Chapter 4: White Lightning
The purple hot air balloon floated slowly, gracefully, through the sky, slowly approaching the cloud house. The view was perfect. Ponies roaming about the town down below, giving the slightest background noise - a sort of buzz - looked nearly like ants. Twilight almost couldn’t feel the slow motion of the balloon; it looked more like the clouds were slowly, slowly passing by them than it looked like the hot air balloon was passing by the clouds. She couldn’t tear herself away from the view, one foreleg hooked over the edge of the basket carrying her, Spike, and her new friend, Strange Form.
Truly, it was beautiful. Serene. Nothing could disturb her, she was at peace - “Twilight, are we close yet?” Strange asked, antsy to see his mother.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, Strange, we’re only a few minutes off now.” Twilight replied. Strange Form had been asking her that question, or some variation of it, for the past entire bucking balloon flight. The spell Twilight had cast on him apparently just gave him an idea of where his family was - which was, apparently, only his mother - and then faded away, so he couldn’t know by himself how close they were.
But by Celestia she knew he was only a few hours old but he could at least be patient, it was a hot air balloon not some sort of train in the air or something. It wasn’t exactly quick, that much was clear.
Strange Form seemed to tut or something along those lines, his voice hadn’t really gotten to normal yet - far from it - and he turned back to face Spike, striking up a conversation about something or other. Twilight had, honestly, tuned out the second he turned away. She genuinely did love the view that was presented. From up here, sight seemed to stretch out for miles more than usual. If she really tried, she could even see Foal Mountain in the distance, though only just the barest hint of it.
The house Strange Form had identified was on the outer reaches of Cloudsdale, if it would even have been registered as Cloudsdale territory in the first place. It was one of the many cloud houses that was closer to Ponyville than to Cloudsdale, really, and Twilight was only not sure about if it counted as Ponyville or Cloudsale because it was - well, a cloud house, and Rainbow Dash was the only pegasus she knew who actually lived in Ponyville in a cloud house as well.
However, that wasn’t to say that cloud houses so close to Ponyville were rare. That wasn’t true. They weren’t rare at all; it was just that they tended not to be grouped together and, for all that they weren’t rare, neither were they common. Luckily for the group, it was actually quite close to the ground compared to other cloud houses as well. One thing Twilight did wonder was how whoever was Strange Forms mother could walk on clouds when Strange Form, at the least, had no obvious magic or wings. Not only that, but how this creature hadn’t been noticed by her, or at least by one of her friends, far before now. Strange Form wasn’t exactly conspicuous, or normal, as much as she felt bad thinking it.
She’d have to wait and see for when they docked with the house. It didn’t seem that large, either. Perhaps, like griffins, Strange Form and his species could walk on clouds but not manipulate them - it would certainly explain why the cloud house was not, like others, massive. The material, after all, was incredibly cheap and incredibly easy to use; at least, for pegasi.
One thing bugged Twilight. She couldn’t put a hoof on that thing though. Something just felt wrong about the situation, and she didn’t know what. It was similar to when she had first entered the Everfree Forest with her friends in order to defeat Nightmare Moon, yet somehow darker. Not more ominous, not at all. Darker. Not even more evil, simply darker, a feeling she couldn’t shake; she couldn’t describe it well and neither could she understand it well. It was strange.
As the hot air balloon flew towards the cloud house, closer and closer by the second, Strange Form chose to zone out for a few seconds as Spike ranted about how Hum Drum from the series of comics called The Power Ponies needed to receive some sort of power-up or at least a few comics dedicated to him like Fili-Second, the Masked Matter Horn, and all the rest had gotten. Something about him being as valuable as the rest, as a main character, even if he was just a sidekick.
Instinct rumbled through his body, awoken after Twilight had hit him with whatever spell that was. It seemed almost gleeful, as if it was coming close to something amazing. Something worthwhile. Our mother is nearing, and we shall feast on whatever remains - only after we tear apart the reptile-
Another tidbit of knowledge made itself known. ‘Dragon.’
-dragon that can breathe that detestable, painful fire; only after we tear apart the unicorn that dares to try and hold you still with magic, as if you could ever be held by a PREY SPECIES! Let It not interfere with your goal, the only goal you should ever strive for,
“Hunting, Expanding, Protecting,” Strange Form mumbled to himself as Spike continued to rant about probably still the Power Ponies. The instinct seemed to grow infinitely stronger as soon as he said those words, and Spike paused. He reached out with a claw and tapped Strange softly on the shoulder, once, and Strange - for lack of a better word, Strange awoke.
Spike barely saw it. There was suddenly a claw gripping his arm tightly, and then it was gone. Strange Form mumbled out an apology and something about how it had surprised him, and Spike dismissed it and did not, rather surprisingly, lose his stride, continuing to go on about the Power Ponies, much to Strange Form’s chagrin. He really was happy that Spike wasn’t incredibly terrified of him considering how close Spike had been to being torn apart by his claws, but he wasn’t overly interested in the Power Ponies.
Well. At least he was learning new things.
Like how he wasn’t interested in the Power Ponies.
Nonetheless, for some reason he didn’t want to be rude and interrupt, a fact which his instincts seemed to distinctly disagree with, though telling him to interrupt in a far more intense way than simply swaying the flow of the conversation away from Power Ponies. Yes, tearing his head off and feasting on his oesophagus was indeed much more intense than that.
He pondered something in his head for a second before turning to Twilight. Spike kept talking and seemed not to notice - he could get really into talking about the Power Ponies. “Twilight,” he began, hesitating before continuing as all of a sudden the only sound was the gentle breeze as the hot air balloon moved and Twilight lazily turned to face him, “could you, uh, maybe, you know, hit me with that spell? The one you hit me with earlier?”
Twilight stared at him like he was from a different world. “Right,” she said, rolling the R, “why would you want to be hit with a sleep spell?”
“Ah. Well. It didn’t - uh, that is to say, it felt nice and made me a bit relaxed? I think maybe I’m - well, a bit - well, still a bit antsy - that is to say, not gonna kill you, but antsy - after the fire? You know, still a bit antsy and stuff?” Strange stuttered out, really not wanting to explain to Twilight, or anyone apart from maybe his mother, that his instincts had their own voice and were very vocal sometimes.
There was a minute of silence. If Strange could sweat, he would’ve been sweating. He thought that it was good to know he couldn’t sweat. Twilight shrugged, her horn lit up, and Strange gasped as the beam of purple dissipated across the front of his head, his head suddenly not as crowded as it had been only a second earlier. Now it was just him, his thoughts, and-
Spike opened his mouth again. “So, anyway, as I was saying,”
-the Power Ponies. Perhaps Strange Form feigned interest so well that Spike thought he was invested in it by now. It was too late to turn back, really. He would have to weather the storm that was Spike being a fan of the Power Ponies. His train of thought encountered the words that his instincts had screamed - he was starting to think they were more than instincts considering they had a voice, but never mind that - those words being ‘Our mother is nearing, and we shall feast on whatever remains’.
It was almost like his instincts were encouraging him to kill and eat his mother, but… no, it was actually that his instincts were telling him she was already dead and telling him to feast on the leftover body. He refused to believe that. They were wrong. They had to be wrong. He promptly moved on from that little distraction for his thoughts; he wasn’t going to ponder it. His instincts were wrong and he was going to be able to see his mother soon, and that was that.
Minutes passed. Minutes of Spike somehow still talking. Minutes of Strange Form pretending to be interested as he wandered through the playground that was his mind. Minutes of Twilight admiring the scenery of Ponyville and ponies far below her, growing sparser, and nature in the distance, wild, beautiful, and yet mostly tamed.
Twilight looked to the side and saw that the cloud house was there. With a smile a purple aura surrounded her horn and then the balloon, letting it grind to a halt. She reached out with her magic to the fire that was keeping the balloon afloat and moving and dampened it, letting it remain at the power she had reduced it to - enough to keep the balloon up but not enough to do anything more. Since Spike had produced the fire and his fire was inherently magical, it would stay, burning at that level for a long while. Hours, perhaps, though they probably wouldn’t need that long before. The cloud house wasn’t that big, after all. How hard would it be to find her?
The hot air balloon softly touched the porch of the house. “Alright, guys, we’re here!” Twilight exclaimed, turning to them and lighting her horn up again, casting a cloudwalking spell on Spike, though not one on Strange Form. She suspected he could walk on clouds - and that suspicion was confirmed when he hopped out of the basket. He seemed taller again, reaching the base of her horn, if not slightly taller. He also seemed, for some reason, relieved as he left the basket, though she supposed that was because the journey was over and he was going to meet his mother, finally.
Little did Twilight know, he was definitely relieved for a different reason.
He had a newfound hate for the Power Ponies.
The two other occupants of the basket followed him out. Twilight reached out with a hoof as she approached the door and knocked three times rather politely. Strange Form seemed to be vibrating or something with excitement, and Spike simply seemed happy. As Twilight looked at the house, though, that feeling returned, amplified many times over. Her stomach churned. She almost felt like throwing up - something bad was happening, or had already happened, or was going to happen.
She shook that feeling off. It had to be wrong. It was too intense.
A second stretched into a minute, and clearly Strange Form had had enough. He leaped through the cloud door, the object evaporating as he crashed through it. What Twilight didn’t know was that a weaker version of that feeling filled him as well; less dark and less present, but filled with expectations of something terrible.
“Strange!” Twilight said, about to scold him, before he bounded up the stairs directly forward blindly, not paying attention to his senses - specifically his smell, that told him something was very wrong, that something smelled very, very bad.
Twilight groaned and entered the house as well. Instantly, she recoiled, muzzle scrunching up. Spike, who had taken the opportunity of the waiting to climb onto her back, gagged and turned green somehow. It was odd you could see the blood when the flesh was covered by tough scales.
She turned in the direction of the smell - the kitchen. That feeling screamed at her, and she barely felt as if she was still in control of her body, trotting forward slowly and wearing a disgusted look across her face.
Strange tore up the stairs and across the second floor, finding nothing and no one noticeable apart from a general mess. Clearly, his mother wasn’t the best at cleaning. He was okay with that; family came above all else, after all, though for some reason something told him that family was not always the most important thing. He ignored that.
He stopped on the topmost stair, perking up for a second. He smelled something in the air. It was a distinct stench - he knew what it was instinctively but couldn’t quite pin it down, sorting through the knowledge and through his instincts, old and new, to try and remember what that was.
...death. That was undeniably the disgusting, horrible stench of death. He rushed down the stairs towards the smell - dammit, something was wrong and he didn’t know what - and stopped behind Twilight, who was blocking the way to the rest of the house through the kitchen. She seemed frozen. Spike was looking over her shoulders and was just as still, face entirely green. They were both breathing quickly, and Strange Form was about to ask what was wrong before they screamed a grating, discordant, wailing scream.
He recoiled and rushed to her side.
A sharp intake of breath. That was a dead body. A messy hole had been torn through the barrel of the snow white pegasus, and it looked like it had been from the inside. Gore covered the kitchen. She was unmistakably dead - limp, life missing from her eyes. There was… something else. A hole in the floor. An orchard in the distance.
His legs collapsed from under him. Somehow, he knew.
He opened his mouth, but closed it again. Twilight had backed up a few steps and Spike was clutching tightly to her back, tears slowly leaking from his eyes.
Tunnel vision. Vertigo. His emotions seemed to crash. This was wrong.
What was happening?
He couldn’t cry, but he wished he could.
He wished he could cry. Or do anything.
A low hiss turned into a piercing screech as he clutched at his head, softly banging it against the cloud floor.
Spike cried harder. Twilight tore her eyes from the body and to Strange Form. She choked back vomit that had been threatening to eject itself.
“Is that-” She began, but he only screeched harder. She grit her teeth and walked backwards out of the kitchen and onto the porch, laying down and forced to listen to his tortured screeches. She could guess. She didn’t know how, but clearly Strange did know.
That had been his mother.
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I don't know much about the Aliens franchise. What's up with the XX121?
Oh, god, Strange Form, I’m so sorry....
9767508 Xenomorph XX121 is the full name of the name 'xenomorph'!
9767551 Just wait until next chapter.
Oh no...
I knew it was coming and I'm still sad
great chapter
9767563 Thank you!
9767561
Oh, no, don’t abuse him more, please, just LEAVE HIM ALONE....
9767568 We'll see... >:)
9767570
*grabs M6D and fires at author, who scrambles away from the abused xenomorph pony*
9767572 *Author still has his keyboard*
9767574
*throws plasma grenade at keyboard, said grenade sticks to keyboard, author, recognising what grenade it is and what danger he’s in, drops keyboard and dives behind desk*
9767578 Shit...
Well. I guess I'm getting a new keyboard. That one cost like £10 anyway.
*'splosion*
9767585
*comforts xenomorph pony, wishing he could resurrect the poor alien’s ‘mother’
9767590
Hey what's with the explosi-...shit, wait...
author you better start running *said the very angry xenomorph king as he starts running at author behind his desk*
note that when I say xeno king I don't mean the non-canon anti-xenomorph shit9767680 *Runs*
BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
I JUST WANT TO WRITEEEEEEEEEEE-
9767690
please note the picture/art I have (not my) that's a REALLY well done work of a xenomorph and/or neomorph is not working so you got my picture of the sunset9767695 Ah, that's cool! The sunset is nice!
giphygifs.s3.amazonaws.com/media/egMH1R1RrfIsM/giphy.gif
Poor poor Strange, somberly waiting to see what happens next
hey I found Strange...
i.pinimg.com/originals/60/f0/c5/60f0c5fcec25a6489fee2db69e123229.jpg
9768236 Omigod it's so CUTE.
9767809 Save your 'poor Strange' statement for next chapter >:)
9768428
Oh no.... WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SWEET LITTLE ALIEN BOY!
9767702
Yeah, well I hope your doing alright..besides having your head removed and all, sorry for that Anyways, don't rush it and have a good time and a good day bud *xenomorph then walks back to the hive on the upper part of mountain*
9768455 Uh... let's just say 'bad things' >:)
9768564 Well, it might be out tomorrow since I'm really happy about 500 views, but we'll see!
9768574
Alright, but if your going to (maybe) upload it tomorrow, you might want to go back and check for any mistakes and, PLEASE do not rush, also, if foam becomes a fucking xenomorph king (like from here https://www.fimfiction.net/story/318825/the-xeno-that-came-to-equestria ) I be a happy xenomorph.
note is one that's good but I can't find it9768585
*Brings friendly xenomorph ponies in, along with UNSC marines and Swords of Sangheilios Elites to guard them from danger, which includes any dangers the writer may put in*
9768585 I actually didn't like that fic. We'll see! Also, as it so happens, apparently I don't make many mistakes grammatically! You know, I haven't checked over a single chapter before publishing it so far? Not a good habit - works anyway, apparently!
9768639
Alright, and I can see why you didn't like it, but you read the one of a xenomorph king with a egg that holds a Royal hugger and lands in the mountain? But anyways yeah all is good bud, and have a good one
9768666 You too!