A Journey Unthought Of

by Hustlin Tom

Chapter 26 REVISED

Bunsen Burner sat back in his chair, a pen in his mouth. His neck was craned so that he stared at the far wall, his gaze piercing into it like swords. Unconsciously he clicked the pen with his tongue. His thoughts were centered on the subject; they swirled around in his head, darkening his mood.

He certainly was getting a good deal of physical data about it from all the tests being conducted. Still, so many of the blanks were left empty. Why was there so much fear of the Ruined in the ancient world? Back then things certainly weren't written to be concrete and factual, but even in allegory there should be circumstantial evidence. Everfree Castle, the original Equestrian capital, jutted up out of the course of history as the site of the confrontation between Celestia and Nightmare Moon, and would have been more easily discoverable had the the forest not retaken it for hundreds of years. Were there other sites concealed in the hundreds of square miles beneath that dangerous canopy? Of further note, why did the Zebharans have such a positive outlook of them? In what sort of species did the fear of the Ruined meet with the awe and reverence reserved for the Upright Ones? Their position in equine record was unique, in that the perception of them was in such a contradictory state. Other races most could agree on back then. The elusive bat ponies, the Antrozi, were feared for their seizures being misconstrued as possessions by evil spirits. The sea ponies, now extinct, were mercurial but kindhearted. Then there were the real nightmares. Them.

Involuntarily Bunsen bit down on his pen as the memories came rushing back in around his barriers.

Strung up in green slime. Cool air blew across his face.

"Why," he asked.

The green serpentine eyes lit up at his question. Her magically constructed knife twirled in the air, illuminating her black chitin, her gossamer wings. "Because pain is beautiful," she replied.

The living nightmare continued on, his bonds dropping away. Orange flames crackled around her. Before she was consumed, she smiled out of an open, lifeless jaw and empty eye sockets, "There are more of us. They're sleeping, but they'll awake. There are more of us, and we are coming."

A bitter metallic taste brought Bunsen back to reality, as did a long, sharp fragment lodged in his mouth. He spat it out, only realizing after he'd done it that what he'd almost choked on was bits of his pen; he'd bitten through the plastic casing, and ruptured the core where the ink was held. The bitter taste remained but he held it in, neither swallowing or spitting. He quickly went to his personal water closet to wash out his mouth. After doing so he splashed his face for good measure. His defenses were back up again, and he could review his memories impartially from behind the colorless, thick membrane holding them back. Over twenty-five years and they still hadn't faded; they never would.

It was here that Bunsen slowly placed his hooves on the edge of the sink and thought as he stared down the open drain. They're sleeping, but they'll awake. Who had put them to sleep? The Ruined were said to be conjurers of demons, and They most certainly held that status in Equestrian lore. Could they have-

He looked up into the mirror, his eyes narrowing for a second. He returned to his office area and quickly put back on his labcoat, then exited his office, the door closing behind him a little harder than usual.

---

The door to my cell swung open, and my captor appeared. I had been lying down looking at the ceiling, but I quickly sat up. There was something much different about him now as compared to before. There was a menacing glint in his eye and a syringe in his teeth. Before I could move or fight back he had lunged forward and stabbed me in the thigh with it. I let out a little gasp from the pain as the needle sunk into my skin, and the mystery fluid drained into me.

"We're going to have a little chat, you and I," he declared coldly as he now stepped out of my reach, "and I will find ways to make you uncomfortable should you be anything less than agreeable."

"What the hell did you put in me," I asked angrily as I took the needle out and tried to apply pressure to the area as best as I could.

"Sodium Pentothal," he replied, "I had to make some adjustments for your difference in weight, but with the dose I gave you I'll have my answers soon."

"How many times do I have to tell you I didn't kidnap Lyra-" I then thought back to the talk I'd had with the girls not long ago and how he'd interrupted them when they tried to bring her up. "You've had her here all along haven't you, you scumbag," I snarled, "What have you done with her? If you lay a finger on her-"

"Lack of fingers notwithstanding, I've done no harm to her," he replied, "She's sedated, nothing more. It's only ever been about you. So long as she's missing I get to keep you for now."

"I don't care what you think I am," I said, lifting my hand for a second to see if I was bleeding or not, "but I'm not from around here. I might look like whatever you want to call me, but I'm not a 'Ruined', okay?"

"Did you create Them," he asked me sternly, clearly not paying attention to a single word I'd said.

My head was starting to feel fuzzy, like a layer of fog was growing around the inside of my brain. "Who the hell are they," I asked as my eyes began to droop a little, "the conspiracy?"

"Don't play games with me, foal," he angrily snarled, "I can make sure you stay down here forever if you don't answer how I like. The shapeshifters: did you make them or not?"

The fog closed in deeper, and I slumped back against the wall, my hands falling off my leg. "You'rrre completely nuts," I said with a slur as my blood began to leak up slowly out of my leg, staining my jeans, "I told you, I'm from another universe. s'That so hardta belief?"

"I don't believe you," he yelled, "Tell me now what I want to know or I'll break something."

"I didn't do anythin'," I replied a little more pointedly. My head rolled to the side, and I giggled a little, "Wha' is this stuff? Feels kinda nice."

The stallion let out a yell of frustration before he crushed the fallen syringe underhoof. "He's too strung out to tell me anything," he growled to himself, "No matter. It's just a few minutes before he'll come back around." Still, a part of his mind began to wonder if indeed the subject had said all he could say. He dismissed it after a moment of hesitation. There wasn't evidence of parallel worlds. It was more likely the subject was from here, a member of one last pocket of the Ruined hiding away from the world.

Suddenly there was a rumble from above, one large enough to shake the dust from the hanging lightbulb.

"What in the starry abyss," he hissed before he turned and ran from the room, slamming the cell door behind him. He ran down the hall to the nearest intercom station, a pronounced rasp in his voice as he breathed heavily and spoke at the same time, "Comms, this is Bunsen Burner. What in Tartarus was that?"

"We're not sure, Director," the voice replied, "We're still gathering- Hold on. It's an Intrusion, sir! Something's impacted on the Floor."

"Take us to level 4 now," he declared, "All hooves prepare for appropriate level response. Lock down the Black Archive. Make sure not a peep comes from the Mad Adder, and secure our latest subject."

"At once, sir," the voice replied. Klaxons almost immediately began to sound, and the lights were powered down to pave way for the emergency red colored lights. Bunsen galloped up the stairs from the cells towards the Floor, all while others ran to their stations and the intercoms blared, "Intruders detected. RSD compromised. Location: Floor. Location: Floor."

Beneath even the floors of the human's prison there was another chamber. A large domed room was keep separate from the rest of the facility, sealed off from the world above. Nothing but two guards were ever allowed in beyond shift changes. The small room that they called their work space was close quarters, an observation room with a thick glass pane allowing sight out into the center of the dome. A small, blinking red light appeared, though its presence wasn't without warning. The guards had felt the tremor just like everyone else. Their eyes were now glued to their prisoner, near unblinking. The both of them were anxious, unsure of how long they would be at Level 4, but that it would be longer than either of them would like. Inside the dome, directly in its center, sat the statue of Discord, his mismatched forearms up as if to defend himself from them, his eyes frozen in a panicked state. For the first time since they had been posted to this assignment they were no longer sure whom was trapped with whom. The glass was too thick for them to hear anything from inside the chamber, but if they could their blood would have frozen solid. Though his mouth never moved, the Lord of Chaos' chuckle could be heard softly bouncing off the dome walls.

Comments

[Luckyfanisaac]

The fog closed in deeper, and I slumped back against the wall, my hands falling off my leg. "You'rrre completely nuts," I said with a slur as my blood began to leak up slowly out of my leg, staining my jeans, "I told you, I'm from another universe. s'That so hardta belief?"

"I don't believe you," he yelled, "Tell me now what I want to know or I'll break something."

Oh great we got a lock brain.
Lock brain - someone who is closed minded.