Catatonic

by Stormy Night

Deepening Darkness or I Suck at Naming Chapters

Catatonic: Chapter Six

Pinkie Pie sat by the bed, staring at Twilight as she lay motionless. She laughed and smiled and joked, but all the while was hiding something. Beneath the facade of joy, she was scared. More scared than she'd ever been.

Oh, she had been afraid before. She remembered her first few weeks on the rock farm, how dark it had been at night out in the country, how the stones littering the fields had seemed like sinister sentinels, watching and waiting. She'd actually missed the orphanage those first nights. Her new parents had tried to help, tried to show her that her fears were misplaced, but they just hadn't understood. They were great parents, she would explain to her friends, and she loved them dearly. They were just more than a little lacking in the imagination department.

Her sisters had been a bit better, younger and more flexible in their ways, but they still took after their parents, and had a hard time understanding Pinkie's fears. Perhaps it was growing up on a rock farm. Moving the quartz and feldspar from one field to the next, dragging gray stones across gray fields according to ancient and convoluted customs, it left little to no room for imagination. To this day, Pinkie Pie wasn't even sure what the point of rock farming was. Some claimed that farmed rocks contained more or better gems, others that they were better for building. Some claimed that it was nothing but a centuries old superstition that had no place in the modern world.

It was her adoptive grandmother who showed her the way to beat her fears. Known only as Granny Pie to the entire family, on the rare occasions that they acknowledged her at all, it was hard to believe she was even a part of the family. The elderly mare seemed completely out of place on the farm, a splash of bright color amongst the gray stones and gray skies. She was always ready with a joke or a song to brighten Pinkie's mood.

One night, as the sun set and the shadows grew longer, Pinkie sat by the window. She was tired from a long day of working the field, but as usual sleep was elusive. The night brought darkness, and unlike the orphanage this farm had no nearby city to illuminate the gloom. As she stared into the growing darkness, she heard a floorboard creak behind her. She jumped, spinning in place and sending her long mane whipping through the air. As it settled over her eye again, she saw her grandmother standing there.

“Bit scairt o' the dark, eh?” She asked, patiently waiting as Pinkie deciphered her words. The combination of her thick accent, one that nopony could quite identify and was unique among the family, and her lack of teeth made her a bit difficult to understand at times. She knew this, and occasionally seemed to take advantage of it to say things otherwise unacceptable. “Ah figgered it. You set atta winder mos' ever night.”

“It's just so big and dark.” Pinkie said, scarcely more than a whisper. “And quiet.” Outside, the night was still. The rocks sat in the fields, slowly and silently doing whatever it was they were supposed to do. 'They tell me there's nothing out there, but when it gets dark it's like my brain makes stuff there anyway.” A tear formed at the corner of her eye.

“Naw, naw. Donchu be crine dearie.” Granny Pie said, pulling Pinkie into a tight hug. “Theah ain't nuttin awt theah goan getcha. An' if they was, theah's a secret way to git it gone.” She pulled Pinkie close, whispering the next few words in her ear. “Ya gots ter stand up tall, and loin ta face yer fears. They cain't hoitcha, all ya do's laugh and dem nast thing's'll just disappear.”

The words, between accent and whispering and lack of teeth, were even harder to understand than usual. Pinkie was struck by the sudden idea that Granny Pie was purposefully exaggerating them in order to have some fun.

“I dunno Granny.” Pinkie said, as the words sank in. “When I'm scared it's so hard to laugh. It's like all the happiness is being sucked out of me.”

“Tha's the secret Pinkie.” The old mare grinned. “They's so much happiness inya that ain't nuthin awt theah can take it 'way. Ya just gots ter know how to fahnd it, that tahny lil core o' light an' warmth inya heart.” She tapped Pinkie's chest with one hoof. “An' then jes' let 'er rip!” Granny Pie let loose a howling gale of laughter, strong and hearty despite her withered frame.

Pinkie reached down deep, searching her heart for that spark, that warmth of laughter. A tiny ember of vivid blue light burned there, and she reached for it. It responded, growing in size and brilliance until it filled her. She drew in a deep breath...and sighed. The warmth dissipated, leaving only the cold and the dark.

The next day, as she lugged another rock from one field to the next, she found herself thinking of Granny Pie's words. She looked up at the sky. A thick blanket of clouds filled it, heavy with impending rain. Suddenly, a vast sound filled the air. A colossal booming from somewhere off in the distance. As she watched, a ripple of multicolored light spread across the sky. Clouds were shredded by its passage, and the brilliant ring of light continued to grow. It was the single most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

She wished dearly that that beauty were still with her as she kept watch over Twilight. The hospital room seemed even darker than the nights on the rock farm. Closing her eyes she looked deep down into herself. She tunneled her way down to the very core of her being, her thoughts focused on the spark of laughter in her heart. Finally, she found it. It was small, buried under fear and darkness, but as bright as ever.

Drawing on that light, she laughed. It wasn't as strong or as loud as she would have like, and it didn't last nearly long enough, but it was something. Even such a small laugh helped alleviate the suffocating atmosphere of fear in the room. The others looked at her, varied emotions in their eyes.

“It seems hardly the time for laughter, Pinkie darling.” said Rarity. “Rather disrespectful, no?”

“Well, like Granny Pie always said: You have to giggle at the ghosties!” Pinkie said, smiling. “It isn't doing Twilight any good if we all sit around being mopey, is it?”

“Ah reckon she's got a point there, Rarity.” Applejack drawled. “Ah mean, if alla mah friends were unhappy, an' it was 'cause of me, Ah reckon it'd make me feel just terrible.” She sat, eyes turned toward her comatose friend. “She needs to know we're here for her, but she wouldn't want us mopin' around an' bein' miserable.”

The gathered ponies sat in silence, The only sound the constant mechanical melody of the machines that monitored Twilight's condition. The clock on the wall marked the passing of each second with a deafening tick. Outside the window the ponies of Ponyville went about their daily routines, enjoying the beautiful summer weather.

Applejack walked slowly over to the bed. She sat at its side and bowed her head. One hoof rose to rest gently on the mattress.

“Twilight, Ah don't rightly know if y'all can hear me, but Ah don't reckon Ah care right now.” Her voice was calm and even, her eyes closed. “Yer friends're all here for ya, an' ain't nothin' gonna change that.”

Twilight

The warmth grew faintly stronger, and Twilight smiled. She wasn't sure why, had no idea what could have made her smile in this place. Looking around, she certainly didn't see anything worth smiling about. Of course, she still didn't see anything at all.

She allowed the feeling to wash over her. Small though it was, it provided immeasurable relief from the otherwise absolute pain and loneliness.

That tiny tendril of warmth, the only positive feeling this endless void had to offer, was already flickering and fading again. She tried in vain to find its source, but saw only more darkness. Sighing, she turned her attention forward, or rather toward what she assumed was forward. The general direction in which she was slowly moving, pulled along by the terrible grip of that unspeakable cold.

The darkness was now broken, and she had decided that it was definitely a bad thing. In the distance, perhaps inches away and perhaps an infinity of miles, was a tiny glimmer of light. Its vivid purple color reminded her of her own magic, but somehow different. Tainted.

The light terrified her even more than the darkness had. It seemed to radiate cold and fear, wrapping them around her in an ever-growing web of icy tendrils and drawing her deeper into this infinite darkness.

Worse, far worse, than the way it pulled at her was the way it affected her thoughts. The longer she spent here the more she almost wanted to give in. Wanted to give up her grip on that delicate lingering warmth and let the cold swallow her, consume her and obliterate her.

It whispered, not in her ears but in her mind, that if she were to just surrender, just give in to the darkness and stop fighting it then all of her fear and pain would end. Its voice, so familiar but continuing to evade recognition, was a constant presence in her pain-addled mind.

Trembling, she tightened her mental grip on the warm feeling and steeled herself against the cold and the dark.

“My friends will save me.” She whispered, fighting the dark presence's words with her own. “They won't let me down.” The names of her friends became a mantra as she passed through the timeless void. “Applejack. Fluttershy. Rarity. Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash. I know you'll come for me...”

Luna

Princess Luna returned with her sister to the castle, silently cursing herself for her lies. While it was Celestia who had told them that they both had work to take care of in Canterlot, Luna still felt guilty of a lie by omission.

In truth, her 'royal duties' were extremely limited. Few ponies bothered attending her night court, and during the day she usually either slept or worked on learning the history she'd missed. She did, however, have something she wanted to do.

Settling herself amidst the cushions of her bed, she closed her eyes and drew on her magic. The cool silvery glow, so much like the moon's own light, gently illuminated the room. The spell took shape, a familiar one of her own invention that allowed her to wander the metaphysical plane in which dreams were born. The Well of Dreams united all sentient beings, and the spell allowed Luna to walk in that realm, to see and even visit the dreams of those who slept.

When the spell was completed, she allowed herself to sleep. Her room vanished, and the Well of Dreams appeared around her. It was a barren and empty realm, dusty gray ground and black skies. It was, she mused, not unlike the surface of the moon. Unsurprising given that she had developed the spell over the course of her thousand-year banishment for a much more insidious purpose.

The main difference between this realm and the moon was that, unlike the cold and dusty lunar orb, the Well of Dreams was littered with countless floating spheres of light. Each one was the intersection of a sleeping being's mind and the Well, and each was a gateway into the subconscious of that being.

This part of the well was not one that she enjoyed visiting. Here the shadows were deeper, the air colder, the dreams darker. This was the plane of nightmares and delusions, of illness and fear. These dreams were filled with negative emotions, riddled with mental toxins. She allowed herself to wander, focusing her thoughts on Twilight and letting her spell take over. Independent of her control, her body picked its way through the orbs. She trembled as stray tendrils of fear and hatred brushed against her, brushing them off as one would a spiderweb. Finally, she stopped. Her destination drifted before her.

Twilight's dream was one of the worst she had ever seen. The orb was pitch black, exuding a nearly palpable miasma of shadows. Negative emotions seethed and boiled within, amplified by pain and isolation. Nearly sick at the thought of entering such a realm, Luna touched the tip of her horn delicately against the orb.

The pain was immediate and exquisite. A cold spike of unbearable agony that ran through every nerve at once. She cried out and fell back, a cloud of dust rising around her. Her breath came in quick pants, and her coat was slick with sweat. The orb hung, unchanged, in the air before her. She had encountered resistance to her entry before, but never so violently. This dream would not allow her presence. Her horn flared once more as she terminated the spell. The Well of Dreams vanished.

She awoke in her bed, immediately aware that she was being watched. Two gleaming amber eyes stared at her, meeting her gaze without blinking. Captain Silver stepped out of the shadows, bowing slightly before her.

“My apologies, Princess.” He said as he rose. “I heard you cry out, and thought there might be a problem.”

“It is nothing, Captain.” Luna replied, still shaken from her experience in the dreamscape. “Just a bad dream.” One that I fear has only just begun. She thought, as the captain made his exit. She fell back into the pillows, exhausted but unwilling to allow herself to sleep. Eventually she lost her battle, and fell into a sleep mercifully without dreams.

Author's Note:

This chapter was tough, partly because it legitimately was and partly because I'm a terrible procrastinator.

I'm trying to actually make some progress towards resolving the plot and revealing the culprit and all that, some of which may or may not have been hinted at here. That of course depends on your definition of the word hints. There is one very vague first hint toward what may or may not be the nature of our culprit in this chapter.

And also, Pinkie Pie. I spelled out some of my interpretation of her past here and some of you may disagree with me on it. I don't think Pinkie could possible have been born to that family, so I made her adopted. More revelations about her past to come, methinks. Also, Granny Pie's accent is in no way based on any real accent. Kind of a mishmash. Bits of a southern drawl mixed with a thick Cajun, plus miscellaneous stuff. Supposed to be incomprehensible and really Granny's way of messing with whomever she's talking to. Mostly her own fabrication rather than something she came by naturally y'see.

Anyways, I'm gonna try and get more motivated to write more soon. Thank you all for your comments and your support. You guys are awesome!

This has been Stormy Night. Long days and pleasant nights everypony.

Comments

[Aero]

Nice dude. :) I have part of that story I was talking about earlier. Needing the identity for the 3rd chapter. Not right now. Just whenever you feel like it, friend! :D :D

[APoeticHeart]

Another deep, great chapter. Also Twilight, Spike is there too along with your friends.

[Stormy Night]

3244682

Glad to hear it. The further I get the less sure I am about what I'm doing, so comments like that really do help.

Overall I'm rather disappointed with the progress I've made. Been working on this story, or trying to, for three weeks now and this is all the progress I've made. There are folks who put out single chapters that are longer than this entire story so far, which makes my work seem a bit inadequate.

So yeah, glad to hear that I'm doing something right.

[Harwick]

I enjoy the moody nature of this story...the grief of her friends, the fears of Twilight and the love that connects them makes for a touching mix. Looking forward to the next bit!

[Exo Zane]

Doing great! Mind adding me in? I will havpe come rushing in, saying I had heard what happened. I can PM you what I say.