> The town of lost souls > by rainbowcrasherloops > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Escape > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It all happened so quickly, the murder itself, the agonizing scream, the moments of unbearable terror hiding from the police, the eventual arrest, the death sentence. And yet here you were, on a train, counting the minutes until all the agony ended. (Play the music until you see the next brackets) As Ponyville faded out of view, you tried to reminisce about your life, but it was just too depressing. All those moments of joy and friendship, the adventures, the memories. It was just too agonizing to think about them, especially given that they turned against you after... the incident happened. As your hoof hit the ground, you shivered as you were reminded of the judge's hammer and it's cruel life-destroying thud. However, just faintly, you heard the rattle of a can. You wearily picked it up, only to find it was silly string. (Stop the music) Attached was a note from Pinkie: It'll all be just fine. Escape is always possible, I mean, seriously, some alleged murder is put in a cart without handcuffs??? That's just silly. You did the right thing, and it was what we all needed. Smile Smile Smile, Pinkie. xx And then the thought occurred to you, what if you could escape??? As the train drove over a vertigo-inducingly tall bridge right over glistening green waters, you decided it was worth it. You rapidly sprayed silly string at all the not-so-subtle security cameras scattered around your train carriage with a demented grin on your face, then threw the can at the window to smash it, making a thumping sound, not a tinkling crashing sound for some odd reason. However those ugly moustached police-ponies were alerted, so you decided to jump out of the window before they bashed you up with their fabulous batons. The fall wasn't the worst bit, but rather the fear. The fear of dying from a brutally cracked bone, or worse, the fear of dying out in the desolate desert. But as you landed with a resounding KERSPLOOSH you didn't have to worry about the former. You gently drifted along the river until you reached dry land. At first you galloped at a triumphant speed, but after half an hour, it became apparent you weren't going anywhere. So you slowed down, legs keeling down, vision getting blurry, eyelids shutting. The last thing you saw was a bottle of water... WAIT,WHAT??? As you drank the water, all of a sudden you became invigorated. Not just invigorated, no, but positively bursting at the seams with energy!!! (Play the music below) And just like that, you ran at that triumphant speed again, whooping with delight, feeling like Clint Eastwood and Chuck Norris rolled into one epic pony of ultimate bad-assery. Yes it was just water, but it tasted like the sweetest, neigh, the most divine drink in the world!!! Indeed, if someone were to ask you what your favorite drink in the world was, you wouldn't hesitate to say that water. Above all, it was hope, and freedom. Eventually the landscape became a blur, yellows and oranges and occasional greens blending to make something that looked like some divine impressionistic art in motion. The only thing that looked solid was a brown signpost. If only you could get closer to read it... BAM!!!! As you got up, you saw the name in all-encompassing black letters: APPLEOOSA. And then you heard a enthusiastic voice. "Hey There!!!" > What's your story??? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Soon enough, you found out where the source that voice was. It was from a handsome colt (no homo, you) with a hat and a waistcoat and just divine hair... (STOP IT YOU!!!) "So, did you come for Appleoosa???" he asked in a more serious tone of voice. You nervously nodded. "Well, I shall let you in, but the question is, what's your story???" You knew at one point you'd have to face your demons, but this... was too early, too forced, too rushed. Still, you wouldn't dare to lie, even if it meant death. "OK, here it goes, but it sure as hay ain't a happy one. This story begins straightforward enough. I was one of the few ponies aware of the whole changeling thing before the royal wedding. And, by jove, they were everywhere. Their tell-tale sign was always that little flicker. So, at the age of 13, I became a changeling hunter. Know you might think that all of the changelings got swept away with that love wave, but no, that didn't happen. I still spotted a few afterwards" After a deep breath, you continued, but more slowly, stuttering regularly. "My luck became sour when I was after this changeling disguised as Roseluck. She'd been flickering less, but a flicker is a flicker. So I grabbed her into an alley and attempted to decapitate her with a slice of my electrocuted sword. Now normally this'd cut through their neck like a hot knife through margarine, but something was off. She was initially changeling form, but as she was dying, she changed back into Roseluck with the last of her strength. All of a sudden, blood sprayed everywhere, and I heard a shrill, ear-slicing scream. I ran, dropping the sword. I hid under Pinkie's Bakery, but unfortunately, the rest of the elements of harmony made her spill the beans. And if you know this country's legal system, you'll know the rest" "Welcome to the herd" replied Braeburn, returning to his enthusiastic demeanour. "But... I... Killed.... Somepony...." you said, practically shiverring. "A changeling is not a pony, they are a soul-destroying demon designed to steal love for breakfast. So what if they changed back into a pony??? A changeling is a changeling"Braeburn said sternly. "Brohoof???" you asked, to which you were replied with an earth-shattering THWOMP and an irritating throbbing hoof. "Have you met the townsfolk yet???" Braeburn said as you rode of into the sunset in a totally non-romantic way.