The Human That History Forgot

by Avox

WILL BE

"W-wow," the colt mumbles.

The grandpa laughs. "First day on the job and you get to see an Upwalker? You sure are one lucky colt, kiddo."

The colt nods slowly in agreement, still lost somewhere in outer space.

"I am Sprocket," Stubbles says slowly and gently, trying not to startle me, "and this is my grandson, Gizmo. Who are you?"

"Hello," I croak, voice still hoarse from my supposed hibernation. "And I do not know."

He nods, taking a tentative step toward me. I nod, and he takes another. And another. And another. Once he's halfway to me, he stops. "How much to you remember?"

"Nothing."

"I see. And how much of our conversation did you hear?" Sprocket asks.

"Some of it."

"Might as well start from the beginning, then. You are the Upwalker, and I—we are your guardians. You need not fear us, for we are your friends."

I urge him to continue.

"You must've just recently awoken from your hibernation," he explains. "And soon, you will fall back into your sleep. It's our duty to make sure that you are safe before and while you do so, so when you're ready, we will guide you back to your room."

"Why am I here."

It isn't a question.

"We do not know. One of your predecessors was discovered here many millennia ago, and it has been the sacred duty of my lineage to make sure that he and his procession remain a secret. That's all we know for sure."

I cock an eyebrow. "...Is there anything more?"

"There are fairytales of your existence circulating, though they're just that—fairytales. Nopony besides the princesses and us know that you truly do reside here in the catacombs, and none of us happen to know why you're here."

I turn my gaze slightly to the left, and see that Gizmo is still fixated in the same spot, eyes glossed over. I smile a little bit at that, and Sprocket does too.

"Still alive over there, bud?" he asks with a throaty chuckle.

"..."

Sprocket rolls his eyes. "That would be a no, then."

He trots back over and gives his grandson a well-intentioned sock to the shoulder. Gizmo gasps in surprise, finally dragged back down to Earth... or whatever planet it is I am on.

"...I would like to go back to my room now," I ask politely, curtly.

Sprocket's expression quickly sobers. "As you wish," he says.

He spins on his hooves, heading straight for the passageway that I exited from not even three minutes prior. I follow a few paces behind, and Gizmo a few more behind me. I can't help but notice he's dragging his hooves, but I don't question it. It's not my place.

As we walk through the darkened corridors, I don't feel the same sense of uneasiness and dread that I felt before. Something else has taken it's place, though, and I cannot pinpoint exactly what. It's something dark, something gloomy. My heart feels like its being pinched, and it feels like I'm floating alongside my body instead of existing inside of it. It's strange, and not in a good way.

Eventually, we re-enter my little sanctuary. I sigh, and take a seat on my bed. The two ponies wander over and sit down in front of me, the smaller of the two still stark silent.

"If you need anything, we will be waiting just outside your room. Don't hesitate to get us if the need arises."

I nod, and Sprocket turns and leaves the room. Gizmo remains.

Head hung low, he saunters over to me. "Have a nice sleep, Miss Upwalker."

I smile a small, weak smile. The young equine wraps his hooves around me, and I pull him close, patting him on the head. The strange feeling inside me quintuples in intensity, and for a second, I can hardly breathe.

He hops back down onto all fours and smiles. It looks like he's about to cry, though I'll never know if he actually did, as he was out of the room before I even realized what had happened.

I sit there for a moment, wrapped up in my thoughts. Suddenly, I know what the strange feeling is.

It is sadness.

I just got this body. I've barely even had it for an hour. I don't want to fall asleep, only for some imposter to come and take my place just like I took that of those who came before. It's not fair in any sense of the word.

I shift my line of sight to the left, and it settles on that dusty old tome resting on my nightstand. Without thinking, I reach over and grab it, pulling it close to my chest.

The first thing I notice is that it's heavier and thicker than it looks. It's clearly seen more years than I could possibly ever imagine, so I treat it with a special tenderness. Something this antiquated deserves as much.

I gently peel open the cover, and I am assaulted by the smell of dusty paper and the crinkle of the binding. My eyes pore over the words on the first page.

From Number Four...

They gave me this book and told me to write in it, for posterity's sake. They say I'm the fourth of these "Upwalkers", and that there have been others before me. I was very confused, but I didn't press the issue at all. I just miss my kids and wife back home. I don't want to be here anymore. This place is weird.

Maybe taking a nap will clear my mind. I can only hope.

My heart stops beating.

No.

No.

This can't be.

I read onward, even though my gut tells me not to.

From Number Five...

What am I doing here? I'm scared and I miss my mommy. They told me I had to write in this journal before I went to bed, but I don't know what to write. If you're reading this, please, please tell me what's happening.

I frantically flip through the pages, heart racing a million miles per minute. My eyes stop on a particularly sloppily written passage.

From Number Seventeen...

Figures like that some shit like this would happen to me, of all people.

Something about ponies and humans and Eternity? I'unno. Doesn't really matter. I'm convinced that this is just some crazy dream—I mean, I know that weed is supposed to do this to you, but this... this is a little much even for me. If I didn't know any better, I would say it's real. It sure feels real, at the very least...

Here's to hoping my friends are just playing some stupid prank on me. That would be a nice twist, eh? Eh, whatever. I'm gonna try and sleep this off.

I tear through the god-forsaken book at a feverish pace. The words all blend together as tears stream down my face. The pervasive sadness from before dominates my every waking second, and my headache has returned full-force. It hurts to breathe.

My eyes stop on an unusually long passage halfway through the book. Against my better judgement, I read on.

From Number Two Hundred Fifty-Six...

What's the damn point?

Last I remember, I was on my way to Uni. I was a little scared, and a more than a little excited. It was the end of the beginning of my life—I was finally moving out. In a few years, I would finally start my career as a mechanical engineer.

But now I'm here.

It's weird. I feel like I should be upset over all that being torn away from me while I was so close, but I don't. It's like I've suddenly been plagued by this strange fit ennui. And I mean the funky, pumping-gas-in-the-rain, rivulets-of-water-running-down-the-windowpane type of ennui, not the razor-blades and nooses type.

I mean, if you think about it, it's all pointless. We go to school so that we can go to college. We go to college in order to get a job. We get a job so we have something that will while away the time until we're finally old enough to retire, at which point we're already too old to do anything remotely productive. Like, when all is said and done and humanity inevitably winks out of existence, what will have been our purpose? Nothing, really. I'm getting just as much done here as I would be there, so not much is lost, as morbid as the thought is.

Blargh. I'm rambling now.

I do think that I will miss my family and friends though. I can still hear my mom barging into the garage, looking at me tinkering with all my little gadgets.

"C'mon inside, Gizmo," she would say lovingly, using her pet name for me. As embarrassing as it is, it still makes me smile. "Dinner's ready."

...I haven't slept for three days now. I've read the other entries. I know what happens when I do.

If you're reading this, then, well...

My face levels, completely stoic. Eyes never leaving the book, I turn the page. It is completely blank, and atop it written in fancy calligraphy is "Number Two Hundred Fifty-Seven". Knowing what I must do, I reach over to the nightstand and dunk the quill into the inkwell. I hold it there for a moment and let it drip, and then I bleed onto the page.

Once I am done, I set the book back down onto the nightstand. I fall backward onto my pillow and my eyes flutter shut for one final, everlasting dream...

. . .

. . .

. . .

The next time the human awakes, she is surrounded by warm, blinding white light. The smooth, silky hand of Eternity clasps her own and bravely guides her forth into the nexus, step after gruelling step.

For the first time in a long time, the human smiles.

Author's Note:

I had a few hours, so I randomly cranked this one out.

...I am so sorry.

Comments

[Meridian Prime]

I don't think I entirely understood this, but I adored it all the same.

[The Good Boy]

so what i got from that is that that is like some sort of limbo or something like that

whatever it was a good deep read

[Dark_Night]

The author needs to expand on this a bit more. It held a great story but it felt like it was missing something.

[Bad_Seed_72]

Ah... I get it. I'm pretty sure that the Upwalker is a transitive state for dead humans before they are reincarnated as ponies in Equestria.

I hold it there for a moment and let it drip, and then I bleed on the page.

This would be added into my favorites for that line alone.

It's going to be added since this was brilliant. I think it could be expanded on a bit more, but as it stands, awesome little mindtrip. Well done.

[Avox]

5481890 That was the general idea, but I kinda butchered it five ways to Sunday with all my ramblings about eternity and "the point" and whatnot.

I find myself wishing I'd done more with this too, but I'm not sure how I would've made it into a better developed, smoother, longer narrative. But as it is, it was a fun experiment with first person and humans, so unless I think of something better, I'm content.

Thanks for reading!

[Bad_Seed_72]

5481998

You're welcome! For an experiment, I think it turned out well, myself.

[Hermann Goring]

Well I know this is an old story, but nobody really said anything about some things I believe some may find unclear, so in the interest of future readers I will say what I believe to be happening. Every half century a random human is pulled from somewhere into equestria regardless of age (possibly those that died however). Once they sleep, they are granted peace in a way by being allowed to pass on to the afterlife and obviously dying in the process.

[PaulAsaran]

You can has review!