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Chapter 1: On Uneasy Hoofsteps2,682 words
Chapter 2: ...Gesundheit2,364 words
Chapter 3: Unhappy1,917 words
Chapter 4: Temporary Head Case2,886 words
Chapter 5: How is Your Brain NOT Broken?!1,221 words
CHOLD Chapter 7: The Morning After...8,209 words
CHOLD Chapter 8: Everfree or Nevermore...3,207 words
CHOLD Chapter 9: Big Brown Truck4,623 words
CHOLD Chapter 10: Nightmare3,861 words
CHOLD Chapter 11: What is This, a Soap Opera?6,425 words
CHOLD Chapter 12: What's Big, Red, Blue, and Terrifying?4,966 words
CHOLD Chapter 13: Things are STARTING to go WRONG!4,252 words
CHOLD Chapter 14: Plot Twist592 words
CHOLD Chapter 14.51,036 words

CHOLD Chapter 8: Everfree or Nevermore...

Chapter 8: Everfree or Nevermore...

Holy CRAP.

Many people shared Chelsea's thoughts in regards to the M.S.U. Campus. And who wouldn't?

It wasn't that it was enormous: She had gotten over that within a week.

It wasn't that the architecture was impressive: It is definitely what one would call "cool", but She had also gotten over this.

What caused this reaction was the huge tropical rainforest that had sprung up in the same place as the currently deserted campus.

She got out of her car. It was a humid 80 degrees Fahrenheit, despite being early autumn. She experimentally walked out the gate, to be confronted by the 60 degree wall outside it.

From what she could tell, the forest seemed to refuse to change temperature. It sounded with tropical wildlife, including cicadas, song birds, and strange things she couldn't put a finger on. The early morning frost had all but disappeared into a misty film that lingered as various clouds in the canopy.

Chelsea tried driving a little ways to her dormitory, but the growth was too thick to get far...

The car was soon completely snarled in thick foliage and beyond working condition. Her parents would NOT be happy.

She hated the thought of having to walk in the creepy new place, but she sucked in the courage to get out of her car.

An absolute absence of signs of civilized life permeated the campus.

Vines snaked up light poles and huge buildings, while gigantic trees spanned well beyond the tallest buildings the campus had to offer. All signs of power were gone.

...This is all like a stereotypical post apocalyptic movie set.

...Much scarier in real life.

Chelsea continued walking, and begun noticing things. She caught sight of an abandoned cell phone, still on, and still open. She picked it up, hoping to learn of it's owner, and give it to her (It was an obviously girly phone, with sequins and stickers. Not to my taste).

Even more disturbing was a discarded tennis shoe. Chelsea quickened her pace.

A shadowy beast lumbered across the path behind a cloud of mist, causing her to stand completely still in sudden fear.

It turned, and sniffed the air.

She didn't dare to move, breathe, or think.

The beast continued on it's path, and Chelsea found herself seeking the protection of the looming and frightening trees. She continued slowly through the undergrowth.

She saw a set of observing, glowing eyes following her at her exact pace.

A horrible shiver ran down her spine as she continued, knowing something was following her.

Locked!

Chelsea kicked her dormitory door several times, quite eager to get into the building and retrieve her things.

...But that's pointless. I don't have the keys to enter, and I wouldn't be able to carry everything safely!

A large branch fell and broke somewhere behind her. Next thing she knew, her jacket was cut in several spots, she was bleeding in plenty more, and the glass door which had denied her entrance was demolished.

One way I hope to never get in here again.

She made her way to her dorm room and knocked, just in case her rarely seen room mate was there.

No response.

She pulled out her key and unlocked the door. Not thinking twice, she strode into the dorm room and packed the things she would not want to lose to this disaster:

Her laptop, her pillow, the thick, soft blanket her grandma made for her, and a box of granola bars for the trip home disappeared into her backpack, which was hurriedly zipped shut and hoisted onto her shoulder, all the while her mind told her that she could not leave the same way she came.

She paused, and then stole her room mate's abandoned mattress padding.

It may have been necessary to have something soft to lay on if she were stuck for longer than a day, but she also envied her room mate for having such a luxury.

It was downy... And as one who has envy problems and is stuck in a landscape filled with goodies, she was bound to take it.

The glowing eyes were waiting for Chelsea when she left the building with her large burden. She stared at them for a while, and then chose to continue walking.

As in, RIGHT THEN.

The place was TOO CREEPY.

Some time later along the cracked path, Chelsea encountered a huge cluster of blue flowers, and did what anyone would, having never seen such a beautiful flower before.

She picked it.

She ran her finger along a petal, and looked at the center curiously. The flower was intricate, elegant, and reminded her of a Tiger Lily... Except better.. It's pollen stalks curled around, and ended in blue spheres. Two layers of petals made it look like a crown. She took a deep sniff, and found the scent very pleasing.

But she was very practical, and had no need for a blossom... Or the distraction that one could cause.

She tossed the flower aside, and continued walking through the rest that were sticking out through the pavement, which was more gravel than pavement now.

She walked.

Her heart beat grew faster.

She kept walking, leaving the patch of flowers.

Her breathing came faster.

...She kept walking.

She itched and grew fatigued.

...Her face twisted in concentration as she put one foot out in front of the other.

Blue spots of varying size faded into her skin as her temperature increased a little.

She collapsed, but wouldn't give up just yet. She began to crawl.

The itching became a throb, and she began to feel cold.

...Her hands and knees would not support her anymore, but she still tried to continue, dragging herself down the path.

Her symptoms stopped escalating when she suddenly felt very cold and completely worn out, as the throb became prominent enough to screw up her thinking.

She gathered enough strength to pull herself off to the side of the path. Her breath came out loud, short, deep, and rapid as she gripped herself to fight off a cold only she could feel.

She found no strength to move to shelter or to access her backpack's contents.

She was tired, cold, in pain, and very weak. It was a terrifying, helpless state, and there was only one thing she could do.

She began to whimper.

Zecora had appeared that morning in M.S.U. along with a good portion of Everfree's flora and fauna. She was shocked terribly by what she perceived as buildings appearing overnight in the forest, but grew fascinated by the implications of a building's presence.

She watched in the shadows as security guards, upperclassmen and professors evacuated everyone from the campus. As some fell victim to the various venom, poisons, and afflictions of the forest, she snuck up to them and administered the proper medication. She was surprised that the beings were so poorly educated in healing ailments, but so intelligent in caring for wounds.

The beings left quickly, with little in the way of hindrances to their escape.

In the process of trying to pinpoint her hut, she caught sight of Chelsea walking down the broken road alone and quite vulnerable.

Zecora stayed back and observed her, curious why the being would wander in the forest alone. She didn't question her, as she and her ancestors learned their art through observing and carefully recording.

She observed quietly, taking note of her adrenaline induced strength (It was a weak door that Chelsea smashed through, already worn out from slamming, and one of the few doors that did not get replaced at a ridiculously frequent rate. Give her credit though. Not many can smash through a door in any situation!), observing the path she took around the forest, and noting her behavior.

...She took in hand a Poison Joke! How does it affect her folk? Zecora put a hoof outside the shadows, not ready, but willing to heal her when it took effect... Poison Joke was unpleasant for anyone.

She didn't see a prank, but something she wouldn't have anticipated.

Chelsea began to breathe heavily.

Then she started staggering.

Then she fell and had to crawl.

Then her limbs collapsed, and she had to drag herself.

Then she finally dragged herself off the path and clutched herself, breathing heavily, shivering, and whimpering.

Zecora wasted no time. She ran to Chelsea and threw her cloak over her to keep back the fever symptoms. It was somewhat insufficient, being only half the human's size.

She looked Chelsea strait in the face, and spoke with the practiced calm of any doctor. "Your moaning has set me alert. Tell me now: How are you hurt?"

The little zebra was the least of Chelsea's concerns, although on any other day, it would have scared her quite badly.

Chelsea spoke between gasps for air and shivers. "It-t-t-t all hurts a-a-and I-I'm so c-c-c-cold a-a-a-and I c-c-c-c-can't b-b-breathe and-d-d-d I-I-I'm s-s-o t-tired!" She gave out a shuddering gasp. "w-w-what-t hap-p-pened?"

Zecora picked a bean pod from a nearby plant and presented the beans in it to Chelsea. "Consume these: Your pain will ease."

She reluctantly swallowed the beans, and found herself very numb. The small zebra pointed out one of the many spots on her hand.

"This is the mark of Poison Joke: It is not good for any folk, But on your kind, the effects seem stronger. I cannot afford to wait any longer."

She noticed the backpack strapped on Chelsea's shoulders. "Within this pack: Did you bring any greater covering?" she asked, pointing a hoof. Chelsea found herself unable to talk due to another sudden lack of breath, so she opted to simply nod. Zecora quickly figured out the zipper and tucked her in the blanket.

"I'm off to seek your treatment. To your affliction, do not relent." Zecora stared Chelsea in the eyes with all seriousness. Like any doctor, she knew that a patient who's willing to survive has a greater chance of doing so.

"h-h-how could-d-d t-t-t-this k-k-kill me?"

"You must trust me, or you will soon see."

The zebra ran off into the woods as fast as she could for the essential ingredients to the cure.

At the same time...

"Good GRACIOUS! How much does a saddlebag cost?"

Twilight and I were browsing ebay to find supplies for... whatever reason the old man needed us to. We had already ordered shelf-stable foods from a different supplier, and were working our way to items for carrying them.

Twilight knew about human currency because I had helped create a small browser script that would translate cents into bits (A simple right-click system that would take highlighted numbers and do the proper calculations).

I knew about pony currency because we spent a good two hours determining their approximate value.

A lot of debate, and many comparisons of cherry prices revealed that one bit is approximately equal to five cents. the asking price for this small saddlebag was $109.99.

2,200 bits is a lot of money.

"I told you: You probably should just make saddlebags for yourselves." I said.

"There must be a cheaper price somewhere!" Twilight's eyes flew around the screen as she spun the scroll wheel of my mouse rapidly.

"Oh! this set's 200 bits!"

"That's on auction. If you start bidding low, it'll get expensive fast. ...And I can't really afford to have you bid high."

"...'Saddlebag for your dog'? That doesn't even seem useful- OH COME ON! It's 2,500 bits! This website's terrible! You can't even haggle on the price!"

"You can't haggle in normal stores either."

"Okay! Fine! How much does cloth cost?" Twilight yelled in disgust.

Unfortunately, Louis was blissfully unaware of Chelsea's situation.

Chelsea laid there, shivering, gasping, and sweating from the fever. Her eyes darted around in paranoia, finding that she desperately sought the company of the zebra.

Her sweat did not ever seem to stop, and she began to feel thirsty. Her tongue went dry.

The corners of her eyes started going dark as she desperately gulped in air. She began to feel sleepy.

Her gasps grew even bigger as she grew aware that she was fighting for her life. She forced her brain to work by taking in and memorizing the surroundings, regardless of the fact that the jungle's fauna was not recognizable to her.

The throb came back quite some time later. The return of this pain forced her awake and back to whimpering, but the new awareness of the situation sent terrified tears streaming down her face.

She continued to wait.

30 minutes later, Chelsea's condition had worsened.

She was completely dried out, and her body demanded water... which she could not gain on her own.

Her eyes didn't register anything, as they had completely blackened out.

She didn't stop breathing deep, and that was saving her life: Her oxygen deprivation was slowed down enough to avoid a stroke, although her condition was approaching it steadily.

As she desperately clung to hope and consciousness, Zecora came running up to her full tilt, then dumped the contents of a small wooden bowl on her head.

Her symptoms completely ceased as she shot up, taking huge breaths.

She reveled in the sensation of strength.

"Water..." She rasped out. Zecora had thought ahead and gave Chelsea a jug.

She drained the large container of liquid quickly, pondering it's odd contents afterwards. The liquid was very cold, sweet, and seemed to tingle on her tongue. She felt completely refreshed, whatever it was.

"I'm glad my cure worked, and has got you up and perked." Zecora smiled with relief.

"What's in this stuff?"

"It's contents you cannot find, except in heart and within mind. It is a series of verse, made real through discourse. If you let me demonstrate, your curiosity I shall placate."

Zecora took the jug from her hands and placed it on the ground. She began to sing a pretty song in her native language, and two silky streams weaved their way from her head and chest into the jug. Once she was finished singing, the jug was filled to the lip with silvery sparkling liquid.

She corked the jug and slipped it in her satchel.

"...Can you teach me that?"

Zecora chuckled. "If you give me the time, I shall teach you the rhyme... But currently, I have shame, for I don't yet know your name."

"...Chelsea Belrose. And you are...?"

"Zecora, I am named. For my potion work, I am famed."

"I figured as much, since you did save me. ...Do you know this forest well?"

"I know this forest like the back of my hoof. Surely, my cures are certainly proof?"

Chelsea packed the blanket up in her backpack, and stood up. The cuts made her wince slightly, but they had all scabbed over by some miracle. "Great. Awesome. Do you think you could lead me to the edge of the forest?"

The zebra got up from her sitting position and gave her a comforting grin. "Of this, I am sure, as of the black in my fur."

The two took a couple paces, when zecora stopped, having remembered something. "Before we continue, are you sick anymore?"

Chelsea made the foolish decision to keep walking. ...We all have our stupid moments from time to time.

"I wish for an answer-"

"-but aren't we-"

"-of this, I implore!" Zecora gripped her arm in her hooves, a look of worry written on her face.

"It's fine! I'm okay! I've just got a little bit of- *COUGH*" Chelsea gripped her chest, and pulled out a piece of sharp glass.

"...I might need to lay down for a while..." She said after staring at the piece of glass and the wound it caused.

Then she fainted.

The evil bag sat in the inconspicuous clearing in the woods, breathing in absolutely massive quantities of Thaumic energy from the dimensional divide.

...Not even the wizard knew that the bag itself wasn't evil, but rather it's content.

...Within the bowels of the brown cloth bag, it gained awareness.

...It gained a sense of purpose.

...It gained huge amounts of intelligence...

...Finally, it gained thought equally as powerful as it's intelligence.

It observed, and took in it's surroundings, not using eyes, but from which it was born: Thaumic energy.

The energy weaved and twisted around the clearing, taking exact note of it's position.

With impossible understanding, it comprehended it's situation quickly.

...It gave out it's first thoughts.

I have a certainty: I must strike to distract, Then work while away from attention.

... But my planed distraction cannot work unless I strike from multiple points...

...Striking from one point will pinpoint it quickly.

The invisible Thaumic energy sifted further outside the clearing.

I have a certainty: I require a physical vessel to work with.

A Thaumic tendril pinged on 6 small ponies, one small zebra, and a human who was hiding something.

...I cannot conceivably take any one of these as my vessel... They would all suspect and be wary... The human could even try to kill me...

The tendrils retracted into the bag, which now looked unnaturally full.

... My vessel must come from somepony else in Equestria...

... Somepony inexperienced or unwise to the ways of magic...

... Somepony who could grow to be powerful...

... Somepony who could be tricked to work to my benefit.

It let out an evil, but by no means stupid laugh...

I have a certainty: The colt named Starry Lanes must be under my grasp.

If anyone could hear, they'd hear It laughing from two miles out...

...But It was four miles away from civilization, and equally far from anyone civilized... And it knew this.

...It shot a pulse of Thaumic energy into the dimensional divide, ripping another pony sized hole, like it had torn out several times before. It snaked It's invisible Thaumic tendrils across the Michigan landscape, seeking the pony that fell out, readying to guide Starry Lanes to It's position.

As the mass of Thaumic tendrils very slowly scanned the landscape, they left a one mile radius around the locations of the ponies, the wizard, and the former Michigan State University.

Civilization everywhere grew uneasy for inexplicable reasons.

Somewhere in an undisclosed location, the writer pauses, wondering if he's writing doom upon all life as he knows it.

He shrugged, and simply drew this.