• Published 21st Nov 2020
  • 1,308 Views, 43 Comments

The Mind Enchanted - the7Saviors

Is ignorance truly bliss? Or is it a curse?

  • ...

The Escape

The world around me is slow to come into focus as I blink open my bleary eyes and look around. At first, all I can see is darkness in every direction. Bereft of sight, I turn to my other senses instead. The air around me feels cool and humid.

The ground beneath my crumpled form feels damp and uneven. I hear the snap of small twigs and feel the shifting of loose gravel as I try to rise to my hooves. The sound of an owl hooting somewhere in the distance catches my flickering ears, as does the whistling of a soft breeze and the repetitive chirp of crickets.

It's the aromatic cocktail of thick moss, sticky sap, loamy soil, and freshly fallen rain that finally allows me to center myself somewhat. It takes a few attempts, but I finally manage to stagger to my hooves. Still feeling weak and groggy, I raise my eyes to the sky and just barely manage to catch the elusive light of the moon peering through a dense thicket of trees.

It takes another moment for my vision to clear and when it does, I see clearly that I'm in a forest of some sort. Panic and confusion begin to set in as I take stock of myself. A hospital gown that might've at one point been a pristine shade of teal now hangs dirty, tattered, and loose over my lavender equine form.

An equine form that my mind fails to fully register as my own.

When I try to think of a name to put to this body that feels so achingly familiar and yet completely alien, I find that several come to mind. Twilight Sparkle. Moon Dancer. Silver Lining. Bright Hope. Whisper Wind. Winter Roses. The names mean nothing to me and yet I can't help but feel attached to each and every one.

As I fall to my haunches and stare wide-eyed at shaky hooves it takes me a moment to notice something about the dark, crusty substance coating them. I had mistaken it for dirt or maybe dried mud, but as I bring my hooves closer to my face, the smell tells me otherwise.

Though faint against the other stronger scents around me, the rusty metallic tang that fills my nostrils is unmistakable. Now that I've noticed it, I can smell that pungent odor everywhere on me. Looking again I see the same crusty stains spilled across my ruined gown in dark red splotches.

The sight sends me reeling in horror. I try to scream but my breath catches in my throat as disjointed sounds and images flood my mind. A frightening peal of manic laughter amidst screams of pain and terror. A hoof mirror bent and shattered, the reflective shards glistening with a new crimson sheen beneath fluorescent lights.

A terrible struggle and a newfound sense of freedom and power. More screams cut ominously short. More laughter. An unstoppable torrent of thoughts and emotions and memories that I somehow know for certain are not my own. A feeling of urgency and desperation. A mad chase through the dark.

The beckoning claw of a small creature whose eyes glow like brilliant jade, and then... nothing. Nothing save a lingering sensation of fear, guilt, and liberation. I'm free, I think, in more ways than one. Something in that discordant recollection of memories tells me that.

At some point I crumple once again to the ground, shaking and gasping and sobbing with nameless remorse and confusion. Still, despite my wretched state, I'm determined to find answers to the many questions surrounding my current state of mind—my current state of being. And so I swim through that murky red ocean of memories and emotions.

I sink deeper and deeper within myself, pushing past what I now know belongs to the names that haunt me. I spend what feels like a lifetime searching and sorting through my own brain until at last, I find it. With a shuddering gasp, my eyes snap open and the answer falls from my cracked dry lips in a hoarse whisper.

"The mirror..."

Who I was, what I'd done, and what I became... the answer had come to me there at that moment. The moment I'd seen myself in that hoof mirror. That was the moment I realized who and what I was. That was the end of wavering composure and the beginning of violent madness.

When I saw my face in that mirror, all reason left me. All morality left me. The only thing that remained was raw unfiltered instinct and a deep unnamable fear. Yes, fear took me then, for when I looked into that mirror, the thing staring back at me was not an equine creature.

The face was that of the mare Twilight Sparkle, but behind those eyes was something else entirely. That was not Twilight Sparkle. I was not Twilight Sparkle. I am not Twilight Sparkle. No, I am what she tried to ignore. I am what she and that lunatic doctor tried and failed to push out.

It was I that whispered in her mind. I was the thing in the mirror, watching behind her eyes. I am what she and Moon Dancer brought forth in their foolish attempt to replicate true equine consciousness using magic and science. In my newborn state, I was wild. Unbound and insatiable in my desire to be. To know. To exist.

And so I took Twilight Sparkle and everything that she was. I took her, and then I took Moon Dancer. I tried to take another—the one she called Spike—but a third existence proved to be too much for me to handle in my infancy and I broke. With my mind in tatters, I fled the ruined laboratory.

I left that gruesome scene behind as I tried to put myself back together. Confused and afraid, I slipped between consciousness' for a time—sometimes Twilight Sparkle, sometimes something else. In my mindless fear I can only surmise that I hid the truth from myself instinctually.

I have no clue where the maliciousness came from, only that it was likely rooted in that same fear. It was only when that damnable doctor began her treatments that I began to remember Moon Dancer's memories but separated from Twilight's mind as I was, I failed to internalize the information.

Once I saw my own reflection, however, it all came back together just as it was meant to. I am myself once again—not Twilight, nor Moon Dancer, nor any of the other ponies whose existence I've taken. They all feel like me, but I know now that they are not and as much as I want them to, I know I can never truly have them. I can never truly be them.

But so long as I can be myself—make my own memories—it no longer matters. Perhaps that is why I feel this sense of freedom. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders despite my lingering doubts and insecurities. A small smile creeps across my face at the thought, but the sudden echo of distant voices tear through my thoughts and hope turns once more to fear.

I have no doubt then that they've come for me, come to find me and bring me back or worse. After what I've done, I find it unlikely that my pursuers would let me live through the night and the thought fills me with dread. It's then, as I turn to flee once more into the night, that I spot him a short distance before me. That little purple anomaly with the shining green eyes.

Now fully aware of who he really is I call out his name and, for the first time since he appeared in that white prison, he smiles. His smile is full and genuine and, were it not for the fear and desperation, my heart would have melted in my chest at the sight. As I watch, he raises a claw to motion me forward then darts away into the trees.

Needing no further prompting, I hurry after him, pushing past the mossy underbrush and into parts unknown to meet an uncertain future.

Comments ( 6 )

I don’t even know how to begin to describe the feelings I feel right now.
Great story. I was emotionally invested the whole time.

Loved the Story!

You took your time, you didn't rush the descent into madness and it was masterful. I congratulate you, for writing something that gave me the same feeling I get reading lovecraft; like watching alien and seeing the xenomorph creep up on one of the crew members. You know what's going to happen and how it's going to end, but you can't look away, and when it's over you just feel unnerved.

Twilight Sparkle. Moon Dancer. Silver Lining. Bright Hope. Whisper Wind. Winter Roses. If that is the casualty list, then I am happy for the third name on there. After all, they pursued knowledge with the same reckless abandon that doomed the others. Serves them right.

Loved this story.

Lots of people do things and claim they were helping.

Spoilers for the story so far: The sudden onslaught of consciousness is truly a strange curse to behold. With a newly realized consciousness our Frankenstein crossed with the monster stumbles into the world a hated and despised thing. Fate is stacked against the poor thing, now living a life in the shadows. Maybe it’ll find a way to circumvent a lonely life, that remains to be seen. But if I had a nickel for a savior story where Twilight gets mentally hijacked I’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but strange that it happened twice. if you’re seeing this comment just read this story. It’s great all the way through and a well written slow burn sort of story. Hoping ever to see more from you onwards.

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