• Published 7th May 2015
  • 9,387 Views, 1,544 Comments

Actually, I'm Dead - Wave Blaster



What if the Alicorn Amulet did more to Trixie than we saw?

  • ...
38
 1,544
 9,387

Chapter 2: D.O.A.

The being formerly known as Trixie Silverlight Lulamoon stood mesmerized before the mirror. Two lifeless eyes with pale purple irises looked back.

“What…” she thought.

The once-Trixie couldn’t take her gaze away from the mirror and it took her every single bit of willpower to hold her tears back. The nightmarish creature gazing back from inside the mirror wasn’t like Trixie in anything. The mane was a disaster, so tangled and stiff that it looked more like an old spider-web. The coat was dirty, all sweated over and sticky, flat against her skin. And her figure, the one that she managed to sustain, even under poverty and hard labors, was now more reminiscent of a dead tree than a mare. All of that, under a new paler tone. The reflection in front of the once-Trixie wasn’t that of a living pony.

“This can’t be,” she whispered in dread, reaching for the mirror.

To the once-Trixie’s horror, when she lifted a hoof, the reflection did the same. She jerked back in shock, still unsure if the image of the mirror was real or just a cruel joke. Trembling, she began to reach back for her own face instead. When a hoof, thin as a dead branch, touched the almost white face of the reflection, she barely felt it, but she knew that it was her own hoof, touching her own face. The face of a dead pony.

“This abomination,” she thought again. “Is it really me?”

The eyes of the reflection were wide with horror, its muzzle hanging open in a scream that never seemed to come. The once-Trixie wanted to scream. Why couldn’t she scream?

Air. She needed air to scream. Yet even as her hoof remained on her muzzle, next to her mouth, she realized she felt no breath against it. She should be panting now, taking in great lungfuls of air in an effort to rid herself of the horrendous scream, but… nothing.

The once-Trixie realized that she wasn’t even breathing. She tried to breathe, but it was as if the basic instinct on how to do so was now lost to her.

By this point, she should hear her pulse rushing through her ears, only instead, all around her was as silent as a graveyard. If she wasn’t breathing and had no pulse... the once-Trixie didn’t let herself finish that thought, instead rearing up on her hind legs and frantically pawing at her throat. She pressed her numb hooves into the dull fur and chilled flesh on either side of her windpipe, desperate to find some sign of life, however small.

Her panic unbalanced her, her rear hoof landing in something slick, causing it to slide out and bring her to the floor. She just managed to catch herself on her left fore-hoof, only to be assailed by another sign.

Looking down at it, she saw her dominant leg, from elbow to fetlock, was covered in a sticky dark liquid. Its color looked almost black in the darkness of the bathroom, but there was no mistaking it; blood.

Blood was oozing from a wound no bigger than an i.v. syringe, open and looking like it was still fresh on her left foreleg. She must have torn it out while getting free of her restraints. It was the source of the droplets she now noticed going back into her room, the source of the puddle she had slipped in.

But where was the pain? How could she do this to herself and not feel pain? Frightened of the new find, she also finally noticed the blood was still seeping from the ragged wound, soaking her fur further. And she still wasn’t feeling anything.

“No,” she finally managed to whimper.

The once-Trixie forgot any pretence of composure or dignity as she let the first sob rack her body. Now she wanted to cry. Cry at her misfortune. Cry at how she had gone from star of the show to spectacle of horror. She tried, she really tried, but the tears never came. She could feel her lower lip and jaw quivering in terror, but no matter how much she wanted to, neither tears nor screams came from the once-Trixie.

All she could do was to let herself fall the rest of the way to the floor and curl up in shock, but not before giving a last look at the monster behind the mirror. One last look at herself.

From the chest of her dead reflection, she managed to see an object. The Alicorn Amulet, harbinger of her new misery, was no longer strapped to her neck.

It was encrusted into her flesh.


“Doctor Stable!” Twilight called to him. “How is she? Is she alright? Please, tell me she’s alright,” she asked, tears running down her cheeks.

“Miss Sparkle, please give the doctor some space to breathe,” Nurse Redheart stepped in. “I can assure you that he’s been under as much stress as you.”

“What’s the news, doc?” Applejack piped up as Dr. Stable and Nurse Redheart walked through the doors. The girls had been waiting there almost four hours for them. “How’s Trixie doin?”

Dr. Granary Stable looked like how Twilight and the rest of her friends felt; terrible. The caramel unicorn’s mane was sweaty and dishevelled, and he had deep bags under his eyes. Nurse Redheart, standing next to him, looked little better. “I’m afraid, Ms. Apple, that will require a bit of an explanation.”

With a weary sigh, the doctor sat down heavily in one of the vacant seats across from the six mares. Redheart remained by his side, taking her own seat. Ponyville was a weirdness magnet, and working as an attending physician there, Stable had seen more than his fair share. This last case though…

“Ms. Lulamoon’s condition is... difficult, as a doctor, for me to describe--“

“What in the name of the Sun did you bring into our hospital?” snapped Redheart.

All six of the mares turned to gape at the mare opposite them. Never in all their years had they seen the white earth pony nurse act in such a fashion. Her pink tail swished angrily against her seat as she glowered at Twilight and her friends, an action that for some reason her superior did not see fit to stop, or wasn’t brave enough to even try.

“What my colleague means,” said Dr. Stable in a weary, but even tone, “is that when a victim of dark magic is brought in, it’s expected that their care team is advised of the nature of that magic as soon as possible so that they may get her the proper treatment. Especially in a case as severe and abnormal as Ms. Lulamoon’s.”

“But you were there!” Rainbow Dash objected as she hovered over the rest of the girls. “You saw she was getting that crazy magic boost from the Alicorn Amulet, and then lost it when we tricked it off her. She just collapsed after from... from -- help me out here, Twi -- magic fatigue or something.”

Twilight piped up. “Yes! Magic fatigue, especially long term exposure to an artifact like the Alicorn...” She trailed off when she saw Dr. Stable sadly shaking his head at her, Nurse Redheart continuing to glower beside him.

“This was something far, far worse than just ‘magic fatigue,’ Ms. Sparkle. Though that had been our initial assumption, too.”

“So what was it?”

“Ms. Lulamoon was unresponsive when she arrived. We attempted... standard resuscitation techniques for ponies in her situation and with her symptoms. They proved ineffective.”

Fluttershy and Twilight let out a pair of distraught squeaks, Twilight being easily the louder.

“We were about to pronounce time of death when her Majesty and Miss Zecora came in,” said Redheart, picking up the explanation and trying to take the weight from the overworked doctor. “They had the alicorn amulet with them, and..." Nurse Redheart trailed off, her muzzle curling in revulsion. "They were able to stabilize Ms. Lulamoon. Such as she is."

“After that, we ran some tests to try and determine what happened.” Dr. Stable spoke again. “Our first sign that something was really wrong, though, was when we tried to draw blood.” The doctor squirmed in his seat. “What we got wasn’t blood at all.”


Even after dying, Trixie has her hopes and fears. She has her memories. Even beyond death, Trixie dreams.

She's got the Amulet in her hooves, finally.

She has fantasized with a power like this. She has dreamed of a power like this. The power to take the control, to fix everything, to set things right. The power over her own life. The very power of the gods, right in the pad of her hoof.

*baBum*

The Amulet is literally overflowing in energy, pounding like a war drum, and Trixie listens to it.

*baBum, baBum*

Trixie puts the Amulet over her neck. She's one step from the point of no return. Taking one last breath, she closes it with her hooves.

*baBum baBum*

Trixie can feel the power, surging through her like electricity through a lightning rod. But there's something she needs to do before fully using it.

*baBUM! baBUM!*

Trixie has to accept the power. She can’t just use it, she has to accept the darkness inside the Amulet and inside of herself to access the unlimited power behind it. To have limitless power, a pony first has to forget the concept of limitations. Like good or evil.

*BABUM! BABUM!*

Trixie's heart stops, so the Alicorn amulet can take its place. Losing it all has made Trixie's heart fill with rage and pain, hate and revenge. Trixie's heart has become useless for her, so she lets the Amulet replace it. Her blood is now spoiled, so the Amulet expels it from her body. Trixie willingly opens her mouth and the red liquid of life abandons her in a roar of rage. And power.

The Amulet's power is great, and its first test comes in the form of giving Trixie's veins a new blood. Something stronger to keep her going starts filling them, dark as the night and unstoppable as the dawn.

*BABUM! BABUM!*

Author's Note:

Woo, it took longer than I expected. Well, I hope this answer as much questions as it raises.

Edited (and kinda co-written) by nightwalker.

Thanks for reading, be sure to leave a comment.

Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!
Join our Patreon to remove these adverts!