The Deepest Of Darkness
Chapter Twelve: The Deepest Of Darkness
~BlackRoseRaven
Last Call grimaced as he made his way slowly down a corridor, nervously following a wall with his flashlight off. The dim lanterns cast just enough of a glow for him to see by, even if they left such thick and twisting shadows along the floor that Last Call was afraid to look down at his hooves, lest he realize he was walking through nothing but a black sea and sink into it.
He shook his head briefly, then he shifted uncomfortably as he reached a corner, leaning carefully around it. It was empty, but he thought he could hear voices and other vague sounds...
He frowned a little: was that click-clack the sound of silverware? It seemed out of place, he thought, as he slipped around the corner and then hesitated by an ajar door, before he pushed slightly on it.
Inside, he saw a dozen translucent ponies seated around a table, ghostly utensils in their hooves clicking against ghostly plates filled with rotten, maggot-covered food. Flies buzzed around the table and lanterns, but that low hum was mostly overwhelmed by the constant click-clack of silverware as Last Call shivered and stepped back, before he flinched when an angry ghost appeared in front of him, shouting silently at him before it slammed the door angrily in his face.
Dust hailed down from the ceiling as the whole hallway seemed to shake, Last Call looking fearfully back and forth before he winced and looked up as he heard hooves race across the roof. He froze, breathing hard in and out, before he closed his eyes, took a breath, and steeled his resolved.
His eyes opened, and he turned towards the end of the corridor, and he found himself face-to-face with the monster from before.
It floated silently, studying him, leaking reek and filth as its stone mask cocked curiously. Last Call staggered back a step, but the monster made no move to pursue him. It only watched him for a few moments, then suddenly turned away, floating silently to the now-open door at the end of the corridor and sailing through it to vanish into the shadows on the other side.
What did that mean? It had spent this whole time chasing him, attacking him, and now it was ignoring him? Was it because it had claimed Happenstance? Or was it perhaps because he was here, in this other-world, stuck in this mansion that was its lair...
That didn't seem right. It was more complex than that, but it did have something to do with the fact that they were here of all places, that this, one way or the other, was the end of the road. Last Call grimaced a bit as he uneasily made his way forward, biting his lip nervously as he reached the doorway, then stepped through-
Laughter, sunshine, and blue skies greeted him. Last Call stared stupidly around, the house gone, before he squawked when someone ran into him and knocked him sprawling. He hit the ground hard and she landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him, before she blurted out: “I'm sorry! I'm late, I'm sorry!”
“Hey!” Last Call snapped, and it was like he didn't have control of himself as he popped to his hooves, whirling to glare at the frightened-looking mare. He was a slave to his memories, asking grumpily: “What the hell-”
“Hey yourself!” snapped another voice, and there were instantly two more ponies at her side, glaring angrily at him as the mare shifted lamely. “You can't talk to another pony like that, much less someone noble, you peasant!”
“You can eat my entire ass.” Last Call snapped back, and the look of shock on the stallion's face had been wonderful enough to embolden him. “I'm not afraid of-”
And then the other unicorn had picked him up and stuffed him in a garbage can with his magic. The mare had whispered an apology to him before running along with her friends. Well, they weren't really her friends. She had been a bit of a doormat when they'd first met.
He guessed, as the darkness spun out around him, ponies would still say that about her relationship with him. But they didn't understand. They didn't know how strong she really was. It was easier to think of it as weakness, than try to understand how someone could be so generous, so compassionate, so kind and wonderful...
And then he was walking again, still smelling vaguely of garbage as he made his way to the charity concert. He got there a little late, but at least now he had an excuse.
What a twist of fate it was when he got on stage, and he spotted those three in the audience, nice and close to the front of the stage. He slammed a hoof against his guitar, then twanged the strings obnoxiously as he glared right at them and announced: “I got a special song for some of my favourite ponies in Canterlot coming right up.”
He eyed them, and one looked defiant and the other looked nervous and the mare, well, she just shrank down in her seat. He felt a little mercy for her, but he was still pissed as hell.
Angry songs didn't sell well, especially at concerts, though, so instead, as he played the guitar, he went with ridiculous. Ridicule was easier to make funny than scorn, anyway, and better suited off-tune singing and beating on an old acoustic:
“I know this old lunk, he's a real sloppy drunk, met him just a minute ago on the street. Felt like a year, while as he stank of beer, he lectured me on the best places to pee.”
They all looked startled at first, but Last Call knew music. He knew music damn well. He knew how comedy – even crappy jokes like his – transcended just about every barrier, as long as you sang it in the right voice, and with the right amount of seriousness and skill and style.
“This old lunking stallion, he caught me a dallyin', around with a mare who I swear came onto me. He picked me right up and said buttercup, if you want to be kissin', you best be kissin' me.”
That got a few more laughs. And he swore he saw the mare smile a little even as her friend slammed his hooves angrily against the table. The unicorn had some issues.
It was a really bad idea to show the guy on stage making fun of you that you were getting to him.
“He pulled me right in, but I leapt right out, and he immediately started to pout. His friend leapt right in, 'ain't he good enough for you?' I said 'he ain't, and you sure ain't too.'”
That got more of a chuckle. He liked how pissed off the unicorn assholes looked. He liked even more how the mare who'd started all this nonsense was smiling a little. He met her eyes, winked at her, and then he teased:
“I added: 'hey that mare, she came onto me! I was mindin' my own business, and she fell on me like a tree!' He scowled and he said, 'maybe you hit your head, I'm the one you should be-”
One of the unicorns picked up a bottle and flung it at his head, and Last Call, to his credit, did his best to duck, but it slammed into his face and knocked him sprawling. He landed on his back, and he was once more in the hallway, staring up at the peeling ceiling above with his hooves tented on his breast, looking strangely peaceful as he breathed slowly in and out.
“She came and saw me afterwards. Apologized. Said she had been in a hurry. Official business and all that. She hated her job. She hated the ponies she worked with. It didn't take me long to learn that.” He mulled things over for a moment, then sat up and climbed to his hooves, looking down the hallway and smiling briefly to himself. “Not all her friends were assholes. But there wasn't much in Canterlot for her. There was nothing that she really wanted to do. There was nothing she felt terrible about leaving behind. As long as she had me, she said...”
He quieted, then he started forward, heading down the corridor to a T-shaped intersection. He checked both ways before he grimaced a little: there was a stairway to one side, but several doors and what looked like another corridor offshoot as well.
Last Call chewed indecisively on his lip for a moment, before he rose his head slightly as he heard a muffled voice complain: “This isn't what I was promised. This isn't what any of us were promised!”
Last Call crept towards the voice, leaning against a doorway and frowning slightly as he lowered his head: he was able to just peer through the crack at a pair of ponies inside, one of whom was siting on a barrel, and another who was hunched in a corner by a lantern, nervously looking around as he fiddled with something. “The charms don't even keep us safe!”
“Okay, look. Lectern was talking out of his ass about a lot of this, yes. But of course it's not easy. We're here to find a way to seal this stuff away.” reasoned the other pony, and then he looked nervously at the door: it took all of Last Call's will not to jerk away, to remind himself he was probably safe in the shadows unless he moved too much.
Whether or not the pony saw him, the stallion nervously pulled his coat tighter around his body, fearfully shifting closer to his comrade as he added in a mutter: “Still, if you want to try and make a break for it...”
“No way. Have you seen how many ghosts are out there? And apparently there's even worse things, too. Maybe if we offer up another sacrifice...”
“They're not really sacrifices. They're already dead. You don't sacrifice dead bodies... I think.” mumbled the other stallion, and Last Call grimaced, feeling a burst of anger, wanting to suddenly rush in and attack these two ponies: maybe if he had the element of surprise, he could- “You want to go up to the second floor and talk to Lectern or find the bodies, be my guest. I'm not leaving this room. It's safer than the halls. Things wander the halls.”
Last Call slipped back from the door, and then he quickly made his way down the corridor, moving as quietly as possible to the staircase. He climbed up it, grimacing at how it squeaked and groaned with every step he took before he rounded the stairs to head quickly down another hallway, and then he swore under his breath as he reached a junction.
Ahead, he saw a dead end, and to his left, he saw a long – too long, impossibly long – corridor, doors shivering along its length. Last Call frowned uneasily, then looked to the right, and he saw a strange, writhing mass blocking the hallway.
Last Call frowned at this: the more he stared at it, the more the slime and ichor seemed to shiver, to twist on itself, to take more of a form and shape. He tilted his head slightly, before his eyes widened as a limb twisted up out of the dark mass, and Last Call flinched and hurriedly turned away, but he knew it was too late.
The slime twisted upwards, becoming a pony-like mass covered in thorns and divots, its chest ripping open to reveal a gaping, hideous maw full of eyes as it screamed in fury at him. Last Call made the mistake of looking back at the thing, and he staggered before he screamed himself and broke into a gallop down the too-long hallway, doors slamming violently shut down the entire length as translucent ghosts fled in all directions from the oncoming terror.
The monster oozed more than ran behind Last Call, jerking itself violently back and forth as it rasped and gurgled, hooves shuddering against the earth as it propelled itself on a serpent of slime. It screamed and squealed, leaving a viscous trail of sludge behind it as the malformed jaw stretching down through its chest gnashed wildly, the countless eyes staring eagerly at the back of the stallion as its jerky, sludgy movements rapidly closed the space between itself and the earth pony.
Last Call gasped as he sprinted down the hall, staggering and stumbling a little as he shook his head vehemently, mouthing fearfully before he looked back and screamed in terror when the thing lunged at him. He leapt forward on instinct more than anything else, and the sludgy maw-beast crashed to the ground behind him, splattering apart into a mess of dark goo that shivered eagerly across the earth before it rapidly began to piece itself back together over the floorboards, large teeth already snapping and crashing eagerly together as its jaws grew larger and wider, tearing the monstrosity further into two lethal halves.
Last Call looked ahead, before his eyes widened as he saw a ghost gesture violently at him, pointing him towards an open doorway. There was no time to think, only to react, as he swerved and skidded painfully sideways before lunging through the open door and crashing down on his chest with a gasp in another short hallway.
He breathed hard for a moment, before wincing and staggering up to his hooves as something slammed itself ferociously against the door. He stepped slowly backwards as the immense force crashed against it again, before he swore and spun around when it smashed yet again into the door and splintered it,teeth and greedy tendrils of slime forcing themselves through cracks in the wood.
He ran to the end of the hall and plowed through the door, then he slammed it shut behind him. He winced in surprise and staggered away as a steel shutter fell down over this, trapping him inside the room, but he didn't even bother to look back, pacing nervously away from the door as a tremendous force crashed against the other side of it, a furious voice roaring in rage before Last Call gasped as something grabbed his shoulder.
He whirled around, swinging a hoof out, and Happenstance squealed as he was knocked sprawling, blinking stupidly and mouthing wordlessly as he stared dumbly up at Last Call. Last Call stared back at Happenstance, before he reached down and half-jerked the stallion up to his hooves, asking disbelievingly: “What are you doing here?”
“Those... monsters grabbed me! What are you doing here?” Happenstance blurted out, staring with disbelief at Last Call as he awkwardly rubbed at his bruised face, before he added with weak vehemence: “You hit me!”
“Sorry?” It wasn't much of an apology, but all the same, Happenstance's face cleared with a relieved smile before Last Call shook his head and asked: “What happened? I came looking for you, but all I found was that... monster.”
“That Residue grabbed me! Awful thing, nasty, awful thing! I tried to get away but it swallowed me whole, then spat me out somewhere else!” Happenstance exclaimed, shivering violently before he shook his head and covered his face, trembling violently. “I... I wanted to run, I tried my very best, Last Call, but it found me and grabbed me and dragged me here anyway! I was helpless! Utterly... utterly useless and helpless...”
Happenstance looked like he was going to break down into tears, but Last Call reached up and grasped his shoulders gently, saying quietly: “Hey. This is... the answers are here, Happenstance. We just have to figure out what's happening. I heard Lectern-”
“Dratted Lectern! I bet he's behind this!” Happenstance blurted out, slamming a hoof angrily against his other, and then he winced a bit before he suckled on his front hoof, even as he mumbled: “I know, I know. He was all... going on about Kiz this and Kzkttrrrkt that-”
“Lectern is here, but I don't know what he and these ponies are doing. They think they're trying to seal the Kiz, but I think they're just making these things... this twisting of reality, even stronger. I don't know if the Kiz can be stopped. But I know my wife is here and I just... I want to get her, save her, bring her out of here.” Last Call said quietly, and Happenstance chewed fearfully on his lip as he looked anxiously at Last Call. “I want to get everyone out that I can. I have no idea how I'm going to do that yet, but I think it can still be done.”
Happenstance lowered his head a bit, and then he gestured helplessly around at the room they were in: octagonal, made of water-stained stone, with an ugly altar in the centre. The dented, damaged shutter was on one side of the room, and a set of double doors stood opposite, Happenstance saying urgently: “But there's no way out! They locked the doors and it sounds like there's... there's something nasty behind that other door! You certainly didn't seem to be running from shadows, after all!”
Last Call grimaced a bit, then he shook his head before he turned his eyes towards the double doors, chewing on his lip before he said finally: “There has to be something. I'll check the doors. Maybe you could tell me how you ended up here, specifically. Did the monster bring you here?”
“Yes. Awful thing.” Happenstance shuddered and hugged himself as he looked fearfully around. “I don't know what it wants with me. Maybe it's going to eat us! I don't want to be eaten, Last Call!”
Last Call ignored Happenstance as he approached the doors and grasped one of the handles, and then he frowned as he easily pulled it open. He looked out into the empty hallway beyond, then looked back at Happenstance, pointedly cocking an eyebrow, but Happenstance only gave an awkward little laugh before he lowered his head and said meekly: “They were locked before. I swear it. You... you believe me, don't you? Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm so useless-”
“I believe you, it's okay.” Last Call said quickly, not giving Happenstance the chance to start another session of self-loathing and bawling. “Let's just get moving while we have the opportunity. It looks pretty deserted for the moment, at least. I want to try and find Lectern. I feel like he has a lot of the answers to this.”
“Y-Yes, let's find him! We can... we'll get him to give us the answers whether he likes it or not... right?” Happenstance went from ridiculously puffing out his chubby little cheeks and body to whimpering and cowering in a moment, and Last Call sighed a little before he simply nodded, which made Happenstance nod enthusiastically. “E-Excellent, then! Let's go!”
“Let's.” Last Call said after a moment, and then he shook his head briefly before he pushed his way out of the doors, then grimaced when Happenstance barrelled into him, stumbling a little before he scowled at the stallion, who gave a meek smile and dropped his head with an awkward little laugh.
Last Call shook his head a bit, then he looked back and forth down the corridor: they were standing in the middle of another T-shaped junction, but while two corridors stretched off into abysmal darkness, one was faintly lit by oil lamps. Last Call gestured at this one, and Happenstance frowned before he whispered urgently: “But that one looks like there might be those... scary people down there!”
“Yes, Happenstance. We're trying to find Lectern. The sooner, the better.” Last Call said patiently, before he frowned a little as he asked: “I thought that monster brought you here.”
“It did! But I told you, I escaped for a little while, I saw those... those nasty ponies who tried to drag me off again. They're all over here! And you... you think they work for Lectern?” asked Happenstance worriedly, and Last Call sighed a little, deciding it was better to just hope that Happenstance figured things out as they moved.
“Let's just find him for now. One way or another, this is all connected.” Last Call answered as they made their way down the dimly-lit hall. He frowned a bit as he stopped beside a door, looking into the distance: the lanterns beyond were unlit, and the hall seemed to just fade into dark shadows. Maybe that meant...
He looked at the door beside him, then he shouldered into it, pushing it open to step into a secluded study. Last Call looked curiously around for a moment, and then his eyes widened as he saw a pony on the other side of the dusty, book-strewn shelves that caged in the centre of the room, the stallion quickly striding to a gap in the shelves and leaning through to find an empty desk lit by a single lamp, and nothing more.
The pony-shape was gone. Had it been a ghost? No, it had felt more real than that, and yet less distinct. An echo, a stain, something else, Last Call thought, as he wiggled between the shelves, Happenstance coughing and sneezing in the dust as he asked worriedly: “L-Last Call? Are things okay? Did you see something?”
“Maybe.” Last Call muttered as he looked down at the desk, frowning as he noticed something traced in the dust. Some kind of symbol, he thought, but then he cursed when Happenstance stumbled through the shelves and bumped into him, catching himself against the desk and grimacing as he blotted the symbol out when his hooves wiped through the dust. “Dammit, watch where you're going, Happenstance!”
“S-Sorry!” Happenstance whimpered, sounding like he was about to cry, and Last Call sighed a little before the chubby stallion added hurriedly: “Look! Another door!”
Last Call looked up: yes, through the rotting shelves, he could see another doorway, lit by a faintly-glowing lantern. But something told Last Call he wasn't done here yet, as he straightened a bit and looked at the wall beside the desk, his eyes trailing across dusty, black and white pictures.
They were so old they had been distorted by the passage of time more than the twisting of reality. The frames were rotten and the glass had broken or fallen out in places, and Last Call frowned before he reached up to pluck a loose picture out of one of the frames, looking at it curiously.
It showed a group of noble ponies in rich clothing, including a judge in black robes. The judge was a chubby earth pony, with a benevolent smile, his mane not properly tucked under his wig. Even in the judge's robe, he looked silly, harmless; he looked exactly like Happenstance.
Last Call slowly looked over his shoulder at Happenstance, who frowned worriedly at him before he leaned forwards. He saw the picture, and he did a double take before he asked incredulously: “Is that me?”
Last Call turned to face Happenstance as he put the picture aside on the desk, and Happenstance frowned, before he suddenly smiled. And when he smiled, he was no longer some silly, harmless idiot. His eyes became malicious, and his face tightened, like all that fat was just a mask... and it was, wasn't it, Last Call thought, as he asked quietly: “Who are you?”
“I'm Happenstance! Dear old quirky Happenstance! The helpless fat-ass doormat who other ponies walk all over because he's just so gosh-darn nice and too much of a wimp to ever speak up for himself!” Happenstance slapped his front hooves on either side of his face, laughing loudly as his eyes glittered with cruelty. “Happenstance, gee whiz, he can't do a thing on his own! Happenstance, gosh, he's so silly, so useless, so stupid! Happenstance...”
Happenstance grinned, licking his lips slowly before he bared his teeth at Last Call, mocking: “Always in the right place at the right time.”
“You. You organized the walk. You wanted this to happen. But I thought it was tomorrow, not tonight! Why tonight?” Last Call shouted, stepping forward, and then in a flash he was pinned by his head back against the wall, picture frames knocked loose and falling to the floor below to shatter as he gasped in pain from the force of impact and the hoof crushing painfully forward into his skull.
“Please, festivals never take place on the day the events actually happened. That's just not possible. And the stars move at their own pace... do you think they really care what you or I or anyone else has to say? Do you think your little planet matters?” asked Happenstance derisively, and then he flung Last Call down to the ground before he leaned over him with a contemptible smile as Last Call uselessly clutched at his throbbing head, wheezing for breath, vision swimming.
“Yes. It's all because of me. Lectern, you know, he survived me once. He didn't know it was me, of course: the only time I ever get my own hooves dirty is when I decide to ensure that work has to be cleaned up personally, or other Ng'th'gtha... oh, excuse me, other Vorpals, as you call them, interfere. Because of the Alignment, several other Vorpals have awakened, and one in particular has been playing with my toys.”
“Your... your toys?” wheezed Last Call, before he gasped when Happenstance stomped on his chest, feeling the floorboards crack beneath him.
“Yes, my toys!” Happenstance said cheerfully, before he grinned down at Last Call. “You should be honoured. I mean, not only by me, spending all this personal time with you, with explaining my great and majestic plan to your tedious little mind, but the fact that I deigned to play with you fleshsacks at all. You're all very boring, you know. You cling to life so miserably. You could all be so strong! But you're just all so very... weak.”
Happenstance flicked a bit of dust off his shoulder, and then he continued: “Anyhow. Lectern bested my maze and escaped. That was ten years ago. Every year since, he's been preparing for a major Alignment... for the Alignment we are in right now. Of course, it was I, through other sources, who informed him that it would come... and how to fight it. Oh, don't worry, Last Call. There's truth mixed in with my lies. If he was smart enough to figure it out, he could very well harm another Vorpal.”
“W-Why... why do that?” Last Call asked incredulously, but Happenstance only laughed.
“Why do I need a reason? Reasons are what constrain you mortals. Me? I'm merely bored. Why do you think I created this body for myself? It amused me. It's amused me for several centuries now. I try a new persona every few decades, you see: I move to a different part of the world, and try something different for a while.” Happenstance smiled, dark eyes glittering. “When I first arrived? I decided I'd be rich, and powerful. I advised a warlord. I was respected, even feared.
“It got boring, quickly. I could do, or have, whatever I wanted, any time I wanted. It left me wanting thrills and excitement. So after the warlord died – excuse me, after he passed on from one too many arrows to the face – I allowed myself to be driven into exile. I became a vagrant, wandering, homeless... it was more exciting, but... not quite right.
“But ah, then I tried to be a merchant! I murdered a family and took their caravan of goods, and this was much more my style. I like...” Happenstance fumbled for a word, and then he clucked his tongue, looking down at Last Call meditatively. “You're a creative type. What's the word I'm looking for? A word for entertaining, interacting...”
“Performance art?” Last Call asked sourly, still trying to wrap his head around what the hell was going on, and then he flinched and gasped when Happenstance stomped on him.
“No, that's two words, you dolt. But you understand I see, all the same. Yes, I loved enchanting ponies... of course, it took me quite a long time to properly develop this silver tongue. Still, merchant, marketeer, salespony, this has always been my favourite. Ponies are so easy to manipulate if you know what to say! And once you get better with your words, it becomes such a fun game to turn friend against friend, to convince ponies to give their worst enemies a second chance, while counselling those foes to wait for the right moment to stab them in the back...”
Happenstance smiled almost dreamily, before he frowned as Last Call blurted out: “But why? Why play with ponies like that? Why are you-”
“Why not?” Happenstance asked pettishly. “You're not on my level. You're less than an insect compared to me. Do you consider the feelings of a bug before you crush it beneath your hoof? Oh, no, some of you ponies actually do, nevermind. Fine. Do you consider the... the emotions of a blade of grass before you eat it and its entire family?”
Last Call stared at him with disbelief, before he rasped: “We're more than... than plants!”
Happenstance snorted and shrugged, then he replied almost kindly: “To each other, perhaps. But to me, no. You're roughly the same: organics responding to fluctuations in chemical changes brought on by external stimuli.”
Happenstance paused, then he stepped on Last Call's face, crushing his head slowly down against the floor as he leaned down and whispered: “Whereas I decide what I want to do, based purely upon my own will and decisions. Not merely a mockery of 'free will' brought upon by inherent chemical signalling within my grey matter. Meaning that no matter whether or not it makes 'sense,' I can do whatever I please.”
“So did Toadsfall.” rasped Last Call in defiance, even as he trembled under the hoof.
For a moment, the creature in the pony suit scowled, but then he suddenly grinned as he brought his hoof back, touching his own chest as he remarked: “Touche. Or so you think, at least. In reality, this is the part where I should throw my head back and laugh, because Toadsfall was the same as the rest of you. More than that, really: he was built and dependent completely on the external driving him. It was what made him exceptionally easy to manipulate... but those who act independent and dominant in the public eye are often the ones who most desire to be controlled. Submissives in bed. And poor little Froggy, well, he always wanted to get himself fucked.”
Happenstance grinned and licked his lips slowly, before he yawned loudly as he stretched, turning away to absently poke through the books on the shelf. Last Call struggled to get up, but he had no strength in his body: his ribs hurt, his head was throbbing, his eyes could barely see thanks to the stars and shapes dancing across them, and all he could hear was Happenstance, cheerfully rambling on: “Toadsfall was paid by two sides: Lectern's little salvation brigade, and of course, by me. We were very good friends. I acted very frightened when he told me about the mares he raped and whenever he acted like the big dog, threatening me. But I completely controlled the agenda, of course, and I think he liked that. Poor Froggy! I had so many plans for him. But they were all ruined when that Residue gave him a chance to escape, and he ran right into the arms of an old enemy. We couldn't touch him, then. He got himself infested with a different kind of darkness, then... not that the Kzkttrrrkt are really 'darkness,' of course. We're beyond that. Beyond your labels.”
He paused, then turned and added critically: “That's very racist, by the way. I've tried being racist twice. The first time I owned a bunch of zebra slaves. I've heard all sorts of nasty names for them, most don't roll off the tongue very easily. I was very popular with the town, they loved how well-behaved my servants were. That was one of my favourite lives. They called me some... zebra name, I don't care enough to remember it, but it meant 'Great Evil' or something like that, because I never bothered hiding myself around them. They thought I was some evil voodoo beast, there to punish everyone. Well, it made them feel better.
“The second time? Not nearly as successful. You ponies change so fast! One year all you want is to see a zebra beaten in the streets for looking at a unicorn, the next you just about want to shove that zebra on top of her. You would all be so much happier if you just did what comes naturally and avoided each other except for whenever you have to murder and maim one-another.”
“You're crazy.” Last Call whispered, and Happenstance smiled in amusement.
“We just discussed I am beyond your labels. Did you forget? Do you need a refresher?” Happenstance asked curiously, before he leaned over Last Call and asked softly: “Do you really think you're going to see your wife?”
Last Call trembled violently, and then he gritted his teeth before he leaned up and growled: “If you hurt her-”
“The only pony I've hurt here is you!” Happenstance snapped, sounding offended as he pointedly stomped on Last Call's chest, driving him deeper into the cracked floorboards and making the stallion scream in agony as one of his ribs broke, before Happenstance mulled over his own response, rubbing at his chin as he mumbled: “Well, in the last few minutes, the only pony I've hurt is you. I didn't kill your wife, though, Last Call. In fact, to my great disappointment, I don't think I managed to kill anyone tonight. I almost managed to shove that nasty little medium off the cliff, but then that idiot Changeling grabbed her and they both had to be knocked loose... but do you know how disappointed I was when I didn't hear them splat? All I can hope is that the Ichor has eaten him by now, even if the medium got away.”
“Silent Wish...” Last Call shook his head weakly, somehow unsurprised that Happenstance was behind that: every time Happenstance had been with him, something had happened, after all, and the stallion had promptly vanished. “The monsters... you're behind all of it.”
“Only the bending of reality. You shape all these monsters yourself. That's the one thing you ponies have that we don't, you see... fearsome emotions. Emotions that create a mould, which this reality all too eagerly fills in as it attempts to heal and explain away its wounds. Miraculous! Terrible, yes. But miraculous.”
Happenstance idly circled around Last Call, and then he added idly: “But it shouldn't surprise you. Ponies, every day, make themselves believe in things that don't exist. Heaven, Hell, God, that they matter, that their lives have meaning, that they have free will... that their loved ones aren't dead and gone.”
Last Call gritted his teeth, and then he pushed himself up as much as he could, and Happenstance cocked an eyebrow over his shoulder at him with a patronizing smile as Last Call hissed out: “Either kill me, or get out of my way. I'm... I'm going to find my wife. She is not dead.”
“Fine. We'll go together.” Happenstance remarked, and then he suddenly leapt forwards and slammed both front hooves viciously down on Last Call's chest with such force that he was slammed through the floor, crashing down into a corridor below in a hail of splinters and plaster.
Last Call moaned in pain, writhing weakly on the ground before Happenstance leapt down through the hole in the ceiling, landing over him with a wide grin. He leaned down and winked, then he seized Last Call by the neck and hauled him forcefully to his hooves, saying easily: “I'll make a deal with you, Last Call! If, somehow, you can stop yourself from giving me away, I'll play along and only kill a few ponies. Heck, maybe I'll even let some of them get out alive. I think it would be fun to watch you struggle to keep up your character. What do you say?”
Last Call hissed weakly, and then he gasped when Happenstance pressed a hoof into his ribs and whispered: “Or, you can just cry like a little baby, and I'll murder everyone we meet. What do you say?”
Last Call clenched his eyes shut, and then he nodded weakly before he whispered: “My ribs are broken.”
“My heart is broken, Last Call, by how callous you've been! You should apologize to me!” Happenstance retorted in an injured voice, and Last Call scowled for a moment before Happenstance whispered: “You wouldn't want me to get upset now, would you?”
There was silence for a few moments, and then Last Call managed to force out: “Sorry.”
“Good.” Happenstance sat back, slapped at his own face a few times, and then he gave that cheery Happenstance smile... but now that he had seen it, Last Call could sense the maliciousness there, could see the evil malice in his little beady eyes as he said cheerfully: “Onward ho! Don't you worry, I'll poke you in the right direction.”
Last Call took a slow breath, and then he rasped painfully as he began forward, staggering down the corridor as Happenstance strode beside him, feigning a twitch now and then before he firmly poked Last Call in the side when they reached an intersection. Last Call moaned, stumbling and feeling nausea roll through his body before Happenstance asked worriedly: “Last Call? Gosh, are you okay?”
Last Call bit back his retort: well, it wasn't that he could even get the words to form in his mouth, which he didn't dare open anyway for fear of vomiting. Happenstance scowled a little at him, before he growled: “You're not very in character right now, Last Call!”
“My character... has broken everything.” Last Call rasped back as he stumbled slowly down the corridor, and Happenstance snorted, eyeing him critically.
“Pain is no reason to be tart. As a matter of fact, pain is a reminder you're still alive, Last Call, even though you've done nothing to deserve it! You should be grateful for that pain.” Happenstance reprimanded, before he groaned and slapped himself, muttering: “Look at me, getting all bent out of shape, dropping my own character. Shameful!”
He shook his head with a huff as they approached a doorway, before he loudly cleared his throat and said loudly: “Last Call, are you sure about this?”
“Keep your voice down.” Last Call muttered, and Happenstance sulkily glowered at him, but didn't say anything as Last Call forced himself to add: “We don't have much of a choice. We have to... I have to find her.”
Happenstance grunted, then he whispered loudly: “C. C-minus.”
“Bite me.” Last Call mumbled as he pushed through the doorway, before he frowned uneasily as they stepped into a corridor that was filled with ghosts. But as Happenstance stepped in, the phantasms hurriedly fled, although Happenstance seemed as aware of them as...
“Why couldn't...” Last Call remembered his deal, and he rephrased the question in halfhearted hope for an answer as they made their way slowly, stumblingly, down the hall: “Why couldn't Toad see the monsters?”
“They weren't his nightmares, I suppose. The Ichor and the Residue are formed from the Malice... they are attracted and only hunt certain ponies. Ponies with particular... regrets, I suppose.” Happenstance paused, then he added with a too-big wink: “I guess I'm lucky that none of them seem interested in me, huh? Right?”
“Yeah. Real lucky.” Last Call muttered as they made their way to the end of the corridor, before he flinched in surprise as the doors down the entirety of the hallway opened, then slammed violently.
Happenstance flinched slightly too, then he scowled as he turned around, looking uneasily back and forth before he quickly shouted, his voice full of false fear: “Gosh, they're all around us! We better move fast!”
Last Call sighed as he shouldered the door open, stumbling through into a large cafeteria. And then he did a double-take as he realized there were actual ponies here, the ponies looking back at him with dumb surprise as Happenstance staggered through after him, then he stared before screaming: “Oh no, Last Call! Monsters!”
“They're not monsters.” Last Call said tiredly, not even knowing why he was responding. Habit, he guessed. “Where is Lectern?”
The two large, hulking stallions that had been approaching both hesitated in their advance, frowning uneasily before a voice snapped: “Stand down!”
The ponies stepped aside, and Lectern frowned as he strode forwards, asking coldly: “What are you doing here? I remember you both... idiot, you're the one who started all this, and you were with him, you-”
“I just want to find my wife.” Last Call almost shouted, stepping forwards with a tremble. “You... you took my wife, she was one of the ponies on the trail-”
“What? What are you talking about?” Lectern frowned in surprise, before he shook his head as he glared at Happenstance. “I did no such thing! He and his idiot friend were the ones leading that group. I've worked to try and save the other ponies brought here, but I highly doubt any of them are your wife if-”
“I want to see my wife! She's here! I know she's here!” shouted Last Call furiously, staggering forward, and even Happenstance seemed surprised by the outburst. “Where is my wife? Where is she?”
Lectern stared at him, and then he looked up in surprise as a voice cried out: “Last Call!”
Last Call's eyes filled with hope and relief as he spun towards that sound, smiling brightly, and all the pain vanished and everything he'd gone through up to this moment felt worthwhile as the mare leapt suddenly down from the stairs, running towards him. But then she skidded to a stop as Lectern stepped into her way, holding up a hoof and sounding almost desperate as he shouted: “Wait!”
“Say the word, Last Call...” whispered Happenstance, suddenly sultry, seductive, sweet. “Say the word, and they all die.”
“Wait! Just wait a moment, and listen to me.” Lectern said, quiet and firm, and Last Call gritted his teeth as his wife looked at him desperately, helplessly, from behind the scarred stallion. “This is not what you think it is.”
“Come on. I'll even make it nice, unlike I did with you. Bet you've always wanted to see someone explode.” Happenstance almost whined, as he sinuously dragged his body against Last Call's side. “What do you say, huh? I know! Yes! You say yes!”
Last Call trembled, but he didn't look at Happenstance, keeping his eyes on Lectern as the scarred stallion explained quietly: “I still do not understand what they want, what they are. Only that they bend reality, and somehow, bring nightmares to life. But... they do more than that. Their presence twists time. You've seen the ghosts, dragged here, trapped here... but unable to communicate with us. They scream and shout and react to our presence, but-”
“He's so boring! Don't you want him to die?” Happenstance murmured in his ear, before he shouted fearfully: “Last Call, we have to run away! I... I don't care, this is a bad pony, look at him! He was trying to distract us!”
Lectern scowled, but he continued, undaunted: “But the ancient texts told of speaking with the dead, as the dead could act as a medium between the Kiz and between ourselves. The dead, trapped between worlds, were closer to the Kiz, and less affected by their horrors than us. This act was called sacrifice, because the dead could still be taken, could still be harmed...”
“N-No... no... you killed-”
“We didn't kill anyone!” Lectern said desperately, and then he shook his head before he sighed and looked back at the mare, saying with such agonizing, painful honesty: “I'm sorry. You know what I have to do.”
The mare lowered her head, trembling for a moment, before she smiled. She smiled, and looked up in that way that told the stallion she was going to sacrifice for him, hurt herself for him, give him what he didn't deserve-
He stumbled towards her, shoving away from Happenstance and staggering past Lectern, who made no move to stop him as Last Call leapt at his wife-
He passed right through her, hitting the ground painfully behind her with a cry of pain and anguish, his eyes full of tears. He trembled on the ground, whimpering weakly, shaking his head in helpless denial before he choked on a sob as her hoof gently touched his shoulder... like a warm breeze. Warm, and comforting, just like it had been on that day, that day he didn't want to remember, refused to believe.
He had lied to himself for years, hadn't he? She was always out. The house was always perfect but she was never there. He was always a mess and never took care of himself. All the other ponies played along: he was insane, they thought, but more sad than dangerous, and it was a quiet sort of insanity.
Better let him sort it out. Understand on his own.
But he didn't want to. He would never want to. He couldn't live alone.
God he just wanted to touch her, one last time.
Last Call trembled, before he clenched his eyes shut, tears rolling down his cheeks as the phantasm of his wife hugged him tightly from behind: as tight as her ethereal body would allow, anyway, her touch a faint and secret thing, like a cloud that could wisp away at any time as she whispered: “I'm so sorry.”
“We brought the remains of the dead, recent and not, here. We've been gathering bodies for years: with their bodies close by, the twisting of reality-”
“Okay show's over bye now.” Happenstance said irritably, and with a wave of his hoof, one of the large stallions exploded into chunks of gore. Lectern stuttered to a halt, before Happenstance gestured irritably at the other bodyguard, who was flung off his hooves and smashed through a table before he was jerked into the air, crashing into the ceiling with enough force to crack it before he simply fell.
“You.” Lectern whispered, before his eyes widened in shock as Happenstance appeared in front of him with a cruel grin, pony body nothing but a cheap suit over something hideous and derelict and alien that writhed just beneath the surface.
“Me. Come on, Lectern. I'll give you a chance to run away again. Last Call, don't go anywhere. I'll be back for you.” Happenstance said, and before anyone could react, he seized Lectern by the shoulder before he simply vanished.
Last Call trembled on the ground, and then he lowered his head and whispered: “It was all a mistake. A cosmic joke. I... I can't... I wanted so badly to believe... is that why everypony just... why... they all knew. Didn't they? Didn't they?”
Last Call almost howled the last, clawing into the floor before he looked weakly up at the sight of his wife, the mare smiling, and that holy radiance she glowed with wasn't just in his mind anymore, he realized, as she stretched a hoof towards him and whispered: “You can't leave until you see the truth. Come on, Last Call. Let me show you the truth.”
Last Call stared at his wife, and then, with the little that remained of his strength, he forced himself up to his hooves with a weak nod, lowering his head as he said weakly: “Anything. I'm... I'm ready.”
The mare nodded, then touched his face gently before she turned around, silently towards the gaping darkness of a doorway, and Last Call followed.
Stats
Page generated in 0.052 seconds
Total duration
1,030 users online
1,973,915 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Choice A1. I don't think Last Call is the type to just abandon somebody like that.
Holy crap, I didn't see this coming. I won't say anything, though, 'cos spoilers.
That was a major bombshell. Well done. And I'd pick A1.
A1
There really was a precedent here for some of this given TSASAS
It's all coming to a head. Interesting twists and turns.
Also, Happenstance reminds me of the Merriff from Borderlands.
Not sure that t should be there.
Also, tomatoes. Tomatoes everywhere. Consider my mind thoroughly fucked. I mean, how did Call even hear the voice from behind him, if that person was already, y'know.
At this point, I just hope we'll get a name at long last.
For choice, B2.