The Chronicle of Relic

by SkeIePone

Part 1, Chapter 7: Boneyard

Author's Note:

Before you read, I wanna apologize in advance for poor quality. Keep a lookout for spelling and grammatical errors. And I might need some help writing the 'horror'-ey parts. I'm not very good at writing horror, so a coauthor who is talented in that genre would be great.

RIP, SkelePone

The Boneyard was surrounded by an enormous chain link fence, as before mentioned.

It was a long and tall and fairly impressive fence, but due to age and its close proximity to various chemicals and rusting metals, the fence was riddled with several gaps and holes along its mile upon mile of length. The fence itself was tall, possibly around five yards tall, and topped with an additional yard of curled barbwire. And beyond the fence? I saw hills of garbage, as well as stacks of rusted metal and even a few disassembled synths. I would have to forage for even more spare parts to add to my collection.

Beyond that, I saw antiquated appliances and even a few vehicles; ancient chariots and carts, even a few less primitive self-drawn carriages. Perhaps one of them was still operable? If we could get one of them to work, that would save us quite a bit of walking. And even if we couldn’t, I could possibly rebuild one from scratch. There were so many possibilities among all this scrap, that I had almost completely disregarded the fact that there was danger here. To me, a scavenger, this was not a place to be feared. This was practically heaven.

But Mica seemed to fear it anyways. Her blue eyes darted about, surveying the grand expanse. I wanted to know what it was that she feared of this place. It seemed harmless enough, but if she was that afraid of these ‘Patchworks’, then I was going to remain on guard.

Mica and I trotted into the Boneyard together, pushing ourselves through a sizable crevice in the fence. We both were in silent awe of the sight before us; walls of forgotten and unwanted machines, crumpled remains of FF-3 and FF-5 models, even the occasional limb or head of a more recent series. One residual framework struck me on a deep level; an FF-7, almost a complete replica of myself, laid by the walls. It had been decapitated and its torso ripped open. When I did a quick scan of it, I was shocked to find that the FF-7’s remains were completely hollowed out. I realized with horror that that is what I would become once I had broken down or succumbed to some terrible beast; I was nothing but salvageable spare parts.

After that, I made sure to load my crossbow.

Just in case.

“Remember,” Mica whispered as we walked between two separate walls of junk, “something could be watching us.”

I nodded as we delve further and further into the Boneyard. Eventually, the fence and the horizon with it vanished. And we were now completely surrounded by trash. Not only that, but the sky was darkening even more.

“Wait.” I said. Mica stopped in her tracks and looked back at me.

“What’s wrong, Relic?”

“This… This is almost like a maze.”

It was true. The winding path we were exploring? The tall, steep walls that didn’t let you see the horizon nor allow you to climb up over them. The way it seemed to twist and turn and branch off at random points where you would expect a single exit. The metallic walls of the Boneyard were composed of scrap metal and sheets of pure rust. None of it appeared salvageable, and even the items I did see that could be useful, I did not pick up. This was due in part to the sinking feeling in my circuitry. Something that told me that whatever it was that resided in this labyrinth would not appreciate having its collection stolen.

“If it’s a maze, how do we get out?” Mica asked, concerned. “All we gotta do is follow it, right? Aren’t mazes like puzzles?”

I pulled out the maps once more and gave them a look over.

“The maps say nothing about there being a maze. They don’t say how to pass through! We have no choice but to walk the maze and hope we get out by daybreak.”

“Why don’t we just climb up the walls?” Mica asked. Before I could answer, she leapt up onto one of the walls and attempted to scramble up the side. Several loose bolts and screws fell to the ground with a soft clatter, but Mica could only climb up so high before her hooves lost their grip and she came tumbling down. I walked up to her, lying on her back. She smiled up at me sheepishly. “No, we can’t climb the walls. So we have to go through the maze?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.” I shrugged. “Let’s hope it isn’t that complex of one.”

And so we walked.

Nightfall was swift, and we tried to be swifter. Every so often, I would get readings from my radar or either one of us would hear something almost like hoofsteps surrounding us. There was absolutely no doubt that we were being watched. I wasn’t sure if it was these Patchworks that everypony had been warning me about. If it was, then I didn’t want to meet them.

Mica didn’t make so much as a peep as we trudged through this metallic hellscape. I could understand why. The decapitated bodies of FF series synths littered the ground, some of them reminding me far too much of myself. I avoided looking closely at any FF-7 bodies, but all other series were subjected to a thorough scavenge for spare parts. Beyond these bodies strewn about, nothing of value could be seen. I wanted to continue looking. This was, after all, a scavenger’s wet dream. But Mica seemed to want to get as far away from this place as possible, so I made sure to keep up and not spend to long marvelling at artifacts that I could pilfer with ease.

Several hours passed. At around midnight, Mica visibly began to tire. I suggested setting up camp in the next clearing. Of course, Mica was as opposed to that idea as I had expected.

“Relic, no! We can’t just SLEEP in here! This is probably the most dangerous part of the Boneyard!” Mica protested, slouching and struggling to keep her eyes open. Her mane was a little less puffy than usual, something I found odd.

“When you pass out, I will have to carry you, and I don’t think that I could outrun any monsters while carrying you, your possessions, and my own. Element of Harmony or not. You can pitch a tent and I can keep watch.”

“But what if something happens?!”

I flicked out my crossbow, checking to make sure it was loaded. I looked to Mica and nodded; “I think I could handle a few broken down robots.”

I helped her set up a tent. Basically a blanket draped over two twigs, but it was the only one that Granite had provided for us and it would at least shelter her from the winds and cold. The simple tent might even hide her from any creatures looking for a snack. Considering how the blanket still reeked of rotten apples and vegetables.

The moon rose, an ivory beam shifting its way through the dense cloud cover. But that too was quickly snuffed out. The darkness fell like a blanket, and the many shadows of towering walls didn't help our situation any more. I had the foresight to not use my ocular flashlights. I had no idea what else lived here besides these ‘Patchworks’. And I did not necessarily want to find out. I had my radar out, and every so often it would let out a plaintive blip, one that came from all directions; almost as if the walls of the Boneyard were moving. But that was impossible, wasn't it? Giant multi-story walls of garbage didn't just get up and walk around in the night.

That sounded more like something from an old mare’s tale. A campfire story, like the ones we scavengers would have late at night in the Ruins. I figured that if I ever willingly returned home in one piece, I would have quite the story to tell my peers.

---

As Mica snored away, I couldn't help but hear tinkling sounds. Garbage shifting over some unseen creature. The distant sound of gears clicking away. Occasionally, I would hear a disembodied moan from somewhere past the thick fortifications of scrap. The sounds were just my delirium, I would argue to myself. Mica and I were alone here in the Boneyard.

I was scared.

I don't know why, but I was. I had never truly felt fear before. Just worry and angst, but never something as primal and internal as fear. Fear was something ponies had, and I was a synth. Synths were built not to have fear, they were built to be selfless and capable of doing the more terrible and horrific of duties. But I was afraid regardless. Everything leading up to this moment was suddenly a very bad idea. Why had we come trotting into this obviously forbidden land? Where the broken bodies of dead synths cry out and sing to the night? These questions swirled through my already overheating processors. I found myself suddenly cowering beside the tent, my crossbow flicked out and already loaded. I couldn't recall when exactly I had moved to such close proximity to Mica, but I decided that this was possibly the best place for me to sit in safety. And having her close to me was oddly comforting in a way.

Between the high mounds of trash, I began to see glowing dots. Several pairs of them, all glaring at our little camp. I shuddered and glanced down at the sleeping form of Mica. She was snoring softly, her breath making small clouds of vapor in the frigid air. All I could see was Garter sleeping in that tent. Then I sat up straight and decided that I would do absolutely everything in my power to keep this pony safe.

I turned on my flashlights, turning my head to focus the beams on the glimmering eyes.

I was relieved, though still partially unnerved, to see a few ancient FF models. They had obviously undergone some sort of repairs. The work on them was sloppy. I could see bubbling melted edges where somepony had shoddily torched the rear half of a FF-5 onto an FF-3. The incompatible halves made the entire synth appear disheveled. I could see why. Even though it was standing up on all four of its legs, each of its hooves were from some other model of synth. Like whoever had tossed it together could have give less of a damn about whether it worked or not.

I shook my head and scolded myself for being so easily frightened by remains. I flicked off my lights and turned down to study the map under the dimmer glow of the Element of Loyalty.

It appeared that after we made our way out of the Boneyard, there was nothing but desert between here and Fillydelphia. Although a small annotation read ‘Beware the Talon’. I didn’t quite understand that. Could it be that a few rogue griffons had taken to their primal instincts and were not attacking ponies? It was impossible to tell. I had been living secluded in the Ruins for so long…

There was a creaking sound behind me. Startled, I whirled around and flashed my slight on.

The synth was gone.

I swirled my head around, rapidly scanning with my ocular sensors and my radar. There were blips coming from all around our camp. Encircling us… trapping us…

“Mica! Get up, now.”

She snorted and murmured in her sleep. Something about parties.

“Mica!” I hissed, giving the tent a kick. “Mica! Hurry up! Something’s got us surrounded!”

The mare sat up, smacking her lips and rubbing her eyes.

“What is it, Relic?” She groaned.

“I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s caught us in its trap. I’m getting all sorts of readings and… and I saw one, Mica. A Patchwork. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but when I looked away, it just vanished. It’s been watching us this whole time. We need to get out of here. My radar says there could be dozens of them, waiting to pounce.”

Mica gazed around, all signs of sleep deprivation gone. She gulped audibly.

“Get the tent packed up.” I whispered. She nodded, and quickly began to do so. I flicked out my crossbow and notched a bolt, ready to attack. Nothing pounced on us, but I could hear the junk around us shift and stir. Mica tossed the rolled up tent over her shoulders and looked to me. Together, we slowly stepped back into the maze, this time very much alert to every small sound.

Every so often I would hear gears whirring away. I could also hear whispering.

“Relic…?” Mica murmured, right beside me. “You hear them, too. Don’t you?”

I nodded and pulled out my radar once again into my HUD. The blips weren’t surrounding us now, but they were following us. Little specks of yellow that could easily become frighteningly real if they got any closer. And it was dark. Besides the faint glow coming from my core and from the Element dangling from my neck, there was absolutely no light. It would be hard to tell what was attacking us when it actually did.

Then we both heard a loud creak coming from directly behind us.

I knew that Mica heard it as well, because she tensed up and stopped moving. I turned around and I saw a glowing pair of red dots, glaring at me through the thick, inky darkness. I did the only thing that I could think of: I turned on my flashlights.

Standing there was something skeletal and almost otherworldly. It was just a chassis of some FF model, no armor, though it was stained with blood and a hardened crust of gore. Over its face, the synth wore a pony’s skull. The skull mandible had been attached to were its own had fallen off, giving the synth an appearance of being undead. Its long legs ended in hooves fitted with toothed blades. From the synth’s body, I could see loose wires and hunks of trash jutting out at odd angles. Besides the blades, the synth had no visible weapons. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. This was a Patchwork.

“State your business.” I shouted, hoping that the loud noise would startle the creature. Mica whimpered from her hiding place behind me. Surprisingly, the creature didn’t so much as flinch at my amplified words. Instead, it spoke.

“Bizzzz-nisssss?” The Patchwork snarled, nearly animalistic. “Mmmm… Nee’ parzzzz… Prit-e synth have parzzzz…” I shuddered, and when I did the Patchwork smiled cruelly. It let out a giggle, a staticky noise like a barehoof on a chalkboard. “Bizzznisss time!”

“Mica, run!” I shouted. I didn’t have to ask twice.

As she galloped away, I took aim with my crossbow. Thwunk! A bolt was now affixed in its left eye socket. The synth grunted in mild annoyance and snarled once again. Then it took a few threatening steps forward and let out a howl.

And to my dismay, I could hear several other creatures howl in reply.

Comments

[CaiusTheShadowPony]

way through the sense cloud cover.

Did you mean dense instead of sense?

Also awesome chapter can't wait for the next one

[KDS-Writingindustries]

Patchworks.

Basically zombie robots.

Zombie f#%king robots.

I applaud whom has come up with this concept.

Keep it up by the way, I'd like to see other OCs (such as mine )

[SkeIePone]

7134474 Thanks for the catch. Made the edit.

[Time Reaper]

The horror element here wasn't so bad, I do think it needed a bit more build up, but for what we have here it isn't bad.

Good payout though. Waiting for the next chapter.

[PonyDragon]

Damn!
The notification-System of my library is broken (again). I totally missed this and the next chapter.

What is worse: Undeads, zombies or savage robots?
Answer: A undead zombie robot.
(I know, that sounds cheesy, but it's the best I came up with.)
Anyway, the horror-parts of your story are good. I couldn't made it better.
(But sadly that doesn't say anything...)

Long story short:
I really like your story and enjoyed reading it.
Let's hope these 'Patchworks' won't reduce Mia and Relic to spare-parts.

May had found an error:

Could it be that a few rogue griffons had taken to their primal instincts and were not attacking ponies?

Sure this 'not' belongs there?