?" The corpse laughed, and even his voice sounded rotten. "And you brought Princess Luna to visit little old me? I'm touched."

"Begone, beast. You have no place here."

"As much as I hate outright ignoring you, Woona—" he laughed at Luna’s seething rage "—I'm gonna have to say no. I'm here to stay, and I think I'll take Sterling Gears to keep me company." Just hearing my name in that voice flared my anger.

I bucked again, disturbing only a few shards that lazily floated away. It was less effective than punching a river. "Get out of my head!"

"Your head? I'd like to say we have joint custody."

"This is your last warning. Leave or I will send you straight to Tartarus, where you belong."

Another grim chuckle. "We both know you can't do that. Oh, it seems you have guests. I hope you recognize them all, Sterling Gears. They've been waiting for this for a long time."

A plethora of doors creaked open, and I spun around while Dave kept an eye on the hovering shards. People shuffled into the hall, moving in the unmistakable style of a zombie, but that's where the similarities ended. The usual smell wasn't present, and there were no gaping wounds. Where there should have been blank faces with open, moaning mouths, there was only the violently scowling faces of the past. They slurred actual sentences, but with all of them speaking, it congealed into an unsettling din. Luna, who had apparently forgotten using all her ammunition, sighed with exasperation as her gun clicked with three successive pulls of the trigger.

My body was paralyzed, forcing me to watch with eyes as wide as saucers as they advanced. It couldn't be right, I’d watched all of them die! All of them were dead!

The mirror laughed as it violated the privacy of my thoughts. "Of course they are, but they didn't have to end up that way. Without you, they could have lived much longer. I'm sure they just want to return the favor."

A dull tugging on my tail almost snapped me out of my state, but my legs refused to cooperate. Something pulled me backwards as I quivered, and whatever it was pushed through the mirror bits.

Each face carried its own memory, returning me to each of their deaths. It was all my fault. All my fault. All my fault. My fearful stare was transfixed on the advancing horde until I found myself dragged into a musty, concrete room. The sound of the door slamming was barely heard, overwhelmed by my sobs and stammered apologies.

"Kid, it's alright, we're safe now." Dave's voice was faint and distant, and his fingers hesitantly ran through my mane. "Come on, you're stronger than this."

"The being who is responsible for all of this will be slain, I swear it. I will not rest until the deed is done, but we must complete this task first. Sterling, you must face this. Please, pull yourself together." Luna's voice strained as she moved a few boxes in front of the door. "Talk to us."

If it weren’t for their constant reassuring, the loop of self-torment would have never released me. My sobs died into sniffles, partly because I was calming, but mostly because seeing Anne again had already drained me. I still wasn't talking, but at least I wasn't completely unresponsive. I slowly pulled myself off the ground and into a sitting position to stare mutely at my hooves.

"I'm sorry." My throat felt like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.

"There is nothing to apologize for. We merely—"

I stomped my hoof and wailed, "There is! All those… things out there." Even my breath was shaky. "They were people I killed. Living people." The princess's wince made me flinch.

Shock played across her features briefly before she recovered and asked, "And what of the figure in the mirror?"

Everything was still a little blurry as I looked up at her. "It was me. It's what should have happened to me instead of escape."

"There is no need for such talk. That is a fate none deserve."

"Don't I, though? I wasn't kidding. All those people are dead because of me. Every last one. They were bandits, companions, fellow survivors. Some I killed because they had been bitten, but what if they were immune, and I’d executed them for no reason? Some had attacked me, but what if there’d been another way? What if there was a better answer to each mistake?" I could still name each of those faces: Finnigan, Gordon, Ashley, and so many others.

"Listen to yourself." My ear stung from Dave’s flick. "Nobody was immune. Have you ever seen proof that anyone was?"

"I never gave them a chance. I was too scared to try. I-I never even hesitated. I just killed and moved on like a monster."

"Enough!" Luna forced me to look into her blazing eyes. "I have faced monsters, and you are no monster. You cannot change what is done, but you mustn't bear a burden that might not even be true."

"She's right. I was there for some of those, and you did them a favor. Anyone still fighting after that long wouldn't want to join the horde, and you know it. Would you?" I shook my head. "Then stop being a whiny bitch." Luna gently whacked him in the back of his head with the empty pistol. "How do you even know what that word means?"

"I know an expletive when I hear one. What David—" she gave him a stern glare while he massaged the growing lump "—means to say is we're here to help you confront your issues, not hide from them." Dave grumbled to himself, and at the mention of 'royal pain in the ass,' Luna smacked him again. "I heard that."

“Agh! Same spot!”

A small smile found its way onto my face, and I nodded. A few sniffles still wormed their way into my speech while I thanked them.

Even though I was taking in the room for the first time, it didn't take long to complete the tour. There was little more than the concrete comprising the walls and floor. A small drain stained with long-dried water waited patiently in one corner. In the center of the room hung a frayed string dangling beneath a lightbulb, which—to my surprise—didn't flicker.

"This room is boring." The guilt fought to make itself known like sparks seeking kindling, but the fresh memory of the recent conversation snuffed each flame.

Luna had already begun unblocking the door. "I agree. Even the Gala is more lively."

"Why do you still even have the Triple G?" At her look, I added, "Grand Galloping Gala is such a mouthful. Does Celestia secretly like it?"

She scoffed and gave a coy smirk. "My sister? Of course not. She enjoys finding ways to discreetly ruin it. But enough of that, I believe it is time to finally destroy this nightmare, don't you? As the face in the mirror said, you have guests waiting for you." It was amazing how those words, so similar to the ones that had terrified me not ten minutes before, now inspired confidence.

Throwing the door open and holding my head high, I glared at the guilt zombies waiting right outside. Well, that was creepy. Upon seeing me, their chatter picked up again. Despite the chaos, individual questions pelted me like hail. They asked how I could have let it happen, and how I could’ve been so heartless. Accusations, pained cries, lamentations of the damned, you know, the typical audio at any PTA meeting. They refused to step forward and merely continued gibbering, but the three of us wouldn’t be caught off-guard.

"Are you almost done?" The tapping of my hoof cut through the air like a knife as their words died down.

Have you ever seen a confused zombie? They weren't technically zombies, but close enough. Each of them stared blankly. Was this not the same man-turned-mare they’d driven to tears? No, it wasn't.

"Well? I don't have all night." The last of the noise died off, and I smirked. "Got it all out of your system? Good. I'm sorry you didn't survive, and you’re right that things might have played out d-differently.” My voice started to hitch, and I risked a moment to look at the two who fought by my side, smiling at their encouraging nods. “But they didn’t. Do you know how badly I wanted to bring others with me? I didn’t want to be the only one going through that portal, and even though I don’t want anypo—anybody to go through the V-V—” the memories left me shivering for a moment “—through the Void, I would have taken most of you with me.

“At the very least, each and every one of you has no right being undead. I was always thorough. I did it quick, I did it painless, and those of you who attacked me first, it's your own damn fault. This is my head. GTFO." Dave whispered the actual words to Luna, who had to stifle a snort.

They froze and what little color they possessed drained from them. Curious, I prodded one with a hoof, and it crumbled to ashes at my touch. "Drama queens." I scoffed as I pushed through them and back towards where the shards floated.

"Do you honestly believe that will work? You can't hide behind your humor forever. They will be back." It snarled as we approached. "I know you. I am you."

Luna or Dave might have been about to speak, but I motioned for them to stay quiet. "I'm on a roll guys, I got this. And no, you aren't. You don't look anything like a pony, for starters."

"Dave said it himself. You're just a human in a pony's body." The mentioned man winced.

"I think I traded up. I'm bloody adorable now." There were small chuckles behind me.

"We were having an argument and were both pretty pissed," Dave said.

"And we made up, or did you miss that part? You aren't me. You're a might-have-been at best, something that would have only came to be if I failed, and I didn't. It's funny, isn't it? Your entire existence is based around a failure that failed to be." Several of the shards dissolved like the door had, bringing their reflections with them.

“Everyone you sent after me was a reminder of those who didn’t make it, a cheap shot at lingering doubts. What I’ve done is set in stone, and you know damn well it wasn’t worth the risk to look for another option. I refuse to feel guilty I was the only one who made it.

"I'm not a human hiding in a pony's body. You see me as I am." At least one shard disintegrated with each prideful word. "And just as you aren't me, I'm not you." The look of fear on the figure's face was satisfying. It wasn't my face, it only pretended. "I am Sterling Ge—."

Only the largest fragments remained, howling. "There is no getting rid of me. You are lying to yourself about the skin you wear."

"Rude much? My new life is not a lie—I am Sterling Gears… Equestrian." With one final, confident grin, the figure was gone, banished to wherever you banish things like that. I'm a doctor, not a banishment expert. Well, I'm not a doctor either, but the point stands.

The transition between dreams was much quicker and more gentle this time. If I’d blinked, the shift might have gone unnoticed, though getting the wind knocked out of me by a short fall would have been fairly obvious.

"Two down, one to go. Hopefully. Right guys?" Looking around the room—a hospital room, by the look of it—there was nobody but me. No Dave, no Luna, but thankfully no zombies as well. "Guys?" Of course I was dumped in a hospital.

They weren't on the other side of the adjustable bed, with its sterile sheets neatly stretched over the mattress, nor were they sitting at the simple table. Admittedly, I would have paid admission to watch Luna try to sit in a chair designed for a human's proportions, especially since it would have slid around on the smooth tiles. They weren't in the bathroom either, and my nerves crept up. They had to just be in a different room.

My mane whipped back and forth as I frantically searched the hallway. It should have been filled with wanton carnage, but this place looked like all the staff and patients had walked out the front door or never even showed up in the first place.

"Dave? Luna?" There was no evidence any of the rooms had ever been used. Maybe they were somewhere else in the building? I hoped they were alright and nearby.

My hooves were barely able to operate the elevator buttons. There wasn’t much room to pace, but that’s what I found myself doing when the next floor arrived. That floor went even quicker than the last, and it wasn't long until I’d fruitlessly gone through all five floors, screaming their names. My heart pounded I burst outside. The move was undoubtedly foolish with the zombies that would be waiting for me, but I needed to get out of there. It was obvious Dave and Luna weren't there, so I had no reason to stay in that damnable hospital for another minute.

Only, no attack ever came. No vehicles sat in the parking lot, and no sound reached my ears other than my own ragged breaths. Even the tumbleweeds were missing.

Even though the hospital was behind me, my panic remained, and I screamed until I was about to pass out. The sound would attract zombies, no doubt, but that meant nothing. My ears strained and swiveled to pick up any noise, but the air remained silent except for a few lingering echoes of my shout. Defeat and crushing despair were all that responded as I sat in the parking lot.

"I'm alone."

Comments

[omega-ze-wargod]

the ending FEELS.....but ho leh shit this is a GREAT STORY!!! WHY AINT THIS FEATURED!!!

[mapu]

Man I hate the "there must have been another way" guilt stories. I just don't get why they are such whiny bitches about it. My feelings about someone that attacked me dying are limited to "Heh fucker died. Nice." Might be just my mentality, here we kill/betray our best friend for a popsicle.

[IkioStar]

3031914 ...Personally I like the gritty feel to the overall story. It isn't bad enough that you feel depressed, but neither is it airy. Reading the story, I feel like I'm walking down an unused brick street, not damp, but quite dry. And at the end of this chapter I felt a hole. Quite literally, I felt that single line, and the driving desperation, (if a little watered down), and while the story itself is full of color, it has moments like these, where you can't help but see the greys and brown.
While I haven't seen too much with an exactly dark feel, I haven't read anything else that comes within a milli-measure close to being dark, before falling back to lighter humors, either. It makes for an interesting experience, enjoyable too.

ISA

[Lab]

3032366
Was it a bombpop at least? Or a fudgesicle?

I hear ya about the indifference, but personally, I don't think I should lean one way or another until it happens to me. As far as the story goes, I figured the rapidly declining population should play a factor, not to mention Gears's protector mentality.

[mapu]

3032583 nope, jungle pop
karums.eu/kids/upload/8344JunglePop_orange2.png

[Lab]

3032671

Eh, I might maim for a cherry one, but not outright murder for an orange one.

[mapu]

3032676 Well its not like that happens often, its usually grab and run's. Way less trouble wit the police.
My point is, if you are in situation in witch you are fucked, you stop caring about well being unfriendly people and tings really fast.
Also you don't have to shoot friendlies, if you think you have other way (just lock them up in a basement or something) really. or you can just abandon them, and come back after they should had been turned for a wile. If someone is too coward to put them out of their misery, he probably do that.Otherwise it falls into "I did what I had to survive" category. There aren't too many people that give shit about people that tried to kill them.
It ain't torturer who is having nightmares about what he has done. Its tortured one who has them.

[Lab]

3032803

Understandable. I just prefer experience over speculation when it comes to voicing my opinion on a matter.

It's also enjoyable and interesting to write about the troubled protagonist.

[booman980]

Dammit Lab I'm a doctor not a psychologist. I caught that startrek reference.

[TheBadWriter]

cute : 3s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/79/cb/6a/79cb6a43c8cb0512658b200256dd6471.jpg 40.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lpm0dfexZI1qm1zz3o1_1280.jpg img4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130805232136/mlpfanart/images/d/d7/Derpy_cute_blinking.gif assets.diylol.com/hfs/4b6/1df/41c/resized/mlp-chubby-meme-generator-im-cute-and-i-want-hugs-438ab6.png?1362142679.jpg images.wikia.com/mlpfanart/images/4/4e/Lyra_and_Bon_Bon_eating_their_tails.gif

[starship55]

SUCH A CRESCENDO OF FEELS !!!!!! This must be the lowest point in the story.

[JustSomeDyslexic]

"Three. It's the magic number for these sorts of things." I didn't know what was so special about that number, but damn if it wasn't a good starting guess for nearly anything. Three pendants to get into the castle, three good movies about a whip-cracking archaeologist, and three parts in a self-referential tricolon.

Fun fact three is "the magic number" because of the moon's waxing, waning, and full moons.

[Zanec]

Same criticism as the previous chapter.