Throne of the Rot Queen

by Mystic Mind

Chapter 5

No matter how long and winding the tunnels were, Gilda took solace that there were no more forks or dead ends. The noise died down too, sounding like a vaguely disembodied laughter once again.

These were just small reprieves, but after everything she went through tonight, she wasn’t about to look a gift dragon in the mouth. Her feet were burning from the constant walking, and her head throbbed like no tomorrow. Once she got out of here, she swore she would never give into curiosity-fuelled exploration again.

Gwendoline, by contrast, didn’t seem bothered. Gilda was no fitness expert, though she was still surprised by the sheer lack of complaints coming from the little chub. Any other kid her age would’ve asked for a piggy-back ride by now, but she just kept walking, effortlessly keeping pace.

This, however, wasn’t one of tonight’s mysteries Gilda wanted to question.

She’d lost track of time when she finally spotted a light at the end of the tunnel. At last, her creepy ordeal would be over. She’d return a hero, but more than that, a model griffon for their new society.

“Just a little further, kid,” she said, pointing toward the light. “Then we’ll be home free.”

Gwendoline smiled, but didn’t say a word. Whatever, Gilda thought. So long as she gets out alive, she’ll learn her lesson.

With bated breath, Gilda marched up the last few metres to the tunnel’s threshold.

The sight made her jaw drop.

She’d left the tunnel, but not at ground level. Instead, she had come to a long bridge, bathed in the trickling rays of sunlight and spanning the Abysmal Abyss. At the other end, yet another tunnel beckoned her with its darkness.

No, no, no! Gilda’s mind reeled. Don’t you dare take this away from me! I swear to Celestia, I will tear every damn brick from this goddess-forsaken crypt if it means getting me out!

A strong gust of freezing air rushed past her, her thick coat of feathers doing little to protect her from it. She had to dig her talons into the stone just to keep herself steady.

Downdrafts like these were a feature of the Abysmal Abyss. Few creatures had successfully scaled its walls and lived to tell the tale, much less fly up from it.

But there was a first for everything, and right now, Gilda was more than desperate enough to try.

“Alright, Gwendoline,” she said, turning around. “I need you to trust me from this poi–”

Gilda’s blood ran cold. Gwendoline wasn’t there.

She couldn’t have been blown over the edge. She just couldn’t have. But where else could she have gone?

The sound of clopping hooves answered her questions. Turning back, Gilda saw Gwendoline ahead of her, charging head first into the dark tunnel beyond.

Shit! What was she supposed to do now? As much as she wanted – no, needed – to escape, she couldn’t just let the child she’d rescued leave without her. Even if no one would know about it, the guilt she’d carry would tear her insides to shreds.

Gritting her beak, Gilda threw herself into a gallop, chasing after the chub as fast as her legs could carry her. “Wait up, Gwendoline!”

Once more, she plunged herself into darkness, only to emerge back where she started.

Screeching to a halt, she looked back the way she came. Had she somehow gotten turned around in the darkness? She barely had time to blink before she’d emerged back into the light. Now that she thought about it, she’d assumed she was in daylight, but what if it wasn’t? What if it was more of the glowing moss?

A child’s giggle snapped her back to attention. Gwendoline. Now Gilda was certain. Everything had been some elaborate prank. Well, no more. It was time to end this. She was going to grab that stupid brat and drag her out of here, no matter how long it took.

Around and around she went, throwing herself headlong into the tunnel with no care for where she ended up. Gwendoline would be stuck in the same trap as she was. She’d catch up to her eventually.

It was around her tenth rotation that Gilda noticed how her environment had changed. There wasn’t just one bridge, but many, both above and below her as far as the eye could see. She was no closer to the surface, and yet somehow she’d gone up several feet.

“That does it!” Gilda stamped her feet, yelling loud enough for her voice to echo. “I’m done playing games. Gwendoline, if you’re not out here by the count of ten, I’m leaving you behind. Do you hear me?! One…” she spread her wings to their maximum span, bending her knees in preparation for launch. But the second she looked up, any further counting died in her throat.

She saw herself, standing upside down on the bridge above her. And the one beyond that. And the one beyond that. It was like a hall of mirrors, stretching on in an infinite regress, each more distorted than the last. Many bridges gave way to staircases, connected by towering stone arches constructed at impossible angles.

The reflection above her met her gaze, then the next, then the next after that, staring down at her with a lifeless, wide-eyed glare. Some were chimeric, swapping body parts for those of other creatures, while others looked misshapen and broken.

More than that, they all shared the same lifeless expression, glaring at her with pupil-less eyes as their slack-beaked jaws hung open.

Gilda felt her heart thumping in her chest. Every instinct told her to run, but her muscles wouldn’t respond. She couldn’t blink, couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything beyond staring at the segmented doll-like parodies of her.

Then they screamed. It was an ear-piercing, glass-shattering screech, all pointing their claws accusingly at Gilda. It was all she could do to throw her talons over her ears, desperately trying to drown out the noise with her own humming. Sweat soaked her feathers and fur as she began to shake uncontrollably, dropping to the ground and curling up in the foetal position.

She still couldn’t look away from the copies. It felt like her eyes were fixed open, forcing her to watch as her reflections began to decay. Feathers fell out, skin melted off the bones, guts bloated and rotted.

“Such is the way of all things, my eternal dreamers…” the voice returned, no louder than a hushed whisper. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, flesh to rot, rot to bones.”

“Gilda!”

Gilda’s head snapped around, revealing to her the one sight in all of Griffonstone she’d hoped never to see.

“Gilda, help me, please!” Gwendoline reached out for her, clawing at the stone beneath her as the rotting, zombified Gilda clones dug their bacteria-tinted talons into her hide. “No, please, I don’t want to die! I’m sorry! Please, Gilda, help me!”

Gilda tried to get up, tried to crawl, tried to move in any capacity to help the little griffon whom she had dedicated herself to protect. She rose to her feet, fighting tooth and talon to get herself moving. Yet no matter how she pushed herself, she never got any closer. It was as if the ground was stretching beneath her, keeping the chub forever out of reach.

“Destiny. Inevitable. Born to die, like all the rest.”

Gilda’s ghoulish reflections drew blood. It was a small gash at first, but enough to whip her predators into a frenzy. One after the other, they clawed, bit and pecked at her, ripping off large chunks and pulling limbs from sockets. Gwendoline screamed, her eyes rolling back into her head as her face drained of colour. The undead were all over her now, tearing her limb from limb and consuming her flesh.

“This isn’t real!” Gilda screamed, willing with all her might to close her eyes and look away. “This has to be a dream. Wake up, Gilda. Wake up!”

She could not.

She wanted to be sick. Looking down at her talons, she found they were covered in blood, scraps of skin skewered at the end of each finger. “No!” She screamed. “This isn’t real. It can’t be real. I didn’t touch her. I tried to save her, I tried…”

“BE STILL!!!”

At once, the rotting ghouls vanished, replaced instead by the stern visage of Princess Luna. In that moment, GIlda could have kissed her hooves. Of course! It was all just a terrible dream. Her earlier awakening had been false, and all she needed now was for the Princess of the Night to comfort her and snap her out of it.

“Oh, Princess Luna,” Gilda said, her voice ragged. “Thank goodness you’re here. I can’t take much more of this stupid dream. I figure I’ve got a lesson to learn from all this, right?”

“SILENCE!” Luna boomed, still using the royal Canterlot voice. “BEGONE, FOUL DAEMON! WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM, YOU SHALL PLAGUE THESE CREATURES’ MINDS NO MORE!”

“See what they think of you? They see what you are. Accept the inevitable.”

No, that was impossible. Gilda had done nothing wrong. She’d been a jerk, for sure, but not a daemon.

“What are you talking about, Princess Luna? I’m not the–”

“I SAID SILENCE!” Luna sparked her horn to life, grabbing Gilda in her aura and lifting her up to her feet. Luna’s eyes glowed white, her face twisted in a ferocious sneer. “I CAST YE BACK TO THE SHADOWS FROM WHICH YE SPAWNED! BEGONE FROM THESE LANDS AND NEVER RETURN!”

Binding Gilda’s wings, Luna raised her high above her head and threw her over the edge of the bridge, sending her plummeting down into the depths of the Abysmal Abyss.