Dear Journal,
I survived another day, despite what you may’ve expected. I didn’t starve, though that almost seemed like a more pressing danger than anything else so far. Despite my expectations, the lights are all still on. I guess whatever automated equipment they use to keep the grid running can go twenty-four hours without human intervention. How long will it take for all the fuel in all the world’s emergency generators to run out? Another day? A week?
There were no visible changes to the situation when I woke up. Reality did not revert to its proper form as I slept, much to my chagrin. No cars had been moved, nor had any fliers been dropped by the millions from aircraft to litter the streets. I don’t own a TV, but I have plenty of neighbors who do. I found an unlocked door, and found that most stations have stopped broadcasting already. Of those that remained, I saw only signs of automation; old television shows and reruns and scheduled broadcasts. None of the news or local channels were broadcasting, though I spent nearly an hour scanning all of the remaining channels for signs of life.
I decided sometime early this morning that finding someone else alive is my first priority. Even if they think I’m a freak, even if they dismiss me as an animal at first, or consider my new form to be somehow responsible for what has happened, I have to try. The thought of being alone in the wreckage of a dying city, watching the weeds sweep in year after year to crack the streets and rust devour what civilization built; I can’t watch it alone. Maybe if I had kept my body I could’ve. I didn’t.
So I considered for a long time: if there were other survivors, scattered so that, say, one in a million had survived the strange culling, what were the chances I would wander into them by sheer chance? Very, very small. With such low numbers, low enough that I had seen no evidence at all they existed, it was possible we could all live together in the wreckage of LA without ever meeting each other, or spread to the vastness of the country where the chances of encountering each other shrunk even further.
Infrastructure is failing. It won’t vanish overnight, but I know that the delicate web that upholds a technological civilization cannot survive such depopulation. To keep a pale imitation of a first world economy going would probably require a million people. Does that mean we’re doomed to agrarian life? Is this the planet’s revenge for all we’ve done?
I can’t get ahead of myself. I have no idea what’s happened, or why. Only that some power, beyond anything I’ve ever suspected, is clearly at work here in California. The Internet suggests that either something similar has happened worldwide, or else something about local network connections requires close monitoring to function. Some quick searches around the net did suggest that sites located overseas were much less likely to still be up. The number of errors I encountered this evening was far higher than from this morning.
Granted I didn’t try very many. I’m grateful I spent the time and energy getting my laptop able to respond to voice commands, or else it might have been all but impossible to use. Maybe if this mess doesn’t fix itself, I’ll have to make a keyboard more suited to hooves. Of course, if things don’t go back to the way they were, there might not be much reason. It’s been two whole days with no evidence of a single human being in the city, or any changes to the net. If this was a localized disaster, surely someone on the internet would’ve been talking about it. As with the television, those few changes I did notice seemed far more like scheduled posts than active human activity. No post I saw anywhere had a single comment posted since yesterday morning, though again my search could not be exhaustive. It’s a shame all the evidence I might use to pinpoint an exact time is about to disappear.
Maybe if I had my fingers and knew what I was doing, I would try to make a backup of some of that. Time is the enemy now. The power grid is going to fail soon, and when that happens all contact with the world outside my city will be severed, maybe forever. I took the time this morning to copy a simple message to a few of the sites I frequent, as well as the others I could think of that allow user-submitted content. This simple message read: “If anyone is alive to read this, you are not alone. I am in Los Angeles. If you see this, call ASAP. Phones will not last long. I may be reached using my cell number…”
I would carry it with me the rest of the day, as well as making calls to my mother and brother whenever I got a chance. I left messages begging them to return my calls, or if they couldn’t get through, then to come to LA and join me here. Is there any chance any of my family is still alive? I’m not sure. Maybe whatever left me here has something to do with my blood.
Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with anything. I don’t know.
A little browsing took far longer than it should’ve, but it didn’t take long. I’m no computer whiz’, but I’ve always good with my hands. Machines, particularly diesel engines and trucks in general. That’s what I do at the garage, since I’m the only one there with that kind of experience.
This unique knowledge gave me an insight I might’ve otherwise ignored. If anyone remained with any knowledge of how radios worked, it was quite possible I could get in contact with a CB radio. I know of (marginally illegal) systems with the power to easily reach out through the entire city and much of the county beyond. How hard could it be to turn something like that into a signal beacon? There are survivors. I know it in my bones. I don’t know if they’re like me… for their sakes, I hope they aren’t.
I refuse to accept any other alternative, except perhaps that I’ve gone completely insane. If this is a delusion, it seems to be holding up supernaturally well against scrutiny.
So ignoring the possibility of insanity for now (something to worry about when things have settled down a little), I decided to devote myself entirely to be as conspicuous and noticeable as possible. I will get myself discovered. I will NOT spend the rest of my stupid, tiny horse life alone. Who knows, it may not be impossible to reverse this. Maybe there’s someone somewhere who knows how this awful situation got started, and what we can do to put things right.
I walked to the garage, mostly because I’m sure we have a truck waiting for service there with far more than the legal wattage of radio transmitter. Walking is awful, and not just because I still haven't learned to do it properly. Even dressed (or my best imitation of wearing clothes), my body doesn't just let me ignore what I'm missing and pretend the new stuff isn't there. I'm a quadruped now, so it's all moving around all the time. I know from experience that a fall or two isn't going to hurt me that badly, even if walking around makes it impossible to pretend I'm still human.
I couldn't begin to drive the truck, with its complicated pedals and shifting column and my own limbs shorter than a little kid’s. I could, however, use a screwdriver and some clippers. I disconnected the antenna, ran some extension to the third floor window, and stuck the antenna outside to hang there. This particular truck had the makings of a pirate radio rig; enough for me to record a few seconds of audio and put it on loop. Connected the truck’s battery to the grid while I was at it; no sense in forcing the thing to idle away and fill the garage with carbon monoxide.
I recorded a simple message, saying that there were survivors and the address of the garage as a meeting place. I said that I’d be coming and going around that area, but I would leave a note about my whereabouts if the transmission went down and I relocated. Turned the speaker volume up so loud they were sure to blow out if anyone actually responded, and turned the thing on a cycle through all frequencies (even the two civilians are supposed to have a license to use).
Yes, I did all that without hands. No, I don’t know how the hell I managed it. I’m still tripping over myself when I walk. Still struggling to accomplish even basic tasks. I tried to microwave myself a hearty beef stew for lunch, and found the smell almost set me to heaving. Meat. Apparently tiny horses don’t do the meat thing. Too bad. Maybe when I’m through struggling I can fight through the instinct. Bet it still tastes damn good.
Brought a sleeping bag and a few other supplies to the building in short trips, so I could set my headquarters up in the manager’s office. Figure if anyone hostile is listening, I’ll at least be behind a thick locked door. Granted, I’d probably be safer if I stayed hidden… if my survival was some sort of accident, revealing myself so openly has all but guaranteed whatever force caused it will come for me.
Maybe they’ll take me away to wherever they took everybody else. I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad. At least I’d have company.
Barring that, I’ll focus on finding survivors. It’s good to have a goal. Tomorrow I’ll try to get more familiar with this body; maybe figure out a way of carrying more than what I can wrap around my neck or hold in my teeth at one time. Damn is a mouth good at getting things done, though. Guess millions of years of newborns using their mouth to explore as much as their hands had good reason for doing it.
Please, if there’s anything like a God out there, at least let me find somebody. I don’t care if they’re the most awful jackass in the world. Anything would be better than this awful silence.
—A
Note: Instead of thinking about my disgusting new body, I drew a radio.
I am really liking this so far.
It's actually kind of interesting having no idea where this is going to go. Heck, part of me hopes we don't even find out what happened, but then again, that (and the continued absence of any other entities) would take away any narrative goal short of A futilely expiring.
I just read the first chapter as this was uploaded. Bliss!
Your body isn't disgusting, A. It's adorable.
Gratz on the feature.
Having your tastes abruptly change is annoying. A few months ago, I suddenly found myself unable to eat cheddar cheese unless it was the really sharp stuff—mild just made me retch. It wasn't allergies, but it's possible one of my meds is to blame.
6013532 (Bored artist is bored.)
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6013611
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"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival."
C. S. Lewis
6013611
Aww..
I never asked for diabeetus.
6011729
This is true. The likelyhood of starvation after the end of civilization is small if there are that few people left. There are types of dried and canned food that last forty years or more. Even assuming the narrator lives that long, they're likely to have found alternative food by then. I don't think bottled water lasts nearly that long.
6012499
Before I started posting this I forced myself to write an entry a day to see if I could do it. They're short enough that it isn't too much trouble. I've got enough of a backlog that I should be able to keep posting without interruption even if something comes up in my life to screw up the writing process for a few days.
6012840
Yeah, if it wasn't for the fence a brand new pony who can barely walk never would've been able to get away. Thank goodness for chain link, that's for sure. I've thought alot about the potential pitfalls of how this story might get boring, so I'll do my best to stop that from happening.
6013128
As much as that sounds like a ton of work, it also totally makes sense. Will probably be waiting a little while before the story's done if that's when you want to read, though. I anticipate it taking at least a month and a half, if not two. Of course, that's shorter than most stories of similar length, so maybe that's not a bad thing. (shrug)
6013314
People seem pretty sure the main character is male. I don't believe they've stated their gender yet in anything, so it's really just an assumption at this point. In point of fact, tank tops do exist for men, particularly to be worn as undershirts.
6013376
And here we are. ^^ Just one more day to go till the next one!
6013400
Me too! Thank goodness for artists or this story would never be possible.
6013473
6013521
I can think of one other possible goal: reaching a point where the narrator is at peace with their condition. I say this not to confirm what the story's going to be about, just by way of information. Though I probably wouldn't point it out if it was my endgame.
6013525
^^. I'm thinking I'm going to like the daily release schedule myself. Always something to look forward to.
6013532
Artist got to this one before I could.
6013586
You are absolutely right. I'm not sure the narrator was the sort of person before everyone vanished to know the difference though.
6013596
Yeah, it sucks. I had that happen with a medication once, though it was orange juice I didn't like anymore (too acidic I guess). I have to think being a pony would make it much worse. So many changes all at once.
6013660 Daily releases sound hard. I would never be able to do that. At least not if I wanted my proof-writers to take a look at it first.
Feral dogs are a big BIG problem in a world where people vanish. A few days without food and you have ravaging packs of the things.
Love it
6013708
I imagine feral dogs will be a huge problem. Even as a human they'd be dangerous, but as a pony who has no idea what they are doing, it can be easily fatal if caught in the open. Learning to protect yourself... making thick 'armor', learning how to buck properly will be key things, and even then against a pack it'd still be a very fatal situation if in the open.
A has around another day or two before that begins, but once it does it'll be an ongoing and very real threat provided that animals still exist to pray on besides A.
Honestly, A will have to eventually move out of the city, and start a farm of sort, if A wants to feel safe at all. But that'd pretty much be abandoning hope of meeting anyone else ever again, so . . .
I'm already looking forward to A realizing (and reacting to) the fact that grazing is actually an option to stave off starvation now...
You should have named the Story "the Omega pony".
Would explain more but I'm on the phone...
This is brilliant. Keep on rolling!
6013837
Not to mention flowers, hay, and oats as options as well.
6013845
Last Pony on Earth is a good enough title. I much preferred the first I Am Legend film adaptation over the others, it was much more true to the novel.
6013776
The other alternative is to plan to wait it out. A couple of months of supplies in a safe area.... The feral dog packs are worst when they start occurring. There simply isn't enough ready things for them to hunt in a city and they will starve themselves out and hunt themselves out over time.
But yes, the clock is ticking on the pony....
6013611
I think my heart just made a noise.
Cool, you're featured now! Congrats, Starscribe! I knew you could do it!
As for the entry itself, I hope A doesn't attract bad people at their base. You know what they say, be careful what you wish for. Then again, what's worse really? Being alone forever, or being forever with a jerk? Either way, I applaud A's knack for making all those things with only hooves. I would have trouble doing that with my fingers, so. Kudo to A.
Whoah, daily updates? Do weekends count? It'll be nice to have a good amount of stuff to read on my trip to class.
Though I'm wondering, if this updates daily, how long until it's finished?
Anyway, loving the fic, keep doing what you're doing :D
Many things in the way of stuff are happening in this story. I look forward to the continuation of happenings.
6013837 Depending on where he is.
Just grazing for sustenance is not enough for ponies in many places.
They build up a _lot_ of fat during the summer and autumn, and use that to carry them through the winter and early spring.
This is a story of a man named Stanley...
I shall check this out in a bit, playing Stanley Parable at the moment.
Would this happen to have been inspired by Life After People and/or Aftermath: Population Zero?
Would he eventually find someone, (somebody who ended up like a pony as the main protagonist) and pursue further to find out what is going on? Or would our protagonist eventually succumb to madness?
I really do hope that he finds someone
6014857 Yeah, I also read stuff that way. I made sure people could see the thing with whatever color background they had.
6014457 That occurred to me too.
6014519 Well, something has to happen in order for this to be an interesting story. As long as it's not nothing then it should work out.
6014902 I have to agree on that part, something must happen in this story or otherwise the protagonist is slowly going to develop autophobia, as in "Fear of being alone or of oneself".
I love this story, especially how it is dated. In my journals (I having them be called diaries), I write about what happened on that very day in first person. I do not say "Dear Journal," however I do copy down certain letters I've written. Also, I learn more about English Language Arts as I write something new. If it gets dislikes I rewrite it and launch a different story.
This is great! Keep it up, and good luck!
-The Solstice.
6014938 It does seem as if the author plans on having something interesting happening if my judgement of the first two chapters is anything to go by.
6013660
Yes to the food, maybe for the water. If it is regular bottled water then it will go bad after a few months as the trace amounts of bacteria begin to grow and multiple. Distilled water (sold at any convenience store or supper market along side the bottled water) should last indefinitely as it was boiled to kill said bacteria. I keep some in my house for just that reason...or in case I need to add a little to my car's battery.
Great story thus far--I'm actually liking this more than Last Man on Earth. That series just seems too slow to be fun, but had such a great concept.
6015036 Canned drinks?
Holy crap so many comments! I've never had a story get this much attention so fast as long as I've been on the site (just a year, so probably not all that surprising). It's hard to keep up with everything everybody said. I'll just say that I really appreciate everybody who took the time to say anything, even if there are now too many comments to respond specifically to each one. Good problem to have I guess.
6013674
It is, yeah. I would never dream of releasing without proofreading first (though I suppose this is a journal and the writer very well might make plenty of mistakes (or the software might). The only way to do it is write a week's worth of entries in advance, then edit all of them at once. It also doubles as a protection against the vagaries of real life
6013708
Yeah they are. I totally. Or will be. Or whatever. Glad I don't have to live there.
6013776
Too bad you can't tell A that. I don't think there's been any consideration of the long-term consequences of living in a city, particularly in such a dry part of the country...
6013837
They're not. I don't think A would be willing to do that even once that realization is made. Already lost so much as it is. Hate being a pony. Can't say I blame A...
6013845
I love the book, but if you knew where the story was going the way I do, you probably wouldn't think it an appropriate title. Just gotta trust me on that one.
6014035
I can't say the latest I Am Legend film wasn't an inspiration for the cover in more ways than one. I enjoyed the movie for what it was, however it was far weaker than some of its predecessors. I enjoyed Will Smith, but not alot else about that movie. Wasn't true at all to the book.
6014098
Do weekends count? Absolutely they do! We're in a weekend right now! Of course, a story that updates daily will probably be finished faster than one that updates more infrequently. Granted, I've been keeping up with a weekly story on this site for over a year now, and I've written more per week for this story in short bits than I would in a single weekly chapter (obviously much larger in size ). My guess is the story will be done in a month and a half, two months tops.
6014183
I think it's a moot point, I'm not sure A wants to eat grass under any circumstance.
6014457
In a roundabout way I suppose. I did watch that series several years ago, and enjoy them quite a bit. When trying to come up with a new human/pony story, it's hard to find things that haven't been written about before. Did now. Party times be had. I might want to re-watch one of those for review, though I know they made some points I didn't quite agree with at the time. Forget what those were...
6014949
Thanks! The journal format was my answer to how to write a story with a large scope and scale without having to make a huge investment and hundreds of thousands of words. If it works well, maybe I'll expand the universe with something in a more traditional prose. Guess we'll see.
6014985
I do have interesting things planned! It would be a pretty lame story otherwise.
6015036
Well this story does have the advantage of ponies over that series. I haven't actually seen it, but I can imagine from the title what it's about.
6015179
https://youtu.be/M8VRbaVNvSA?t=1206
From a movie called the "Lathe of Heaven"
6015179 His name is .....
6015161
I was also pretty sure A'd never actually do that because that would be embracing the change that has happened (well, at least not while still sane); the realization that it would be possible is likely to be revolting in A's current state. Which is why I want to see it.
But then I'm a sadist like that when it comes to protagonists I find intriguing and have started caring about .
A quote from Vladimir Nabokov (thanks ToxiClay for correcting me on this, much appreciated):
"The writer’s job is to get the main character up a tree, and then once they are up there, throw rocks at them."
I like that one... and so far it's what you're doing :)
6015581
That quote, more properly rendered
is from renowned author Vladimir Nabokov, who penned Lolita.
Daily updates, each chapter tied to the real life date? Very intriguing.........
6013660
The more you know! It was a simple misunderstanding on my side. Now the gender is cleared up, let's get ready for the next chapie!
great story so far
and great idea with the daily posting/date
p.s my english is bad i know
6016258 Don't worry, this story can help you. By using better English.
You mean idea, not idee, right?
Be careful what you wish for, friend.
reading this made me start to think about that kinda scenario if it was me in his furry little boots.... I start going a little cooky rather quickly
I can't wait to see what happens next!
Clearly, the person's mind has been abducted by aliens, implanted in a pony in a simulation of Earth for the purposes of the aliens' enjoyment of watching a human go slowly mad.
Because the aliens are sadists like that.
Hey, with this set-up, it could happen!
Either that or he's in a coma and 'It's All a Dream'. Or he's dead and this is his hell. Or he fell through a quasi-dimensional gate and ended up stuck in an in-between limbo dimension where the weird cosmic forces mutated him into a pony. Or... a whole bunch of other stuff gleaned from the more far-out parts of the sci-fi genre.
We're in an surreal situation where any of a dozen outcomes could be transplanted in and any one could feel both proper and totally ridiculous, simultaneously. The 'hook' of this unknown giant mystery will begin to wear thin with nothing to provide any answers or clues. Many such stories have eventually gone with the rather dismal cliché of giving the character flashes of dreams and visions to explain what happened, and that's just never satisfying nor very thoughtful in its conception.
Here we have a scenario where either he's been moved to a strange place and transformed, or everyone on Earth has vanished without a trace and he's been transformed while on Earth.
In either case, it's quite clear that something with immense power and absolute precision with said power is involved, and the protagonist is woefully impotent to do anything with regard to his situation. A little analysis then tells us that whatever the case may be, the protagonist can't do anything to help himself as he's dreadfully underpowered compared to whatever force is behind this event. Assuming that this is a 'real' situation and doesn't rely on the overused clichés of dreams/coma/purgatory, we are left with the conclusion that some great power with vast and potentially malevolent intelligence is behind what has occurred. This is the only possibility to explain the intensely selective elimination of humans AND his transformation, neither of which could possibly be a random event. Therefore, the only logical outcomes are that he's left here alone at the end and the story simply stops, he finds the effector of the situation and is simply obliterated by it's overwhelming might, or he is found by a more benevolent powerful being and rescued. There is one final outcome, but one which is terribly lazy and despise every story and show which has used it: he manages to stumble through a 'rift' and ends up back home. That feeble resolution was bad the first time I saw it, and it hasn't gotten any less irritating.
"Last Man on Earth" stories don't work well with a drawn-out twist and need to get to the point pretty quickly. Eventually, someone else must show up to explain things or the Last Guy finds some expository material which provides the info-dump. All the rest of the story is basic survivalist repetition and fruitless searching.
(It should be noted that an evil force tried shoving Alondro into a barren world and turning him into a slug... Alondro ended up taking over 57 universes with his vast intellect and logic after hijacking the evil entity's power once he'd formed a sound conjecture of its mode of functionality and used his slug slime and several coconut shells to fashion a simple quantum converter...)