SIX walk IN

by KitsuneRisu

5 : For Any Who Passes the Tongue, the Teeth

5 -For Any Who Passes the Tongue, the Teeth

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The study was a large room, made for a singular purpose. Bookshelves lined the walls, even more so than the bedrooms, and a large desk complimenting scrolls and a few gold-filigreed letter-openers and quills bordered one end.

There was no carpet here, but instead, two plush cushions that sat alongside a small round table, upon which were glass tumblers on a silver tray. A pair of snifters accompanied them, along with a decanter half-full of some unidentified amber liquid.

Applejack wasn't about to go poking her nose into it; it didn't interest her, and it would be kind of silly to involve oneself with drinks that had be laid out for an age and a half, no matter what they were.

The globe that Rarity had pointed out earlier sat in the other corner, near the desk, sitting inside a large, circular wooden frame. This one Applejack had messed with. It was always the case in those old spy movies that these sorts of globes had secret compartments inside or something like that, but upon close observation it had turned out to be an actual globe used for the purpose for which it was built.

Swaddled between bookcases was a small fireplace, certainly not as lavish as the one in the foyer, but one that was just as functional. It was as quiet as the grandfather clock that was also present – both had shown signs of not having been used in a very long time. The clock's hands were frozen on 8.19, a random time as it seemed, but long-dead clockwork innards made sure that time was immortalized.

Applejack trailed her eyes from piece to piece, around the room once, the gaps between furniture embellished by paintings that hung on the wall – a boat here, a vista there, a hillside, a castle – generic prints of generic things.

She crossed the only window in the room, which was coated in grime like the rest, under which was placed a half-moon stand that bore a few curious knick knacks – a small hourglass with snakes carved into the stem, a very old book in some foreign language, a weird cylinder with letters printed onto its face, a wooden figurine of an outlandish jungle idol, complete with mask and shaman stick, and an ornate silver dagger, jewels set into the hilt.

Perhaps the house's owner had collected these in the past on strange and exotic travels, but now they lay, under a blanket of sleep, hiding away from the world.

It took a calm eye and focused mind to make this sweep, for despite the room's relaxing atmosphere, Applejack had determined early on that she was stuck in there.

From the very moment she had entered the room, she heard the door slam shut behind her. Dropping all the lanterns and her packs on the ground, she rushed up to it and tried to open it to no avail.

The door was jammed. Despite her efforts in pulling or pushing with the handle turned down, the door would not budge. It didn’t seem to have been locked, either.

It just wouldn't open.

She even gave it a couple of bangs for good measure, calling out for 'anypony', but there was no response.

So from there began Applejack's slow tour around the room, deciding that panicking wasn't going to be helpful in any way in this case.

Perhaps she could find something to help her out.

Perhaps the window, or…

Well, that was strange indeed.

But Applejack didn't gasp, nor did she yell out in shock, or scratch her head in bewilderment.

She simply walked towards what she saw, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

After all, she had felt that there was something funny about the house for quite a while now, and this was just proof if there ever was any.

So, other than surprising her, it simply solidified her position.

After her short jaunt around the room, she had returned back to where she had started from.

And the door was no longer there.

Well, the door was no longer there, but a different set was in place, fitted into the wall as if it had always been there from the start.

In fact, this set of doors was twice the width too, since there were two doors rather than the one, but the room had adjusted to make way. Furniture had silently shuffled into a new formation, pictures had re-hung themselves, and a new frame hammered itself into position.

All in a few seconds, and all without a sound.

Applejack recognized the doors, she thought. They were the main doors to the house.

She tilted her head in contemplation, musing on this.

She didn't have to think far before a click was heard, and the doors swung open slowly, offering freedom to the lone pony.

She came to the conclusion mere milliseconds before she saw it for herself, but what she had expected to see was proven to be the case. Beyond the doors was the garden outside, a little sun-lit path to freedom. It was the offer of escape, or at least, something very much like it.

Applejack snorted.

"Now, y'all ain't even tryin', are ya?" she said out loud, cursing the scene's mistake. It was almost amateurish to get the time of day wrong. Sure, it was tempting, as any calm, pleasant daylight stroll through the forest could be, but really?

It'd take somepony with far less will to immediately succumb to that.

"Go on, git," she said, turning away, as if her words could banish the vision away.

The doors remained open.

A delightful chirping of birdsong and the pleasantries of nature flowed through the portal. Crickets going about their tune, the rushing of water over pebbles in a stream, all these struck Applejack from behind as she was considering the desk on the other side of the room.

She shut her eyes, trying to ignore it.

But all that did were make the images stronger in her head.

If specific times could have a sound, this was one she was most familiar with. She heard this melodic symphony nearly every day back on the farm during sunset, when the insects and birds came out and when it was time to retire by the pond. It was a time when she could kick back and chew some grass in peace and watch as the sun dropped in the horizon, getting redder and redder as the sun's rays passed through the lower atmosphere… those red beams blinding her in her mind's eye.

Her eyes jerked open.

Before she realised, she had turned again, taking one step toward the doorway, which still showed the same image as before.

"You gotta do better than that," she muttered, under her breath, shaking her head and the images away.

Her annoyance made her breathe in a little heavier.

And upon that breath came another vision, another experience, as the scents of fresh grass, carried by the wind, swirled around her and made her remember.

She remembered home. She remembered fields of bright red strawberries and waves of corn. She remembered those plump fresh apples that hung off the branches of her trees, delicious and crimson. She remembered freshly baked pie and the scent of her sister's hair in the morning, and how the barn smelt after rain, a delicious petrichor of hay and dust…

Her eyes opened again, and she was standing, there, right in front of the open doorway, just a nose away from freedom.

She was startled now, at least.

She stumbled back, nearly tripping over herself, holding her mind steady as she tried to figure out what had carried her there.

But what is it that the house wanted? Was this a trap? Was it trying to get her to leave? She shuddered as she realised that the choice might not be hers to make.

"Alright," she said, gritting her teeth, "time to get serious, huh?"

She stood in full view of the landscape outside, the dirt track down the hill, the forests beyond, and planted herself down.

Whatever tricks, she told herself, whatever strange visions that come, keep your eyes open, stand firm, and do not listen. Do not fall victim to this magic of temptation. Do not cross the door.

More visions came.

This time with a wash of sound, smell and feeling, the warmth of the sun falling upon her cheeks. The breeze took the edge of the heat off, and it was all very comforting and relaxing. It almost made her feel like kicking back under a tree and watching as the red-chested robins flew by.

But this time she was ready for a fight. She kept her eyes as wide open as she could, and even as the invasion of thoughts and images pushed themselves into her brain, she kept focused on the doorframe. It was the single object in this room that told her that the images were just like a painting on a canvas, and the doorframe was the frame of the pictures themselves.

Knowing this made it less real than what it felt like.

But even so, she still stepped toward the opening, hoof by hoof, bit by bit. She was drawn to leave, the urges in her head screaming far beyond normal, plying her mind into two.

The part of her brain that was left un-assaulted fought back, crying out in silence for logic and reasoning to take over. And within that did it find the ultimate truth, something for it to latch onto.

She would not leave. She could not. The truth lay embedded in her morals, the ones that her very soul kept tight. She wasn't Rainbow, sure, but she knew about loyalty just as much as her friend did. She knew about faithfulness and belief and trust and all those other things that made her who she was, and by the end of it, she wasn't going to let selfishness take over.

Not to say that it wasn't a struggle.

She felt a tinge of cold on the edge of the threshold, as if a thin fabric had been stretched across the frame. It felt like trying to walk face-first through a gossamer sheet. But rather than cloth, she felt a sweeping chill of wind, casting away the warmth of the sun and burying her under motionlessness.

It looked sunny on the other side, but the doorway led to a place that was cold and dead.

With a final breath she flung herself to the side with all her heart and soul and mind, breaking the illusion for just one final instant before kicking at one of the two doors from behind.

It slammed shut, riling up a bit of dust.

And this was it, the final stretch.

Images still poured through the half-hole, but she had momentum now. She had spirit and fire, and she crawled her way to the other door, grabbing at it with both front legs, yanking; pulling it shut; and with a final resounding click, the invasive thoughts disappeared and were no more.

Applejack gasped, her hat falling from her head as she threw her sweat-soaked body against the doors that had just closed, making sure they wouldn't open again. She breathed heavily through dizzy eyes… she hadn't even noticed what an ordeal it had been until it was all over. She had no idea how much of a strain it was, only now evident from her current condition.

But the room was quiet now, and she dared to close her eyes. She dared to run a hoof over her face and lower her guard. She had beaten… something.

And now she sorta knew how it worked.

It sent images and signs and visions to trick you. It attacked you where you were vulnerable in your head. It focused on your insecurities. After all, to Applejack, home was everything. Family, home, and her life on the farm. If that wasn't alluring then what else could be?

Well, saving her friends had priority of course. Whatever it was that sent the images didn't account for that.

But then she heard yet another noise, something that came from the other side of the door she was leaning against. It was the sound of something wooden being thrown aside; it clattered noisily to the ground where it lay to rest.

Applejack peeled herself off and twirled around to look. The door had returned to normal, as had the rest of the room. It was a single wooden slab once more, the proper exit to the room, and something was turning the handle.

Applejack backed up, scooting to the other end of the room as the door slowly swung open and a familiar pink-maned head poked its way around the corner.

"A…applejack?" Fluttershy asked cautiously, peeking in. "Oh, Applejack! It's you!"

"Fluttershy!" Applejack said, relieved. "Oh, thank goodness you're alright!"

"Yes, I am… I am fine," Fluttershy said, entering the room fully. "What happened here? Why were you running away from me?"

"Runnin' away?" Applejack asked, confused. "What… what do you mean?"

"Well, remember earlier when we were upstairs and you asked me to find Twilight? Well, I did, and I saw you standing at the doorway, but then you suddenly left. And after I found Rarity and Rainbow Dash too, I saw you running down the stairs, so I followed you into this room."

"Well… that just ain't possible, sugar," Applejack said. "I've been stuck in here ever since we split up."

"In here?"

"Yeah. Right after you'd left the room upstairs, I got my stuff together and packed up all the lanterns and headed out. I figured you'd went down already so I took the stairs that headed past this room, right?"

Fluttershy nodded.

"Well, just as I was passin' this room, I hear a noise from inside. So I come to check it out, since Pinkie was supposed to be in here and all that, but when I entered this room there weren't nopony here!"

Fluttershy continued her vapid stare.

"Well, I mean, to be fair, it was all dark and everything, and the lanterns were inside my bags, so I set it down in the middle of the room to take 'em out, but the door slams shut behind me. So I rush to try to get it open, but it was stuck."

"Stuck…" Fluttershy muttered.

"Yeah, I couldn't open it at all, and I've been… trapped here ever since," Applejack concluded. Maybe now wasn't the best time to tell Fluttershy about that other thing she saw. That could come after they had all left, she figured, where it was relatively safer to panic.

"Oh… well, there was a broomstick stuck through the handle on the other side of the door," Fluttershy said, stepping closer. "I had to remove it before I could come in."

"A what?"

"Yes… someone must have wedged it in there. I'm not sure why, but that's probably why you couldn't get the door open."

"Well then, that oughta have given you a clue as well, shouldn't it?" Applejack said, sitting down for a rest.

"What do you mean?"

"If someone'd put a broomstick through the handle, and I was stuck here, then obviously I weren't the one who you saw earlier now, right?"

"Of… of course, that makes sense." Fluttershy nodded, looking ashamed at her inability to think. "Then who was it that I saw earlier?"

"I don't know, sugar," Applejack said, eyes looking toward the floor. "Probably one of the others."

"Well, I already found Twilight, Rarity and Rainbow."

"Yeah? How are they doin'? They alright?"

"I saved them."

"Saved, huh?" Applejack chuckled. "Strange choice of words. Could that pony you saw have been Pin…"

It took a fraction of a second for Applejack to leap to her hooves, staggering back and stumbling into the half-moon table, knocking over the hourglass.

"Fluttershy, what are you doin'?" Applejack shouted.

Standing where she had been sitting a moment ago was the demure little Pegasus, holding a glinting piece of glass in her wing. It was poised sideways like a scythe ready to reap, and it had only just now unfurled from behind her back. Yellow feathers were flecked and stained with red patches, and it still looked moist around where they grasped the shard.

"I'm saving you," Fluttershy said plainly.

It was only now that Applejack could see Fluttershy's eyes closely. They reflected light from the lanterns unnaturally, as if they had lost their sheen and were as dull as unpolished brass. She had sounded normal as she entered, but she was acting a little bit more than peculiar.

There were strange black flecks across her face, too, like spots of ink, and there were some red and black splotches that ran up her hooves, staining her natural yellow coat. Somehow, she had missed them earlier, perhaps due to her lowered guard. Perhaps something hadn't wanted her to see it.

They seemed to have only just appeared.

The appearance of the glass seemed to have stripped away an overlay that covered Fluttershy. She had looked, to Applejack, exactly how Applejack had expected her to look, and not like how she looked now.

"So what are you doin' with that piece of glass, darling?" Applejack asked, keeping her eyes trained on the figure that was slowly approaching.

"I'm… saving you," Fluttershy repeated, those words the only thing she knew.

Applejack's heart skipped a beat. She felt it, she felt it seizing up inside her as she thought of the only thing that this could possibly mean. But still, she had to ask. She had to confirm her stray thoughts.

"Fluttershy, where's Twilight?" Applejack asked, carefully, pulling herself up at the same time and stepping to the right just as slowly as Fluttershy was moving.

"She's… in the room down the hallway from here."

"And Rarity?"

"In the room upstairs, across the balcony."

"And Rainbow?"

"On the top of the landing, outside the hallway."

"Fluttershy?" Applejack asked, the two of them circling around each other now. Applejack was keeping her due distance, moving around, trying to keep Fluttershy in the middle of the room. If she had any idea what was happening, she didn't seem to show it. All she did was answer questions and walk… walk towards Applejack, glass at the ready. "What did you do to them?"

"I… I saved them, of course."

"What does that mean?" Applejack shouted, losing patience.

"It… it means that…." Fluttershy stopped momentarily, her wing dropping a few inches. "I… I saved them."

"Okay, Fluttershy, listen to me, alright?" Applejack approached the door, keeping it behind her. "Put the glass down."

"But why?" Fluttershy asked.

"Because you don't need it. We'll get out of here together, alright? We'll go find Pinkie and the others, and we'll get out of here, all of us."

There was no time to cry, there was no time to be sad. There was no time to settle on possibilities. Suddenly she was on high alert; the only thing that mattered now was to get out of this room and go find the rest of her friends. Maybe they were okay after all, who knew? There was one way to find out, and clearly, Fluttershy wasn't giving any answers.

Just keep a clear head, Applejack. You beat this once. You can get through this again.

Her hoof flew to the door handle, plunging it down and yanking on it as hard as she could.

"What… what are you doing?" Fluttershy asked, tilting her head.

The door wouldn't budge.

"I… I…" Applejack stammered, staring at the handle within the clasp of her hooves. Wait, when did it get stuck again? Wait, when did the door even close? Fluttershy didn't close it when she came in. Why is it closed now? And why is it stuck again? Her head emptied of any potential answers to Fluttershy's question.

"Here, let me…" Fluttershy invited, skipping toward Applejack, who tumbled out of the way again, landing on her rear to her left.

"Fluttershy, put that thing down!" Applejack yelled, holding a hoof out.

"I… I can't," Fluttershy told her. "I have to save you."

"You are! You can! Alright? You can save me if you wanna, but you don't have to use that thing! You're bleeding, Fluttershy! Doesn't that hurt?"

Fluttershy's eyes darted to her own blood-stained wing.

"Y… yes," she said. "It does."

"Then… then put it down, sugar. Put it down. Alright? None of us needs to feel pain. None of us needs to hurt. Let's get out together, leave this room and we can go find the others and get out of this house. Does that sound alright?"

"It…" Fluttershy began, before falling silent, as if she had to give this a great deal of thought. A frown line appeared on her forehead.

"C'mon now, sugar. Put the glass down." Applejack patted the ground with a hoof. "Put it down now."

"I… I can't." Fluttershy started to advance again.

Applejack shifted back a bit more, scrabbling back up to her hooves.

"Why not?"

"Because I was told to do this."

"By who, sugar?" Applejack swallowed hard, moving around the room again. She felt like a mouse now, being toyed by a lion. A very slow-moving lion who wasn't in a rush to get things done. But all she had was her words.

Perhaps the analogy wasn't that precise. Worst-case scenario, Applejack would have to take Fluttershy down by force. It wouldn't be difficult; this mouse packed a punch.

Maybe she could kick the door down! But… that might make Fluttershy panic, and she wouldn't want that, would she?

Besides, it might take more than one or two kicks to get it open. It swung inward, so she'd have to fight against the frame… could she do it in time before Fluttershy got to her with that shard?

Why does she even have it anyway? What happened out there? What in tarnation happened?

I'm… dizzy.

I'm tired.

I don't want to hurt her. I have to talk her down. I have to convince her to put that shard down.

At least… I have to try.

There was a mix of fear and determination in Applejack's emotions now. Regardless of relative strengths, the Pegasus across the room still had a sharp weapon. Furthermore by her own accounts, she had already 'saved' Rarity, Twilight and Rainbow Dash, three others who should have been able to overpower her easily…

It wouldn't hurt to be on guard.

"You were right, Applejack," Fluttershy said, in response to Applejack's question.

"About?"

"There is something going on here. The others were acting… strangely. At first, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to help. But then, Twilight told me. She told me what to do. She told me how to save everypony else."

"Twilight told you?" Applejack questioned, looking around for anything in the room that could help her. The lanterns she had brought in were leaking into the area, static and frozen, as if they were caught in a photograph.

Applejack edged around once again, finding herself back at the half-circle table.

"Yes, she told me. Well, in a way, I suppose," Fluttershy continued. "She told me how to do what… what was right and what was good. She told me how I could make up for my… my failures."

"Failures? Darlin' there… there ain't no failures here, alright? Listen, you… you've done… done good. Remember? I never thought you failed in the first place," Applejack spat out, her mind racing. Was this what it was all about? "You said Twilight told you what to do, right? Well, now I'm tellin' you the same thing, okay? You can save me, but without having to use that… thing. So put it down."

Fluttershy stepped closer, a strain on her face. She tried to keep smiling, but something behind it was full of pain and vinegar. It was like a young child smiling through the bruises after an incident behind the schoolyard; the kind of smile one wears when they pretend that everything is fine.

"Put it down, Fluttershy. Please."

"I… but…" she stepped forward again, a mere three steps from wing distance.

"Applejack…"

"What, darlin'? What? Tell me. Tell me, Fluttershy."

"Applejack… there's something… something's wrong, Applejack…"

It was then when Applejack saw – Fluttershy's breathing had stiffened, hardened, and clenched into a tight ball of painful rasps, and she shivered in place, her mouth opening and closing in confusion as to what expression it should represent.

But her eyes, her dead, dead eyes, collapsing to pinpoints, stared off into the distance, far away from Applejack, from the room, from the house on the hill.

"Applejack… somethi…ing's wrong… with me…"

"I know, darlin', but it's okay. We can get through this." Applejack huffed a slight sigh of relief. There was a crack. A small, tiny crack in a massive wall, but it was enough. She would dig and dig until she broke through. "You… you say you saved them, right? But I don't think… I don't think it was the right thing to do. I think something's tellin' you that it is, but it ain't, and you know it. You know it, right?"

Fluttershy remained perfectly still for that time, only her minute trembling giving sign that she was alive. Finally, after a while, as if it pained her to do so, she nodded in agreement.

"It's like your mind's tellin' you to do two things, right? One wants you to do this because it says it's right, but the other side is tellin' you that you oughta stop?"

A nod came again, after more silence and more waiting.

"Listen, Fluttershy. You have to fight it, alright? That voice, that voice which is tellin' ya to 'save' us, you gotta fight it. You gotta tell yourself it ain't right, and that's not the truth. I know it's hard, but focus on what's properly good."

Fluttershy didn't respond.

"You gotta… just think, Fluttershy, come on. Just think," Applejack continued. "You gotta think of what you've been doin', Fluttershy. Your mind's tellin' ya to save us but what have you been really doin'? What have you been really really doin'?"

Fluttershy's eyes closed. They slammed shut, almost audible in their ferocity. Her lips curled in as she thought, thought hard about the things that she didn't want to think about, about the things that her mind so easily banished to the far reaches where they could live ignored.

And from there she collapsed, crumpling up into a heap on the ground, her wing gripping the shard even more tightly.

She fell upon herself, swallowing slowly, breathing shallowly.

And when her eyes opened, they nearly looked real again.

"Don't say anythin'," Applejack cut in. Part of her didn't want to hear what Fluttershy had done. Part of her didn't want to know. She knew that it would be too hard to force Fluttershy to say it out loud. "Just… take that feelin', Fluttershy. Take it and I want you to realise somethin'."

There was something cascading inside the Pegasus right now. It was evident, clearly, obviously. The way she moved, and the way she kept focusing and unfocusing on different things… it felt like she had removed herself from the room. She couldn't respond normally any longer, and Applejack didn't expect her to. She could only make educated guesses as to what had happened outside the room, but she didn't think she was far off with her guesses.

Maybe that was why she didn't want Fluttershy to confirm it.

Maybe she wanted to leave and find the rest of them all waiting for her so that they could all get out together and find help.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Fluttershy!" Applejack shouted, shock creeping into her tone. While she had been distracted by thoughts herself, she hadn't noticed that her companion had taken yet another step closer to her, still brandishing her bloody weapon. "Fluttershy. All this… all this is because you were listenin' to that voice in your head that was tellin' you stuff, alright? But I'm here! I'm standin' right in front of you, and I'm tellin' you now, please stop! Please just stop this!"

Again, her pleas were met with more looks of confusion.

But then, a grimace.

A clenching of teeth and a loud exhale.

It was the sign of the fight.

"Come on, Fluttershy," Applejack said, softly. "You can do it. Just listen to me and put the glass down."

Fluttershy lifted her leg to take another step.

Applejack held her ground.

"Put the glass down," she repeated.

She saw a feather twitch, a bloody blade glisten. She saw a wing shudder and fall. She saw it all happen in a few seconds that felt like an hour.

First it lowered, not unclenching, still wrapped around the colourful piece of glass. But then, as it fell, like the unfurling of the wing of a dead bird, it loosened, and rattled, and to the ground dropped the object of Fluttershy's obsession.

It landed on its side, before finally resting flat on the floor, tip still pointed at Applejack, as if to accuse her of its relinquishment.

Fluttershy rushed forward now, suddenly, crying. Applejack couldn't see it for the fact that she now had a face buried beside her own, but the wetness on her shoulder was a strange comfort. It was sign of emotion; sign of life. Almost by instinct she put a leg around her partner, patting her back and comforting her as much as she could.

She couldn't stop Fluttershy's shaking, nor her sobbing, but she allowed herself a breath of relief as Fluttershy pushed her back into the table in a tackle that represented her freedom.

The table with all the knick knacks and gewgaws and…

Applejack's heart skipped once again.

Instantly she pulled away. With the leg around Fluttershy's back she managed to get a good momentum going, and she moved them both sideways into the writing desk, spilling quills and bottles and things everywhere as they both crashed into it.

And not a movement she made, while scrolls and rulers scattered over the desk's surface.

Nor did Fluttershy, save her panicked breathing as she held herself close to Applejack's chest.

Applejack's eyes peered past Fluttershy's pink mane, desperately searching for two things.

The piece of glass on the floor remained, glaring at her with hatred.

And on the table lay knick knacks and gewgaws and…

The dagger.

The dagger remained on the table.

Applejack's eyes rolled around as she started to breathe again. She didn't know what she was so scared of, really. It was just that instant of sudden realisation that set her off. She should have trusted the situation. She shouldn't have had to worry.

But she could take a short break now, sliding up against the desk, with Fluttershy pulled close to her along the other side. In fact, it seemed like Fluttershy had calmed down some herself, evident by the suddenly lack of noises. Maybe the sudden pull shocked her a bit too much.

"Hey, Fluttershy, sorry about that. I just thought I saw somethin'," Applejack explained with a slight chuckle, leaning against her friend.

"No," Fluttershy replied.

"Pardon me?"

"No. I'm the one… who's sorry," Fluttershy said, tears running down the side of her face.

"Aw, that's alright, sugar." Applejack smiled warmly. "It's all over now, alright? So, let's take a minute and then go find the others!"

There came no answer, just a slight rustling of paper from off to Applejack's side as Fluttershy moved in again to give her friend a big, loving hug.

"Fluttershy, it's really okay. I ain't blamin' you for any of this, alright? In fact, I oughta tell you what I saw in this room just now. It was the darndest–"

It started as a needlepoint, like the pricking of a hoof on a splinter or a stray bit of wire.

But it grew magnificently, the pain blooming out in seconds, like a cloud bursting with rain or one of Dash's sonic rainbooms.

Applejack coughed violently, flecks of spittle leaving her mouth and landing in Fluttershy's mane. She stared, trying to focus on Fluttershy's face, but it had ducked to her right, away from sight, and Applejack was left gazing through blurring vision at the wall.

Each cough made the pain worse. Each judder made the tear rip through her like an axe through tree bark.

Applejack's eyes swivelled wildly in her head, but turning her neck was difficult. Those slight muscle pulls made the pain in her back scream.

Out of the corner of her eye, as a bit of saliva trickled down the side of her mouth, she spotted a blur of a leg, raising back, and upward, and then swinging down again as quick as ever.

The hoof struck something… something that, with every swing, moved further into her back inch by inch.

And the pain erupted even more. It dug in deeper, lines of stinging lightning numbing her skin as nerves frayed and overloaded her senses.

She didn't know how deep it was. It had reached a point where sensations weren't quite so clear. In fact, the pain had spread and covered her whole body now. Pains of every kind – from the throbbing to the sharp ones, from the tingly electric ones to the kind that numbs.

Numbing. That was becoming more pronounced. That was starting to overtake the other kinds of pain.

For some reason it didn't seem that bad.

It was seconds ago when she was so fearful, so frightened, so scared of the idea that she might have been stabbed that everything stopped and her mind wrapped itself around that one potential moment, and drove her to avoid at all costs.

But now that she was already here… it felt… strangely serene. It wasn't a time to panic. It wasn't a time to rush about and be all scared. It felt like just something that happened. And oh, it's nearly already over.

She didn't have to turn around to realise that it was the letter opener. A sharp, thin metal thing, like a sword with a pointed tip… really, she'd laugh at the irony if it wasn't so inappropriate. Of course it was the letter opener. Silly of her to forget.

The pain was fading away now, being replaced by the dull thuds of Fluttershy's hoof pounding on things. She'd been at it for a while now. How many times did she need to hit to get it all the way in, anyway? I mean, she was weak, but not that weak, right? Was she trying to bury the entire thing in?

Applejack's mind started thinking of thoughts like these. Thoughts that were far away from the action, thoughts that were one step removed from the reality of the situation. She had always heard that when you're in a dire situation like this one, one only thinks of the things necessary to survive.

She wasn't thinking of anything like that at all. Maybe somehow she knew she didn't need to think of the things necessary to survive. Not any longer.

And it was nearly completely numb now, as ants started to crawl about the surface of her skin. All along her back, across her chest and deep down in the right half of her body – she knew not where – were electric dots of light that sparkled and crackled along the edges, joined slowly thereafter by a heaviness that weighed the area down and cut it off from the rest of her body.

The feeling was gone to the extent that it felt as if someone had removed it entirely, as if a large chunk was missing from her torso.

Another pain, smaller this time, more numb this time, joined the first one on the other side. She didn't know where it came from. Perhaps the nerves had reacted. Perhaps the initial pain had spread. Perhaps something else.

All she knew is that she needed to lie down.

But she was already on the floor. And then, that too, became obvious. Of course she had lain herself down. Of course she had. She had just forgotten.

Forgetting things… so many memories were fading now. What remained in her head were the faces of her family, her darling sister, her loving brother, her granny.

The things that were closest to her. The things that lingered on because they had become part of her.

She remembered the sunshine and how she worked on a farm, someplace, doing something.

She remembered that one time when she was a child and she fell down and scraped her knee, and old Granny Smith was there to kiss it better.

She remembered taking care of her sister when she was young and had nopony else. She hoped to be able to take care of her still.

She remembered her brother who had taken care of her. The one she could always rely on in times of trouble. Was he here now?

She remembered friends and birthdays and parties, and all the fun she had meeting Twilight a few years ago, and how they all found out they shared a special connection.

It was fate, and all that. Maybe this was fate too. Maybe their destinies were connected in more ways than what was already apparent.

She remembered this house, coming here. But she forgot why. She forgot most of what happened. She was beginning to forget why she was lying down. She was beginning to forget why she couldn't feel anything below her neck.

She looked straight on.

Fluttershy was kneeling in front of her, face to face.

Oh right, she remembered Fluttershy, too. That sweet and kind pony. The one who fell out of the sky one day and just decided to stick around because she loved animals so much.

That was the darndest thing, wasn't it?

She stuck around because she loved animals. What a wonderful, wonderful soul. What a sweet creature. And here she was, in front of Applejack, mouth opening and closing. She was trying to say something, but Applejack couldn't hear it.

All she could do was remember, in small flashes, small bits that came and intertwined with the other important things in her life. Pieces and fragments that had Fluttershy in them, the kind one, the loving one, the one who could never hurt a flea, the one who could never do anything wrong.

Had she… was she…?

Wait, what am I even thinking of? There's no way that Fluttershy could have done…

Oh, but…

Wait, Applejack, she's trying to say something. Listen. Pay attention. Pay attention to your friend. It's important.

And through a cloud of fog and echoes and empty caverns did her voice finally match the movements of her lips, and did Applejack finally hear what Fluttershy had been repeating all this while.

I'm sorry.

She said it, robotically, sorry for many things.

Sorry for what?

Sorry?

Just sorry.

Fluttershy was sorry.

Oh that's right.

She… of course she did.

But, it wasn't really her fault, was it? It was this…

Where were they again?

Applejack didn't know how much time had passed since it began. It was getting hard to blink now. Getting tough to breathe. She felt her body fade away and disappear forever. All that was left were her memories, and those too were slowly being swallowed up by the tranquil sea.

Still, there was probably something she should say now.

Something to make it right.

Her lungs burned when she tried to talk. Her breaths now were so shallow that they barely contained enough strength to whisper more than a few words. Some sort of fluid burned in her throat, coming from those organs that should have only held air.

They were filling up slowly.

But still, a few words. Enough to make things right.

Enough to, perhaps, if anything, let her leave in peace.

Because when you have a few words left, a few thoughts left, you spend it on the now.

It was the now that was running out.

It was the now that needed to be addressed.

Applejack's mind had finally focused on that one final thing. She hadn't the faintest idea why she needed to say it, nor the circumstances surrounding it, but something itched badly in her head, something that prodded and poked her, and told her that there was one last thing she needed to tell Fluttershy.

Something that she meant, wholeheartedly, selflessly, because only one of them needed this, and it wasn't herself.

And Applejack, in her final moments of the now, struggled to clear her throat, put on a gentle smile, and whispered:

"Ain't… your fault… 'Shy. I forgi–"

And then.

She was part of forever.

She joined her memories, and went off to run and play with her brother and sister and dear old Granny Smith, and all her friends, in a world where they could laugh and run and grow old together.

And together with her memories, resting upon her final breath, she left.

Fluttershy stood up.

She smiled.

Nodded.

She had tried.

She really did.

But she failed.

And that was what she was sorry about.

The only thing she would ever be sorry about.

But she nodded, her work now complete.

She turned towards the door.

There in the doorway, open to its full width, stood Pinkie, staring straight at the scene.

"Fluttershy?" she asked, mist on her breath.

"What happened?"

End : 5

Comments

[Borg]

Applejack. Having lost her parents at a young age, she had to take on a lot of responsibility very suddenly, and it made her strong. Made her very grounded. By the time her peers were transitioning into adulthood, she was already more mature, and more capable at all the various skills that individually seem so minor, but collectively make up most of the experience that one uses throughout one's adult life, than some ponies ever become.
But in the end, she could not win against the house.

[Still Wearing Black]

Yep, I was right; Applejack died through deception. And holy guacamole, I could never write a stabbing scene with so much depth, intimacy, or detail. You incorporated more than just the physical sensations. I've written a death scene for a robot in my Toonami fanfiction (the dude in my avatar, to be precise), and it's not even a tenth of what you have here.

and all the fun she had meeting Twilight a few years ago

That's exactly what makes the pilot episode hard to appreciate and the mane six hard to love. Most of them don't seem to realize they're meeting two people.

[KitsuneRisu]

3245608
What can I say? I like writing about atmosphere and emotions. They are so often overlooked when people (or ponies) die, and I just wanted to explore the idea of the intimate death. So... no frills. Nothing fancy. It's just her, and her emotions and thoughts stretched out.

Isn't the character in your avatar supposed to be Mare-Do-Well? Toonami is the cartoon channel, right? Correct me if I'm wrong. I actually don't get cable.

And I didn't like the pilot episode either, honestly. I don't dislike the mane 6 myself, but the first episodes didn't make them particularly anything more than just a caricature apiece. I somewhat agree with you, but of course, I also understand that they had to show presentation from a specific POV, and our anchor just happened to be Twilight. Under the circumstances I suppose it was the best they could do.

[ThatClosetBrony]

So, who's the one who's forgotten? Six walk in, but only 5 are reported dead, right?
We would have had AJ the survivor, Shy the New Master, and Pinkie the Mastermind.
Well, it's certainly not AJ now.