Jailed for a crime he didn't commit, Oil Base is haunted by a shadowy mare who wants nothing but to torment him for all time.
Jailed for a horrible crime he didn't commit, Oil Base is haunted by a shadowy mare in Canterlot Prison. Is he just talking to himself in the dungeons? Or is there a mare in the darkness that wants nothing more than to torment him for all time?
I sat miserably in a pile of hay, stirring about a little pile of rocks in the darkness. A small firefly light didn’t even allow me the luxury of setting my bedding on fire and suffocating to death. Not the worst way to go, really. All things considered. I was glad the light was weak, I could barely stand the sight of myself. The little sink and tiny mirror was fastened to the wall by magic. The toilet was inlaid in the wall as well, it felt like hunching in a broom closet with no door. The must of age and the weight of the mountain above me offered no comfort. But why bother really? What did it matter? Nopony escaped from the dungeons of Canterlot. The prison of the seat of power was batting a thousand, and I was just a simple earth pony.
She was… she was somethin’ else. Her name was Cobweb Dew. A professor’s daughter, with wings so light they could stroke the dew from the morning leaves and not break the droplets. I’d fallen madly in love with her and--!
“Random search,” I was blinded for a moment, lifting my forearm to my eyes. A bullseye lantern invaded my little cell. “Stand against the wall, prisoner.” The guard was not unkind, I thought, just doing his job. I obeyed sluggishly, for no energy remained for somepony who lived in this stone-walled hell. The steel door whined open. A pair of guards entered. One stood in the doorway, and the other pawed about for a few minutes. Not that I really had anything to hide. There was nothing to do down here other than the occasional harassing guard, the phantom book cart that I’d never seen, or talking to one’s self. You could get mail, I’d been told, but who would mail a raper? Nopony. “Thank you for your cooperation,” the other said, and they were away. The glimpse into the hall revealed only a stone wall dotted with the occasional crystal. I’d wildly fantasized after the first week that a crystal might just jut up out of the darkness and brain me. But to no avail.
I fussed with my oily mane just a little, sighing and laying on my side again. How long had I been here? Prisoners, you see, have a very different perception of time than the average pony. Ever see a thug with a tattoo of a clock on his arm? You’ll probably see it has no hands on it. Time has no meaning down here in the dark. No sun. No moon. No seasons. No stars. No nothing. Just the quiet and the oddly comforting thought of the mountain’s crushing weight above my head.
I used to be a pretty respectable guy, I’ll have you know. I had a tiny little corner bookshop in Canterlot. Sure it wasn’t much in that city of splendors and castles, but hey, location location location. There weren’t a lot of other earth ponies around, but I’m not racist. I used to take seeds to Cobweb Dew and press them between my hooves, then watch her face light up when a leaf or twig emerged. Earth Pony magic fascinated her, and I was too eager to show off. I had a little window garden with morning glory vines. Purple ones. They’d been nice. Anyway. The bookshop. Since there were so many academies around I figured it would be a good place to set up shop for little ones to read stuff. Sure there’s tons of college bookstores around, fancy places that sell forty-bit hardbacks, but… I wanted something nice and bright and happy.
“Prisoner,” a new guard had come by, interrupting my thoughts. “Recreation time in the main caverns. You coming or no?” I always thought it was polite that they gave me the choice and never made me. I’d been once or twice, but staring stupidly around while others ran laps or lifted weights just made me nervous. These were the worst of the worst, why paint a target on my backside? You know what I mean. There’s no secrets about who did what around here.
When I didn’t answer the guard, he went on without me. I think I enjoy the silence more. Why bother keeping fit? Who am I keeping fit for? Me? Somepony else? I haven’t any bedsores just yet. I just lack the willpower, really. Who cares what becomes of somepony like me, if it isn’t their job to? Nopony.
It was some hours later, who knew what time for I had no clock, when a light scraping came to my door. “Prisoner,” the voice said. “Food cart.”
“Dinnertime already?” I mumbled with disinterest, shouldering myself upright. The little doggy door at the bottom unlocked and the flap moved inward. The usual tiny fruits, veggies, milk carton and such. I thanked the pony that had delivered it, as I always did, and she vanished without another word.
I slowly sat in my little hay nest, then laid on my belly. This was my life now, it seemed. I looked at the plastic fork. Was it worth living? Leaning with both hooves I snapped it to make a sharp edge. Rising, I went to the little mirror and sink. Rested the sharp bit of plastic in my nostril. One hard, earth-pony strength jab could send it into my brain and end it all. I touched the tip with a quivering hoof. My breathing sent it into the sink. I left it there. “Coward,” I whispered to nopony at all.
“Valuing one’s existence is not cowardice, it is instinct.” A pronounced voice whispered. I whirled about. There was nopony there. I rushed to the door, looking both ways.
“Who’s there?” I whispered softly, eyes darting about. The room was tiny. There was nowhere to hide. Had I already gone crazy? I’d not been here a month yet. At… at least I didn’t think so. I had no clock. “Who’s there?” I whispered again.
“A shadow, nopony at all,” she said. “My question is, who are you?” I peered around with wide eyes. I seized my little firefly lantern and peered under the bed, stared wildly at the ceiling, and started checking the walls for cracks. Was the prisoner next to me burrowing into my cell? Was there a hole somewhere? “Well?” it asked after some time. I slowly hung up the lantern, staring at the sink. A ran a little water and splashed my face.
“I didn’t hear that I didn’t hear thaa-a-a-a-t…” I whispered in a sing-song way, going back to my little hay nest and sticking my head under, into blessed darkness. No clock, no light, no life, no voice.
A phantom breeze floofed my hay away. “Speak, stallion.” The voice insisted. “Who are you?”
“Nopony. A raper, apparently.” I mumbled, staring at the floor.
“Apparently?”
“Why else would I be in here if I wasn’t?” I said bitterly.
“Many in prison say they are innocent.” The voice snarked a little.
“Just go away. Maybe in five yearsI'll get out, get my sanity back and we can NOT chat then,” I turned and faced the corner, planting my muzzle there.
“I don’t feel like waiting, Prisoner.”
“I don’t feel like talking.” I grumped. “Nopony listened to me before I got in here, nopony who isn’t there isn’t gonna listen to me now.” I’d long since given up after x-number of ponies had branded me as a monster. If you get called a monster by enough folks, you tend to become one, either way.
“Will you tell me about it?” she asked.
“You’re not real,” I said, putting my hooves over my ears.
She waited patiently until I took my hooves down again. “Perhaps saying it out loud will make you feel better.” There was a whispy sound outside my door. Not unlike a unicorn’s horn casting a spell. I leaned, looking back and forth in my little window. There was a glow on my door, on the outside. Some sort of symbol? Mark? Sigil? I couldn’t see! I strained back and forth. The door was hot. Thinking quickly, I went to the sink and got a mouthful of water. Spraying it on my side of the door, the metal hissed and blushed in certain places.
“A spell circle,” I whispered, amazed. I had no inkling of magic, but it certainly looked complicated. All those symbols and marks and geometric lines criss-crossed in a sort of madness I’d never seen before. “You are real.”
“Clearly.” The voice said a little acidly.
“But, where are you?” I insisted.
“In shadow, where I can’t be seen,” she hushed me. “Now keep your voice down and speak.”
“I’m… I’m Oil Base.” I said, minding my mane and flipping it back out of my eyes. I stared into the dark corners of my cell. “I used to own Monkey See, Monkey Read in Canterlot. I guess it’s probably gone by now.”
“Burned down, no less,” the voice said. I moaned at the revelation, pressing my forehead against the cold stone wall. “Tell me. Did you really do what they say you did?”
“What does it matter? They didn’t listen to me.”
“Humor me.”
“…no,” I finally sighed. “I didn’t rape Cobweb Dew. She just says I did.”
“How am I to believe you?” she asked.
“My word is all I have,” I grumbled. “She’s the one with a vagina full of my seed and a father with a reputation to protect.” I folded my arms angrily, slumping into my little nest. I reached and nummel-nummeled on the small pile of carrot sticks on my food tray.
“I believe you,” the shadow said.
“You’re the first,” I said without interest. “Too bad you’re nopony and I’m just talking to smoke and mirrors.”
“It’s for the best you don’t see me,” she said.
“I’m sure it is. With all the other lies flying around in my life, what’s one more?” I said sourly.
“Please don’t be angry,” she said earnestly. I crunched rudely on my food. If this place had an upsides, they certainly fed us fresh stuff. “Tell me what happened.”
I sighed, shaking my head a bit. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told the guards, and the judge, and the jury, and Cobweb Dew’s father.” My metal door seemed to be getting hotter, for the steamed impression of the magic circle was glowing in the half-light. “We started… seeing each other, you know, off to the side. When nopony was looking we would sneak notes and kisses.” I struggled with my milk carton for a few moments. “One night she invited me into her family manor. So I came in through a window. She helped me in and we slept together. Or we were, rather. Her father came in and she panicked.” I felt the hot rush of tears and quickly scrubbed them away. “He got me pretty good with a wooden chair, and she said I was a… a…”
“Prowler?” she said delicately.
“We’d been sneaking around, so of course he didn’t know my face. Nor did anypony else in her family. She’d wanted to keep me secret, all to herself she’d said,” I could already feel the snot flowing. “And with one sentence and a pointin’ hoof, she ruined my life forever,” There was a long silence. Then the sobbing came. I threw the milk carton at the door and the white liquid boiled away instantly. I fell onto my side. “Damn you!” I shouted at her. “Damn you! Making me say all that aloud again!”
The shadow said nothing. Was she gone? When I was all cried out and trying to pick up the pieces again, I checked the door. The symbol was gone, as though it had never been. A sat on my haunches, there in the half-light, numbly trying to get my dinner (lunch? breakfast?) down.
“I am crazy,” I decided after a time. Who the buck was I talkin’ to? Nopony. Nopony at all.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
“Prisoner, get up. We’re going someplace.” A trio, not a pair, of guards had appeared at my door. I ruffled to stand, then stumbled. I’d been sleeping. At least I think I had. It was hard to tell anymore, really. Strange how quick your mind unravels when you can’t even see the sun. Before I knew it I was placed in appropriate, Earth-Pony-Heavy chains. “Nice and easy, Prisoner,” one of them said seriously. They weren’t fools. Anypony that had been thrown into the darkest deep of Canterlot Dungeons was bound to be a monster. You can’t be too careful.
I gave them no reason to hurt me, at least. We went down a hallway. Then another. Then another. Past guard stations. Past the recreation areas. Crystals jutted this way and that, lighting the way. I’d long since lost track before we found our destination. “Minimum Security?” I whispered, looking up at the ornate, crystalline sign. “I don’t understand.”
“Comprehension is not a prerequisite of obedience,” said the guard to my left with a growl. “Keep moving!” I was cropped on the butt and I startled forward a bit. I lowered my head and my gaze. Don’t give them a reason, don’t give them any reason… They led me to a new area. There was some sort of cafeteria, overlooked by dozens of cells in a great block.
Suddenly I saw it. A window! There were windows here! I gaped in awe at the clear blue sky. I was unchained. “You’re lucky, you still have a cell all to yourself.” One of the guards said as they worked off the last bit of my restraints. “Don’t cause any trouble.” “I’ve been transferred?”
“From maximum security to minimum, yeah,” the third guard leaned in really close. “Don’t gimme a reason to put you back, y’hear?” His shining golden helmet glinted in the light of the sun that was streaming into the window.
I decided to go straight to my cell. I could feel eyes following me. Muscle, tattoos, sharp-angled-glasses. Even here it would be easy to get caught, beaten up or something else. Best not to give them a target to even look at.
I was surprised to find my cell had a barred window. I reared up, eagerly sticking my nose out. The fresh air was intoxicating. I closed my eyes. The sun! I could see the sunset. I very nearly wept. You’d be surprised what you miss after so long in darkness.
“So, straight from max-sec to min-sec, huh?” A stranger was leaning on my doorway. A stallion with gangly legs and a red star for a cutie mark. “That takes some doing! What’re you in for?” he wanted to know.
“I’m innocent,” I offered lamely.
He smirked. “Yeah, Yeah man don’t I know it! We’re all innocent in here!” he gave a barking laugh, then stopped to light a cigarette. “Name’s Proto Star,” he said. “Prison Information and Intrigue, at your service.”
“What?”
“Somepony smart enough to know the difference between why somepony is in prison, and what they did to be landed in prison,” he puffed a bit of smoke, flicking the cigarette. “So, what’re you in for?” he asked again.
“I er… raped somepony,” I said, lowering my voice.
“And WHY are you in here?” he said without batting an eye at my confession.
“She… didn’t want to stand up for me in front of her father,” I said, ears wilting.
“Ah, daddy’s little princess pointed the hoof at’cha, did she? That’s rough. Murderers and Rapers end up in Max-Sec most of the time, though,” he eyed me a bit, a note of interest in his face. “How did such a ‘violent case’ like you end up in Min-Sec, I wonder?” I was grateful he believed that I hadn’t done it.
“I… don’t know,” I lied, turning back to the window. The sun was almost set. I startled a little, for there was a figure on the lawn outside. The shadows didn’t let me see much more than a gender, standing among trees as she was. Too small and curvy to be a stallion. Was… was she looking up at me?
“You got an lucky star shining down on you, maybe!” Proto Star turned to go, smiling. “See you at dinner! It’s communal here, so you can socialize!”
“Lucky star…” I mumbled, turning back to look outside again. The mare in the shadows was gone. “Maybe she’s somethin’ else…” I whispered.
I couldn’t sleep. The stars were too beautiful. What? You try living underground for Faust knows how long and then seeing the majesty of Luna’s night all at once. I had to keep wiping my eyes. So sue me, I owned a book store, I can appreciate poetic beauty when I want.
Everypony else was asleep. Since the room was a giant cylinder with the cafeteria at the bottom in the middle, any cell could see most of the others from any point. When all the readers, cloppers, prayer-givers and such had finally rolled over and turned in for the night, I chanced going to my window without being noticed. You could hear a pin drop out there, aside from the occasional snore. The guards even had these little pads on so their hoofsteps wouldn’t resound across the great room and wake everypony up. Cute.
We never really look at them anymore. The stars I mean. I guess when I was out there I took a lot for granted. I can’t remember the last time I saw the sky and stopped to appreciate it like I was right then. I wiped my eyes again, smiling despite my situation. It was the little things sometimes.
I turned, looking at my ‘Welcome Home’ gifts Proto Star had gotten for me. I’d been asked what I wanted. The stallion had bragged that he could get just about anything for me, as long as it wasn’t against the rules. Everybody gets one thing for free, he’d promised. The rest would need to be traded for. Cigarettes, favors and the like were the real currency in here. I’d asked for pen and paper so I could write my thoughts. I’d received a crayon and a stack of napkins. Close enough. With just the right amount of spit you could draw something and stick it to your walls. Heh.
Reaching, I picked up my crayon (purple, if you must know) and hovered over my first page. Nice night, I wrote. I dunno why. Other than Proto Star I’d sort of been keeping to myself.
Nice Night, isn’t it? Luna’s stars shine more brightly If you stop to look.
Well well, lookit me. A poet and I didn’t knowit. Pfft. I smirked good-naturedly. I guess my spirits were lifted, just being able to see outside. The cool night air said it was still summer. Otherwise the bars would’ve been plain old glass. I looked down at the lawn again. No shadow mare. I’d not seen her since I’d moved in a few days ago. I dunno why I kept looking for her. But when you live in a box made of stone even hallucinations are interesting to think about and look forward to.
Then I saw it. A brief break in the light from the guard station. That wasn’t an armored pony. For obvious reasons there were no female guards, but I know a feminine shadow when I see one thank you very much. A heard a quiet hissing sound, like pouring cool water over a hot frying pan. I looked to the wall of my cell. The same spell circle from before appeared. “Oh balls,” I said aloud.
“Shut the buck up over there!” my neighbor grumped loudly. I put my hooves over my mouth, quickly retreating to my bed. A dozen or so inmates lifted their heads, peering about. It was serious taboo to make noise at night. Sleep was sacred, even to prisoners like them. I prayed nopony had seen me out of bed. Five minutes and process of elimination could get me beaten up tomorrow if I wasn’t careful. I pulled the covers over my head, panting a few times.
When I’d gathered my courage and the blanket made the air too hot, I thrust it back to peek. No shadow. I swallowed. The spell circle was still there, smoldering and quietly glowing like a dying grill coal. Grey-orange. I didn’t dare touch it.
I glanced out and down to the floor below. I saw her. She was there, standing among the tables. Oddly tall, she was. Dark fur and dark eyes. My eyes widened as she slipped from table to table, minding the board games, scattered art supplies and stacked books. Her shape seemed to slip, pass, and glide over them all. I couldn’t hear hoofsteps. Was she a ghost?! My breath caught. Was she a shadow, just like she’d said?! She passed into shadow and I lost track of her. I gripped the edge of my blanket, looking around feverishly.
A guard came by on his rounds, startling a yelp out of me. His flashlight turned and he stared at me frownily for a time. A quick sweep around my cell with the light, and he moved on. The pads on his hooves kept him silent. He must’ve thought I’d had a nightmare or something. I checked the darkness once more, but saw nopony else. I slowly laid down with a sigh… only to find her standing next to my bed.
I couldn’t scream. My lungs refused. The icy panic made me freeze up. Her eyes. There were no eyes. Just black voids. Was her fur black? Was she just a shadow?! A little whimper escaped me. Slowly, robotically, she lifted a hoof. “Shhhhhhhhhh…” she said, then… lowered it again. The motion was slow. Deliberate.
“Ah… ah…” I couldn’t make myself scream in horror. “Guh… guard…” I husked pathetically. Nopony heard. “Guard…” She leaned at me and I leaned back until the back of my head was against the cool wall. Her head turned to my napkin and crayon pile, then to the window, then back to me. Her muzzle dripped with an oily, blackened sort of substance. “Guard!” I squeaked.
“Shhhhhhhh…” she said again, slowly reaching out and touching me. The goo lined her fur like sticky ectoplasm. It was ice cold. It smeared the side of my face as she touched my cheek. I started shaking, trembling like a leaf. A line of the stuff slowly oozed up and out of her eye socket, then went down the side of her face like a black, oily tear. It dripped to the floor with a wet splat.
“F-f-f-faust…” I whimpered. She steered my head to look up and into the corner. “H-h-h-h’oh Faust…” I said softly, on the verge of wetting myself. There were cracks up in the top corner of my cell. A bit of dirt peeked through. “Wh-what is it? What’re you sh-showing me?” I begged softly. Her gooey, decayed hoof slid slowly from my cheek to my chin.
When my gaze returned to her, her teeth had morphed from their ooze-slickened nothingness to a set of wriggling earth worms. They flexed in all directions, back and forth, until she leaned and touched her muzzle to mine.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I woke up with a scream that startled the entire cell block into silence. “Easy there, new guy,” Proto Star was standing in the open doorway. I’d… slept in? The sun was streaming in my cell. I furiously scrubbed at my face. No oily goo. “You’re gonna miss breakfast. Quit freakin’ out or you’ll go hungry ‘til lunch.” he offered with a smirk.
I rolled out of bed, sweating and shaking. “N-nightmare,” I grunted a little, holding my stomach. “I-I’ll be along,” I said. “Gimmie a minute.”
“Sure thing,” he shrugged, then was away.
I looked up into the corner of my cell. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? The cracked, aged stone had mud and sod in it. The cell block must’ve been buried under a hill or something. Going to my window to feel the fresh air, I leaned back and forth. Sure enough. When I really, really pressed my face to the bars and looked to one side, I could see flecks of grass. Out of sight out of mind, prisons were, in the magical land of Equestria. I sighed, finally feeling a little better when the sun was on my face.
When I had gathered my wits (and dignity) I turned and made to head out to the great room below my cell. My hoof scuffed something and it petered across the floor. I frowned, looking down. It was black, pod-shaped, and a little dirty. I picked it up. “I don’t believe it,” I whispered softly, staring at it. It was a morning glory seed.
I glanced over at the exposed dirt in the top corner of my cell. Did I dare…? Wouldn’t the guards…? Well. The worst they could do is rip it out, really, I supposed. I sat on my bed, holding the seed between my hooves. I smiled. Such a little thing. Earth Pony instinct made me want to give it life. So, I did. I rubbed it back and forth with my hooves, so gently, letting the terra-magic flow as it always did when one of my kind wanted to grow something.
It burst with a little pop, an infantile curl of green emerging. A tiny leaf poked out and uncurled. I grinned, unable to help myself. Going and standing on the bed, I stuffed it up into the dirt in the corner. The sun would touch it in the mornings by the angle of the light, how nice was that? I put the tiny joy in my little dirt spot, covering it tenderly. Getting a mouthful of water, I watered it gently as I could. Who knew, it might grow there. I always loved morning glories. I even took some to Cobweb D… I stopped, slumping a little. Sighed.
I reached the doorway, glancing over at the wall opposite to my bed. The magic circle was gone. Of course it was. I’d been dreaming at the time. Decayed shadow mares breaking into prisons to give me flower seeds didn’t make any sense. So where had it come from? Maybe a bird lost it in the breeze, I decided, and it fell into my cell window. It was just luck. I stepped out, “You COMING?!”
“Ah!” I reeled.
“Oop, sorry,” Proto Star smirked, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I hear they’re doing hash browns today, better hop to it if you want any!” he trotted off. I wondered, not for the first time, how Proto Star seemed to know about stuff before it happened in the cell block.
Sure enough, hash browns and eggs for breakfast.
Since the daytime was sort of free-roaming in the cell block, I stuck to a table alone with some art supplies. We couldn’t have pencils, pens or anything that could be made into a weapon. So crayons and such would have to do. I wasn’t much of an artist, really, but it felt therapeutic to draw what I’d seen in my nightmares.
Had she had a horn? Wings? A long tail? I couldn’t remember. All I could focus on was the face. The dripping black slime. I decided on a portrait. I sighed over it, distressed. Nopony bothered me, thank goodness. I just didn’t want to be noticed around here, and the lack of folks talking to me felt good.
“Hey new guy! We need one more for cards, do… you… wanna… oh,” Proto Star stopped next to me. He leaned over the drawing, his smile slowly falling. “Cypher! Cypher!” He turned, shouting across the room. “CYPHER! Stop braiding that guy’s mane! Get over here!” he motioned wildly. Uh oh. I looked up to see a short, horn-rimmed glasses sort of stallion approach. He reared up when Proto Star gestured so he could see too.
“Oh boy,” he said softly, turning to study my face with a haunted expression. “Not seen her in almost a year. I was sure she was gone.” He pushed his glasses up his muzzle.
“Yah,” Proto Star said, delicately taking my artwork like it might burst into flames at any moment. “I’ll get the proper pony.”
“Hey!” I said, not bothering to get up.
“When did you see her?” Cypher wanted to know. I studied him. Archeological symbols dotted his flank in a three-part cutie mark. “What did she say?!” he demanded, growing angry at my silence.
“Who?!” I said, leaning away from him.
“The dead mare!” he lowered his voice to whisper. A few eyes flicked our way. A few ponies moved away to other activities. “The mare you drew. You saw her here, right?” Cypher wanted to know.
I slowly nodded. “Twice,” I whispered. “Once in max-sec, once here in min-sec.”
Cypher put his hooves to my shoulders, “I know you don’t know me, and I know you don’t got any reason to do what I say, but hear me out.” He leaned until we were almost muzzle to muzzle. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Wh-what is it?” I whispered.
“Here we are,” Proto had come back with another stallion, a huge barrel-chested one. “Brick Boulder here has the Chronicle.” With a silent nod, the huge tattoo’d stallion surrendered a book that was bound with tape and dental floss. It was a shabby thing, kind of pathetic to look at. He grunted at Proto, who paid him a cigarette before he was away.
“We’ll add yours but you listen to me,” Cypher said softly. My drawing was brought forward, and the book flipped open. “You don’t talk to this mare,” he flipped pages, showing me black stick figures. Some of them had huge bat wings. Others had impossibly long horns on either side of its head. “You don’t look at this mare.” Crude drawings that were meant to be the magic circle I’d seen dotted the landscape on every page. “You don’t do what she says. You don’t take anything from her either.” He added my drawing to the last page. A portrait with wormy teeth, dripping with black goo.
“Who is she?” I whispered desperately. “What does she want?”
“I dunno. No one does. But it always spells trouble. More than one prisoner’s hung himself to get away from her. They say she causes accidents. Y’know. Hallucinations and things to make you kill yourself in here.” Cypher called over another random stallion, paid him five cigarettes, and the book was hidden away once more. It changed guardians every time it was brought out, it seemed. “The guards don’t believe us, they never see her. Just us prisoners.”
“Is she a… a ghost or…?”
“If only,” Cypher shook his head. “Just… just don’t have anything to do with her new guy, okay? For your own good. Don’t look at her, don’t talk to her, don’t take anything from her, don’t do nothin’.” The stallion looked about, then back at me. “Once she’s got ‘hold of you, that’s it.” The guards were studying us from their lookout station high above. Cypher coughed and was quickly away.
Proto sat down across from me, offering a rather fake looking smile like he was sitting to talk. When the guards turned away, he frowned again. “She hasn’t… given you anything, has she?” he said in all seriousness. “It’s too late by then, story goes.”
“N-no, of course not,” I said. “I’ve only seen her twice, she hasn’t given me anything.”
“Twice is twice too many,” Proto said, coughing a bit and trying to change the subject. “C’mon. Let’s introduce you to a few ponies so you’re not the hermit of min-sec, neh?” he offered a smile. I returned it, still shaken. “Get your mind off things.”
When I returned to my cell at dusk, the seed I’d planted had become a long, green strand of morning glories. It hung from the ceiling almost to the floor, covered with flowers. Morning glories don’t bloom at dusk, though. And they don’t bloom black either. “Buck… me…” I whispered, running my hooves over them. Before my eyes, the entire vine turned to ash and vanished.
“So tell me,” Proto Star asked. “Have you considered your tattoo yet? Everypony has at least one in here, even in minimum security.” He took a drag of his cigarette. It only then occurred to me that Proto was burning the prison-equivilant of money.
“Tattoo?” I looked back at my flank, a vial with two separated liquids in it. Oil Base, get it? Like a salad dressing seperates itself if you let it sit too long.
“No not that one, an inside mark,” He turned a hoof over to show me his ankle. On it, hidden in the short fur was an unmistakable tattoo. A playing card. “I got the nine of diamonds.” He smirked proudly.
“Does that mean something?” I asked.
“I keep forgetting you’re new and don’t have any intel on how prison life really works. Just got into the gen-pop.” He studied my puzzled expression. “Ugh! General Population! The ponies in here like us!” he took a drag, coming down off the table and sitting next to me. “You’re new and you’re interesting to talk with, so I’ll give ya a crash course. But anything past that you gotta pay like everyone else.” He gestured to the breast pocket of his neon orange vest. It bulged with cigarettes. “Tattoos can tell ya a lot about a pony in prison.” He peered around for a moment, looking for an example. He nodded and I followed his gaze. “That guy over there, see the teardrop on his face?” I nodded. “A hollowed out tear-drop shape means that one of his buddies was killed. A black, filled-in one would mean he’d killed somepony.”
“But they don’t keep murderers in min-sec, do they?” I looked away when said stallion glanced our way.
Proto nodded that I was right. “Card suites can tell you even more. Numbers tell status, and suites tell types of ponies. I, for example, am the nine of diamonds in these parts.” He smirked again with pride, but then remembered I had no idea what he was talking about. “Ahem!” he took a drag, thinking for a bit to put it in words. “Diamonds,” he turned his hoof over again to show me the tattoo he had, “Are reserved for stool pigeons, informants, and information trackers.”
“You sold somepony out?” I whispered.
“There was a drug ring, I’ll not make any excuses,” he said, steepling his hooves and looking to one side. “They were moving more filly-weed then you can possibly imagine, even on major roads and major cities.”
“And you told on them? What happened?” I whispered.
“I found out one day,” his eyes saw the past as he spoke, “That sometimes ‘filly-weed’ just meant fillies.” His brow lowered angrily. “They caught over eighty ponies and other creatures because of me, and freed over a hundred little ones.” I opened my mouth to eagerly praise him, but he held up a hoof, “But that didn’t keep me from landin’ in here. Just got me a reduced sentence.”
“How long…?”
“Nine years. This is about half-way through, I think,” he rolled his eyes a little. “Anyhoo! I got a tattoo, ehhhh a little forcefully,” he admitted. “As the five of diamonds. An informant that shouldn’t be trusted lightly. Somepony that could blab to the guards, sell you out, or some such. But,” he paused for a drag, “Four years is a good amount of time to build up a good rep among the guys in here. They tell me things, I tell them things, and I sell information as I see fit.”
“I see…” I said slowly, not sure if I liked this guy anymore.
“Anyhoo!” he coughed a little, then took out a well-worn deck of cards. He passed them back and forth like we were going to play crazy eights. “Diamonds are for info. That’s me.” He put the nine of hearts in front of himself. “Spades are for thieves. Rapers like you fit into this category as well.” He smirked when I scowled angrily at him. “Yeah yeah, you didn’t do it, keep spinnin’ that tale.” I thought he’d believed me before, now I wasn’t sure. “Stealin’ sex is still thievery in the cards,” he put the two of spades in front of me. “One for you, and one for each victim you’ve had. Anyhoo,” he shuffled the deck rather impressively, back and forth. “Clubs are for criminals in general. Destroyers, fighters, drunk and disorderlies, that sort of stuff. It’s the lowest suite.” He turned over the three of spades, leaving it to one side.
“And hearts?” I asked.
Proto grinned and shook his head, “You don’t want a heart, trust me,” he flung the seven of hearts from the deck and it spun on the shiny metal table. “It means you’re looking for a companion. An empty one for looking, and a filled one for… well… receiving.” He let the air quotes hang for a bit.
“…Oh,” I said carefully. I picked up the two of spades.
“So now let’s hear the obvious question.” He let me study his tattoo for a time.
“You were the five of diamonds, why are you the nine now?” I mumbled, leaning to see that four of the diamonds inked into his skin were newer than the others.
“I inherited the other four.”
“From who?”
“From the pony that saw your ghost mare last. He hung himself with his bedsheet.” Proto Star gestured to a bent rail high on the third level of the cells. I turned to look, mouth a little agape. “Some mix of seniority and bad luck.”
“So you got his four diamonds?” I asked.
“Mhm,” he said. “And when I get out, all nine will be up for grabs. Whoever the worst tattle tale in the place is, or whoever gets here with charges similar to mine, will inherit them.”
“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t know all this was so… intricate,” I said, looking around for other tattoos. “Was there ever a ten of diamonds?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Proto smiled a little grimly. There was an awkward silence and I suddenly felt like I’d spoken a taboo. “Ehhhh tens, no matter the suite, don’t tend to last very long, if you know what I mean.” He ran a hoof across his neck in a line.
“You mean you were one grade below a…?”
“A dead pony, yah. Tens are basically targets on your chest.” He shuddered a little.
“Even hearts?” I asked.
“Even hearts,” he nodded. “Even in prison living as a slut doesn’t tend to end well.” I snickered before I could stop myself. This seemed to raise the mood. “Anyhoo! Just saying you should consider something. If you’re gonna be here for, what’d you say, five years? You’re basically a walking canvas right now. Best label yourself before somepony else does it for you.”
I picked up the two of spades, looking warily down at it. “But I didn’t…” I mumbled, ears slowly splaying sideways.
“Whether you did it or not, think on it,” Proto rose when somepony he knew passed by. “If ponies can’t identify what you are, they’ll try to take advantage of you. One way, or another.” He made an obscene gesture, laughed, and was away. I sat there with his deck of cards, staring bleakly at the one he’d assigned me.
It would be over a week later before I got to the proper pony to put the ink on my left shoulder. Two of spades. The thief’s suit. The raper’s suit. Love stealer. Even if it wasn’t true, it seemed to lower the suspicion of others around me. Whether I was innocent or not, I’d become one of them.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I’d been in min-sec perhaps three weeks when the next ‘sighting’ occurred. I’d come to call them sightings after talking with Cypher enough. He was very clinical, very analytical about our she-ghost. And while plenty of obscene jokes and innuendos went around when there was mention of a mare in our midst, there was dead seriousness when it came to her being real or not. Enough prisoners had seen her, even the lone griffon among us gave a solemn nod (he was mute) when asked.
But what I did expect was another direct visit. Don’t take anything from her, they’d told me. I already had. I’d scratched the royal seal of Celestia on my wall with my crayon, hoping to ward her away. The wax melted and dribbled down like raindrops, and I knew she was there, late one night. The almost-full moon cast a beam across my room, just enough to see it happening.
“The light,” she husked softly. She melted from the floor, up the wall, and rested on the ceiling. “Put out the light…” she whispered.
“Who’s there?” I whispered, though I knew perfectly well.
“Put out the light!” she hissed like a screeching cockroach, startling me. My bedframe hopped, clanging on the stone floor. I leapt from the bed before it bucked me out. Taking my bedsheet before she made any more noise and got me in trouble, I stuffed it up into the window . The bars held it there, blotting out the silvery moonlight.
“There,” I whispered, putting my butt against the corner and looking around. “Where are you? What do you want with me?” I had to get as much info as I could to report to Cypher. If she could give answers, maybe we could figure her out. A long, black tendril of molten goo splattered onto my shoulder. I shrieked, leaping onto the bed to furiously rub it off. It was like hot candle wax! Pushing back the hot tears and holding myself, I tumbled to the floor. My eyes looked upward, and even today I pray they hadn’t. My ceiling was gone, buried under a layer of upside down boiling decay. Black, tar-like bubbles issued back and forth, the hint of bone and bodies under it. A long, horse-like muzzle pierced the blackness, then sank again. I covered my eyes with a loud whimper, turning and curling up into a ball. I heard more ropes of the stuff coming down around me, making an unholy cave of midnight, sloppy pillars. “Wh-what do you want?!” I cried over the hissing, acidic sounds as it ate through my floor and molded my bed into oblivion.
“You said you were innocent,” a slow voice burbled. I looked about. There was no mouth to have said the words. “Wouldn’t you rather be imprisoned for something you’d actually done?”
“I-I don’t understand!” A loud slorping sound produced a shiny, metallic pod. It burst on my bed like a wet balloon, producing… Cobweb Dew. I froze in place, for she moaned and turned over pathetically. She coughed slop, a black chunky nothingness coming out over the wall. Her tail had been shorn close to her butt, leaving pretty much everything on display. Despite my horror my stallionhood thrilled out into the open. “C-Cobweb?” I whispered.
She flinched when she heard my voice. “O-Oil Base?!” she said. “What’s happened?! Where are we?!” Like an apocalyptic jello mold the darkness rushed up and over the bars of my cell, filling the space between them. We were plunged into darkness absolute before a tendril turned up my firefly lantern. No escape. No window. No moonlight. Just the bare shape of two ponies and the slimy oblivion around them.
“Jail,” I said softly. “S-sort of,” I amended. She looked around in horror. The dripping, decaying, bubbling madness around us could not have been real… but it was. I felt myself walking forward.
“Aren’t you angry about what she’s done to you?” a little voice whispered in my ear. “Don’t you think it’s such a crime that she’s walking free and you’re not?”
“Wh-who is that?!” Cobweb cried. Long tendrils fastened her, facedown and rump up, into the bed. Or what was left of it, really. My penis throbbed at the very idea. Not like there were any mares around here anyway. Now here was one on a silver platter.
“I loved you, and you betrayed me,” I whispered softly, a large hoof caressing her shapely rump. I’d mounted her enough times before to know all the secret spots. She whimpered, blubbering softly into the slime she lay in. I reared up a bit, she beneath me.
“Take her!” the little voice egged. “Take her like the filthy whore she is! She put you in jail for this, at least make it true!” A slickened, oily appendage stroked me a few times. I groaned, hunching over the horrified mare until I could take no more. “She’s all yours, Oil Base! All yours!”
With a loud crack, I spanked her ass and threw her aside, out of the bed. “Run home to Daddy you bitch!” I cried, tears suddenly sprouting. “You! You! Whoever you are!” I rushed to the window frame, grasping the bedsheet with my teeth and hooves. “Leave! Me! Alone!” I thrust it down and the moonlight lanced into the room like a holy sword.
The shadowy thing screeched, boiling away like so much water. The pillars of slime bent away as though in pain, sparkling and cracking until they were no more. Cobweb Dew burst from existence in a shower of black sparks. My bed grooooooaned back into its normal shape. The black jello barrier melted away from the bars of my cell. “Leave me alone! Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!”
I awoke on a dry, well-made bed. The pillow was wet, as though I’d been weeping in my sleep. “Hey man, you up or not? You been moaning in your sleep.” Proto Star was in my doorway. “Somepony heard a rumor there might be jelly beans with lunch today! Neat huh! It must be a holiday or something outside!” he grinned, shoving my shoulder and checking himself in the mirror. “Better get up so a guard doesn’t have to get you up!” he was out of my cell and gone before I could call out to him. I looked down to slowly swing my hooves to the floor.
The magic circle was back, on my floor. I watched it hiss angrily out of existence. It had been three feet across that time. I held my aching, bloodshot eyes. “No…” I whimpered a little. “I’m so dead… I’m so dead…” I felt myself rocking back and forth a little. “Next nightfall, she’s gonna be pissed… so dead… so dead…”
Two candles, three matches, a pewter holy symbol, a half-full salt-shaker and a piece of chalk. I’d rather not share what I had to do to acquire these items. Let’s just say I’m intimately familiar with how to braid a stallion’s tail, now, and leave it at that. Shower rituals in prison can get a little complicated. But I did what I had to do. Self-preservation can be a strong motivator, even for a normal guy like me.
My tattoo itched while I watched the sun slowly set. I started clumsily drawing. Having plain cement walls made it easy, and the meager rug was easy to roll up and put to one side. Being a former bookstore owner I’d read enough books on ufo’s, occult, and other controversial subjects to know a thing or two about driving away evil spirits. I’m no unicorn, but some symbols and such pass racial and species borders. I drew the seven-pointed star of Discord (warding) just outside the threshold of my cell. Then Celestia’s Triangular Wings (holy ground) above the window. Luna’s Blessing Cross (let no shadow fall upon the dweller) over my bed. I lit a candle and let the wax melt. Mixed the salt in. Then put two blobs, one on either side of my cell doorway (repel ghosts). When that was spent I used the rest of the salt to draw a line across my doorway (keeps those of ill intent from entering), and one across the cill of the window (keeps fell winds and black spirits out). Yeah I’m drawing from like six different cultures here but fuck you, you weren’t the one about to die come nightfall. It didn’t hurt to be thorough.
The sun slid over the horizon just as I was finishing. “Hey uhhh,” Proto Star had appeared in my doorway, rather late for a visit. “You okay, man?” His eyes flicked around and his ears splayed. “It’s her isn’t it? The Dead Mare?” His air of joking was gone and he looked around, rather haunted.
“I took something from her,” I admitted, looking to one side. “A seed. A morning glory seed. I didn’t know.”
“She’s comin’ for you, then?”
“Tonight,” I nodded slowly.
“Anything you wanna tell me?” he offered, like somepony extending a quill for last words before death.
“You think I’m dead, huh?”
“I think you’re at about the same stage as the last stallion who killed himself was, by the looks,” he gestured about the room to all my wards and symbols.
“Not gonna wish me good luck?”
“Nopony beats her, Oil Base,” Proto said, pausing to light a cigarette. He sighed, then stared at my apologetically. “Sorry.”
“Heh, well, send my crayons to a good artist then,” I snorted, turning to return to my work. If a symbol was drawn bigger, would it be more powerful in its effects? I didn’t know, I couldn’t remember what I’d read on that particular subject.
“Listen, I tried to warn you!” He started forward, but paused in the threshold. He seemed to think better of it. “Just don’t kill yourself, neh? We’ve had enough blood in this prison.” He turned from me, trailing white smoke behind him. “See you in the morning. Hopefully.” My eyes flicked down. He’d not passed over my salt line. Coincidence? Prolly.
=-=-=-=-=
Night wore on, the silvery moon blessedly lighting my room from the open, barred window. The cool night air was comforting, not too nippy just yet this time of year. I sat on my bed, on my haunches. I’d long since given up my whimpering and panting. I was a rat in a cage, it’s not like I could go hide somewhere. If I was gonna face something THAT horrific, at least I could face it like I had a pair. It didn’t keep my from pressing my pewter holy symbol tight against my chest. Prolly bruised myself. It hurt a little, but the pain took my mind off it. My head throbbed with stress and worry.
Then I heard the light hoof steps. “Herrrre she comes…” I mumbled, slowly standing up. I clip-clopped quickly into the shaft of moonlight and stayed there. Moonlight had driven her back once, perhaps it would shield me again. I’m not stupid.
“Bold statements, for one so unanoited,” A voice whispered in my ear. I flinched, whirling one way and then the other. “My my, covered all of our gods haven’t we? Discord… Celestia… Luna… even a little zafrican. I’m touched you thought so highly of me, you ungrateful little pimple.” I finally chanced a look at the ceiling. It rippled like a chilled winter pond, the cement moving impossibly like a disturbed pond. I knelt down onto my belly, clutching the pewter necklace to my chest. Then the hyperventilating started. A slender, muzzle poked free from the impossibility above me. It dripped gray onto my face, wet and slick like a newborn foal. It smiled lightly with black shark teeth. “I try to bring you a gift and you just throw it in my face…” she melted from the ceiling into the corner, grey and dull like a nightmarish garden statue. The eyes, there were no eyes. Only black voids with little white pinpricks of light.
“The power of Luna compels you!” I shouted, showing her the holy symbol, a slender mare draped sleepily over the moon. The bizarre creature snorted, walking a slow circle about me. She tested the moonlight and cracks went up her leg. She pulled quickly from it, hissing. “The power of Luna COMPELS you!” I shouted again, waving my little lump of metal at her. She hissed, turning her head until it was upside down. The crackling, snapping bones and spine were audible and she grinned impishly until her head was right-side up again. “The power of Luna COMPELS YOU!” I shrieked, my voice breaking.
“Why swear by the moon-bearing bitch, neh?” she grumbled. “Tainted saint you think she is?!” She gave a light flick of her head and my bed LAUNCHED itself across the room. I yelped when the metallic frame slammed into my and pinned me to the wall. My sink ripped from the wall and began to spout water all over the floor. My mirror exploded, sending shards everywhere. The toilet began to regurgitate foulness, bubbling and threatening. I groaned, pressing hard at the bedframe. It swore and shrieked until it closed in half around me like a venus fly trap.
“The power of Luna compels you,” I sputtered as it closed around my ribs. “The power of Luna com… compels you,” it was getting harder and harder to breath. My earth pony strength strained against the unnatural might closing in around me. Finally I could take no more and a barren scream of agony flew free.
“Last chance, my little pony,” she whispered, suddenly nose to nose with me.
“What?! Last chance at what?!” I squirmed desperately. Cracks were going up my walls, spraying shards of concrete everywhere. The foul water burst free like a guyser from my plumbing. Why wasn’t anypony waking up?! Why wasn’t anypony helping me?! “Who are you?! What do you want?!” I cried desperately. “Anything! Anything please! You’re hurting me so ba-ha-had!” I was weeping by then.
“Let me in,” she whispered, cupping my chin. “Let me in,” she said again, a black vapor issuing from her mouth. “Or I’ll crush your tiny little body and you die here. Die in this insignificant little sub-world you call a life.” Her teeth clenched so hard her black, mishappen teeth were vibrating her cheeks.
“Anyth-i-i-i-i-ing!” I begged, and the shadow came unto me, rushing into my mouth and ears and nose. The bed crashed to the opposite wall, blowing away all the salt I’d laid down. Celestia’s Wings burned from my wall and the magic circle I’d seen so many times ignited across the floor in molten fire.
“At… la-a-a-a-a-st!” a little voice whispered in my head like a smug snake. I staggered hard as the beast forced its way in and in and in. I gagged as her body turned to vapor, rushing into my body like a phantom wind. I rushed until I hit a wall, then rushed again until I hit another wall. I scorched myself under the beam of moonlight, rushing up under the window sill.
“WhAT’s HAPenning To ME?!” It was a voice that was not my own. I snapped my head about, looking in what remained of the mirror. Then my spine snapped. I cried out doggishly, hunching over myself. My body was splitting open. “StOP! Stop IT”! I gagged blood as twin appendages began to force themselves from my back. Boney and slick with blood and birth, they threw lines of red on the walls. Was I being possessed?! No! NO! No it couldn’t be! My fur was reddening, then blackening, like I was being burned alive. I coughed wildly, hunching back and forth and holding hoof-fulls of my mane. I got a single breath of air, only to waste it on a full-throated scream of terror.
The door! The door! I crashed into it with all my desperation and the cell door came free. The railing greeted me, shiny and inviting. It was three stories down to the cafeteria floor. The cylinder shape of the prison would let gravity end my agony. With the last of my strength and adrenaline, I thrust myself over the railing.
I glanced left, not wanting to watch the hard cement rush up at me. Proto Star stood on the second floor, watching me go with horror. I glanced right. In slow motion, a guard was rushing from his post. He was nowhere near close enough to stop me.
I hit the pav—wait.
“That’s far enough. I have you now,” An authoritative female voice said to one side of me. The world had stopped. The guard frozen in place. Proto Star throwing his cigarette to one side in his fear. The lit paper thing spun in the air, defying gravity.
A slow, deliberate walk of hooves approached me. Echoed all around me. The world seemed to be like cardboard. Lifeless nothingness, just joking at what it was supposed to be. A slow, massive hoof stroked my cheek. “You’ve suffered enough. All I need now is—!” Another massive hoof took my shoulder. A cried out as smoke, ash, and darkness rushed out of my lungs I gagged, dripping spit onto the floor a few inches below me. I was lowered to the ground in a heap. The skeletal wings were gone. A long, nightmarish black horn had fallen from my like a baby tooth. It rolled away and cracked, turning to ash. “There’s no escape this time, Nightmare.”
It was none other than Princess Luna standing over me, holding a sphere of what could only be described as a nightmare in her hoof. It roiled with a dozen razor-toothed mouths, eyeballs of all shapes, anuses and roiling fleshy bits. It fought and squirmed, but she held it fast in a sphere of her divine power. “P…. Princess Luna?” I wondered airily, staring up at her.
“Wake! You must wake!” she said quickly. The world came apart around me and… and…?
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Turn off the audio, we will speak with him now.” A voice said. The beeping halted as the world swam in my vision. “Oil Base. Oil Base…? Can you hear me, stallion?” The dark blue, feminine features of the Princess of the Night slowly came into focus. To one side of her was a black, ornate chest lined with deadbolts, locks, and magical seals. It vibrated and shook where it was. She saw where I was looking, then smiled patiently. “All will be explained, but I must know, are you okay?”
“What happened…?” I husked, pulling off an oxygen mask. “Where’s the prison?”
“Prison?” Luna puzzled for a moment. “My little pony, you’ve never gone to prison.” She stroked my brow, thanking a doctor as I was unhooked from many a strange device.
“Of course I have,” I mumbled, groggy and unstable.
“Please, lay back,” she gestured. I did, staring at her. There was an awkward silence. “Pray smile, stallion, when you look upon your savior.” She said coyly, touching my shoulder. I blinked twice. “You… don’t remember anything, do you?” she said slowly.
I shook my head, “I was in my cell,” I told her. “And the last thing I remember was you pulling some kind’a… spirit, out of me.”
“The Nightmare, yes,” Her Majesty gestured to the hopping, thrashing chest next to her. She gestured lightly, and a rather large Night Guard stallion sat upon it. The chest growled lightly, but moved no more. “How is his head?”
“He’ll be in here a few more days, but otherwise I think he’ll be fine now that he’s awake,” The doctor smiled. “You gave use quite a scare, coming in here with your head half-cracked open.”
“Wh… what? I don’t understand,” I said, sagging against my pillow.
Princess Luna came and sat next to me, a little less formal now that the chest of nightmares had been seen to. “I repeat again, my little pony, you never went to prison.”
“But I did! I was there for weeks and weeks!” I said. “Solitary! Then Min-Sec! I had friends! And bullies to look out for!” I looked around and she raised a hoof to stop me.
“Please, I will help explain. Do you remember what happened that night in Cobweb Dew’s chambers?” She asked. I screwed up my face at the painful memory. I’d told Proto Star and the Dead Mare about it too:
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the guards, and the judge, and the jury, and Cobweb Dew’s father. We started… seeing each other, you know, off to the side. When nopony was looking we would sneak notes and kisses. One night she invited me into her family manor. So I came in through a window. She helped me in and we slept together. Or we were, rather. Her father came in and she panicked. He got me pretty good with a wooden chair, and she said I was a… a…”
Luna stopped me. “Neigh, I can assure you, about the guards, judge, jury, and father,” she said. “When Lord Mountain Dew struck you over the head he… well… put you into a coma. You never rose from the blow.”
“Wh… what?” I said. “Then the trial? The dungeon? The solitary confinement? The weeks and weeks of living among other prisoners…?”
“Your mind rebuilding itself,” Luna said, tapping my forehead with a hoof. “I’ll give you no sugarcoats, there was a rape investigation.” She paused to sigh. “But when the details started not making sense Cobweb Dew was exposed as a liar and her father charged with assault. Both are serving jail time beneath our very hooves in the dungeon-belly of Canterlot. Six months for he, and four and a half years for her.”
“Four and a half years?”
“Nine years is the standard sentence for rape in Equestria,” Luna sniffed, looking at me. “Tiz only fair for one falsely pointing the hoof at a stallion or mare to be punished at least half as hard. Sometimes more.”
“I… I see,” I mewled, rubbing my aching eyes. This was all happening so fast… so fast… “What about Proto Star? The Dead Mare? The others?”
“Sometimes dreams rub up against each other. If there are coma victims out there that shared a very similar idea of where they think they should be… they may share the same dreamscape. Your prison, for example,” Luna said gently. “As for your Dead Mare,” she gave a huff and stood. “May I introduce The Nightmare, inspiration for the creature you call Nightmare Moon.” She patted the locked chest twice and it snarled angrily.
“What...?” I whispered.
“She dwells where she can, between this world and the next, whispering at any who can hear her,” Luna scowled at the container. “And who better to reach out to than an innocent prisoner, bound in his own waking nightmare, laying defenseless in a coma?”
I nodded slowly that I understood. “S-so Cypher? Proto Star? Everypony…?” I trailed off.
"Not real, dear stallion," Luna shook her head slowly, offering me a gentle smile.
