Stupor

by Regina Wright

If Gods Can't Bleed, They Should At Least Be Able To Trip

I'm thinking that I should have thought this through.

“Where do you think you can run, fool!”

Attacking something that I had no information on or experience with. That's just asking for a bad time.

“How dare you attack my ponies in their slumber! Is there not an ounce of shame in your body, beast?”

But it feels like I'm winning.

I haven't been completely cooked by her lightning strikes.

"I am the Princess of The Night and you shall know my wraith! I shall strip you bare and make a magnificent robe from your hide."

Yikes. Is it wrong that I've been enjoying our one-sided chat? It's been too long since I've heard words that came from a genuine mouth and been talked to directly. Hell, she was even speaking English. The Hereafter is a small place after all, go figure.

My tail was singed, a single black flame caught on the stub of fur that survived my entire rear end being fried by her magic. I took off like a headless chicken, narrowly avoiding another beam of lightning death by the giant angry lady. Then shifted my form into that of a gray wolf, picking up speed as I dived in and out of dream worlds, trying shake the mare.

There was no time for a quick bite. Only because I wanted to put in a little exercise for the next course.

That righteous winged unicorn was on my heels, a half mile put in by my speed easily matched by her colossal hooves. I swear to god, that wasn't fair. And then she had to cheat, trying to teleport ahead of me. That wasn't going to happen. I've dance with plenty of sentinels that tried to same trick, acting all-seeing and all-powerful. If she thought that sleight of hand was going work, her being the slowest responding sentinel I've ever met, she had another thing coming.

Why couldn't she get the hint? Take a better form to chase me and risk being eaten alive.

What else could she do? She was lucky I hadn't hid in a dream world and waited her out. I could've done that in less than a heartbeat. But I'm a dream that chases thrills, does the impossible and yes, I will dine on that magic horse if it's the last thing I do.

And who would there be to stop me if I took her out and made myself king of the night?

At the slightest flicker of her after-image forming in front of me, I'd pivot on my paws and corkscrew into another direction. Left. Right. Left. Right. Those hooves of hers weren't meant built to outmaneuver a wolf. I cackled, my laughter bubbling out as wolfish yips. Mocking her as I escaped again and again. I even tried my luck, having a quick victory lap around her sequoia tree sized hoof. Daring her to try to squish me and trip in the attempt.

There were so many way to bring that titan down. I just needed to think of the best one.

“It was you, wasn't it!” A blast here, a blast there. Shame she can't hit what she can't see. I'm beginning to think she's not even trying. With a risk to my escape, I had a quick glance back. Interesting. What a money-making sight. “If I only I could prove that my work wasn't...” Hell, she even sounds calmer.

That princess looked distracted, muttering words that blew the hovering clouds away from her over-sized head. Her hooves casually crushing the town around her as she read a floating document. Thank goodness, we left the dreamer in that forest. This was sort of blatant interference that gave dreamers the bright and clever idea to wake up.

The winged unicorn didn't have any sort of scroll with her earlier so I couldn't help but wonder when she got bored with our little song and dance. No wonder her 'I hate you, you intruder' speech sounded so uninspired. She's not giving the whole hundred percent. And you know what, I think I like this chick.

And as if triggered by my praise of slackerism, I heard her growl of anger before I felt it in the earth. The winged unicorn rose onto her hind legs and stomped, the aftershocks throwing everything not nailed down into the air. Then she roasted all that was falling to the ground, her horn obliterating the broken houses and buildings into ash. Thank god, I sunk my paws and claws into a tree when I had the chance. But I knew I couldn't last another one of her slick moves.

No lady, keep your eyes to your important looking work.

Pay no mind to me, I'm just small fry. A piranha the size of a guppy.

I made my way to the edge of the dream and clawed my way out so fast, I knew she had to notice. There was a subtle way of leaving dreams and there was my way, tearing holes into the constructed dream-matter to the point that the dream would drain out in less than a minute. Back out into the realm and skidding on a paved road made out of bunnies, I turned into a pile of harmless rope. Even changed myself green, a calming and totally not suspicious color.

A clap of thunder announced her arrival before the rest of her, teleporting to where she assumed I was. And she was right, I was still here. I couldn't wait to ask her how was the weather up there. I wrapped myself around her back hoof and pulled, imagining that I was as strong as a hurricane drowning a little island in the pacific. My body heaved as I was filled with strength, ready to put this mountain of a mare into the ground.

Prepared to be strung up like a pinata, Princess.

The winged unicorn merely lifted her hind leg and shook me off, flinging my sorry self miles into the air.

Okay, I should have imagined bigger. Grander. You know, sometimes I get a little too full of myself.

Flying through the air like a baseball about to hit a prized vase, I went for a quick save by immediately changing myself into a tiny canary. I have to think. What are horses afraid of in nature...? Snakes! It has to be snakes!

I grew, finally matching the winged unicorn in size as I took the form of a basilisk. My foe didn't not even falter, bowing her head as she charged with her deadly looking horn. I thew myself forward, narrowly avoiding being completely pierced.

Oh god, it burns.

The acid-like shit that spew from the tip of her horn stuck to my scales, eating through my transformation by the second. I quickly wrapped my coils around her body, holding her in place for my next move. Then I sunk my fangs into her furry flank.

At first, it was rather unpleasant. How often does one lick horse hair with a forked tongue? I really couldn't handle the conflicting textures but then I got what I wanted after all. The sweet, sweet meat of dreamer flesh. The winged unicorn, for lack of a better word, roared. Her hell-lit voice rung out, creating a surge of rain and lightning as she flew us into the air.

“You dare try to sample me!”

Too late. I enjoyed the little bite, soaking in the memory and power I stole. I focused onto the guilt, allowing myself to become whatever she feared. The winged unicorn threw me off her, somehow levitating me away in her glow. I'm surprised she didn't take the chance to crush me in her grip. Her mouth moved but it seemed my form had her speechless.

“Luna.” My voice had become that of a chiding woman, a single tone off from disappointment. “It has been a long time since you patrolled our ponies' dreams.” Looks like someone has some issues. “Things have changed since that time you sealed off that plane of yours a thousand years ago. We have experts and doctors to explain things that we couldn't back then.”

"Why can't you accept the help?” I took one step at a time, backpedaling on my four hooves. I don't fight things I can't beat and I did waste my surplus of energy all on the basilisk form. There would be a round two when I could sneak up on her later. I had a feeling we would see each other again.

The winged unicorn shrunk from her mighty height to size matching mine. Her wings clung to her sides and she glared at me before words tumbled out of her mouth.

Oh, how guilty were you, Luna?

“I don't need the help, sister.” She mumbled, her voice flat. “I have everything perfectly under control.”

My memory built body tilted its head, a sigh and then a thin, tight-lipped smile. Smooth, reminds me of my fifth grade teacher. Her sister knew her stuff.

“Ponies have been having more nightmares, reported as horrific terrors, since you've returned to your dream faring duties. For every pony that you reach, ten more suffer throughout the night. And with this dreaming disease that has led to fatal cases, I'm not sure of what to think.”

“How can I relearn what I've have lost if you won't give me the time.” The winged unicorn looked down, a scowl breaking out on her face. Ah, good old family drama. Now only if I could make a quick getaway. “I hate it when you believe you are right!”

Luna went on, ranting. “Everyone must drop what they are doing and hurry to hear out your needs. You act if I haven't dealt with these trifling troubles before.” She scoffed. “Equestria has lived through an age where their dreams were nothing but gurgled memories of their daily lives. Not true dreams. Not real dreams that, require, no, demand you seek answers from your inner self. To do less than that is giving in to the fears.”

“But what does have to do with you? You only deal with ponies during the day.” Luna huffed, her horn alight as she pointed it straight at me. “Forgive me sister, I have no shame in taking my frustrations out on you. And this doesn't mean that I have deep-seated things I need to work out with a specialist. I am perfectly fine, in both mental and physical heath, and I will prove to you that my work in dreams have reason.”

Then strangely, she lowered her horn.

“Now only if I remember to say this during tomorrow's meeting.” She chuckled before blasting me dead in the center, my form poofing. I shook my non-existent fist at her, watching all of my stolen dream-matter go back into the realm. I'd eaten those ponies fair and square, damn it! I closed my non-eyes. The sensation of my being, my purpose disintegrating as I first went blind, then deaf and finally numb.

I'd regenerate at some point, somewhere in this realm but I didn't look forward to the loss of time.

I still have McKinney to think about.

---

“And let the record show that the time of death was...”

Words went in and out of my head, drowned out by the vertigo I was experiencing. I never exactly enjoyed the regeneration experience for so many reasons I could write a book on. But I was back and ready for round two. Now only if I could get myself a little breakfast.

I felt a weight resting on my chest, warm water soaking through the fabric thrown over me. A sheet, maybe? Then I heard the sobbing, the cries of a woman in pain and along with the half-sniffles from other voices. Her grief-stricken moans poured through my body, shaking the slanted mattress under me. I tried wiggling my toes, couldn't, and got a bed spring creak that was missed by everyone else in the room.

I wondered what kind of dream I found myself in. Most dreams that deal with death tends to be more surreal and revolving around the dreamer in some factor. I didn't usually come back as a person. I tended to be reformed as the closest object near the dreamer like a rock or a tree. Nice things could strike a dreamer down with ease. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about returning as a corpse.

“Magnolia, we have to go. Magnolia! They... They have to take him to the morgue.”

“Get away from me!” The woman still crying shouted, gripping the sheets that I was under. “It's not fair. I shouldn't have to bury my son. Not my golden boy. You can't have him! You won't have him!”

“Magnolia, we talked about this being a possibility.” I didn't know who said it but it seemed he was speaking for the others. The atmosphere changing to that of a grim conclusion. “We knew that there was a chance-”

“Why can't you just shut up? Leave me alone! His body isn't even cold! If you listen,” She rubbed over my front, a few inches of where my heart might have been. “-his heart hasn't stopped. It's still going a-bump a-bump. We can't let them cut him up if his heart is still going.”

“Mother, please.”

There was a strange pressure building in my throat, accompanied by a sharp, darting pain in my skull. I rolled my neck, trying to ignore it. I had to play along. Letting the dreamer act out their morbid fantasy until I could safely get the drop on them. But I couldn't stop these weird impulses running through my veins, things I never felt personally but remembered from McKinney. My left foot itched. My butt was numb. There was a weight on my head that was uncomfortable as gravity kept on reminding me it was there.

My mouth felt dry and stale, no scent or taste waiting on my tongue. I couldn't tell where the dreamer was. I couldn't tell what was up or down. Something was wrong. And why would my insides be squeezing? Wasn't I a dead man? Was this the start of a nightmare for the dreamer, me morphing into some terrifying monster?

The pain increased and with a burst of energy, I bolted upright, the sheet falling off my head. My body groaned, my lips parting as I took in my very first breath of air. Inhale. Exhale. The throbbing pain went away, receding as my lungs went to work filtering the oxygen. Then I opened my eyes, confused with the trouble it took me to move the crusty lids. What the fuck was this?

I turned to the six people in the room, including the aged mare sputtering at the sight of me. They were ponies, no different than the ones I chewed on a while ago. Some had horns, some had wings. A trio wore white coats, their collective faces going white. And the one in a nurse's outfit rushed out the room to call the main doctor. The door slid shut behind her like a gun fired in a street. Everyone was waiting for me to play my part but I didn't give a damn about my lines. Why do I feel so heavy and thick?

I threw a bony arm to my lap and struggled to lift it to my face. My hoof rubbed against the extended muzzle that took up most of the space of my newly acquired face. I tapped at the end of my nose and inhaled, trying to catch the odor of a dreamer.

Nothing too strong but I shouldn't expect much from this form.

The smell of the dreamer was faint, scattered and divided by the ponies still stuck in shell-shock. One of them had to be the dreamer and if not, a little dream-matter was better than none.

I moved my hoof to rest on the mare closest to me, the one who must have been Magnolia. She looked up to me, tears running down her broken face. I leaned closer, our snouts nearly touching before I opened my maw and drained the essence from her form. She crumpled like an unstrung puppet, sliding to the floor with a loud, echoing thud.

It was delicious but oh, how hungry I was for more.

Comments

[Papa Oats]

i.imgur.com/AzahXjA.png

The story is amazing, and its definitely a unique idea. At this point its amazing, but I have no clue whats going on next.

[Dr_D]

Well, this is interesting.
I guess this person is going the 'then let me be evil' route.

[the dobermans]

Please finish this.

[DRaily]

The story is so damn good, I am hungry for more.