Myselves

by Trick Question

Sniped

I'm in the Everfree. It's very cold, but I'm wearing a warm winter coat and snowshoes. It's almost Sunset, so I can't stay long. Long shadows cast by the trees around me make everything look confusing and unfamiliar, especially with snow that comes all the way up to my ankles. I'm staying very close to the main path to be safe.

"There it is!", I whisper to myself, but this time it's not something I have any control over. To be honest, I'm not sure anything has been under my control. Both of me have felt a loss of... what does Twilight call it... agency, I think? It's been like that since I entered my house, but it's stronger here. This must be the me in the memory doing her own thing.

There are a few too many me's here, we think to myself.

I shake off that train of thought and look carefully at what I said I was seeing, and now I can see it too. "I'm right," I agree, and just to make sure I understand I found it, I point to a furry white patch blending in with the snow. Did that happen in the memory? I'm not sure. Anyway, the thing we're pointing at looks almost like a trap door on the surface of the snow, except it's made out of pure white fur. It's impossible to see unless you're looking right at it, so I must have really lucked out when I spotted it. "An actual winterchilla! I can't believe I found one!" I'm super excited, except I have a bad feeling at the same time. The bad feeling isn't part of the memory.

It's a very bad feeling. "I'm wrong... That's not a winterchilla, it's a snow snipe, and they're really dangerous!" I tell myself. "I need to stay away from that!"

"That's what it is? I don't know that right now, so I guess I have to grab it anyway. I think we want to impress Apple Bloom for some reason. It just looks like a little patch of fur. It can't see me, can it?" I ask me.

"Snipes sense shapes through sound and heat, and they always travel in pairs so they can react to anything threatening one of them. There must be another one nearby, and it's probably behind her—I mean, behind us, right now, here in the memory!"

I'm starting to feel like that tiny patch of fur might just be the tip of the iceberg, and I'm suddenly standing in the shade. The fur hasn't moved at all, but something behind me is casting a shadow. "Um, m-me, how b-big are snipes, exactly?" I whimper. "Oh colt."

"Nope nope nope nope nope. This is going to hurt us really bad, and we can't get away from it because it happens... because it happened this way, and it always happens this way, because that's just what happens. We hate this, me! We really, really hate this. We have to... we have to do something before we remember doing something dumb. I don't know how—"

I instinctively know I'm right, and as I babble to myself I can feel my muscles tensing even though they're clearly relaxed in the memory. I can feel both things at the same time and it's difficult to tell which is which. Before I can agree with myself out loud or try to stop myself, it strikes.

I feel an intense, searing pain stab the right side of my head. It's back far enough that I can't see what hits me, but I figure that's probably for the best.

The pain consumes all my attention, but even though it's completely overwhelming, it takes a long moment for the horrid feeling to register—not just with me, but with any of us. Pain this bad is a new experience I remember having, as I'm having it, right now. My brain needs to learn that something this extreme is actually pain. Pain this bad exists, I'm realizing. I'm underwater in an ocean of it and I'm about to take in a big lungful.

"Horse apples." That's all I have time to think as it sets in.

Despite the brief delay, my brain knows what to do before any of the rest of us do. I shock myself as I scream louder than I ever have in my life. It's so loud it hurts my own ears. I fall to the snowy ground, somehow having enough sense to pivot onto my back so the snow doesn't get in my face (must have been my past me's subconscious), and now I'm not sure where I am or why anything should hurt this bad.

I don't see anything, because my eyes are clenched shut. I know I should open them because I'm in danger, but I can't. "It hurts it hurts it hurts! Oh holy Celestia, it hurts so bucking much!" we all say, except it just comes out as more shrill screaming.

"Not this again, it's too much," I gasp. My voice is already horse from all the screaming. I must be misremembering what I just said, because it seems to come out of my memory's me-mouth, which doesn't make sense.

I don't think I can blame myself for being confused at this point.

I'm relieved—a tiny bit—as I hear hooves galloping through the snow toward me. Somepony is coming to save me, but it's not quick enough because I am in Tartarus.

"Figuratively, not literally," I say. Being pedantic again was an attempt at distraction from the pain. It did not work.

"We have to get out of here, please! I don't want to wait! Help me! Me, help!"

I try, but I can't control our body! The memory is too intense, and I'm paralyzed with an awful mix of suffering and fear. "I, I'm trying to, but it hurts so much!" I yelp.

"Go back... go back home... p-please... somepony," I whisper in desperation. My thoughts congeal like tiny rivulets of water percolating as hard as they can (which isn't very) through an unyielding matrix of porous, stone-like agony.

I think it's working, which is good, because it absolutely has to.

The hard ground beneath the snow quickly gets softer, and then...

Comments

[The Iguana Man]

Jinglemas, man. Always finds a way to surprise you and dear lord do I love it for that.

Fascinating little mystery and character piece so far, even if what character it's a piece about is something neither I nor they are sure about right now. Still, it's a brilliant twist on the whole "Two minds, one body" thing, if 'body' is even applicable here...

Okay, I love what you're doing, but it does make it a little hard to figure out the right words to compliment you. Nevertheless, rest assured I am both hooked and grateful for the gift. Thank you.

[mishun]

because it happened this way, and it always happens this way, because that's just what happens.

artworks.peteashton.com/watchmen/images/Watchmen04-28-p6.jpg