Pandemic: Starting Over

by Halira

Chapter 36: Things Down Below

I just happened to be standing close to a window when I caught sight of Lântiān returning with Sapphire perfectly on time. My curiosity was piqued as I saw the two share what looked to be a brief, one-sided conversation as Lântiān took deep breaths. With her back to me, I couldn’t see the filly’s face or hear what was being said, but Sapphire, with her smug face, appeared to be complimenting Lântiān. It was only a brief talk before the pegasus acting as a courier left, sparing only a quick smirk towards me in the window and a wave before she flew off away from the home.

Not wanting to be caught snooping, I went back to watching the foal’s activities, and Lântiān entered the house a minute later alone. I asked her how her session with Sapphire went, and in typical teenager fashion, she told me it went fine, with no further elaborations. That was something that I had dealt with while raising Phobia, and I understood most parents dealt with it as well. I could have pressed her for more details but decided against it. Knowing Lântiān, at least from our few days together, the filly would have been intensely vocal about it if she was disappointed or unhappy about how it went.

I'd ask for more details during dinner. I wanted to encourage dinner conversation, and that seemed to be an excellent starter for discussion.

With Lântiān back, I decided to turn my attention to finding a secure place to work. There were two main options, one of the towers or the basement. Since it was closest to me at the moment, I went to check the basement first.

I walked back out to the entrance area and looked at the painting hanging center between the door leading to the dining area and the door leading down to the basement. Upon closer inspection, it had an engraving at the bottom of the painting, and I stepped forward to read it.

Mister Jonathan Wabash and Misses Maria Wabash Outside The Manor With Their Hunting Dogs, 1889

I frowned in distaste. Old Mister Wabash didn't have a gun on him, which made me wonder if most of the hunting was done by the dogs. That seemed a grisly way for an animal to die, being mauled by dogs—not that being shot by a gun was much better. I had what I assumed was a pony's instinctual disgust for hunting. It was a foolish thing to be disgusted about. Humans were omnivores, which meant that meat was essential, especially in the eighteen-hundreds, but this rich man was more than capable of buying whatever he needed. Instead, he hunted for pure sport, and my instincts revolted at the idea of killing for the sake of fun and showing off manliness.

My old thoughts of filthy humans surfaced, and I immediately forced them back down. I reminded myself I had once been human, and, if I were honest with myself, I shared more in common with them than the average pony, so it was not my place to judge. I needed to be better. I needed to put my old prejudices aside. The foals needed to grow up trusting and respecting humans, something they wouldn't do if I were letting my old trains of thought come to the surface. Regrettably, it was easier to say in my head that my prejudices were wrong than it was to banish them from my heart completely. I shook my head and said a silent prayer of forgiveness for my evil thoughts.

I turned away from the painting and opened the door to the basement. There was a staircase leading straight down into the darkness below. Luckily, there was a standard light switch just inside the door. I flipped it on and frowned as I saw the light only worked for the staircase itself. There must be a separate light in the basement itself.

Taking each step carefully, I descended into the basement, cringing and shivering as I looked up and saw cobwebs. Maybe I could convince Lântiān to help clear them. I could do it with my magic, but if there was anything still living in any of them, they could drop down on me. Just thinking about that made my stomach curdle. I was going to have stern words with Malcomb about his cleaning habits in the basement.

I reached the bottom and saw only a pitch-black void ahead of me that somehow went untouched by the stairway's light.

SLAM!!

I jumped. Damn stupid doors, constantly slamming shut. They were going to give me a heart attack yet. I took a few deep breaths and lit my horn for some light. It cast a faint glow silvery glow across the room (my magic had recently started glowing silver, and I didn't know what to make of that. I knew a unicorn's natural magic color could change, but I wasn't sure what the trigger or meaning was since that wasn't one of my expertise. I knew it wasn't dangerous, though), and I could see many freestanding shelves, a table, and other shapes I couldn't quite make out.

Using my small light source, I searched the edge of the wall near the staircase and found the light switch. I flipped it, and the darkness was forced to retreat to corners and between shelves as a pair of long halogen lights flickered on above everything.

Shelves, lots of shelves. It was like a library of random objects. The table had the kinds of things you would expect a workable to have. It had some clamps, a bandsaw, and what I assumed was a sander. The shelves were harder to say what they contained in full. I saw toolboxes, fishing gear, old canning supplies, holiday decorations, random assorted toys; hanging from the ceiling was a pair of bicycles and a pair of sleds. There was more I couldn't see from my vantage point, but this all looked like the same kinds of things that might be found in a garage or shed back in South Carolina. If I stumbled on a riding lawnmower, I wouldn't be surprised.

I couldn't see the entire room from where I was standing, but guessed it was about forty by forty feet, quite large. The shelves blocked the view of the opposite wall completely. There was something large with a dust cover over it to my right; to my left, it was a blank wall with two small vents set high in the wall. No central AC, other than the wings' AC? Those sure as hell looked like AC vents to me. Maybe one of the wing’s AC directed down here. I felt ill as I saw air blowing cobwebs. I hoped all those webs were long abandoned, and there wasn't anything alive down here.

Then I remembered.

"Ahhhhh! Get it off! Get it off!" I screamed.

Tonya came rushing over to me with a brush in her mouth. With one swipe, she knocked the spider out of my tail and onto the ground. A second later, she pounced and crushed it under her hooves.

I sat down, shaking, and crying. She walked over to me and wrapped her wings around me.

"It's okay. It's gone," she gently said. "I never knew that you were afraid of spiders."

"I… I never was… before, but that… that was a widow… and it was in my tail! How did… how did it get there?"

"You must have picked it up while outside," she replied as she held me tight. "Don't worry. It's dead, and I'll always be here to protect you from the scary spiders."

Except now she couldn't. She was dead. She was dead, and it was my fault.

I walked over to where the dust cover was and removed it. There was surprisingly little dust, despite all the cobwebs. The dust was all higher; the floor and objects around the room had virtually none. With the dust cover removed, I gazed upon a large display case filled with Cabbage Patch Kids dolls. It was quite the collection, at least thirty dolls, all well cared for. They even all had their fake birth certificates sitting in front of them.

Another memory.

"Give it back. You little brat!" my eldest sister screamed.

I gripped the doll closer to myself. "Why? You don't play with it!"

"It's mine," Kristen screamed. "I've had it since I was younger than you! Grandma gave it to me before she died. You have no right to be putting your grubby little hands on it!"

She grabbed the doll, but I didn't let go. She pulled, and I pulled back. The next thing I knew, I heard the rip. Kristen looked at me in horror, then rage.

The next thing I knew, my sister's fist connected to my face, and I was on the ground crying.

"You always ruin everything," she hissed at me.

I didn't know how many years it had been since I last thought of that. It was like a forgotten memory that had come back. My sisters and I were always at each other’s throats. We only drifted further and further apart as we got older. It had been so many years since I had seen them—even longer than my last time seeing my parents. I had attended Kristen's first graduation from college when she got her Bachelor's degree. She was the first person in the family to get a four-year degree. That was the last time I gave either of my sisters any time. There had been no big fight or argument that had pushed us apart; we just didn't give a damn about one another. Ironic, considering how deeply I felt about family. I just didn't include my sisters as part of that.

I'm such a horrible person.

Continuing my inspection of the basement, I walked around the shelves to the far end of the room. There was a large wooden door. I opened it, and it was pitch black inside. There was a light switch just within the door, but it didn't do anything when flipped. I was forced to delight my horn to get a look inside.

It was a small room with some wooden cupboards against one wall and a stairwell twisting in a curve upwards. I could hear the rhythmic beating of the door hitting its frame somewhere up the stairs. This must be the stairway up to the kitchen. There was not much of interest down here otherwise. I closed the door and reminded myself I needed to ensure a padlock went on the door leading down here from the kitchen.

I left the room as it was. One final door was on the left side that I had overlooked earlier. I checked it as well. It was a small room, this one had no light switch, but after lighting my horn as bright as possible, it became clear what this room was, the old furnace room. It still had piles of coal waiting to be shoveled in, even though it must have sat cold for decades at the least.

I closed the furnace room door and did one last glance about. I then grabbed the dust cover and covered the Cabbage Patch dolls again. This place would be adequate for my needs. Someone would need to come to clean the cobwebs out first, but it had plenty of privacy, and working underground was an old habit for me. I still wanted to check out the tower, but I doubted it would have enough space. This would also keep me closer to everyone if I were needed for anything in a hurry.

I made my way back to the staircase, and just as I was about to turn off the light, my ears twitched at a sound. I looked back at the room and frowned.

"Is anyone there? Malcomb? Is that one of you foals?" I called out.

No answer. I was sure I heard someone moving around; it wasn't just the house settling or some random noise made by pipes and vents.

I passed my eyes to the left and right. "If you are one of the foals, I'm not angry, but I don't want you down here. Come on out, and we can go upstairs together."

Still no answer. I scowled. "Malcomb, if you are down here playing some joke, it isn't funny. Come out."

Silence persisted, but I know what I heard. There had to be someone else down here.

I cautiously put up a shield. If it was not one of the foals and not Malcomb, then that meant a trespasser. Trespasser didn't immediately mean dangerous. It could be just some squatter looking for shelter in what they assumed was an abandoned building, caught off guard that it suddenly had become occupied. Malcomb hadn't instilled me with much confidence that he was able to root out every squatter. Sure, he could detect magical signatures, but most humans didn't have detectable magical signatures—not even the majority that had some small amount of magic; it was too weak for any but the deepest probing to find for most.

"If you are homeless and just looking for a place to stay, we can work something out. Wild Growth owns this property, and if you haven't heard, she will happily do all she can to help a person in need."

No answer. I strained my ears. I heard the vents pumping in air, some faint squeaks and groans that old buildings make, and the thumping of doors in the distance. None of these sounds was what I had heard to put me on guard. If someone were breathing heavily, I would hear them from here, but if they were breathing normally, I would need to get closer. If they were hiding, they might be holding their breath—people can only hold their breaths so long.

Receiving no response, I was left with few options. I could call the police to come to check it out. I didn't know if they would come because I said I heard a sound. I could go back upstairs, find Malcomb, and have him search, but if this was a human or an animal, he might not be much good. Animal was another option I hadn't considered till now—a squirrel or raccoon that had made its way in, or perhaps a bird. I had no reason to think whoever or whatever was down here was dangerous, but didn't have any reason to foolishly assume they couldn't be a threat.

I kept my shield up and began walking out to the shelves. Getting closer would let me get a better listen. My shield wasn't particularly strong, even when I was in perfect shape, but it could deflect any initial attack before failing or at least slow it down enough to give me time to react if it came in hard enough to break through my shield right away. There was a specific advantage to being weaker with shields; it gave less feedback to the caster if the shield buckled. Someone with a powerful shield would feel it like a physical blow to the head when it went down due to assault on it, but someone like me would only feel a light tickle. The more magic power, the bigger the snapback. That meant precious milliseconds of recovery time, which gave me an advantage over stronger unicorns in that regard—a small blessing.

I started strolling between the long shelves; there were five of them, creating four narrow paths between them. I started from the left, walking slowly, holding my breath, and straining my ears for any sound.

Nothing caught my eyes as unusual on the shelves here, just old decorations for various holidays—a deflated inflatable snowman, Christmas tree ornaments, an inflatable… something or other for Halloween, a creepy little skull-shaped candy bowl, wreaths for both Christmas and fall. There also wasn't any sound that I could hear, other than my hoovesteps and the thumping of the doors.

I turned the corner and began down the next stretch of aisle between shelves. Each shelf was about fifteen feet long, and I had no problem seeing down each aisle as I entered it, but walking it let me look to see if anyone or anything was hiding on one of the lower shelves. This aisle was mostly tools and such, aside from an open fishing tackle box. Some items were too high for me to see, but I didn't care what was up top. If whatever I was looking for was on top of the shelves, I'd have almost certainly have seen them when standing near the stairwell. The lower shelves were where there was a possible cover.

There was still no sound and no sign of anyone else. Maybe I was just hearing things, but I still wanted to be thorough in my search. This wouldn't take that long, and finding nothing would give me peace of mind.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I turned into the third section. A huge cobweb was about halfway down the passage. I shivered and shakingly used my magic to brush it aside. I stood still for a moment staring down the section, now more concerned with creepy crawlies than creepers. I decided that this section was checked well-enough without me walking down it. I would move onto the next.

After three steps down the next section, my ears twitched again.

Huurruhhhh…

That was definitely not the sound of someone moving or any typical old house sound. What the hell was that? It came from the section I had just skipped. I took a few steps back and looked between the shelves.

"Hello? Anyone there?" I asked, still not releasing my shield.

There was only quiet. I was starting to get pissed off. Someone was messing with me.

My earlier reasons for avoiding the section were forgotten as my temper started to flare. The idea that someone was messing with me in this manner infuriated me. Were they trying to make me jump at supposed ghosts and spooks? I regularly communed with two dead ponies as it was. They picked the wrong pony to pull this crap with because I would be among the last ponies to be afraid of ghosts.

I moved in, looking back and forth among the shelves. This section was toys, lots of toys. If I had to guess, I figured most of these were made sometime in the twenty-teens, a bunch of random electronic junk, some toy cars, some dolls, all things meant for smaller children. I wondered where those kids were now. Statistically speaking, fifty-fifty odds they were young adult earth pony, starting families somewhere out in the rural parts of the state. Perhaps one was a pegasus or a unicorn. I couldn't imagine any kid that lived this kind of life had the mindset to become a night pony, and it was anybody's guess who would turn out as a crystal pony. This was no different than any other abandoned house from this side of the country. They just got up and left, mistakenly believing that none of this mattered anymore. Fools. Western ponies made me sick sometimes with their stupidity.

Not that I was one to condemn them. Pot calling the kettle black. I was a different brand of foolish, but foolish all the same. I was worse; I had been arrogant enough to think I knew the mind of God, and even more arrogant thinking I had been doing his work. These idiots were damn magi compared to me. I hoped that wherever they were, they were living happy lives.

Huurruhhhh…

I whipped my head around. I was halfway down the section and the sound had come from just behind and above me. I looked up and didn't see anything. "Show yourself, now! I'm one of those most skilled mages on the planet. You can't hurt me!"

It was all bluster. I was skilled, one of the most skilled. That didn't mean much when it came to defending myself, but sometimes people presumed just because I knew a lot about magic I could just do whatever I wanted. Always let your enemies think you are more powerful than you are, it buys you time.

No further sound came as I stared up ted upat the spot I had been sure I had been sure that vocalization had come from. I frowned, then grabbed with my magic. A moment later, I was starting at my mysterious trespasser.

It was an Olaf the Snowman doll. I squeezed it in my magic.

Huurruhhhh…

I chuckled to myself with relief. A toy with a dying battery had me ready to try to magically fight. I was glad no one had seen it, I'd never live it down. I put the toy back it's shelf and turned to exit—

—and came face to face with an eight-legged nightmare.

"Ahhhh!"

Author's Note:

Happy New Year, everyone! Let's hope 2021 is a better year for all of us!

Thank Lawra for the art.

Will be moving back to a few updates on Marshmallow Dreams again after this.

Comments

[harts fire]

i just know this is a spider the size of a car.

[Halira]

10608278
perception of spider size may vary

[Lawra]

10608278
Objects at end of snout may be smaller than they appear.

[harts fire]

10608282
yep and i will admit to nothing about the size of bee i saw this summer, but i will say it made a nice large splat.

[Halira]

10608291
chapter art by Lawra added

[harts fire]

10608411

i love it.

[Halira]

10617122
Fixed, it may have happened when going back and editing at some point.

[Skyset]

10608411
It's cute art, but I just noticed something. Is it art from this specific scene, or just in general. If it's specifically for this scene, shouldn't she be yellow? :P

Still great reading, and neat picture ^^

[Halira]

11074576
Whoops, replied to the wrong art. The person who did the art realized they had her the wrong color after the finished it. But we decided to keep it.