Shadows Swarmed Below

by Jay Bear v2

Why Can't I Breathe?

4.

Journaling has never been my thing, but I did keep track of what I learned being with Sandbar. Here’s a short list from the first month:

• Sandbar had a sixth sense about my mood. Sometimes memories about Griffonstone would bubble up and put me in a funk, but he seemed to know it even before me. Then he’d ask if I was okay until I admitted I wasn’t.
• Talking to Sandbar made my rough days pass a little faster. I still had them, but they weren’t as bad when I could share them with someone.
• How to kiss a pony. Getting a beak and muzzle to meet up took some trial and error, but Sandbar said he didn’t mind. I definitely didn’t either.
• Never, ever, ever go in an amusement park ride built my foals.

We had signed up for that Hearts and Hooves Day seminar. The seminar would be “in the field,” which meant our first class met up at a bridge over the Ponyville River. Pink paper cutouts of hearts and horseshoes had been taped across its arch while red streamers wrapped its railings. Ice floated at the edge of the riverbanks. Crisp breezes got me all but hanging off Sandbar for warmth as we walked over.

Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo were whispering between themselves when we arrived. Other students, all ponies, stood in small herds chatting and stamping their hooves for warmth. It seemed we were waiting for the rest of the class to show up.

Sandbar leaned to my ear. “Do you think they changed the class?”

I shrugged. We’d told the fillies we were a couple during registration. They’d cooed and begged for all the cutesy details…and then confessed that they had no idea what to teach a couple. The first day was supposed to be about finding a special somepony and asking them out on a date. They said they’d figure it out for us, but from the way they were frantically whispering while the last of our classmates straggled over, I had my doubts.

The fillies’ whispering ended. Apple Bloom galloped upriver, leaving Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo with us. Sweetie Belle started.

“Welcome to Hearts and Hooves Day 101 everypony...and griffon! Today we will watch two young lovebirds on a romantic date.”

I knew where this was going.

“You can’t call them ‘lovebirds’!” Scootaloo said. “It could be offensive to a gri...to you know who.” She whispered the last of the sentence.

“That’s not what ‘lovebird’ means. Besides, we can’t call them love-pony and love-half-bird-half-cat!”

Scootaloo’s eyes bulged. “That’s even worse!”

Sandbar was blushing and I had wrapped a talon over my eyes when I heard the creak from behind us. Apple Bloom was pulling a small row boat down the river. More paper cutouts decorated it, although they looked a lot more shoddy than the bridge’s. A box attached to belts and a long metal bar had been installed on its side.

“Just call them love-creatures, okay?”

“Fine,” Sweetie Belle sniffed. “Anyway, today’s date for our two young love-creatures will be a leisurely cruise down the Ponyville River. Are there any questions before they embark?”

“So who’s going on this date?” I deadpanned.

Sandbar snickered and nudged me onto the boat. As soon as we sat down, Apple Bloom appeared by our side to throw life jackets and belts around us, and then wrapped her forelegs around the metal bar.

I put a talon up. “Don’t worry about—”

She hopped backwards. The bar swung to our laps, stopping an inch from our hind legs. Breath caught in my throat.

“Now y’all have nothing to be afraid of!” She trotted to the back.

After a moment of sitting frozen, I reached out a claw and tried wiggling the bar. It had some give. The belts were buckled so they could be undone easily enough. And the sky stretched wide above me. Nothing to worry about. I loosened the straps on the life jacket to help chill out.

With a surprisingly strong buck for a little pony, Apple Bloom sent the boat floating along with the slow river current.

“Many dates start with introductions,” Sweetie Belle said as she juggled between walking backwards and magically shuffling index cards. “Then the couple may attempt small talk, as you can see here.”

A clenched smile snapped onto Sandbar’s face. He rotated his head my way and said, “Uhm… How are your classes, Gallus?”

“They’re all right. I’m in one right now that’s a little weird.”

He lost the smile. “Same here.”

Pencils scribbled against notepads. Sandbar’s hooves tapped against the bar. My heart jumped a little when it seemed like the bar might close more tightly.

I felt chilly and puffed my feathers out. Ice crunched on the hull as the boat bounced off a bank. We silently floated into a bend.

An off-white shed appeared from behind a building in town. Red letters were scrawled across its front. I tried to stand up to get a better view, but the bar and belts held me down.

“Now the couple will settle into a warm, caring embrace,” Sweetie Belle said, “as they enter the Tunnel of Love.”

My mouth went dry.

“Are you okay?” Sandbar asked, his voice soft.

No one back then knew I had a problem with being in small spaces. With a herd of our classmates watching and taking notes, I wasn’t about to reveal it to everypony.

“Fine.” I clenched my jaw. “Just fine.”

My eyes wouldn’t leave the oncoming tunnel. Blood rushed in my ears. An argument broke out between the fillies. Snippets about Cozy Glow and not testing animatronics filtered through. My grip tightened on the bar. Cold iron bit back. The narrow entrance, shorter than the fillies’ shoulders, loomed in front. No signs of ventilation. No exit. I needed air, but no matter how much I tried, I kept gasping—

A tender hoof pressed against my claws. Beside me was Sandbar, his smile gentle and his eyes inviting. He exhaled, sending humid air washing across my beak, and I exhaled with him. Moments passed with our lungs empty. Our hearts were steady. His belly bulged, followed by his chest, as he inhaled over seconds. I matched his every move.

We shared breaths and gazes as the blackness swallowed us. Shadows hid the side of his face. The river splashed cavernously. Woody scents wafted through the air. Sandbar’s hoof squeezed my talon, and I knew he’d hold me as long as I needed him to.

“Thanks,” I said. His smile, even half in the dark, could have melted me.

A hiss started. Low tones drawled out, sending my down standing on end. The notes congealed into a shambling melody caught somewhere between lullaby and dirge.

Familiar, though. Actually recognizable. I began to place the song, something I’d heard around Ponyville before, but it was slowed way down, as if somepony—and three suspects came to mind—had set the wrong speed on a record player.

Red bulbs flickered on under a quartet of dress mannequins holding musical instruments, their glow turning the mannequins into leering demons dancing in gloom and flame. Larger lamps hung above them, unlit. Presumably the mannequins would have looked normal if all the lights had been on.

Doors slid open with a creak. A stream of blood poured from the ceiling.

That took a second for me to get. The fillies must have meant to make it a romantically-lit waterfall, but the lights were too red and the water too frothy. The astringent odor of a rusty nail completed the effect.

A cabinet squealed open, and a string of tiny pegasi dolls carrying bows and arrows coasted above us. Except they been tied up wrong and swung wildly from a fishing line. When the last one fell into the water inches from the boat, I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

Hearts and Hooves Day? This ride should have been the main attraction for Haunts and Horrors Night! And I couldn’t wait for the next grisly sight or sound.

Being shackled to a boat in a cramped tunnel shouldn’t have been fun. It shouldn’t have been bearable. Instead of freaking out, though, I was holding back guffaws at the broken down contraptions and macabre results. I knew who I had to thank for calming me down enough to enjoy this bizarre cruise. Sandbar deserved to know how much he meant to me, so I leaned over to sneak a kiss onto his neck.

I froze mid-lean. Sandbar’s eyes were the size of dinner plates.

“Sandbar?”

His teeth chattered. “I-it’s…” He pointed a foreleg to a painting hanging on a far wall. I could barely make out a picture of two young ponies kissing, but someone had added a reflective coat to their closed eyes. The broken lighting turned the glossy paint into wolf’s eyes in a dark forest.

The painting hung above another narrow archway with shut doors. The tunnel was going to close in again, but I pushed the thought away. Sandbar needed me to be brave. “C’mon, dude. It’s only a painting.”

A bang echoed. The painting flipped around. I glimpsed some wedding scene on the other side, but then Sandbar was squeezing the air out of me. My lungs didn’t work. Heartbeats pounded in my ears. The doors slithered open, but the arch’s sides were so close that the boat would never push through. This slapdash shed was going to collapse, I could see it, its whole weight would crush us.

I don’t remember what happened next except in snapshots: slapping at the belts; breaking the rod pinning my legs; flying hard into the ceiling; clawing open a gap; slipping my head through; Sandbar shouting for me before I scrambled outside.

By the time I could think again, I’d flown to a faraway tree and perched on a branch dotted with tiny green leaves. I rested my head against the trunk and gasped for air. Rugged bark pressed into my temple. My heart started to slow down, leaving me dizzy.

Grampa Gruff’s voice chimed in. Don’t fall off. You already look like a big enough idiot.

My claws dug into the branch. I started to wonder if I should even bother going back, but right then galloping hooves clattered up behind me. I girded myself for all the jeers a herd of ponies could throw at me.

“Gallus?”

Sandbar’s tender voice relaxed my grip. I turned around and found him alone on the ground. The tunnel was in sight behind a foothill, prominently featuring the hole I’d escape through, but I couldn’t see any of the other ponies. No telling what they thought of me.

“What happened back there?” he asked.

“Oh, I suddenly remembered I’m a griffon and needed to make a nest for us to roost in. Pass me some twigs, would ya?”

Based on the way he half-frowned, he knew I was joking. He just didn’t think it was funny.

I hopped out of the tree and landed next to him. “This isn’t a big deal or anything, but sometimes small spaces make me sort of nervous. Nothing to worry about.” I started walking back to the river, although I was a little unsteady on my talons and paws.

He trotted up beside me. “That was more than sort of nervous. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I snapped.

“You did punch a hole through the ceiling.”

“You’re one to—” I stammered, remembering how he’d jumped on me. “That’s… It’s…”

A heavy sigh slipped through my beak. The truth was I envied him. So what if he’d been startled by a dark hallway with a few broken gimmicks? He was fine now. He might have even had fun being spooked. Meanwhile, I’d be wobbling with each step for at least the next half-hour.

If I’d had my freakout a week or two earlier I would have told him to forget it. By then he’d talked me through enough rough days that it was worth trying to share a little. “You’re right, I was more than sort of nervous. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

His ears flicked back. “Do you get that way in tunnels only, or…”

“Tunnels, closets, tents, pretty much whenever I feel trapped. Even that life jacket put me on edge. Anything like that can make me flip out.”

“You didn’t flip out when we got into the tunnel.”

“That’s…true.” Our short trip through the tunnel replayed in my mind. “I think having you there really helped me. You were relaxed, and I knew you were looking out for me. So I could relax.” I paused when I realized what I’d said. “That’s really weird, isn’t it? Calming down just because someone else is calm?”

“That’s pretty normal, actually.” He sounded amused. “Feel up to giving that tunnel a second try with me?”

“Ah, no. Let’s start out easy and work our way back up to death traps.”

He thought for a few moments. “How about swing dancing? We’ll be close together, but if you start feeling cramped, you can just push me away for a few beats.”

“Cool. What’s swing dancing?”

“It’s like regular dancing, but with jazzy music. You switch places and sort of swing your partner out a lot.”

I nodded. “And what’s regular dancing?”

“…R-really?”

---

“You said we’d see some ghosts. All of us. So when’s it my turn?”

My question hangs in the water. Yona and Smolder are avoiding my eyes, and Sandbar’s turned away from me. Silverstream is in front of them, her ears flicking in thought, but it’s Ocellus who answers.

“None of us really saw ghosts. It was all just tricks of the light and Silverstream’s story.”

“Is that so, professor?” I say in a nasally voice. “Tricks of the light and spooky stories are all it takes to frighten a dragon and a yak?”

Yona spurts some bubbles but doesn’t take the bait. Smolder is clearly done listening to me.

“Fear is a very basic emotion,” Ocellus says, “and the fight-or-flight response is one of the core survival instincts that almost all animals have. When you encounter something that you can’t explain, your brain is really likely to perceive a threat, which triggers fear.”

I roll my eyes, which I’m pleasantly surprised to find squids can do. “Whatever.”

“That’s…how it usually works. Every creature is different, I guess.” Ocellus squints at me, disconcerted.

Silverstream’s ears are done flicking. She pipes up with, “There are a few other stories about seeing Calamus’s and Pelagica’s ghosts. Couples who elope say they’ve seen them, and there was a musician who said they were her muse.” A moment goes by, and then her arm-fin snaps in a weird gesture. “Oh! And they’ve been spotted by hippogriffs who were freediving.”

That’s an interesting word. Diving is a good way to catch a meal that’s not paying attention, although some creatures also say ‘diving’ when they mean jumping into water. Adding ‘free’ to it has to mean something, like adding ‘swing’ to ‘dancing.’ “What’s a freediver?”

“It’s when you go deep underwater without turning into a seapony.” She glances at me, a squid-griffon. “Or, you know, turning into some aquatic form. Freediving was a huge deal before hippogriffs had the magic pearl because there was no way to breathe underwater. On land, you can probably hold your breath for a minute or two, but with training you can hold your breath underwater for five or ten minutes! A freediver can go looking for pearls, dig up clams, spear fish, explore shipwrecks…” She trails off, apparently lost in thought.

“I’ve read about freediving,” Ocellus says. “Even without training, a lot of creatures autonomic reactions when they go into water. Their heart rate slows down and there’s less blood in their legs and tail, so their vital organs can keep working while their body uses less oxygen. It’s pretty dangerous, though. It can lead to blackouts, seizures, or permanent brain damage.”

“A boy from Terramar’s school tried it once,” Silverstream says softly. Her face twists into a somber mask. “He wanted to impress a girl he was crushing on, so he turned himself into a hippogriff underwater, took off his necklace, and swam to a cave. Some of his friends were supposed to time him, but I guess they got distracted. Maybe they just didn’t think it’d be risky.” Some disgust, or possibly anger, appears as a curled tweak in her lips. “He passed out and had to go to the hospital for a week. Even after he went back to school, I heard he had a tough time in class because he can’t remember things as well as he used to.”

“Sorry to hear that,” I mumble. Part of me wants to ask if the kid said anything about seeing ghosts, but Silverstream seems to be disturbed by this kid almost drowning himself.

Maybe Silverstream was the girl he tried to impress.

That thought shouldn’t bother me. This kid’s crush isn’t what got us talking about freediving, I recall. “You said freedivers see the ghosts.”

Silverstream snaps out of her funk. “Oh, right! Remember how they had to have divers explore this den after the charybdis left? And how they all had creepy vibes from it? All of them were freediving. That’s why they couldn’t explore much, because each of them only had five or ten minutes of air.” She turns aside like she’s about to share some juicy gossip. “What I’ve heard is, since the charybdis drowned its prey, Calamus’s and Pelagica’s ghosts come out to freedivers when they’re about to run out of air.”

Smolder lets out a yawn. “Can we go now? I think we’re all getting a little cranky.” She glances at me.

Silverstream and Ocellus float towards her, Yona, and Sandbar. A few of them copy Smolder’s yawn and mutter about how tired they are.

I take another look into the pit hoping something decided to show up, but there is still only vacant nothingness. Swishing sounds behind me signal that everyone else is calling it quits. Tonight I won’t be seeing any ghosts.

What did you expect? Ghosts aren’t real. All of this crap is made up.

I want to forget that. Water’s already pumping through me, pushing me away, but I wish there was any chance of seeing something from Silverstream’s story. Some hope that anyone can scare away the monsters hunting them. I just want a chance to believe, even if it’s only for a while.

Say, for five or ten minutes.

My tentacle wraps around the sliver of magic pearl that’s tied to my conic head. I make a dead stop a few yards from the pit and say, “Anyone want to find some ghosts with me?”

The five of them stop mid-swim, but only Silverstream faces me. No one says a word.

“C’mon, we just pop off our necklaces and sink, right? If ghosts are going to show up for anyone, it has to be for creatures freediving in the charybdis den. That’s, like, a double whammy of ghost bait.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Ocellus says. “What if someone passed out? Even if you don’t drown, you could end up with a memory problem for the rest of your life like Terramar’s friend.”

“Was that his deal?” I say wryly. “I must have forgot. Guess I don’t have much to lose, then!”

“That’s not funny.” Silverstream sounds small. I should take back the wisecrack. Later, though.

“Look, if you’re all too scared, I’ll just go by myself. Don’t worry, I’ll carry my necklace, so I can just toss it back on when I’m ready to go up.” One wave of my free arms pushes me over the den. I take a deep breath, and—

Did you get hay for brains all of a sudden? Think this through, boy.

Grampa Gruff’s voice makes me hesitate. How do I take a deep breath? Do I even have lungs as a squid? I’m about to back out, tell my friends I was kidding, when Sandbar speaks up.

“Gallus…” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. “Please be care—”

I snap off the necklace with a flash of light. Sandbar’s voice muddles into babbling tones. My vision blurs. Water soaks my down and fur. Air floods my lungs. My claws tighten around the necklace as I begin to sink.

Comments

[Jay Bear v2]

It looks like I’ll have to post the next (and final) update on Friday 10/26 US time. Sorry about the delay, y’all!

9250957
Heh, it just so happens a good part of tonight’s chapter is a flashback about them on Hearts and Hooves Day. That said, this is a horror and shipping story which, so far, has been heavy on the shipping and ephemeral on the horror. No guarantees about where they go from here.

[Padgriffin]

*checks clock* God damnit, a Cliffhanger... Still amazing though, but now I have to wait till Saturday.

[Samey90]

I shrugged. We’d told the fillies we were a couple during registration. They’d cooed and begged for all the cutesy details…and then confessed that they had no idea what to teach a couple.

Cutie Mark Crusaders Yaoi Fangirls, yay!

Snippets about Cozy Glow and not testing animatronics filtered through in snippets.

That's some strange sentence. A lot of snippets in it.

[Jay Bear v2]

9257773

That's some strange sentence. A lot of snippets in it.

Argh, that’s what I get for tweaking right before posting. Thanks for catching it.