Metamorphosis

by Nothingofall

Metamorphosis

Floating. That’s what I’m doing right now. Floating.

It feels warm, but not in a good way. Like my entire body is wrapped in the coils of a snake, or like I’m a piece of food in stomach acid. The thoughts make me scared, make me wanna yell, but I can’t speak. I can’t even move. I can only drift in place, inside the sickly warmth. My entire vision is clouded by a thick green wall, too hazy to see clearly through, not even a glimpse of light or dark is there, just a hazy green glow.

I try to think back to where I was before, but thoughts only come in brief flashes that pass like sand in the wind: Me sending the night guards to their shift. Holding my daughter while Cadance coos lovingly at her. A sudden telegram from the princesses. The window glass shattering. A swarm of black shapes. Darkness. All turns to darkness.

The memories are short but still make my head throb; thinking itself seems to be a battle. My mind is shut down and clouded; I almost want to believe that I’m just in bed, recovering from a really bad hangover, being scolded and laughed at by my smirking wife, but the thought dies as soon as it comes. I’m washed over with thoughts of the worst cases, my brain seems to be pushing them upon me, screaming at me to have no hope. It wants me scared, it wants me to panic, but, most clearly, it wants me to know that I’m in danger.

Questions flood my mind: Who? What? Where? Why? Each is cruelly unanswered, and I’m only left with the thick haze. That is my only reality, all else is a mystery. For a moment, I believe I can hear a buzzing noise beyond the prison, and spot a brief black shape quickly pass through the green mist, but it leaves as swiftly as it comes, and I’m left back in my heavy solitude.

Thoughts send me into a frenzy, I want to lash out and collide against my unknown prison, call for my fellow soldiers but my muscles lie slack. My mind is not in control of my body.

…

I don’t know when it happens exactly, but I begin to recognise the sensation pounding in my head. It happened close to my wedding day, aches that pierced my skull, pains I had passed off as migraines at the time before learning that it had been my mind being poisoned by monsters, turning me into some kind of husk.

That pain is a constant state now. I can’t remember why it’s returned, but I can remember the pain enough to realise something.

Changelings are somewhere nearby.

I thought we were rid of them after Cadance and I had sent them and their Queen back to the wastelands, it had been over a year since then after all and there had never been an incident since then. In fact, my sister’s assistant, Spike had even befriended a rogue Changeling named Thorax who had wanted to make friends. We all befriended the rogue by the end; Twilight and Cadance trusted him so I saw no reason to distrust him as well.

Clearly, that may have been a mistake.

I don’t want to believe Thorax was a liar, I want to believe he was genuine in his attempts, I want to believe that Twilight was right to follow Spike’s example, but all I know now is that I’ve been captured by his kind. Was he really a spy after all? Was everything he said a damn trick? Was this his plan the whole time? I wince at the thoughts, both in pain and disgust. I know it’s the worst-case scenario, and I know that’s also what this prison is forcing me to think on, but it appears venomously likely nonetheless.

So, if I’ve been captured by Changelings I must be in one of those disgusting sacks they stuck Princess Celestia in last time. I think it was like a cocoon of some kind, obviously meant to detain prisoners. That’s what I’m in. Every realisation is like a nail into my skull, every thought a tugging on my nerves. It infuriates me that I can’t even show any anger, the sap in these things must act of neutralising magic that numbs the nerves, keeps us submissive.

They’re probably in control of my thoughts as well, heck who’s to say they’re not in control right now? Maybe that’s also what this gunk does to ponies; allows those things to mess with your own mind, let them have power over your thoughts.

Is every thought I make even my own?

Are they only letting me remember these things to taunt me?

Do I have any power over myself at all?

…

I remember the first night after Cadance and Flurry came home. We put her to bed and just watched her as she slept, snuggled into her pillow in pure bliss, cute little snores escaping her as she slept. I couldn’t help myself from starting to cry, I just kept thinking “this is my daughter” repeatedly. It’s impossible to recognise that pride as a parent until you experience it yourself.

Cadance smiled and held me close as I cried like a baby, staying like that for almost half an hour before we went to our own bed. Even then, I couldn’t go a full minute without feeling a sudden jolt to go check on my daughter; I needed to make sure my little girl was safe, I was her dad, it was my job to protect her. Cadance indulged me with a giggle, soon enough falling to sleep while I continually ran to my daughters’ room every hour, each time finding her just like I left her, still snuggled and snoring in her cot. Eventually I just fell asleep in her room, Cadance said she found me the next day with hoof in my mouth, curled next to Flurry’s cot like a lap dog. She showed all her friends those pictures, but I didn’t care, I was proud, I was the overbearing, overprotective dad.

These memories are a victory to me.

These are images I created myself, ones that those monsters can never take away from me.

…

I never feel hungry in this state; I don’t even feel tired despite my motionless limbs. Can I even sleep in this prison? Tartarus, is there even a need? I can’t tell what time of day it is beyond that green wall. I don’t know if it’s day or night, I don’t even know if I know how long I’ve been here, I just start up and off again like a toy with low batteries.

I just feel like nothing.

I feel like I can’t even feel.

…

There’s something in the cocoon with me.

I first felt it this… I felt it earlier, something slimy slithering down my legs and along my back. It was like how you imagine a snake if it was moving on you, thin, wet, dangerous. I tried to swat at it, until I was reminded that those Changelings had left me unable to even crane my head. All I could do was just let it crawl all over me, slowly examining every strand of my fur until it stopped somewhere on the middle of my back, near the middle of my spine.

Then suddenly a warm feeling went all over my back, under my skin in fact, like an injection of some kind. What the heck are those things even doing to me. I can’t even turn to know what it’s done, what it is even!

All I can do is wait.

...

I’ve never been patient; Twilight would tell you that for certainty. When we were kids, it would always be her who told me to calm down when we were waiting in the queue for the ice cream stall. Her, a seven-year-old filly, having to remind her older brother that two minutes was not the equivalent of waiting an eternity, and blushing in embarrassment while I exaggeratedly groaned at every time a small colt changed his mind on what he wanted, her apologising to the glaring parents while I glared back at them.

Celestia knows Twily deserves to be a Princess more than anypony if she’s that patient that she could put up with me. I’d always called her the family’s little princess, because that was what she was, evn in our games when I played the knight who saved the fair Princess Twilight from the ferocious baby dragon, so I’d be lying if I said that I was massively shocked when Twilight became the real deal.

Smart, loving, kind: Twilight is the perfect Princess. She’s my little sister, my LSBFF, and I couldn’t be prouder. I know she’ll come, she’s saved Equestria time and time again, her and her friends will be able to find me, and anypony else these monsters may have captured.

I have faith in my sister, and that will never be taken away.

…

Minutes? Hours? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?

Time is an empty space.

Perhaps I blink and a lifetime has passed.

All I can do is live it.

Wait and hope.

…

More of those snake like things came. I felt them all at once, each crawl from the top of the cocoon and stop at a different area of my body. One crawled down my face, black and worm like, green fluid evident at its end.

It kills me that I can’t do anything. I’m a soldier, captain to the royal guard, and I all I could do was watch those things slide across my skin like a taunting cobra. Is it because I’m too weak, or are those things too strong? They all rest across me, each stopping at a random spot. Legs, hooves, belly, back, neck, head, horn: all are covered by one of those black tentacles. I still don’t know what they’re for.

Everything feels warm.

I hate it.

I’m afraid of it.

…

When I was a kid, I used to be picked on, bullied rather. Lots of ponies never understood why, I wasn’t a particularly small colt, I didn’t have anything that made me stand out. To most, I was just the kind of colt who’d fade into the background, the kind you wouldn’t remember a day after talking to.

But a cruel fact of life is, bullies pick upon the fact that some kids just don’t have the confidence to defend themselves.
And me, being the kid who’d rather keep away from his peers and play with his sister, was quickly pounced upon as that kind of kid. The perfect victim.

It would happen every day, someone would ‘misplace’ my text books in the garbage cans, trip me in the corridors, even send me home with a couple of bruises if they were having a bad day.

I probably could have done something right there, I was skilled in magic, I was a taller than most colt, but my confidence was what kept me down, I never believed I would get anywhere if I tried to defend myself, so I just took the easy route and accepted the abuse.

Then one day after school, I found myself being followed by my three regular tormentors, toxic intent evident. I tried to run away, but they quickly cornered me by a wall, I couldn’t run, so I just did what I normally did. Shut down and wait for it to end.

I heard the gruff yell of a stallion cut in, the bullies all turned to the side and fled as soon as they saw the large white Pegasus storming towards them, his body covered by a thick plate of golden armour.

A soldier.

I never learnt his name, but as soon as the bullies were gone, the soldier looked down at me and seemed like an entirely different pony, smiling and calm. He offered to walk me home, and in complete awe, I of course accepted his offer.

Walking by this giant, this pony that seemed so strong, so indestructible to everyone around him, it filled me with a sense of wonder I had never experienced before.

After getting me home and talking to my thankful parents, the soldier turned to me with another smile and asked me if I was okay? I never answered that simple question. I instead responded with another question?

How do I become strong like you?

The stallion had paused for a moment, then the warm smile returned, and in an act of kindness I have never experienced since, the soldier took off his own helmet and gently placed it on my head. I had to hold it up since it was so big, but I still remember the wide grin that filled my face nonetheless.

‘I’m not strong kid,’ the stallion had told me, using his wings to adjust the helmet, ‘It could have been three stallions much bigger than me picking on you, and I still would have stepped in, I might have even lost the fight’ he chuckled, ‘But I just did what any soldier would do, we protect others however we can. It’s not strength, it’s bravery.’

After that, with a ruffle of my mane, the soldier had left, his helmet still resting on my small head.

I knew then I wanted to be a soldier. I didn’t want to become strong and exact revenge on those bullies. I just wanted to protect others and maybe one day be able to share the same advice that soldier had told me.

I wanted to be brave.

…

So much pain.

My back is splitting apart, I can feel the flesh cracking as something sharp and wiry pushes against the muscle. The agony is unbearable, but I remain motionless, I can’t even scream despite how much I try to.

The pain in my head has also become worse. Every moment I feel it like a pickaxe being slammed against my forehead, sharp yet blunt, sending a wave of pain throughout my nerves.

I almost feel my muscles shifting.

I can’t blank out the pain anymore, memories are like needles in haystacks now. Thoughts only make the pain worse. But I do what I can, I cling to happy images of my wife and sister, a purple alicorn and a pink alicorn. I do my best to-

Another stinging sensation shifts my bones. I try, desperately try, but I can’t.

I can’t even remember their names anymore.

The changelings are breaking me.

…

For a moment I thought I had escaped.

I can’t even remember blinking but I suddenly saw blue instead of green. I thought it was the sky, thought sister or wife or princesses had finally saved me. It was finally over.

But the blue only came out of one eye. My right eye had turned blue.

This is not a prison. This was never just a prison.

My horn is beginning to twist and chip away, I can’t see it, but I can feel it. I also feel the patches of flesh beginning to rot and disintegrate in the fluid, leaving thick holes in my rotting skin. The wings have begun to emerge now, thin and paper like as they grow on my tearing back.

It doesn’t even hurt anymore, that’s the worst thing.

This is a transformation, a transition, a metamorphosis.

They’re turning me into one of them.

…

I can’t help but think back to changelings I had seen in the past.

I think of their dry, cracked skin and imagine what fur may have once been there, what lives they may have lived, what families had been left behind.

Could any of them even remember what they once were?

Were they all ponies too once? Have they all gone through this as well?

Poor things.

…

This is true torture.

I can’t cry, tear ducts have been dried in the fluid. In my mind I can see me, shifting and changing into something else, it’s clear the changelings are controlling that. They want me to know what they’re doing to me, know what is happening while I lay submissive.

Nerves, muscle, bones organs, are all moulded against my will. I can feel them turn inside me, can sense every unnatural turn my body makes. I morph and am unable to stop it.

I can barely remember my own name now, maybe that’s for the best.

Who wants to remember they were turned into this?

…

Day = night.

Night = day.

Time = green and blue and black.

…

no one is coming to save me.

might as well accept the truth.

i only hope I’m the only one who’s been captured, I hope purple alicorn has never found me, I hope she’s safely away from this nightmare.

i remember purple alicorn meant something to me, I can’t remember what though.

…

i saw one of them outside the cocoon. a large one it looked like. they tapped on the wall, put their face closer, I think I saw a grin, then spoke.

a female voice, familiar somehow.

You’re mine now.

her voice was mocking me, but it felt like a lullaby. the first feeling of peace in so long.

it’s almost over. that’s clear enough.

…

i’m young and holding a small purple unicorn, she smiles at me

i see myself on one knee, offering a ring to pink alicorn, she cries and we kiss

purple unicorn smiles again and sings at my wedding

i cry as purple unicorn becomes purple alicorn

me and pink alicorn cry at the sight of small alicorn

something inside me stirs at the memories, it makes me sick that I’m hungry

…

i watch as my fur falls off, my skin goes soft, turns black, my vision goes blue, an aching hunger is wracking in my stomach, i’m so hungry it’s painful, my mind is blank and bare, teeth have rotted away to fangs, I feel her voice in my head, a female that makes the pain stop, i long for her, i long for my queen, too long, anything to make the pain go away, anythinganythinganything

…

birthiscomplete

praisethequeen

…

loveisfoodthatisallitissustinancenutritionenergy

myqueenismysaviorherloveismysalvationdelivererofpower

hatchhatchhatchhatchbreakawaywetfreedom

myqueenistherestrokesmycheekbowcommandhunt.

hunt

hunt

hunt.

servemyqueen

…

Author's Note:

Yes I know that this goes against canon, but after seeing some of the beautiful artwork that surrounded this idea, I just had to go into it.

Please feel free to share your thoughts, whether you liked or hated it!

Comments

[FicFacFlac]

AGGHHHHHH THIS IS SO EMO YET SOOO GOOOOOOOD

HELLLLLLPPPPPP MEEEEEEEE

[Nothingofall]

9591178
Thanks, I guess

[Mix-up]

Huh, I though the idea was good, I wished for so many years for a good story with Shining being turned into a Changeling, I haven't seen one that really got me the way that I really liked except for one, which was deleted unfortunately. You are really close to the mark, and I certainly liked that you used the cocoon as well, the mind altering was a nice touch too through I feel it was a little too rushed. I wished that the process had been more of a slow burn process with more physical description. My only real complain is that I would have wished to see Shining leaving a cocoon and have chance to see the horror of what he became before being gradually mind wipe while he futilely tries to resist the process. Still, I hope this is the prologue to a longer story that might go into more in depth on what happened next of why Chrysalis pricked him to transformed into a changeling or what uses he has for it.

Good job, keep it up.

[Nothingofall]

9591295
Thank you for the review first of all.

Unfortunately this is not a prologue, this was just a one shot. In my world, once a pony has lost their physical body and their mind, there is no chance in regaining their memories, they're just another changeling, hence why i ended it where it did.

Regardless, Im glad you enjoyed it.

[TheMRNoob]

Such a wonderful and underrated story. I'm sure that if you keep writing things like this, you'll become someone recognized around here!

[Nothingofall]

9592925
Thank you very much for your kind words!

Someone recognized? Oh, here's hoping!!!

[cheesegal]

Wow, this is so good! Does the Thorax in your universe know about this stuff? That all of them were once ponies or other creatures? It probably wouldn't be a concern for the other changelings since they're so focused on eating, but Thorax has managed to find a way past that so I wonder what his thoughts on his origins are.

[Nothingofall]

9595830
Well, the Thorax in this universe does probably know about this stuff, but it is not his own origins. For me, there are two ways to become a changeling, either you are born or transformed. The born are intelligent changelings capable of their own thoughts, while the transformed are unintelligent beasts only implanted with the desire to serve - the ultimate punishment if you will.

Thanks for the awesome comment!

[Mossy Pages]

Very good.

[Skyblazer9]

Well done.

[Alex Warlorn]

My only regret is that we don't get to see much after the hatching.

[Nothingofall]

10589276
Ah, I'm very sorry if that aspect disappointed you. I wanted to focus on Shining's mental breakdown, and my position is that his thought process would be completely broken when he was transformed. But, I do understand if you wanted to see more from this idea. Sorry about that.
Thank you for reading.

[nightshroud96]

The descriptions of what the cocoon is doing to him is just wow

I can’t blank out the pain anymore, memories are like needles in haystacks now. Thoughts only make the pain worse. But I do what I can, I cling to happy images of my wife and sister, a purple alicorn and a pink alicorn. I do my best to-

Sucks Spike means nothing to him I guess..