It was all so surreal. Being on the ground, limbs sprawled out under her, dizziness making the world spin before her eyes. As the dark tunnel drew away from the corners of her vision, she looked around, feeling like she was under sedation. She was floating in a pool of black... no, she was in a dark room, square and vacant, smoke-like wallpaper surrounding her at all sides, the soft bristles of the carpet below her brushing against her as if they were alive.
Shaking the dizziness from her head, she gained the will to attempt to stand, her knees buckling below her, shaking as if she had a ton's weight on her back. Quaking on her hooves, she squinted and studied the room about her. She didn't miss much at first sight; it was the same old, but she did manage to notice a door to her right, a scrolling pattern carved into it, seeming waxed with age, the bronze doorknob showing a bit of rust.
As her mind started to clear from the sedative fog, she regained self-consciousness, but so slow that the buffer of thoughts started to make her head ache. I'm Pinkie Pie, was the only thing she could think of, staring at the doorknob almost longingly. I'm... I need to get out of here.
Legs shaking underneath her, she wobbled toward the door, her dizziness becoming more intense with each passing step. Her hooves collided with the ground, the muffled but hollow clops being the only indicator of this happening. With each step she took, it felt like the vibrations from the collision were traveling up her legs, instead of the solidity she was used to. Within a long few seconds, she was right in front of the door, a sort of magnetism drawing her near to the bronze knob, all her weight going on her forelegs, though she didn't fall.
But as her mind had awoken even more, she felt a foreboding feeling. She didn't know why, but the gut feeling seemed to tell her to turn back, that she didn't want to meet what was on the other side. But what was on the other side drove her fragile curiosity to the max, and she twisted the knob, the jelly-like feeling coursing through that limb again. Cautiously, she let the door glide away from her hoof, the hinges squeaking slightly, revealing a long, dark hallway.
The warning bells were now ringing ferociously in her mind. You do not want to go there, said a voice in Pinkie's mind, light, but imperative. An ice cold fear gripped her now, against her will, and she turned back to the door from whence she came, it seeming so far away now. Her hoof hovered from the ground, ready to bolt at any moment, but she gently set it down on the carpet below, the gelatinous feeling coming once again. There's nothing for me to worry about, Pinkie Pie reassured herself, besides, I've got things to do in the room to the left.
This proposition shocked Pinkie Pie. She didn't know how, but she somehow knew where she was supposed to go. For what reason, she was not sure. Turning back around, she sneaked her way down the hall, darkness enveloping her even more as she entered the depths. Just like her gut instinct told her, she took a left down a narrow corridor with a pair of uneven steps leading to an elevated platform, where there stood yet another door, with the same design as the door to the room she'd just came from.
Once again, the foreboding feeling took over again, making her feel so nervous that she was about to vomit. Don't. The simple word kicked her in the gut, leaving her immobile. But, for some reason, that thought didn't seem directly to her... like a friend talking to another over her shoulder. Don't go... the voice was softer now, more gentle, but with a tinge of sadness that overcame the panic in Pinkie's heart. She knew that the voice wasn't talking to her... there was no way. It was so passive that she could've sworn it was from somepony else.
Taking in a deep breath, Pinkie coursed through the narrow hallway, the hollowed knocking sound her hooves produce starting to turn more creaky. It seemed like the floor was buckling beneath her as she hobbled to the door. The worst was the stairs, giving a sort of elastic feel to the foundation. But, for some reason, she didn't feel panicked by this at all. She knew the state of the place she was in was the least of her problems.
Holding her breath, anticipation boiling in her heart, Pinkie grabbed a hold of the doorknob and pulled the door toward her, the ginger movement not even making a creak on this one. The room was small, small enough that a couple paces inward would bring her to the opposite wall. Inside, to the right of the doorframe, a desk stood, dark wood warped and leaning to the left, the stout chair nearly engulfed by the brim of it. By a large, long-dead candle was a roll of parchment, edges torn and yellowed with age, ink fading into the surface. Pinkie stepped further into the room, and eyed the parchment carefully. For some reason, she felt comfortable around it, almost nostalgic. But as she inched closer to the parchment, she was able to make out one singular word, scratched all over the surface:
"Why?"
The comfortable nostalgia soured into great unease. What is this letter talking about? she asked herself, cocking an eyebrow. Along with the unease, she felt that she knew. She knew she knew, but she couldn't recall what she knew. It was like she was back in school for a moment after a long summer break, staring at the review papers, the answer on the tip of her tongue when it just wouldn't come.
That's when her ear twitched. The hairs stood on the back of her neck as she whipped her head to the door frame. What was that? she thought, heart hammering up in her throat. The noise—a hollowed clumping sound—emitted from the shadows of the hall, panning slowly from her left ear closer to her right. Pinkie Pie didn't waste any time; she slammed the door in front of her, not caring for a single second if she was heard. She ripped the small chair from under the desk and crowded herself under it, not daring to breathe.
The sound panned at a quicker pace, nearly parallel to her. It stopped for a moment, and Pinkie swore she could hear a rushed intake of air, like sniffing, and the thumpings continued, crescendoing as the noise started to pan once again to her right ear. What ever it was, it was coming down the hallway leading into this room.
As the sounds got closer, Pinkie Pie's head started to reel. She caught her head in her hooves, trying to ward off the dizziness and pain once again. But that was when a memory popped through the dark muck in her mind with such force she nearly jumped right into the desktop.
Giggle at the ghosties, it said. The voice was cheery and affable, almost too much so. In this setting, it was downright unsettling. But, there was familiarity behind it, almost as if she'd be a hypocrite if she didn't use this tactic. Pinkie Pie took a deep breath and forced herself to laugh. It started small, then like a weak spark to wood, died within an instant when there was a slam on the door, with enough force to crack the frame, a strange maroon light seeping through the crack. Pinkie Pie jumped, hitting her head against the desktop. The pain increasing, she squished into the wall, kicking her legs against the soft black carpet.
There was another set of sniffs, so evenly spaced out it seemed mechanical. Behind the door, another noise came, like a dark growl as the clumping noise continued once again, this time panning to her left ear, the maroon light swiping off the floor. It's... going away? Pinkie Pie thought, still stiffened up against the wall below the desk. When the noise started disappearing to her left, she unlocked her joints, starting to sprawl on the floor, laughing out of relief, a hoarse, airy laugh. It took another couple minutes until she dared move again, and even more time to even walk to the door. The damage done to the door was major. A nearly straight line down the center buckled and splintered out, a crack wide enough to see down the hall. Pinkie Pie blinked. If I hide in here again, I can kiss my luck goodbye, she thought, heart sinking.
With a slow and sneaking movement, Pinkie batted the door open, the door nearly fallen off its hinges as it turned open. When she stepped out of the room, she heard something crinkle under her hooves. Lifting up her foreleg in alert, she studied the ground. Floating on the bristles of the carpet was a letter, not parchment this time, but paper. The handwriting looked elegant, something that triggered a sense of familiarity, but she couldn't pinpoint what the memory was. Curious, she bent down to the ground, squinting to try to read the text.
Pinkie, You haven't been sending me letters lately. What's the matter? I know that there has been stuff going on that you've been busy with, but even then, this seems unusual. But I guess I have nothing to worry about, right?
In any case, I got the job! Igneous Park is now open, and I get to be a tour guide! My main job will be explaining the dating on the rocks and how they relate to Equestria's history. Though they are going to put me in rigorous voice training. They say I'm too monotone. I see where they are coming from.
But that's all I've got for you, really. So I guess I will talk to you later. Just, in case if anything is getting you down, Pinkie Pie, don't submit. I do not want to lose another sister, all right?
Love you, Maud
Pinkie Pie raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to lose another sister"? she thought. This letter, this Maud... who is this pony?
Pinkie Pie read over the crinkled paper again, taking in every detail until her neck ached and her back strained. She straightened up, rolling her neck as questions flew about in her sedated mind. Who was this Maud? How did she know her?
But something clicked in her mind. If Maud could send letters here... could it be possible if she can send letters back? She was talking straight to her... so maybe it wouldn't be totally uncalled for if it went through. But a shiver zapped down her spine. I would have to be near it again, she realized. Would it really be worth the risk? She didn't know what it would do if it found her, and at the demonstration of its destruction, she didn't think it would be good at all. But... this was all she had right now. By all means, she was scared to go out into the hall, and given that another meetup with it was inevitable, she would rather get over with it quickly than have the leeching fear being pulled from her slowly.
Resolving herself, she turned back into the small room, Or office, she figured. If there was a letter here, then there was bound to be a ink cartridge and a quill somewhere in here. She rummaged through the room, checking everywhere for something to write with; under the chair she'd thrown across the room that now had a broken leg, in the corners, until she finally found it. Under the desktop there was a glass ink cartridge, on one side, a crack tracing down the surface.
There was no sign of a quill, but she didn't need it at that moment. She grabbed the ink cartridge and placed in on the desk. She looked toward the piece of parchment and flipped it over, revealing a blank surface to write on. She then opened the ink cartridge and slowly trickled the ink on the tip of her hoof. There was a tad bit too much there, but it would do. On the parchment, she wrote down three words, simple, three-letter words that she managed to write down using her bare hoof, the writing sloppy, and looking ultimately like it was written with a calligraphy pen:
"Who are you?"
Wiping the ink off on the carpet, she rolled up the parchment an picked it up, turning to face the door. Now's the hard part, she thought, her heart starting to hammer once again. Taking a deep breath, she took slow steps out into the hall, trying to make the least noise she could. Too slow, she figured, upping her pace to a trot, her vision tunneling, and her heart thumping back into her throat. She skidded to a halt at the hall's intersection, the room that she'd woken up in to her right. Looking either way, she swiftly dropped the parchment at the exact center, jumping back a few feet before sprinting back to the office, nearly tripping up the two steps. She swung herself to the inside wall, back to the wall, heart hammering at lightning-fast speeds.
Gasping for breath, she waited for the noise to start again, the hollowed clumping on the seemingly elastic floorboards that she grew to dread. They only started a few minutes ago, making Pinkie catch her breath. The noise panned from the right to the left, finally stopping directly behind her. It sniffed, then the moving noise continued, and, knowing she'd probably regret the decision, Pinkie shot an eye out of the door frame into the hall.
For a split second she saw a tail, curved upwards like a cat's, though its barbed end folded over and touched the end, a little bit more like an amphibian's. Then it swiped around the corner, and she saw something like a puff of smoke emitting from the end of the tail before it disappeared entirely.
Then she switched her gaze down to the ground, where her piece of parchment had lain before the creature had come. Part of her expected it to be still there, either in whole or ripped to pieces. Another part of her expected the creature to jump back and try to attack her again. But, neither of those happened. Her eyes had fallen on a blank carpet, with no other color breaking its dark surface.
The creature had taken the letter.
It was another, long few moments when the sounds returned. Heart pumping in anticipation, as soon as the sounds had went back to whence they came, she peeked out of the door frame. Outside was a letter, folded elegantly unlike the other one, actually bound with a wax seal. She rushed out to get it, and galloped back, and unfolded the paper, a part of the letter ripping with the wax seal. On it read:
Pinkie, you haven't forgotten about me, have you? I'm Maud, your sister. Have been from the beginning. Something's happened to you, has it? Please don't tell me you attempted it again... trauma like that can ruin memories.
Since the paper hadn't been written on the whole surface, Pinkie ripped off a corner, rolled it up, and dipped that in the ink before she started writing again:
"What trauma? Look, I've got nothing on how I got here or who I am besides basic memories like my name. I don't know anything."
She placed the new writing on the same letter she'd received, and placed it out in the intersection again. The creature held true to the pattern, bringing back the letter every time she'd place one out there. In the end, there ended up being five pages in total, and Pinkie read over them all very carefully.
I really don't like talking about this, but okay...
You were not that emotionally stable before now. Since you were five, you struggled with ADHD and depression, and dad, being the pony he was at the time, wasn't too nice to you, neither was mom. So you did things you thought would alleviate the pain from their insults. I'd walked in on you a couple times while you were in the process, and I would bandage you up, and try to console you, say everything was all right when they weren't. You've attempted doing away with yourself multiple times, even living with your new friends in Ponyville, and you'd come to me with these problems on an occasional basis. Your friends, I assume, helped you along the way, as I haven't received any messages like that for months on end.
"Wow... I was like that? I'm surprised I had any friends back then."
Well, you introduced me to them a couple months back, and they've said that you're a dear friend to them. They said you were fun, exciting, and unique in the way you go about things. You always helped them out, and they helped you out in turn. So, when you look at it that way, it makes perfect sense why you'd have friends.
"I guess. But, you said something about losing another sister in the previous letter. What did that mean?"
Oh. It was twenty years ago, two years before you were born. We were expecting another addition to the family, a healthy pegasus, to be precise. We were surprised about the news, and we were so excited. None of us knew that we had pegasus blood in us, but I guess anything's possible, right?
But then, things took a turn for the worse. Mom ended up having a miscarriage with that baby, and the baby died shortly afterwards. That moment drove the family apart, and would be an explanation why mom and dad treated you so bad until you got your cutie mark. And the change was glorious. We learned to be a happy family after that instance. Mom and dad finally learned that you were the addition to the family they'd always wanted.
"I see."
But, whatever you are in or been through, please stay strong. I love you.
The messages ended after that, leaving Pinkie Pie unable to write again. She'd had a hard past... and now she was in this predicament. But all she wanted to do now was to get out of here, to meet her alleged sister, learn more about her.
"Love you too," she replied, and put it out in the center of the intersection again. But, this time, she didn't go back into the office. She hung near the platform, her heartbeat rising, trying to wrap herself in steel resolve. She wanted to know her sister more than anything now, questions digging at her mind. And strangely, throughout the process, she felt a pang of a feeling she didn't understand: sadness. The familiarity of the situation was also there, almost like nostalgia, but she didn't understand any bit of it.
A few moments later, the clumping sound continued. She braced herself, shaking in her hooves as the creature's sounds panned from left to right. As they got louder, she got restless to move, anywhere but here and beyond. But she held her ground, waiting until the creature finally came. She sunk into the darkness as its leg appeared. Then another. As its full body appeared, Pinkie Pie stared up in horror to what it really was.
The body was vast, bulky but somewhat long. It had thirteen spines, shaped like shark fins on its slightly arched back, leading to its long barbed tail. From here Pinkie could smell it, a musty smell like from a damp cave. Its head was a cross between amphibian and feline: the head was long, though triangle-shaped ears that had bits bitten out of them leaned forward to its small, somewhat pronounced muzzle. At the center of his forehead was a singular eye, emitting a maroon glow that Pinkie saw only some time ago seeping into the office. Its rays rested on the page, and it picked it up with its mouth, and flipped away from her to the left once again, walking to its supposed home.
Pinkie's legs wouldn't move. She couldn't do this. She was afraid about what could happen, and what the risks were, and after seeing the sheer size of the thing, she knew she couldn't outrun it if it did manage to discover her. But she didn't have a choice. Sitting here didn't change a thing.
Forcing herself to move, heart hammering in fear and anticipation, she galloped after the creature.
Pinkie Pie could not believe what she was doing. But her legs seemed to forcefully guide her every step of the way, through the door opposite the ones she'd came from, opened slightly ajar, the creature in front of her moving—more like slithering—into it.
It felt like Pinkie Pie's mind could pop at any second. There were many things that were on the tip of her tongue, many memories in her wake that she just couldn't exercise. The feeling was irritating, and she just wished that the bag of popcorn would just start popping already like what happened with her on her first encounter. But she didn't dare move closer. Whatever this was, it seemed to be caused by the creature—the Messenger, she decided to call it.
The creature snaked around the corner of the door frame, pushing the door silently and slickly, almost as if the creature wasn't there, and the door just opened on its own. Forcing every stiff step, Pinkie Pie followed, her heart about ready to burst, every part of her body wanting to shut down because of sheer fear. But that was when the Messenger stopped in its tracks, and she'd gotten too close. The memories started popping in her head at random intervals, like a rapid-shot picture of abstract art. She didn't understand the people that had popped in her head, nor the places, and didn't wait for the recognition to start before she backed up and landed on her flank, head pounding and overwhelmed.
Through the sudden revelation, she could hear the Messenger start to sniff, and now its crimson eye was on her, its maroon light shining on her. Pinkie Pie froze, jaw agape as the creature swiveled to face her, bending the arch in its back down, its barbed tail swaying in the air.
Pinkie Pie didn't know what to do. The Messenger was blocking her path, staring at her through the open door frame and ready to spring. She could run, but that would have the risk of discovering its true speed when threatened. So the only thing I can do... she thought, every part of her now wanting to get away from that thing. Regardless, she took in a large breath, trying to calm herself as she stayed.
The Messenger didn't release its position. It stayed there, swaying its tail in an almost hypnotic fashion. The longer Pinkie stared at it, the more familiar the sight became, and she could see herself making the mistake of moving. But, the Messenger wouldn't move, and as far as she knew, she couldn't move either. It all came down to a stalemate, a stalemate that could only be broken if one of them moved a single inch.
Finally, the Messenger relented. It turned back around and proceeded into the room, Pinkie not daring move an inch before the near-popping memories calmed down. She slowly got up and sneaked to the door, peeking her head out just passed the frame.
This room was a thing out of a nightmare. Splintered wood walls and floors greeted her when she peeked through, the whole geometry of the room distorted and twisted. To her left, at the end of the room was a circular hatch in the wall, the hatch being just as effective as a piece of paper as it flapped in the wind. There was a definite temperature change in this room; it was a lot colder than the rooms before it.
The Messenger gave her no heed as it proceeded to squeeze through the flap as if it was a spider, cramping itself in an scooting itself through. The shuffling sounds were different, like they were on metal rather than on wood. Finally, its barbed tail slipped through, leaving the hatch wide open.
Reluctantly, Pinkie Pie sneaked into the room, starting to slide on the slanted floor as the room continued to twist. She was walking on would've been the bottom right corner of the room when she reached the hatch. The tunnel therein seemed to go on forever, it sheer length coning the path before her.
Ignoring the fear in her heart, she hoisted herself into the tunnel and started crawling, though the tunnel was just big enough to stand in. It was a full few minutes when she finally hit the end—though not the end she was entirely expecting. Whilst crawling, she felt her hooves plummet downward, her body following. A split second later, she fell face-first into a sort of cushion, her neck popping in many places before she rolled back onto her hooves. Unable to keep her head straight, she tried focusing on what was before her, grimacing.
She stood in the center of a spherical room, an ominous blue light emitting from underneath the platform she stood on. The diameter of the room was bigger than the length of the halls, white lights in the wall shining like stars through darkness. Pinkie moved around uncertainly, feeling around with her hooves, feeling the platform get steeper with every step forward. She backed up to the center of the platform, getting her hammering heart and breath under control.
Through the thick curtain of darkness on the platform, it seemed like lights were fading away on the wall, only to reappear in a wave. The movement stopped, and a singular red light shone on Pinkie Pie, making her stop in her tracks. She stood still as she did before, holding her breath, but nothing stopped the oncoming threat this time. It burst from the wall, landing on the soft platform in front of it, the Messenger now only feet away from Pinkie.
Pinkie didn't have a choice. Either face the Messenger and obvious death, or risk everything to get away from it. She galloped to the edge of the platform and jumped, bracing herself when she hit the wall, pitched forward enough for her forelegs to attempt to catch her fall. A sick crunch exploded from beneath her, and she landed on her chin as she skidded the rest of the way down, flipping toward the center of the room.
The blue light was coming from an organic-looking structure in front of her, shuddering while it pulsated. It was transparent, and she could see an explosion of bright lines shooting from its epicenter. But the closer she looked, she could see a face, misty in the organism's tissue. She recognized this face; her clay-colored coat and dull-pink mane once again put a name on the tip of her tongue. Although, as always, she couldn't put it together, no matter how hard she tried.
Suddenly, the Messenger dropped right in front of Pinkie, curling up its tail in preparation. Pinkie tried to move, but she couldn't. She looked down, confused at her forelegs which were now twisted at odd angles, blood trickling from breached skin. She felt like she could pass out... but she didn't feel any pain. An uncalled-for pang of sadness hit her, and for a second, it seemed like there was nothing more familiar than this feeling.
The barb of the Messengers tail shot forward and embedded itself in Pinkie's chest, the impact feeling like a punch as she could feel bones crackle in her chest. Once again, it was more of a shock; there was no pain. Her breathing became shallow, her sight caving in almost instantly after impact.
Pinkie Pie didn't know where she was. Darkness was all she saw all around her, and again she couldn't stand up no matter how hard she tried.
In front of her was a rose. A rose with crimson red petals, spiraling out in beauty. Many would appreciate the beauty of the rose, she knew, but all it brought for her was sadness. It wasn't anything she immediately recognized, the feeling becoming stronger before it became unbearable. It felt like something was missing... and the rose had something to do about it. That was all that came to her. Nothing else but her cries.
She willed her eyes open, an almost alive fabric brushing against her. She stood—I stood up! Pinkie Pie thought, lifting her hooves and studying them up and down. Her forelegs were no longer broken.
She looked around her, the desk to her side with the broken ink bottle confirming that she was back in the office. Her sudden appearance there shocked her. How did I end up here? she thought. I was in that odd room, the rose... and now here.
Pinkie Pie turned toward the door, where the letters she'd sent back and forth with Maud lay, folded. Pinkie Pie didn't know why she did that. There was no one here who would read the letters, but it bothered her when she didn't do so. From her viewpoint, however, something seemed different. Her heart jumped and she galloped toward the letters, unfolding them ravenously. Her eyes widened and started to burn when she realized what had come to pass.
Pinkie Pie flipped the notes front and back for the hundredth time that minute, but nothing changed. The pages were blank, their contents gone as if no one had touched them. Dumbfounded, she slammed into the opposite wall. She didn't know Maud besides the little she told her, but Pinkie felt a connection after seeing the rose. A connection so strong and profound it was like losing a limb when this event had come to pass.
Pinkie tried digging into her memories, anything she might've gained at the last second between her and the Messenger. Sadly, it was only close enough for the split second it had... it had... Pinkie Pie clamped her mouth shut, bringing a hoof up to her muzzle to muffle her erratic breathing. It couldn't have... killed her? Pinkie remembered every bit and piece of it; her legs broken up to the point where she had been stabbed by the Messenger's barb were still fresh in her memory. She stroked her chest, feeling for any damage, but there was none.
It was then Pinkie realized what the Messenger had done in whole: it gave her a memory. It was abstract, mostly pathological, but it as indeed a memory. Her head felt like it was floating when she rolled forward in a sort of upright fetal position. That was the only thing she could think about: the blank letters, and the rose. Pinkie Pie felt something when she was in that dream—she knew it, and she wasn't going to let this discouragement get to her.
Pinkie Pie once again gathered her writing supplies, and wrote on the paper again, praying that she would get something back from her sister—anything, be it a small symbol or some sort of sign that she was still in contact. But that's when fear struck through Pinkie Pie's heart. Could it be possible that the Messengers got to her? she thought, almost immediately shaking the thought from her head afterward. No, she would still be alive like me. Or at least, I would think. Pinkie rubbed her chest once again, the feeling like white noise in her chest. I haven't asked her if she knew where I was. Pinkie thought, picking up the small roll of paper and started writing. It took her a moment to think up what to write, and she didn't want to get her hopes up for a reply back from her. So she wrote down a simple message on the blank piece of paper, the nearly calligraphic mouth-writing on the edge of illegible:
"Where am I?"
Just as last time, she set the letter out at the center of the hall's intersection. She made sure to make plenty of noise to gather the Messenger's attention, and galloped back to the office, flipping around the door frame, waiting for its anticipated arrival. But other than the rabid thumping of her heart, nothing came. In fact, she was almost sure she could hear the echoes of the galloping still bouncing off the walls in the empty rooms and halls. She didn't hear the death-like clumping coming near by, she didn't even hear the sniffing that the Messenger did constantly as it wandered through the halls.
Out of impatience and stone cold anticipation, Pinkie sneaked a peek outside the cracked door frame, looking beyond into the intersection. As dreaded, the letter still lay there, the bubbles of the ink still visible from a couple yards away. Pinkie pushed herself away from the door frame, her heart rate spiking. She didn't know why she was still frightened by the thought of going back there. She didn't hear the sounds, so the Messenger couldn't be there. However, she was still apprehensive, perhaps for what didn't happen.
Regardless of her boiling fear, she kicked herself out of the doorway to a full sprint down to the intersection. She skidded to a halt at the end of the 'T' intersection, and studied the letter. The writing was still there, and everything seemed just the same as she'd put it, prepared for the Messenger. But, there was a clear absence of the dreadful beast, and Pinkie's heart sunk through the Earth. Sulking, she looked to her right and to her left. Just the halls sprawling out either way, to open doors that she grew all too familiar with.
Pinkie was on the verge of collapsing and breaking into sobs. Her knees buckled when she remembered the things Maud told her, about being there for her through her hardest times, about her meetup with her friends, and it all seemed so real. Horrifyingly, in some cases, it sounded like her. And with every passing seconds she realized how similar she and Maud were, and how much they cared for each other, even through a tough childhood. And... and...
That was it. Pinkie Pie slammed into the floor, tears flowing like out of a floodgate from her eyes. She then let out the most guttural bellow she knew she'd ever done, punching the floor until it crackled. I was so close, she thought. And then I lost all contact with her. She just lay on the floor now, her sobs melting into the nearly alive dark carpet, the only cold thing that could ever console her in this situation. But even then, everything was empty, and she could do nothing about it.
A few moments passed before her sobbing subsided, transforming into small coos into the carpet below. She just needed a release. She wanted to sleep, yell, punch, kick, anything that would alleviate this suffering from her. But alas, sleep would not take her; she was void of feeling exhaustion, as she figured through tedious waiting periods for the letter to return. And there was nothing else to punch at. Nor was there anything to injure herself with. She had nothing to exchange for this horrible feeling, and she just couldn't stand feeling it anymore.
She stood once again, feeling a hundred times heavier than before. She ground her teeth. All this time, she had been trying to learn about her sister and the place around her. All this time she was locked in fear. All this time, she'd been waiting for something glorious to happen, and this was the result of her passiveness. She shuddered, a stern hardness gathering about her. It was time she did something to escape this place, be it through the Messenger or through some other way. The thought of waiting to receive something through the Messenger's memoria sickened her.
Without a second's thought, she stormed through the halls, iron determination settling in her chest as she made way into the room she'd been before the Messenger did away with her. That was the closest thing she had to an answer now. She wasn't going to waste any time.
She galloped through the crooked room and jumped through the hatch into the porthole, dragging herself until she felt the drop. She then stood up and jumped down the entrance, barrel-rolling on impact. Except, the room was now different. Instead of the small lights peppered all over the walls, the blue light shed all around. Pinkie grimaced, and closed her eyes. Not that she needed to adjust to the light, but it looked so surreal. When she looked at the wall, she looked past it, like one would do when looking at the sky. It all gave her a big headache.
That was when she stopped in her tracks. She felt pain, physical pain rather than heart-wrenching feeling from earlier. She no longer felt sedated. Rather, she felt like she was finally waking up from a horrible dream, but the effects of it were carried over, causing an all-out war within herself: whether to fight or fly, and whether to stay angry or wallow in depression. Pinkie shook her head of the thoughts. I will continue on, she decided, walking to the edge of the blackened platform from shadow. Swallowing down her fear, and steeling herself up for an impact, Pinkie jumped again, this time, angling herself differently from last time, twisting herself in mid air, chin up to make her start to flip backwards. Her back made slap-contact with the wall, knocking all the breath out of Pinkie. She slid until she reached the bottom of the spherical room, the nearly-mat material slowing her down.
Trying to catch her breath, Pinkie Pie stood, her skin still tingling after the impact at the bottom of the room. Shaking spots from before her eyes, she focused forward. The same organic-looking thing was there, the transparent tissue producing the blue light pulsating, almost like a heart. Pinkie approached the source of the light like a tiger to its prey. It took her a moment to realize she was snarling, a horrible feeling of anger blanketing her. She could feel her sentience fading before her, and she was just a small moment from becoming an animal.
It might've been the close proximity to the organism, but Pinkie Pie had a last moment of fear when the anger took complete hold. She charged at the organism, turned around and bucked it. The whole thing shuddered, the blue right becoming red for a moment. This didn't call for a moment's hesitation from Pinkie; she charged and tore at the tissue around the organism, Pinkie's actions no longer becoming hers. It was horrifying, and it was like she was watching from afar but up close what her body was doing. And the most terrifying thing of all—she couldn't stop herself.
Before she knew it, she tore off a chunk of the tissue surrounding the organism, green blood splattering in Pinkie's face. The stream was so strong that pushed Pinkie backward, finally snapping her out of her hellish daze. But, like the Messenger, but times one hundred, memories popped in her mind suddenly and all at once. Pictures, moving, but actually with information. She remembered her friends: Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Twilight. She remembered mostly everything they did together, and even remembered them meeting Maud.
When the intake of memories subsided, she felt many things at once. Happy and jovial, but then quickly overcome by sadness and confusion. Out of all the memories there, none of them were about Maud. Besides the application of the name to the pony, that was all she had, beside what she had told her.
That was when she heard a stirring from up above. It was a clumping sound, against metal this time. The sniffing was constant and sharpened by the composition of the porthole. Pinkie Pie looked up, nearly dreading about she was about to see. A head like a lizards, but somewhat like a cat's stuck out from the porthole she'd come from, the singular red eye staring down at her.
A pang of horror hit Pinkie in the chest. It wasn't anywhere! she denied, mouth agape. How did it... That was when she realized, The other room! The Messenger must have been in the other room!
The Messenger didn't even waste a second. It jumped from its perch up high right in front of where Pinkie Pie was standing. It propped its tail up again, its barb relinquishing black mist like before. Pinkie Pie wanted to run, but something clicked in her mind. Something that she dreaded. But, Pinkie thought, in order to do that...
She didn't have a choice. She had to, if she ever wanted to remember her sister.
Pinkie approached toward the Messenger, swallowing the lump in her throat down so she could breathe. "I know what you can do," she gasped, her voice raspy, and broken up in tears. "I've seen it before. But please... please help me remember." As she inched closer, the Messenger bowed closer to the ground, propping up its barb, the dark mist starting to fume out of the tip. Pinkie Pie didn't understand why she talked to it. Her second demise was inevitable, even without the speech. But her heart wrenched and ached all the while. She had to say something, anything to alleviate that feeling before it happened.
Pinkie closed her eyes, flashes of memories she didn't understand appearing then disappearing to the dusty recesses of her mind. She braced herself, for the longest time until she knew something was wrong. She opened her eyes, realizing the Messenger had straightened up entirely.
Pinkie Pie was surprised. She didn't know what to make of the Messenger as it slithered to the center of the room, toward the blue light of the platform. Slowly, she stood, studying the Messenger through hazy eyes. "Please..." she whimpered. "Please! At least do something!"
The Messenger didn't respond. It stared at the dull blue light, green liquid puddling around its feet. Then, its tail uncurled over its head, and with a mighty blow, it pierced the skin of the organism, more of the green liquid bursting out of the puncture wound. The Messenger's tail then moved back the way it came, the flesh being brought together.
Pinkie Pie didn't understand at first, but through the neediness clouded in her mind, she realized it. The Messenger is healing the organism, she thought. The Messenger stabbed into the organism again and again, doing the exact same thing, sealing the wound. The dull blue light of the organism began to brighten, slowly, but surely. This is its home, she thought. The Messenger... it's caring for it like...
Maud.
It was a hot summer's day, there at the mouth of the badlands. The red rock spread for miles and miles, covering the valley in a blood-like color. There was no comfort for Pinkie Pie then, save it the light breeze that ran across her back and whispered in her ear dead nothings that she could only hope to hear.
She stared at her left hoof. New red lines traced there, and her eyes followed them, like she was reading what exactly happened. Dad yelled, was the only thing she could think of. Dad screamed. Dad hit. Dad drank. Things that he said he'd never do... he did. Her mother was barely different. Blood trickled from these lines as her vision started to haze, and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping, somehow, for lost hope.
And yet, here she was, sitting outside nearly a mile from her home. It was a needed flight. She couldn't have known what would've happened to her had she stayed in the household. She didn't want to know. All she knew was that confusion. Dad drank. Dad hit. It was all true... but it was inconceivable.
She just wanted to escape. Escape from this hell she'd walked into. Escape everything that proved her to be a filly that she wasn't. And she knew it meant certain death.
"Pinkie?" called a voice behind her, but Pinkie didn't look. The monotone voice she'd grown familiar with throughout her entire life. Maud couldn't see the cuts. Pinkie didn't want her to. She didn't want Maud to worry, to grieve.
Regardless, Maud kept coming, and tears came rolling down Pinkie's face along with sickening sobs. Maud came and sat by Pinkie Pie, nuzzling her, shushing her. Just like her mother did when she was just a little younger, before the incidents. Maud didn't press her about the marks on her hoof, nor why she galloped nearly a mile away into the rock farm. She just sat there and nuzzled, just shushing her like a babe.
And, somehow, it worked. Pinkie's tears dried a couple minutes later, and she started to coo into her sister's cheek. Tears were shed between the two of them, one of the few times Pinkie ever remembered her crying. They sat there in the enveloping heat for moments on end, then Maud stood.
"Come, Pinkie," she said, still whispering. "We must get you home."
Pinkie was shocked. "W-why?" she asked in horror. "Why w-would I ever return there?"
"Where else can we go?" Maud looked down at Pinkie, a trace of sympathy still present in her dull expression. "I'll protect you, Pinkie," she decided. "No matter what Mom and Dad throw at you, I will protect you from it. I promise this, from here on out." Maud, for the first time in what seemed like ages, smiled. "Come on. Let's go home."
Home...
Pinkie's eyes widened in realization. The Messenger was still at work in front of her, healing up its home, like Pinkie did hers. "Home," she mumbled. "I need to get home." Pinkie stood, staring at the alien blue light with a different respect.
It was all coming back to her. It was all complete. Her life up until recently, her friends, their adventures. Ponyville, Canterlot, the Crystal Empire; it was all there now. She remembered she hadn't fallen back into old habits for about a year now, and that she was at the top of her life.
Though, one question still remained: why was she here? Why wasn't she with her friends, drinking coffee at the Sugar Cube Corner Bakery, or with Twilight, studying? Or with Rainbow Dash, pranking? Or with Maud, having a great family reunion though just between the two of them. Why here?
Reality wavered before Pinkie. It was like watching a rock fall into a lake, how the ripples made everything so blurry. She blinked. What's happening? she thought as more ripples formed around her. They tore through the very fabric of reality, a tiled ceiling rushing past above her. The Messenger disappeared, the organism faded into the white light, and one dizzying moment later, she was lying down.
The wheels screeched beneath her, tortured by the weight as raised voices resonated through the halls. A flurry of voices bandied around, bickering even.
"We need her hooked up to an I.V. right now," commanded a voice to her right.
"How long has she been abstemious?" asked a voice to the left.
"Mrs. Cake said she'd gone into her room for a little more than a day," the voice to her right recounted, female.
"And she was found unconscious," the voice to the left concluded.
"Yes," the voice to her right confirmed. The white, tiled ceiling burst into a darker room, a curtain flying behind her.
"What..." Pinkie rasped. "What's going on?" she asked louder.
A doctor appeared behind her, tan coat, reddish eyes, with a white facemask and cap. "Don't you worry, Ms. Pie. You'll be nice and strapped in soon."
"What happened?" Pinkie asked again.
"We do not have that information at the moment," the tan doctor said. "We will get you in the know shortly. In the meantime..." The doctor parted the fur on her left hoof, and he froze for a second, then came back. "... rest," he said quieter, as a short, pinching pain filled her left hoof, twice. The world began to spin and she floated before her eyelids lost the strength to hold themselves up. The world faded to black.
Pinkie awoke to a small room. It wasn't the same as before, with the curtains or the blankness of the emergency room, but it was filled, a radio to her left on a nightstand whispering news, a sink to the left corner with filing cabinets below. To either side was the I.V. and the heart monitor, beeping a constant rhythm.
Beside her was a familiar face. A middle-aged mare sat on a chair next to her, looking out a window. Her cyan coat contrasted with her red peppermint-swirled manedo. Earrings of the same color hung as orbs to the side of her head. Strapped around her chest was a light green apron, pink fletchings like wings fanning out to either side.
"Mrs. Cake?" Pinkie slurred, the sedative still messing with her head.
Mrs. Cake's head turned, and she nearly jumped out of her seat. But instead, she smiled, though Pinkie could see that she was having a hard time resisting the temptation to leap up and hug her. "Bless you, you're awake!" She sighed for relief.
"Yeah..." Pinkie agreed. "But, what happened, Mrs. Cake? Why am I here?"
Mrs. Cake's face suddenly turned grim. "Oh," she tried to laugh. "Uhm... you were abstemious for quite a while. When I found you, you were unconscious from lack of water and food... and... uhm..."
Pinkie Pie sat up, the heart monitor beeping faster and faster. "What is it?" she asked. Again, there was that dread to know what the truth was, but she pushed it aside. "What happened?"
Mrs. Cake's eyes fixated on the ground. "I'm sorry, Pinkie. I told you this a couple days ago... and..." She gulped. "Your sister, Maud... she's dead."
