From The Depths
Chapter Five: From The Depths
~BlackRoseRaven
It was cold, it was dark, and the only light came from the faint embers of the oval hole that had been burned through the wall next to him. Last Call could hear things, crawling and squirming eagerly through the deep darkness that blanketed the entire camp, and he barely resisted the urge to leap back through the hole into the dormitory.
Instead, he crept carefully down the alleyway to the end, breathing hard as he leaned out and worriedly looked back and forth. He tried to control his breathing and his wildly-beating heart, sure that one or the other was going to give him away... but for the moment, he saw that while the ground was covered in twinkles of broken glass and the only light apart from the stars in the sky came from the sparks that sizzled down every so often from the shattered lamps, it seemed like he was alone.
But he knew things were coming. The monster had told him as much: maybe it was calling them here, right now. Maybe they were just being naturally drawn here by the reek of malice in the air. What difference did it make, though? It came down to if he stayed here, he was dead.
He had to make a run for it. He had to get out of here...
Except Happenstance was still here, wasn't he? And he'd barely had a chance to look around, what if there was something else here? That godawful thing that had touched him, it had seemed like it was here for a reason... what if he ran away and missed out on finding what that reason was?
He could leave Happenstance behind...
Last Call shook his head vehemently at this, dismissing the thought almost as quickly as it came. No, he didn't like Happenstance all that much, but he couldn't just abandon him, either. Not when he was the one who had dragged Happenstance to the logging camp on top of everything else, when Happenstance had wanted to try and leave the forest in the first place.
Last Call bit his lip, then he swore under his breath before he made a mad dash across the dark street, hurrying back towards the foremare's office. He somehow made it to the front doors before he winced as he remembered they were chained shut-
He stumbled into them, and they swung open, making the broken chains jangle as shattered pieces of metal were kicked across the floor by the doors striking them. He stared at these, then flinched as he heard some unearthly hissing, scrambling quickly down the wall of the building and nearly falling around the side of the structure, near the gaping hole leading into the badly-remade office.
There was a hissing, a slithering, and then something awful and serpentine and disgusting lurched out of the doors, looking back and forth. Arms or wings or something stretched out of its sides, before it lowered itself to the ground as it slither-crawled out towards the centre of the road-
Last Call ripped his eyes away, his heart quaking in his chest, legs shaking, lungs aching as he forced himself to hold his breath so he wouldn't hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness or discovery. He could just make out the shape of that wretched thing in the starlight, and while it wasn't nearly as awful as the unfathomable beast he had come across earlier, it still made him panic in a primal, instinctual way.
He fought that panic as best he could as he crawled through the hole into the office, then stumbled through the ajar door into the hallway before letting it close behind him, finally letting out a weak gasp. But as the thing was out of sight and hopefully moving further away, he felt his sanity quickly returning.
He let himself slump for a moment, gasping breath in and out in the little hallway as his exhausted body gradually relaxed, and then he grimaced as he picked himself up and made his way as quickly and quietly as he could into the main lobby and behind one of the now-dark displays, nervously peering back and forth before he bolted across the room, keeping in the shadows as much as possible as he did his best not to look out the main doors in case that awful thing was still out there.
Last Call stumbled into the door leading into the employee lounge, knocking it ajar...
He skidded to a halt as the door swung open, blood going cold in his veins as he stared into the darkness beyond, not a single shred of light revealing what was inside those shadows. And yet, he already knew that Happenstance wasn't here, as he looked slowly back and forth before stepping nervously into the room and closing the door behind him, leaning back against it and flinching slightly at the faint snick of the lock automatically engaging.
He breathed for a moment, then whispered: “Happenstance?”
Nothing.
Last Call reached up and fumbled for his flashlight, turning it on with a click before he traced the dim light nervously back and forth: there were no signs of struggle, no hints as to why anyone would leave, and no trace of Happenstance. All he saw was that one of the supply closet doors was open, and a pile of stuff had been neatly arranged on the table in the middle of the room.
Last Call approached this, uneasily poking through it even as he glanced back and forth, as if Happenstance was just going to pop out at him if he looked around enough. It looked like he had been sorting the supplies he'd dug out of the closet before he'd vanished: while most of it was useless, the stallion did note that there was a pile of random batteries, a few emergency flares, and what looked like a set of keys.
These last things he scraped off the table into his satchel before he muttered: “Goddammit, Happenstance. Where the hell did you go?”
He was feeling more and more sure that Happenstance had left or been drawn out for some reason... or hell, maybe he'd panicked when the lights had gone out. But the lack of any kind of struggle was little solace for him: with the things now wandering the campsite, he knew that the likelihood Happenstance would survive... god, don't think like that.
Maybe he could find him, though. Maybe...
Last Call traced the flashlight back towards the door, then winced as it fell across Silent Wish, his breath catching in his throat before he let out a long wheeze. Before he could open his mouth, however, Silent Wish rose a claw in front of her muzzle, before whispering: “Turn it off.”
Last Call frowned, before he winced as he heard a scratching at the door, hurriedly grabbing at the light on his shoulder before clicking it off. He couldn't help but notice how Silent Wish's eyes almost glowed in the darkness, but he was too afraid to move, too afraid to speak, too afraid to even breathe as that scratching continued, growing more insistent for a few moments before it halted... and then something on the other side of the door gave an unearthly screech before all sound vanished.
“It's gone.” Silent Wish confirmed, and he heard a rustling as she approached him before her claw gently touched his hoof, making him flinch at how cold her touch was. “Don't turn on your light. Wallowers are like insects: they hide alone, but they always move in groups.”
“I don't understand.” was all Last Call could say, and Silent Wish gave him a faint smile.
“I wish you didn't have to.” she said, and then she gently grasped him and pulled him towards the back door, saying in a murmur: “It's getting easier for me to appear, and stay for longer periods of time. At this rate, I'll only have to leave you for short breaths, but that's not a good sign. Last Call, I don't know why that Vorpal spared you-”
“He said I was interesting.” Last Call said, and Silent Wish stumbled to a halt, looking up at him worriedly. “What? That... he said as long as-”
“Yes. I know. That's what they said about me.” Silent Wish whispered, before she shook her head and turned, half-yanking him onward, and the stallion winced, surprised at her strength. “We have to get you to where reality slopes upward, away from the chaos. If we can get you back to the village, it should be far enough to-”
“No, I have to at least look for Happenstance, and my wife is out there!” Last Call argued, shaking his head vehemently even as Silent Wish pushed the door open. “I can't... I won't leave either of them behind!”
“Yes, you will. You would, and we both know you would.” Silent Wish said, and the worst part of it was that her voice wasn't accusing, her tone wasn't cruel: it was almost gentle, and it hurt so much because Last Call knew from past experience that it was true. “That's not always the worst thing, Last Call. You're not the only pony who wishes he could trade his life for his friends, his family. And if death is certain for one, but not another, then the best thing-”
“Don't... you're... you don't understand.” Last Call whispered, but they both knew that this little ageless filly did.
Silent Wish only looked at him, before she sighed and said quietly: “The Wallowers are mostly blind from living underground for so long, but they're not used to the noises of this world, or the vibrations of soft earth. They've never felt ground like this before, they don't understand it. But that doesn't mean they're stupid. They'll listen for your voice and they'll follow your hooves very easily on hard surfaces, like this wood. But you should be able to feel when they're coming: don't listen for them, don't look for them. Just close your eyes and feel them.”
“I... I'll try.” Last Call said after a moment, before he blurted out: “Where do you go? Where do you keep vanishing off to?”
Silent Wish only looked at him for a moment, and then she gave another of her faint, sad smiles, as she answered: “Away.”
With that, the filly was gone again, and Last Call sighed a little as he stepped out into the pitch-blackness of the short exit corridor, nervously working his way down to the door at the end. He breathed slowly as he tested it before pushing it open, and he grimaced a bit at how the starlight almost bit at his eyes: it bathed everything in a cold, careless blue, melding the black profiles of buildings and trees and earth into an incoherent mess... and yet one that he had to step carefully down into all the same as he swore under his breath, hoping that Silent Wish was right.
But what did he do now? Where did he go?
There was nothing useful here in the office. There was nothing – probably – in the dormitories. When he closed his eyes, he could... he could feel those things Silent Wish had called Wallowers moving, squirming around, and got a sense of the direction they were in, like they were so alien to this reality that the air itself was trying to warn him where those beasts were...
He grimaced a bit as he nervously began to make his way around the back of the building: he thought for a moment about just trying to run away down the path, but he remembered that there had been that... that other, awful thing out there, and he was still afraid that if he tried to retrace his route, it would intercept him. It had been different somehow from these other beasts, more ferocious, more native to this world: that thought terrified him somehow, even more than what he had experienced in his short time here in the camp.
Last Call made his way to the edge of the building and began to turn, before he stared in blank disbelief at the sight of a translucent stallion, calmly smoking a cigarette. The stallion didn't so much as look at him as it flickered in and out of reality, before it looked up... and its head almost exploded when an axe smashed into it, sending the image crashing down in a heap that quickly fizzled out of reality.
Last Call hurked, but the only thing that stomped him from vomiting was the way his whole body froze up when the ghost reappeared, once more smoking a cigarette, once more calm, cool, collected, until those same events repeated only seconds later. This time, Last Call winced away in time, covering his face as he shuddered violently, and he was only glad that this stain in reality was silent.
Moving carefully, Last Call kept his head down and eyes on the ground as he strode past the ghost, doing everything he could to get by: he shifted just a little too close, however, as it once more was struck by the axe, and Last Call jumped forward with a gasp as this time, he clearly heard the scream of the stallion, the sound of flesh striking earth, and a rasping, panting, excited breathing that told him oh god it was right behind him it was-
Last Call flung himself forward as he looked back over his shoulder in terror, and there was nothing there. Nothing behind him, even though his heart was pounding in his chest and he felt horrible agony in his skull and everything was confusion and fuzz...
He moaned as he staggered against the wall, trembling and reaching up to grasp his head, before he shivered a bit as he brushed past one ear and felt wetness. He looked down at his hoof, and the faint blue starlight that slipped into this alleyway revealed a glint of blood: he was bleeding. He had felt that stallion's death. He had experienced the memories in that echo.
He was losing his fucking mind.
Last Call shivered, then he forced himself to stagger upright against the pounding of his head and the pain pulsating through his body. He gritted his teeth, fighting exhaustion and agony, but he knew that if he didn't manage to force himself to go on, he was going to die.
The thought of how much that stallion's death had hurt, and how quick it had been, compared to what those Wallowers would likely do to him if they were anything like the images he'd seen in his mind from that Vorpal creature, was just enough to give him the incentive to take a step forward. One step became two, two became three, became a stumble, a stagger, a broken, limping gait that took him to the end of the alleyway.
He leaned against the wall, breathing hard, but he noted that to his immediate left was an open gate leading into what he thought was the barn. He grimaced a bit as he stumbled inside, before his eyes widened as he immediately caught sight of a twisting, curling shape in the darkness at the other end of the long, open aisle.
Last Call tried to press himself against the wall, and winced as he instead fell through an open door into a stall. He thumped to the ground, and immediately heard a rasping hiss that told him that the thing had heard him, as the air seemed almost to thicken with its malice.
The stallion looked wildly back and forth in the darkness, barely able to make out where he was. He shifted backwards, and his hoof hit something hard and metallic: out of shock more than anything else, he flung it out the open doorway, and it clanged loudly into another stall opposite, followed an instant later by some horrific, shrieking shape.
Last Call ducked quickly out of the stall, stumbling along the dirt path as a tremendous banging and clanging reached his ears as the monster went berserk in the stall. He knew all that noise was only going to attract more of them, so he dashed deeper into the dark barn until he caught sight of a ladder, scurrying up to the top of it before flopping into the hayloft above, gasping as he wiggled himself forward on his stomach, not daring to leap to his hooves for fear that his steps against the wood would attract the creatures' attention.
He heard other wretched things squalling, rasping, screaming as they flooded into the barn, drawn by all the commotion: for a few moments, what Last Call heard was indescribable, like a pack of shrieking, squealing insects with a thousand jaws all biting and clawing at each other, rioting mixed with the sound of wood splintering and metal breaking. But after a painfully long few minutes, it quickly faded into rasping and rumbling, and soon after that, he heard and felt as the creatures shifted and twisted away.
Last Call moved carefully, crawling more than walking to the open door at the front of the hayloft. He eyed the simple pulley system that was used to move the haybales for a moment, then decided that would be idiotic to try: he also noted, however, that there were several buckets and rusty cans full of loose metal parts nearby, likely forgotten about up here since the last time they had done repairs on the old, mouldering barn.
Across from the barn was a fenced-in area where archaic piles of fossilized lumber were stored: he bet he could lob a bucket that far. The Wallowers had all converged at once, once they had been alerted: maybe he could use that to his advantage.
He couldn't just start throwing stuff and hope it would work, though: he needed a plan. He needed to remember the layout of the logging camp as clearly as he could and... where the hell he could even go from here.
The only thing that stood out in his mind was the cliffs: there was an old camp at the base, and of course all the caverns and paths that wormed their way through the mountains. But while he knew the layout of the logging camp here vaguely from his visits she had rarely been able to get him to walk all the way out to the mountains: that would have required more than minimal effort on his part, with little reward but maybe a smile, a kiss...
He'd kill for those things from her now, though.
Last Call shook his head, bringing himself back to the matter at hoof as he looked back and forth, before his eyes locked on a small building that sat on the outskirts of the cleared area. That wasn't any part of the original logging camp, but a tour centre, where the guides gave presentations and handed out pamphlets and maps...
If he could distract the monsters long enough to get across the street, then he could get into that little building and find not just the tourist maps, but the more detailed ones used by the guides and the occasional rescue crews that had to go and save some idiot who'd decided to run off the marked trails. There were dozens, if not hundreds of little offshoots and paths out here, and while only the easiest and the largest ones were marked, almost every inch of land all the way to and around the mountains had been clearly mapped out at some point or another.
Last Call bit his lip: he knew there were a few possible problems with his plan, such as the fact that he might not even be able to get into the tour centre if it was locked. But then he remembered the keys in his satchel, the stallion shifting so he could reach back into this and dig them out, tossing them lightly on one hoof before he grimaced a bit as he realized... even if I have the right key, I don't know which one it is.
He swore under his breath, then shook his head before he closed his eyes and lowered his head forward slightly, thinking quickly. He could figure this out. He had time still, because all those monsters were downstairs, and he was alone...
He bit his lip, wishing impulsively that he had help, even in the form of-
“You should be more careful.”
Last Call winced in surprise, then stared at Silent Wish, who frowned up at him disapprovingly... although she seemed almost as surprised as he was, he thought, she was just doing a better job of hiding it.
They looked at each other for a few moments, and then Last Call asked: “Can you help me? Did... I mean, did you hear-”
“Yes, but that's not a good sign, Last Call, and I was... there are other things I need to try and make sure happen, too. You're not my ward and I'm not your foalsitter.” Silent Wish sounded almost angry, and Last Call shifted uncertainly, but after a moment the filly sighed and lowered her head, adding quietly: “But maybe I'm just... frustrated. I'm sorry, Last Call. I shouldn't let this world turn us against each other, I should know better. But... next time, don't call for me unless you really need my help.”
“I really do, though.” Last Call said quickly, and Silent Wish frowned at him. “I need to get down to that tourist centre, but I don't know if I have the right keys. I was hoping that if I make some noise and distract those monsters-”
“Don't underestimate them. They're learning. They're going to figure out soon that someone's there, if they haven't already from your little stunt earlier.” Silent Wish warned, but she sounded less scolding and more worried this time before she bit her lip, then sighed as she said quietly: “Give me the keys.”
“What are you going to do?” Last Call asked uneasily, before he frowned as the filly half-turned away, opening her raincoat as she let her mane fall over her face.
The stallion opened his mouth again, before it went dry as she shrugged the heavy coat off and stretched out her wings. But they weren't normal wings, oh no: they were enormous, bat-like wings, and they didn't come from her back, but rather they were part of her... her arms, he thought stupidly. With her raincoat off and those wings bare, she looked like some kind of monstrous bat-chimera that turned its glowing eyes on him-
Last Call flinched before he could stop himself, and Silent Wish's eyes flicked away before she said quietly: “Just give me the keys.”
“Sorry, I... I'm sorry.” Last Call murmured, even though he shivered all the same as he stretched the keys out, hating how he couldn't hide the trembling in his foreleg, or the way he leaned away from her. It clearly hurt the filly, but she snatched the keys quickly away from him and didn't look back when he stepped after her, the bat-mare leaping out of the hayloft and soundlessly gliding to the roof of the tour centre.
Last Call dropped his head for a moment, then he shook it quickly and looked up: he could just make out the shape of Silent Wish as she landed silently on the roof and skittered quickly over it before easily making her way down the front wall to the doors, hanging off the wooden wall as naturally as... well... a bat. He could almost hear the faint tink of the keys in the silent air as she tested each one in the lock, before Last Call grimaced as he heard a low hissing, saw a shape twist through the darkness-
The stallion grabbed a bucket of bolts and flung it across the street, and it smashed against the chainlink fence. Silent Wish flinched, but thankfully didn't lose her footing on the wall even as the Wallowers screamed and converged immediately on the bucket, then wildly grabbed at the fence when they crashed against it and it rattled loudly.
Knowing he likely wouldn't have another chance, Last Call made one of the stupidest, most impulsive decisions of his life and he leapt out of the hayloft, crashing down to the dirt road below with a loud thump. He stumbled and fell on his face with a wince, before his eyes widened in horror as one of the snake-creatures whirled away from the fence, rapidly scanning the road, and the stallion immediately huddled as low as he could to the ground.
Thankfully, its attention was drawn back to its fellows as one of them managed to knock the bucket of bolts and screws rolling, the creatures chasing the sound. Last Call didn't waste any time in spite of the agony searing his body in climbing to his hooves and staggering quickly towards the centre, and he sighed in relief as Silent Wish yanked the door open, even as she hissed: “Are you crazy?”
“I think so.” Last Call said honestly: flinging himself off the hayloft had seemed like a good idea at the time, and he didn't know if he'd done it in a burst of panic or pure stupidity. The moment he stumbled inside, Silent Wish closed the door behind him and locked it again, and he shivered a bit as he simply rested on the floor of the centre, whispering: “I don't know what came over me. I just felt... an urge. A wild need to do... something, like I had to do it or I was going to be trapped up there forever.”
“Last Call, that's not good. You're letting them dig inside; and if they dig too deeply into your mind, you'll never get them out.” Silent Wish said worriedly, striding up beside him, and Last Call shivered a bit as he looked at her.
“Is that what happened to you?” he asked impulsively, and the filly looked away.
There was silence for a few moments, and then Last Call lowered his head as he whispered: “Sorry. My wife always said I was an idiot. And she was right, you know. She was right about a lot of things... about everything. I hated that, but now, more than ever...”
He shivered a little, then looked up at the empty space where Silent Wish had stood, unsurprised to see that she was gone. But why would she stick around with a wreck like him? She was only half-bat. Him? He was all vermin.
Last Call laughed dryly at this, then he slowly clambered to his hooves before striding across the room. He grimaced a bit and looked uneasily up as he heard a slithering, a tapping against the walls, and decided against turning on his flashlight for the moment: there was still enough starlight filtering in through the windows and the skylight in the ceiling that he was able to see by, letting him find his way to the back of the room and past the counters.
He found a door back here that let him slip back into a storeroom full of shelves of maps and guides and notebooks: here, he finally turned on the flashlight so he could look around the barren concrete room, searching carefully through the rows of shelving until he finally found what he was looking for: one of the park ranger's guides, full of not just local maps, but with all the emergency protocols, including common radio frequencies and the locations of watchtowers and emergency supplies.
He nodded to himself, tucking this away in his satchel before he turned around and found himself face-to-face with a massive, black shape in a hideous, dead-eyed stone mask, reeking so foully of rot and mud that Last Call had no idea how he hadn't noticed it before. He gagged violently as he staggered backwards, flinching away from the awful, putrid thing before he looked up in terror-
It was gone.
Last Call trembled, then swallowed thickly as he realized he could still smell it, as his body shook with fear and a chill ran down his spine, and he heard an awful, wet squelching behind him, that was joined a moment later by a raspy, chuckling breath.
Last Call bolted out of the room and slammed the door behind him, before he screamed and flinched fearfully when the lights flashed on. He slid backwards down the door, gasping and clutching his chest as he heard a disappointed sigh, and that putrid reek faded, leaving him alone, in silence, beneath the warmth of the simple lights of the little tourist building.
The stallion vomited the little that was left in his stomach into his lap, then simply sat miserably for a few moments, breathing shakily until he finally caught his breath. He rubbed a little at his parched throat, then shook his head before he slowly, painfully toddled to his hooves, stumbling a bit as he made his way over to a water cooler that sat against the wall.
He shoved his head under one of the nozzles and jerked on the spigot: what water didn't spill into his jaws poured across his face, washing away sweat and tears of fear, making him shiver a little from how cold it was, but restoring his mind, little-by-little. He felt terrified and confused still, but when he finally pulled his head back, he at least felt... well, not refreshed, no. That was going too far. But his throat didn't hurt, his thoughts felt a little steadier, and somehow, he was still alive.
But what the hell was it with things popping up behind him all the time now? And why had the power come back on? Did that mean the monsters were gone?
Last Call hesitated for a moment, and then he made his way to the doors of the centre, leaning his ear against one. But he couldn't hear anything outside anymore. Maybe the creatures really had moved on. Maybe he was okay.
Last Call straightened, then looked back over his shoulder, and his eyes widened as he saw that the storage room door had been knocked open, and the hideous, putrid thing was standing there, staring into the room with its dead, empty eyes, its trash-bag body shuddering eagerly as rotten liquid and filth dripped off a carcass that Last Call realized with horror wasn't slithering across the ground, but floating in the air.
The stallion stared for a moment, and then he spun around and slammed himself against the door before he screamed as it refused to budge, grabbing wildly at the handle, then at the lock as that awful thing came floating towards him, chuckling mirthlessly as tentacles of slime and malice stretched almost invisibly out from its body-
The lock popped open, and Last Call burst out of the tour centre and bolted back into the darkness, turning away from the logging camp and fleeing towards the mountains faintly illuminated beneath the stars in the distance. And not even the Wallowers followed, the snake-creatures fleeing and hiding from the masked, hideous thing as it floated ominously and unhurriedly down the path in silent pursuit of its chosen quarry, the lopsided mask on its faceless carcass glimmering with joyless malice beneath the cruel starlight.
She wasn't sure where she was. It was cold and it was dark and it was wet; oh, it stank, too. It was fetid, and awful, like rotting wood and... and oh god, she could feel something crawling on her. Her skin prickled beneath the whatever-it-was as she felt herself being moved, and shifted around...
No, wait. She wasn't the one moving. It was everything else that was moving around her.
She whimpered again, eyes opening, then clenching shut: all she could see was darkness, but it was a darkness that stung at her eyes like acid, a darkness she couldn't see, a darkness she couldn't fathom. She moaned weakly, not wanting to imagine what was happening as those putrid walls shifted around her again, like great, awful worms twisting past as she floated miserably in a hellvoid.
She clung to herself, the only thing she could dare trust in this vile blackness, as things rippled back and forth, before she whimpered and rose her head as she heard something in the distance: something above, maybe, calling to her? Calling out, crying out...
How could she possibly get there, though? She tried to move, and she felt those great unknown beasts squirm against her, making her flinch. And in this unknown, physic-less void, it was difficult for her to even stay focused, let alone move by herself.
But maybe she didn't have to.
She swallowed, then gritted her teeth before grabbing into one of the things moving past her, and she moaned as her hooves sank into its reeking flesh with ease. But the thing didn't so much as twitch, and as she felt herself being yanked upwards, she clung to it with all her might even though contact alone with this hideous thing made bile rise in her throat and her whole body shake with fear and pain-
A voice called to her, and she couldn't stop herself from looking up and opening her eyes-
She was bathed in light, and suddenly, she was out of the nowhere and sitting on the floor of an empty room. Shadows crawled across the walls around her, and strange bugs chittered and scurried and twisted across the ground, making her flinch away out of a primal fear: they didn't look like any kind of insect she had ever seen before, almost every one of them with an odd number of legs, with too-intelligent, glaring, hateful eyes, with pincers and claws and stingers and-
She looked up, and saw the unfathomable and endless and infinite. She trembled violently, going dead pale, reaching up to cover her muzzle as she stared into it, and it stared back at her, alive and yet dead, here and there and everywhere, a thing of places that never existed that it longed to escape from, but never could.
And yet even if it was not kind, nor was it unkind, either, as it asked her a question in images and shapes, and the mare trembled before tears spilled from her eyes as she nodded vehemently.
“Please don't hurt him. I'd do anything for him.”
It asked her a question, and she couldn't help but give a weak laugh.
“Love is something... is something more complicated than even you are.”
It was intrigued. It was not bored. And it was surprised, when the mare blurted out:
“Please don't let him die! P-Please...”
The thing from beyond the stars looked at her, and then it was gone, and the mare gasped as she collapsed to the ground, shaking violently, only able to hope that her message had gotten through, or that it had at least kept the thing curious enough about Last Call.
Then she winced as something smashed into the doors of the room, and something she knew, something she had heard before, something scheming and wretched and vile growled at her, and she looked over her shoulder with a shudder as one, two, three bangs tore through the room.
Something she knew was coming for her. Something she understood. Something made of earthly cruelty.
And perhaps, in the end, they had more to fear from their own monsters than they ever would from these entities of the endless beyond.
Stats
Page generated in 0.018 seconds
Total duration
673 users online
854,144 hits today, 1,822,946 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.®
I'll go for B1.
I wanna see where B1 leads.
B1
Also a stone mask but no vampires? Boy I am ashamed
Huh, reality is wearing thin.
For choice, I'll go B2, although I wouldn't be suprised if Happenstance is already dead.