Pony Horror Thread #4, welcome back Nurse Redheart Edition.

Reposting from - >>29956299

Nurse Redheart cheerfully trotted through the halls of the East wing, making her way to Screwy’s cell. She had managed to make time to visit Screwy, what with most of the patients being moved to the West wing, she had a lot of extra time, and talking with Screwy could be said to be part of her treatment, so it wasn’t like Redheart wasn’t working.
She walked up to the lone occupied room on the second floor of the hospital, and slid open the window to check up on Screwy. Screwy had probably been napping, because she was bounding across the floor toward the door. There was a clang as she collided with it, rattling it on its hinges.
“Bark! Bark bark!” Screwy yelped, hooves scrabbling at the door.
“Hello Screwy. How are you today?” Redheart asked.
“Yip!” Screwy said.
“Well, I suppose that sounds good. What shall we talk about today?” Redheart asked.
Screwy just sat down and looked up at the window with a smile on her face. She usually did. Redheart was just hoping that she would eventually get a response from her that was different from a dog’s bark. Even a cat’s meow or a bird’s chirp would indicate something different was going on. All it would take was perseverance, she was sure of it! So she talked, and Screwy listened.
The conversation was incredibly one-sided, and she didn’t stay much longer than a half hour, after which she went through her daily rounds, checking up on the few patients she had, then came back, spending more time with Screwy. She left her alone at night, but whenever Screwy was awake, she was there to chat with her about anything and everything, just to see how she might respond. Maybe one of her words would trigger some sort of reaction from the mare, and she’d have a breakthrough. It was worth a try.

>>29957311
Nurse Redheart tottered down the halls of Ponyville General. She’d spoken with Doctor Horse today, and once again she found herself back where she started, with a gap in her memory almost the full length of the meeting. She hadn’t learned anything new this time. At least, she didn’t think she had. She sifted through the massive body of knowledge that she had sitting in her brain, trying to find one she didn’t recognize. It was kind of scary having a brain full of knowledge that she didn’t remember gathering. It was like there was a different pony inside her that was using her as storage for all the medical knowledge she was gathering.
Nurse Redheart stopped as she contemplated the implications of that possibility. What would this other pony be like? Was she as kind and helpful as Redheart herself? Was she rude? Sweet? Cruel? The possibilities were endless, but if Doctor Horse, who must observe her during these moments, didn’t think there was anything wrong, she couldn’t be all bad, could she? She was at least good at surgery, that much was certain. Redheart looked down at her hooves and wondered how she performed all of these delicate operations without a horn. Was this other pony she became really that dexterous?
She was exhausted, but she wanted to visit Screwy before she took a rest. It had been hours since she’d stopped by, and Screwy would be expecting some sort of visit, even if it was just a hello.
The door to Screwy’s cell was just ahead, and she slowly came closer to it. She slid open the window and looked inside. Screwy was sitting there tossing a ball at the wall and catching it as it came back. Redheart wouldn’t normally think this a big deal, but Screwy was using her hoof instead of her mouth! This was incredible!
Screwy turned to look at Redheart. “Hello Nurse Redheart.”

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>>29957333
Nurse Redheart trotted down the halls of the East wing in the hospital in Ponyville. She was staying on the bottom floor because there was nopony in the upper sections at the moment. Most of the patients who required more strict care were in the West wing, and she was left caring for the day to day needs of stable patients with minor injuries that were well on their way to healing. She wandered down the hall, having taken care of everything, feeling fully rested after her normal fifteen-minute recharge break, and then stopped, feeling confused.
She was looking at the stairs leading up to the second floor. There was something she was forgetting, and she couldn’t for the life of her remember what it was. It had something to do with the second floor, but whenever she thought about it, she started to feel a sort of headache building up behind her eyes. She shook her head and went over her rounds again.
Redheart stood staring at the stairs up to the second floor again, some passing ponies giving her odd looks. There was something she was forgetting, and she couldn’t for the life of her remember what it was. It had something to do with the second floor, but whenever she thought about it, she started to feel a sort of headache building up behind her eyes. She shook her head and went over her rounds again.
Nurse Redheart shuffled back and forth in front of the stairs up to the second floor, shaking her head side to side in frustration. There was something she was forgetting, and she couldn’t for the life of her remember what it was. It had something to do with the second floor, but whenever she thought about it, she started to feel a sort of headache building up behind her eyes. She shook her head and went over her rounds again.

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>>29957344
Nurse Redheart is confused and a little scared.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/3rHxUihC

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>>29957361
And another image for five posts. Join in, write some, draw some, music some, just so long as it's scary, spooky, or spine-tingling.

>>29957388
I got a horror story.

My ex

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Well might as well post a picture inline with the theme.

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>>29957285
OP from the previous thread here. Sorry I'm late to the party, glad you made a new thread.
>>29957430
3spooky5me
>>29957444
Checked.

>>29957444
That looks like malpractice to me. I'm no doctor, but that doesn't look like standard issue medical equipment.

>>29957835
>Emergency response
>Whoops forgot my kit
>Improvise

>>29957835
Budget cuts

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Well here's some classic MLP horror period Then I'm pretty sure a good chunk of the fandom has forgotten its existence

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>>29958232
I fear a lot of people must have. It was fantastic at the time.

>>29957285
Horror threads suck without GIFs.

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>>29958735
It was a fun time, if my memory serves me correctly I think the story of the blanks actually predates even cupcakes. I could be wrong, so don't quote me on that

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>>29957361
Nurse Redheart walked slowly down the halls of of Ponyville General. She was feeling tired and listless, even though she’d been getting enough rest. She couldn’t remember the last time she left the hospital. No wonder she didn’t have a special somepony. Married to her work, that was her. Looked good, fit, hard worked, but no time for love. Only patients. She meandered in a wavy line down the hallway one direction, then the other, then back again, mumbling to herself. She was the only nurse down here, so she kept doing it until an orderly caught her and called Doctor Horse. He arrived quickly and stopped her.
“Nurse Redheart, what are you doing?” Doctor Horse asked her.
“Doing… my rounds…” She answered, unable to focus on his face.
“Not like this you’re not. What is causing you so much trouble?” He asked.
“I can’t remember.” She responded, finally focusing on his face.
“You don’t remember why you’re doing this?” He asked.
“No… I don’t remember a lot of things, and that’s why. I forgot something upstairs, I’m sure of – nnngh!” Her headache flared up again when she thought about upstairs.
“Ah. I see. Come with me, we’ll get you fixed up.” Doctor Horse said, and beckoned to her. She started following him, and they passed into the West wing where he led her to his office. He opened the door and motioned to her to come inside, but she stopped at the entrance.
If she went in there, she was certain she would forget something again. She might even come out with more knowledge that she didn’t remember gaining, and who knows; she might even be forgetting things important to her that are being replaced by this new knowledge! Her legs shook and she looked at Doctor Horse with fear.

>>29959716
“Come inside, Redheart. I can help you.” Doctor Horse said insistently.
“I’ve been forgetting things. Hours, sometimes a whole day! I wake up having lost so much time, and I don’t know where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing! In addition to that, I find that I’ve learned how to perform surgery that I don’t ever remember learning! What’s happening to me Doctor!” She wailed.
“Redheart please, come inside my office!” Doctor Horse insisted.
Ponies were stopping to stare, orderlies muttered behind her as they walked by, but none of them stopped. Nurses glared at her with hate in their eyes. Why did they hate her? What had she done? Was the reason she was stuck in the East wing alone because of what she did while she didn’t remember anything? Would she forget this as well?
Doctor Horse sighed and stepped out of his office, and Redheart tried to bring herself to back away, but couldn’t manage it. Her legs were locked in place, and she stared in fear, cowering in front of her boss. He reached out a hoof and-

Nurse Redheart tried to open her eyes, but she found she couldn’t, or wasn’t able to. She could hear voices, and they were talking, but she couldn’t see anything, and she couldn’t say anything. She could sort of feel something, but it wasn’t a very strong feeling. She tried to kick a hoof, but even though she strained and strained, nothing happened.
She’d heard of this before: Sleep paralysis. Fairly uncommon, but horrifying to those ponies it happened to, or so she’d heard. From what she’d read about it, it was when the brain wakes up, but the rest of the body has yet to be made aware, and so the pony experiencing it has hallucinations, both auditory and visual. She couldn’t see, but she could hear.

>>29959727
“…forgetting and complains about it?” A voice said. It was feminine, but muffled and distorted. A side-effect of the hallucination.
“Yes. It causes her visible distress, and impairs her work. I know you said she would be more useful, but the memory problems are causing significant difficulties.” That one was male, and she was pretty sure it was Doctor Horse despite the distortion. She was probably hallucinating her concerns from when she was awake. The subconscious mind is a curious thing.
“That’s not good. She shouldn’t have black spots in her memory at all. That wasn’t the intent. It was just supposed to help her improve, not erase anything. You say she still performs the operations flawlessly, despite not remembering?” The female voice said.
“Oh yes indeed. Performing above and beyond what you had promised. She picks it all up extremely quickly, and can emulate it on body shapes that are the same or different than what she observed. Truly skilled work, let me assure you. But outside of the operating room, her regular nurse duties are suffering tremendously.” Doctor Horse said.
“Indeed. That shouldn’t be the case at all… let me see.” The female voice said. Redheart heard shuffling noises, hoofsteps, and scraping sounds, and she was sure something was being moved, but she felt nothing at all.
“Oh! Oh dear.” The female said.
“What is it?” Doctor Horse said.
“I think the spell missed something.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she’s not fully out.”
“Oh! Oh dear indeed. Can you fix it?”
“I think so, let me just…”
“Isn’t it that part?”
“No, the one we want is over here.”
“Ah, of course.”
“Do you think she felt anything?”
“No, that’s active, but she probably heard us talking.”
“Oh that’s terrible!”
“Not at all, she’ll just wake up, and dismiss it as a dream. That’s the beauty of…”

>>29959736
Nurse Redheart experiences sleep paralysis?

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/3rHxUihC

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>>29959742
On a lark I looked for pony sleep paralysis images. Found this. Who knew?

>>29959742
Sleep paralysis, I've had that. Not fun at all

>>29957285
I still like horror porn.

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>>29959776

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>>29959807
Dude, I grew up with sleep paralysis. Still get it. Short story about it before bed:
>Be young Waxworks.
>Go to sleep.
>Lucid dream, sometimes fun, sometimes not.
>Wake up.
>Can't move.
>Man with no face in a bowler hat ala pic related next to my bed.
>Stares at me all night, right next to me while I can't move, even to put the covers over my head.
>Wet the bed from fear.
>He comes back almost every night for years.
>Learn about shadow people decades later.
>Hat Man shadow person is a thing the world over.
>Okay, but that does not make me feel any better about it, in fact, that makes it even creepier.

>>29959810
Found this thread's rutposter.

Go to sleep.

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>>29959742
Nurse Redheart trotted down the halls of the West wing, happily helping everypony that needed it. She was feeling absolutely wonderful now that she had spoken to Doctor Horse about her problems, and everything was okay now. She still had those blank spots in her memory, but she was confident that that would eventually come back, and Doctor Horse told her that despite all of that, she was a model surgeon, and he was happy to have her around. She didn’t even remember why she was so worried about it in the first place!
The day wore on, and Nurse Redheart stayed in the West wing like she had been asked. There was plenty to do, since this was where most of the patients were kept, ones that needed more immediate help, or had some form of higher trauma. Coworkers still gave her dirty looks when it seemed like she couldn’t see them, but that was a small problem, not a big one at all. She could deal with jealous coworkers. She just needed to keep working.
“…probably sleeping with…”
“…no she can’t, remember?”
“What good is…”
“…really? I would have thought…”
“…the East wing? Nopony likes…”
“…got bitten. Angry since she…”
“Screwy? Yeah. Much more.”
At hearing the name, Redheart felt a twinge of remembrance. There was somepony she was forgetting, and that name had something to do with it. That was a pony she had forgotten. What was it she had forgotten about them though? Redheart sifted through her memories, trying to find it, but kept coming up with surgery techniques instead. Most of her memories, she realized, were surgery techniques. She knew her own name, her workplace, her cot, medicine, and a map of the entire hospital, but she couldn’t remember much else. She couldn’t remember her family!

>>29962132
Nurse Redheart stood in the middle of the hall, trying to think of her family. Normal ponies have families, right? Right?! A mother, a father, maybe siblings, grandparents, a pet. She couldn’t remember any of it! Those were normal things, right? She should have those!
Somepony bumped into her with a gurney and glared at her.
“Oh look, Redheart is having a breakdown again. Somepony get Doctor Horse. Celestia I don’t know why he keeps her around.” Somepony said.
Doctor Horse… the name brought her back to herself as she remembered that dream from a few days ago. Her subconscious was telling her that Doctor Horse was the cause of these memory problems, and him showing up would only make things worse. She trotted quickly away and went upstairs and stood at the entrance to the East wing.
Screwy.
She’d forgotten something important over here to do with that pony, and she wanted to find out what it was. Screwy was… somewhere in the East wing, and had been… isolated? Quarantined? Hidden? She shook her head. Getting caught up thinking about it would be much less useful than simply investigating. She stood at the double doors that lead into the East wing… and just stood there staring.
She couldn’t bring herself to step through the doors. Doctor Horse had given her explicit instructions not to leave the West wing and he was her boss, after all. She should stay here and keep working, he’d come along and help out like he always did, and then she’d forget all about what had her so worried.
That wouldn’t fix anything though! She was losing her memories! All of them! Family, home, friends. Did she even have friends? She certainly didn’t have any anymore, not that she could remember. She didn’t know of a single pony beyond Dr. Horse that cared about her.

>>29962159
But Screwy might know. If it was so important that she forget about Screwy, why would she keep feeling like she needed to see her? Redheart looked at the door again, as if staring it down could make it open and give way. She lifted a hoof and willed herself to put it down just a little further ahead of the other one. Her hoof trembled in the air, shivering as she tried to force her brain to put it down without success. Why was this so hard? What was holding her back?
“Redheart, come here this instant!” Doctor Horse shouted from down the hall behind her.
At his voice, a chill went down her spine, and she knew she couldn’t let him catch up with her. Her hoof slammed down, and she barreled through the double doors, racing down the East wing.
“Redheart, stop this at once!” Doctor Horse yelled.
She couldn’t stop. She had to find out why she had been forced to forget Screwy, and why the name meant so much that she was trying to remember it. She was looking for something like a quarantine room, an isolation chamber, or… a cell.
Redheart stopped at the single cell door, locked from the outside, with the sliding window at the top where she could peek inside. This was it! She galloped over to it, slid open the window, and called out.
“Screwy! Are you here?” Redheart asked desperately.
There was silence, then a face, disheveled and dirty, popped up in front of her and a tongue stuck out through the bars.
“Woof!” Screwy said cheerfully.
Redheart’s spirits sank. She had been hoping for some profound yet ill pony who held all the secrets that were being kept from her. Romantic yet implausible scenarios had run through her mind that she would have found all the secrets of why her memory was going inside this room. Instead she found a pony acting like a dog. Why was this so important?

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>>29962166
Redheart makes her move, and is disappointed.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/3rHxUihC

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And suddenly it's 2011 in this thread

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>>29962794
>TFW you a newfag and couldn't experience anything before 2016

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>>29962174

>>29964090
Doesn't mean you can't go back and check out some of the older stuff. Although it may be true that the hay day for some of the stuff may be gone there's still some dedicated followings for things like cupcakes and rainbow factory out there.

>>29964395
>>29964090
Hell, if you haven't, go play Story of the Blanks right now. It's bloody amazing, and I would LOVE to hear a newbie's opinion on it.

>>29964090
>>29964481
I second that, Story of the Blanks was one of the best early projects in the fandom and really stressed one of my itches for old school NES games.

>>29964090
Oh and one more thing, this is kind of a personal bias but I would recommend checking out Pages of Harmony by Shadowed Rainbow. It's a gory but very well-researched and in my opinion underappreciated in the grimdark side of the fandom.

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>>29964481

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>>29958232
Naw boy I remember it well.

Maybe it's overrated but I always liked SotB. Wish there was more art related to a bad end if AB didn't make it out. Doesn't help that a lot of the stuff there is, I don't much care for. I want stuff that focuses on Applebloom becoming another corrupted thing of that village, her family's wonderings at where she went, Twilight's guilt, not

>Applebloom's a monster now but she's still Applebloom :(

crap. I always figured if those things caught Bloom she'd still be at the village, but beyond appearance she'd be dead and cease to exist outside the curse's will, like everybody else. That's better horror to me, what if someone stumbles across that place one day, Zecora maybe, or someone else that knew Applebloom? I could see a story ending there.

Went off on a bit of a tangent, but honestly I've been here for years and have barely seen anything of this game beyond a halfhearted post or two; this may be my only chance to post these thoughts.

And while we're on the topic of games
>tfw Silent Ponyville never fucking ever

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>>29966282
Wasn't there a Silent Ponyville game happening? You're post just tickled something in my head that's been dead for years. I think it was 3D and in the style of Legends of Equestria.

Also,
>mfw Silent Ponyville: Reunion just updated after a year and a half
It's probably my favorite fic in the Silent Ponyville Universe.

>>29966322
>>29966282
I have not yet read Silent Ponyville. I will do so. Thanks for the recommendation. Other than Reunion, which ones are the best on Fimfic?

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>>29966349
Read the original series and it's associated sidefics by Jake Heritagu or SamRose (whichever one he's going by right now).

The order goes:
Silent Ponyville
Too Shy For a Rainbow
Silent Ponyville 2
The Rainbow's Surprise
Silent Ponyville 3

The sidestories compilation he wrote exists separately from the main continuity, iirc.

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Bump

>>29966590
>You must read all the books, Twilight.

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>>29959810
Here you go: https://pastebin.com/55sKfRN5

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>>29962174
Big update tomorrow afternoon. Hope it turns out good.

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>>29967142

>>29966322
>>29966349
>>29966384
Did I just find a new fanfic universe to get lost in? I didn't know there was a Silent Hill crossover. I read Fallout Equestria fics all the time, just recently discovered Siren Song, a Bioshock crossover. I love crossovers if they are done well and not just a cheep pony version of the original. I'm going to start Silent Ponyville right now. Thanks guys!

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>>29967851
I haven't finished reading the first one yet, but it seems pretty good. Guess we'll see.

I just found my copy of Crybaby Lane.
hehe

>>29964481
>>29964714
I love the game so far. Soundtrack is so beautiful even at 8 bit and 4 horseman shots.
Give mes the Big Fish vbe with the hidden village in forest.
>>29964723
I'll do that after.

Sorry for not updating. Everything I try just doesn't feel right. bUT Soon though I will make siodm work.

>>29970504
What the actual fuck. This game went from 0-100 real fuming fast.

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>>29962174
Nurse Redheart stood in front of Screwy’s cell, staring inside at the oblivious dog-pony. Screwy looked just happy as could be to see her. She must have been here before sometime, and something happened. Maybe it was triggered by Screwy, but didn’t have anything to do with Screwy herself?
“Screwy, please tell me. Was I here several days ago? Did something happen to me?” Redheart asked.
Screwy whuffed slightly and tilted her head.
“Redheart, come away from that door this instant! You’re aggravating the patient!” Doctor Horse called.
Redheart felt something pulling at her to move away from the door, and one hoof pulled away. She steeled herself and forced her hoof to stay put, unwilling to give up now that she’d come so far.
“Please! You must tell me! What happened here that I can’t remember! Why does thinking of you and this room cause me so much pain! What happened here!?” Redheart pleaded.
“Redheart! Stop this at once. I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you until we can get you some serious psychiatric help.” Doctor Horse said, as he and two orderlies surrounded her.
Doctor Horse put a hoof on her shoulder gently and tried to coax her away from the door. She recoiled from his touch and whirled on him fearfully.
“Don’t touch me! I don’t remember anypony important to me anymore, and I’m positive it’s your fault! If I let you take me away I’m going to forget even more, all so you can have some… some… surgery machine!” Redheart screamed at him. She was in hysterics, and she felt like she should be crying, but nothing came out.
“Redheart please, you’re clearly distraught. Come with me to my office and we can get you the help you need.” Doctor Horse said gently.
“Every time I enter your office all I remember is blackness! I’m never going into your office again until you tell me what’s happening!” Redheart said as the orderlies surrounded her.

>>29971251
“Hey Doc, you really ought to tell her.” A voice said.
“What?” Doctor Horse said, looking around.
“Woof!” Screwy’s muzzle was sticking out the little window in her door, her tongue halfway out of her mouth, watching all of them.
“Tell me, what?” Redheart asked, looking up at Screwy. “That was you, I know it was! What should he tell me?”
“Redheart please, all she did was bark. That’s all she’s been capable of for years, please stop this!” Doctor Horse said. “Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have let you work so hard.”
Redheart turned on Doctor Horse. “That has nothing to do with my memories disappearing! You know, don’t you? I can’t even remember my mother and father anymore! What have you been doing to me, Doctor?”
Doctor Horse stared at her for a moment, as if thinking incredibly hard about what he was going to say next. “Alright. Leave me and Redheart alone if you would please.” He said to the two orderlies. They nodded and trotted back toward the West wing, leaving Nurse Redheart with Doctor Horse by themselves in the hallway.
Feeling a little more confident now that they were by themselves, Nurse Redheart stood up straight in front of Doctor Horse. “Now, let’s start with the important question: Why am I losing memories?”
Doctor Horse brought a hoof up to the bridge of his nose and pressed in hard while taking in a deep breath.

>>29971260
Nurse Redheart opened her eyes. She didn’t immediately understand where she was, because it was pitch black. At first she thought she might be having another bout of sleep paralysis, but she was able to move her limbs, she didn’t hear or see anything at all, and when she tried blinking a few times to make sure she was not still sleeping, it worked fine. Once she had verified that, and wiggled every limb, she reached out tentatively in front of her. Her hoof impacted a surface and she pushed gently at it. It shifted, but didn’t open. Something seemed to be blocking it. She pushed harder, only to have it still resist. She shook it repeatedly, and came to realize there was something jammed in the handles of the doors.
“H-hello? I-is any-anypony th-there?” Redheart said, her voice shaking.
There was no answer. She strained her ears to try and hear any sort of activity beyond the door blocking her exit from where she was trapped, but there didn’t seem to be any activity at all. Why was she in here in the first place? What had she been doing that she ended up here? She strained to remember what was going on before she found herself here. She had been working, like normal, and she had… she had…
Her memory was very fuzzy, and she was having a hard time bringing anything into focus. What did she remember? Her name was… Nurse… something? She was a nurse though, right? Images flashed through her mind of surgeries that she knew how to perform. Incisions, sutures, and a lot of blood were easily brought to mind, but despite all of that, she couldn’t remember her name. She shuddered, and felt very tired all of a sudden, but she was sure if she closed her eyes in here, she wouldn’t open them again.

>>29971272
She struggled to keep her eyes open and pushed against the door once more, pushing at the door with the little leverage she could get. She wiggled around until she could bring her hind hooves up against her torso, and shoved outward as hard as she could. With the snap of old metal, the hinges gave way and the door flew outward, clattering against the wall opposite of her position.
Shakily, she extended a hoof in the darkness, pulling herself weakly out of her confinement. Her whole body was shaking, but she tried to steady herself as she walked slowly out. She looked around, and some part of her brain recognized where she was.
“I-I used t-to wor-ork h-h-h-h…” She began, stopping halfway through, frustrated at being unable to finish the sentence.
Why was it so difficult to move? She didn’t feel cold, but her body felt heavy, and weak. That desire to rest was still there, but she pushed it back. Something was wrong, and she wanted to figure out what. The darkness prevented her from seeing most of what was around, but there was some small moonlight filtering through the shuttered windows, illuminating ruined floors and broken glass all over the place.
This was her hospital, but it was falling apart. This was near the front desk, where she would rest all the time during work. The front doors looked like they were boarded up from what she could see of the windows. She walked over and pushed, and sure enough, they didn’t move much. Her hind left leg felt heavy and unresponsive, but she wasn’t getting any tingling from it, and it still worked. She looked back at it, and it looked like she had been injured. The darkness didn’t let her see much except for something dangling off her flank. It didn’t hurt, so it was either extremely serious, or nothing to worry about.

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>>29971278
Nurse… somepony… shuffled aimlessly down the halls of her hospital. It was messy, and broken, and there were scuffs, scratches, dents, holes, and myriad other things strewn out across the floor. Eventually she found one window that was open and not boarded up on the first floor. It looked like it had been ripped open from the outside and somepony had come in. It was a clear night, and she thought about going for help, but then she heard a shuffling noise upstairs. She also noticed there was a tuft of fur, and a small amount of blood on the edge of the window. Somepony had hurt themselves coming in. Probably not serious, but that could lead to tetanus if not treated. She was feeling fine, even if she probably didn’t look it. She should see if they needed help before going to get any for herself. She was a nurse after all, of that she was certain.
Nurse Somepony limped along, left hind leg dragging heavy behind her. She was still shivering, even though she didn’t feel cold, and her leg didn’t feel pain. This really should have concerned her, she realized, but she couldn’t resolve herself to leave the hospital. Not when somepony needed help. She followed the trail of blood, eyes catching the faint glimmering trail in the darkness. Her left eye kept getting unfocused for some reason, and she blinked hard to fix it. She followed the trail upstairs, and as she reached the top of the stairs, she overheard whispering. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but they sounded distressed judging from the tone of voice.
“H-hello? I-I-I saw bloo-uh-uh-uhd. Are you oh-oh-oh-okay? I’m-I’m-I’m a nur-urse.” She stammered out.
The voices went silent after she spoke. She had to admit, it was kind of scary being here, so she’d probably scared them. So long as she kept talking and didn’t try to hide her hoofsteps, she could probably safely approach.

>>29971290
“Plee-ease, d-d-d-don’t be scare-ared. I am trained in oh-oh-oh-over two-hundred-undred-undred medical procedures to ease your suff-suff-suffering-ing and repair any trau-au-auma.” She slowly said, shuffling toward the last place she’d heard the sound.
She pushed open the door and walked through the makeshift barricade that had been erected out of the hospital detritus, then her vision swam as she was struck in the head with something heavy. Her left eye went completely out of focus and swam oddly, but her right swiveled to see a pony, holding a metal bar in his mouth. He had hit her!
She did a swift assessment as he wound up to swing again: Stallion. Young. Physically fit. Likely does sports. No overt habits. Allergies not a factor.
Nurse Somepony extended her right hoof, her head still bent at an odd angle from his first swing. Her hoof split at the end into small filaments of metal, which then became different medical tools. Scalpel, forceps, needle, syringe, bonesaw. She pulled him apart, took a blood, urine, and tissue sample, all within several seconds. The pieces of him fell to the floor, and she blinked her right eye, confused. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Something was wrong. She couldn’t remember how to put him back together
There was a soft whimpering noise and She turned to see the source. There was a young mare with him who had wet herself in the corner. She had a small cut on her flank, and her fur matched the colour of that she had seen on the window. Nurse Somepony advanced on her, and the mare turned her head away and cried harder. With another extension of her hoof, Nurse Somepony swiftly sewed up and patched the small wound, then turned away.
“S-s-s-see the fron-front desk before-ore-ore you leave.” She told the mare, and shuffled back out of the room.

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>>29971303
Nurse Somepony felt absolutely exhausted. Some ancient memory was trying to resurface, and she couldn’t fully put it together. Something about what happened in that room was confusing, and she couldn’t fully grasp it. She had seen… something, that had made her uncomfortable a long time ago. Something she wasn’t supposed to have seen. There was a cell, and a pony who acted like a dog…
Now that she had taken care of the injured pony, she should see about helping herself. Her left hind leg was still unresponsive, and now she couldn’t move her left eye at all. She went into the restroom on the first floor and tried to see in the mirror, but it was too dark. She extended her left hoof and looked at it dumbly for a moment, then a small light at the end of a prehensile cable came out of the end. That didn’t seem normal, but she was far too tired to worry about it. She pointed it at what remained of the mirror, and she saw herself in detail.
Her eyes glowed a dim red, the left one held in place by the new dent on the side of her skull the stallion’s strike had made. Her ears were bedraggled and the right one was half-missing. Her coat was peeling off in patches, and her nurses cap that she was so proud of was rotted and torn. Her left hind leg was busted, missing most of its fur, and she could see through the skin to the metal workings beneath. Something was jamming it, preventing it from properly moving. On her right flank, she could see the faded image of a cross, surrounded by red hearts.
Oh… that was her. Nurse Redheart. She had forgotten.

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>>29971316
Nurse Redheart trotted down the broken halls of Ponyville General, long since abandoned. She remembered now. Screwy had bit off some of her skin, exposing the metal beneath. She hadn’t been able to reconcile the fact that she wasn’t a pony with herself, and had shut down. She had been used as a surgery machine since then, to great effect. She remembered the many, many ponies she had performed on, Doctor Horse teaching her new ones any time he could. Ponyville had built a new hospital, with all the ponies moving in to be near the new princess, and she had been left here in favor of a newer model. Left to slowly rot in the dark.
Nurse Redheart put away her light, and shuffled slowly back to her charging station, ignoring the bones and corpses that littered the floor. Her charging station miraculously still had enough magic in it. She didn’t know how much longer it would last, but she was still working. Maybe it would last until she herself broke down. She settled into it, unable to close the door now that she had kicked it off its hinges. She closed her good eye and relaxed, letting herself recharge.

The next day, Nurse Redheart opened her eyes. She looked about in confusion, unsure where she was or what was happening. Her hospital was in ruins, and her left eye was unable to focus. She pulled herself up and got out of her resting nook. She looked around, trying to find somepony.
“H-h-h-hello? Is anyp-p-pony there-ere-ere-ere?”

The End.

>>29971327
Alone and slowly failing.

The End.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/3rHxUihC


>>29970871
>>29970504
Glad you're liking it! It's a nice piece of work, with every part of it working to make it just spooky enough.

>>29971335
Got to admit I did not expect that twist.

>>29971363
Haha! Glad it worked! I put in a bunch of hints, like having her "recharge" instead of sleep. The only time sleep is used in reference to her is when she thinks she's experiencing sleep paralysis.

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>>29971378
Think I got a something for that Diamond Dog story someone asked for, so I will work on that. It's easy to make the underground spooky. "Delve too greedily and too deep" and all that. Will have new stuff tomorrow. Hope the Nurse Redheart story was good. If you didn't like it, please do let me know. If you didn't find it scary or spooky or disconcerting, also let me know. I want to know how to scare people better.

>>29972092
It was spooky and intense right up to the end. The revelation of what she was at the end just made me sad tho. Not saying thats bad. I was just like 'wha?' and then I wanted to cry. I liked it.

>>29958232
Throughout Equestria
Relics of the past lay
Forgotten and alone
Never truly resting
Awaiting recognition

We aren't dead yet, anon.
The story has just begun
I can't say anything but
Have faith.

>>29972287
Thanks. She is the monster, but she's also not a monster. It was an accident outside her control, which is also a type of horror. Glad you liked it.

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>>29972457

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>>29973027

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>>29973027

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>>29964481
I just played it. That was pretty good.

>>29974211
Yeaaaaah, innit? Short, but sweet.

>>29977088
Oh, that's her tail.
I thought she was shitting rainbow diarrhea at first.

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Fast board today.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C--5vxvwcqA

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>>29971335
>You’re Rover, leader of the Diamond Dogs, you were a foredog, and you were in charge of digging, but right you you were bloody tired of digging.
>Not as a whole, but right now, you would have liked a rest.
>You, Fido, and Spot had recently found a natural cavern branching off from the main tunnels you had been digging, and lo and behold had it been filled with gems!
>Gems of all colours simply dripped from the ceiling, piling on the floor, falling out of the walls, and grew from every part of the cavern. It was amazing.
>Unfortunately they had gotten too greedy pulling them out, and had caused a cave-in.
>Cave-ins weren’t particularly dangerous to a diamond dog, who’s body could handle extreme pressure and heat, but it was inconvenient, and required a significant amount of effort to dig out of.
“Dig harder lazy-bones! Dogs need to reconnect to the tunnels!” You shouted.
>Fido and Spot continued their frenzied clawing at the rubble, sand, dirt, and stones being ejected from the tunnel and into the room filled with gems you were currently surveying.
>The gems were everywhere in the room, but a lot had been pulled off the walls and floor to make a large pile in the middle.
>You looked at the one that had been the supposed cause of the cave-in: A large red gem stuck inside one wall.
>Pulling at it had caused a shift in the stone around it as the weight distribution of the entire room had moved to accommodate the changed weight-load the gem had been taking. It really shouldn’t be moved.
>But you were not a scaredy-pony, who left things where they were “supposed” to be because it was just how things were meant to be.
>You were a Diamond Dog, and you were smarter than the smarties, and tougher than the toughies, and you wanted that gem.

>>29978841
>After what must have been several hours of digging, Fido and Spot finally broke through into one of your own Diamond Dog tunnels.
>You stormed out of the room of gems and barked loudly down the caverns.
>Several barks answered you, and within moments, a slew of guard dogs arrived, single-file moving down the tunnels to meet you.
“Alright boys, we has a gem we wants, but we needs some dog-power, come here.”
>You lead the dogs into the room of gems, where they appreciatively mutter about the haul you’ve discovered, but you bark and direct their attention to the stone in the wall.
“This gem won’t come out without dropping the whole roof on us, so we wants the roof and walls around it removed! Then they can’t fall on us!” You shouted. “Get digging!”
>As per your order, the dogs begin scraping at the walls around the gemstone.
>They weren’t stupid about it, they figured out where the faults would appear and which sections were going to be most prone to collapse, and worked backward, making sure the stone that would collapse was removed in a convenient line, leading back to the gem itself.
>Clever work, and built into a diamond dog’s genes.
>You, meanwhile, looked at the gem itself, and tried to appraise it.
>Uncut, but still a beautifully shaped red cube, it had quite a few facets nonetheless, smoothing out the corners and edges. It was also almost opaque, but you could still see through it, and in the center, reflecting the dim light of some of the torches the dogs had brought, you swore you could see a faint pulsing light.
>Likely a trick of the light and your imagination, but it looked beautiful.
>”It’s beautiful boss.” One of the guard dogs said.
“Yes. We wants it badly.”

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>>29978853
>Unfortunately, the work was taking some time, and the dogs were unable to complete the job before the work day was ended.
>You help set up supports, to make sure the room would not collapse while you sleeping and eating, and you marked the room with your own sign and scent.
>No other foredog was allowed to try to work that room. That was yours and yours alone. That gem would be yours.
>You eat your supper quickly, and return to the cavern alone, drawn back to the red gemstone.
>You stare at it for a moment, looking into the center where that faint pulsing appeared, and out of curiosity, you extinguish the nearby torches.
>Upon turning back to the gemstone, your curiosity is affirmed when you see the center of the gemstone glowing faintly.
“You are a curious thing are you not, little gem? Why do you glow, and what secrets brought you into existence? We shall find out, yes indeed. We shall find out.”
>You light the torches again and leave the gemstone alone for the night finding your most recent burrow.
>You close your eyes, questions filling your mind as you drift off to sleep.
>Your dreams are fitful, and colourful, filled with images of gemstones of all shapes and sizes, and all colours. They glow in your dream, a bright light emanating from their centers, and you hear music.
>Soft, but it was there, a lilting melody that was just out of earshot. You perk your ears to try to hear it better, and follow the sound where you think it is coming from, to no avail.
>The dream is just that; a dream, and you never find the source. But when you wake, you remember the real gem, and prepare yourself for another day of digging.
>You would have it soon.

>>29978865
A cavern. A gem. A dog.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R

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>>29971335
That was awesome. I didn't expect that plot twist at the end. Well done Wax, well done.

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>>29979216
Thanks, man. I appreciate it.

>>29971335
So Redheart had been a bot all along?
This reminds me of the issue of self awareness of AI

>>29980669
Aye. But she was not aware of it until the very end, and then she kept forgetting every time she went to "sleep".

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>>29980669
It's also a very interesting thing I've personally been interested in, now that I have longer to reply. The issue of consciousness is something I think about a lot, and yes.
My personal view is that if it is indistinguishable from a person that you would typically expect to meet, you should treat it with the same respect as you would that sort of person, whether or not it is made of flesh and blood. Hence why the horror of this story made such good sense to me to write it this way, because alzheimer's patients typically behave this way. They forget the people they love, the places they've been, everything except implicit functions of living are forgotten, and to me, that's horrible.

I've always had trouble trying to write horror. Any tips to discuss on how to do it in text?

>>29981513
something something
Turing Test
something something

>>29981855
I'm not exactly sure what tips would work for you, but I'll tell you what I do.

Because a lot of what makes horror scary is the unknown, I only ever volunteer the minimum necessary to set the scene and establish the characters. In the story I wrote about Nurse Redheart, you were following her specifically, so you were only getting her point of view.
I specifically gave her a lot of emotion, enjoyment of her work, and enthusiasm. I then avoided giving away what was wrong with her, while making sure that there was a lot going on that made her scared, hopefully getting the audience to feel that way along with her. No idea if it worked, but nobody has said they hate it yet, so I can hope.

In general, you'll never scare everyone with the same thing, so don't try to scare everyone. Try to scare yourself, and surely someone will get scared along with you. I'm not sure what else to tell you, really. Do you have any questions?

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>>29982321
I'm on vacation. Spent today bein' lazy. More story tomorrow. Still about caves and diamond dogs.

>>29982321
Thank you for the response.
>In general, you'll never scare everyone with the same thing, so don't try to scare everyone.
This is good advice. The question is, how does one scare via text? It seems like this medium in particular would make it difficult.

>>29982321

>I specifically gave her a lot of emotion, enjoyment of her work, and enthusiasm. I then avoided giving away what was wrong with her, while making sure that there was a lot going on that made her scared, hopefully getting the audience to feel that way along with her. No idea if it worked, but nobody has said they hate it yet, so I can hope.

it worked on me partly because I'm playing a medipony in a pnp, I tend to roleplay characters realistically as possible mostly because I like immersing myself in what I read and letting to story take me on a ride

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>>29983191
The trick is to get the reader invested in the story, because it depends entirely on them and their imagination. If they don't want to be scared, they won't be. Think of a situation that scares you, and write it out using any sort of writing skills that you have. The more polished the better, of course, as with any writing.

>The hall of the old mansion stretched out before Scootaloo. She'd entered because despite warnings to leave it be, Winter was coming, and she had nowhere else to stay out of the cold.
>Unfortunately, those warnings may have been right, as she had an uneasy feeling that she was being watched.
>She walked upstairs and entered a long hall.
>In the darkness, the dim light from her lantern provided meager protection from the cold night, but it was enough to illuminate an empty corridor stretching out ahead.
>Doors on either side were open to differing degrees, her light stopping at the threshold of each leaving the contents up to her imagination.
>She watched warily to either side, skirting as far away from the doors until she was halfway down the hall, then looked ahead.
>She stopped abruptly.
>There, standing at the far end of the hall was a figure cloaked in shadow.
“Hello?” Scootaloo called out quietly, unsure if she was trespassing.
>The figure didn’t say anything, but it slowly tilted its head to one side, then the other.
>Scootaloo didn’t like the way it moved, its neck bent a little too far to be normal.

In this example, you need the detail. Imagine a horror movie, and try to describe it. It's dark, it's winter, there's very little light beyond Scootaloo's lantern, and even that isn't enough. Shadows cover everything, and the thing in the hall is moving strangely. From there, the reader will fill in the blanks as you progress, ideally scaring themselves with the information you provide as you continue the story. Now that they know the details until you decide to change them.

>>29978874
>Work was proceeding very slowly, and you find yourself getting more and more impatient.
>The morning was mostly uneventful, but Fido nearly caused a second cave-in while he was shoring up a section of the cavern.
>It had cost you another couple hours while they repaired and removed the section that was going to fall, and you weren’t happy.
>You dug with the rest of them, not content to wait while they fixed it under your direction. You were a diamond dog, and you were going to get dirty with the others.
>You needed that gem, and every set of paws sped up the process.
>During lunch break you stared at the gemstone, Fido and Spot sitting next to you.
>”What’s so interesting about it, Boss?” Spot asked.
“We hasn’t seen a gemstone like this before. Not even pony has gemstone like this.”
>”Pony has a castle made of gems. We saw it. Couldn’t steal it though.” Fido said.
“Not like this. This gem is different. We’s sure of it. We must has it.”
>“We’re workin’ on it boss.” Spot responded.
“Work harder!”
>You stop digging and move to survey the gemstone itself. It must have been here for thousands of years to be so embedded in the rock, and you couldn’t help but wonder why it had formed the way it had.
>”If I even formed at all.”
>You look around to try to find the source of the voice.
>It was similar to that lilting song you heard in your dream.
>It was definitely not one of your dogs that had said it.
>You look at the gemstone, and the center of it seemed to pulse with life, drawing your eye inside it.
>Something seemed off about this whole thing.
>You had never been this obsessed with a gem before.

>>29986360
“Stop!” You yelled.
>Every dog in the room looked over at you in confusion.
“Stop digging at once!” You shout at them.
>Fido turns to look at you. “But boss, we’s gotten nowhere yet. You can’t take it out.”
“We knows that! Leave the room at once! We needs to survey it more clearly. Can’t do that with dogs in the way.”
>You shove the rest of the dogs out of the cavern, smacking a few of them who weren’t listening, until it was just you and the gemstone left.
>You stick your head out of the entrance and check left and right before moving back in front of the gemstone.
>You glare at it, and open your mouth, but close it again.
>What on earth was this thing?
>Were you seriously going to talk to it?
>Something was wrong, and you needed to find out what it was. This was not safe.
>You leave the cavern, refusing to engage a stone in conversation, and block off the room with a sign: “No Entry! Unsafe!”
>You leave and go back to your quarters to think.
>Unfortunately, thinking does not come so easily, as images of the gem appear in your mind while you are absent from it.
>That tune from your dream plays through your head repeatedly, and you dig at the walls, scraping your claws against the stone to try to drown it out.
>Your introspection is interrupted by commotion coming from the tunnels, nearby, and you leave to investigate.
>Several dogs, including Spot, are chattering outside the cavern with the gem. Spot appears to be considering your sign.
“What is dogs doing here? Cavern is off-limits.” You say.
>”Boss, we want to keep digging? We hates leaving a job unfinished.” Spot pleaded.
“We tolds you that we needs to consider our options! We can’t gets the gem out yet.” You say.

>>29986370
>Spot’s face looks angry, and a lot of the other dogs appear to glower at you as well, but they leave, muttering to themselves.
>This was shaping up to get ugly very fast. If the other dogs were hearing the same voices and song, they might not have the same mental fortitude as you, and would give in much sooner.
>The gem wanted to be dug out, but you had yet to decide if that was safe or not.
>If it could sing to you, and talk to you, and was doing that to every dog that had seen it, this was going to prove a problem.
>You returned to your quarters to think about your next step, and whether you should try to collapse the cavern.
>That was the extreme option, but if you could understand what the gem wanted, maybe you could come to some agreement. You were at the very least, certain that it was somehow sentient.
>You struggle as you spend the rest of the day eating, exercising, and otherwise trying to occupy your time when you normally would have been working.
>It was difficult, to say the least.
>There were several instances throughout the day when the other dogs came back to go work in the cavern without your agreement, thankfully you caught them every single time.
>They tried to be sneaky the last time, but they had dropped the sign and the clattering had given them away.
>Fido even came by to plead with you to let them back in.
>You had denied them. They wanted it too badly, and that wasn’t good. You weren’t sure how you were going to fix this.

>>29986464
Rover makes a connection.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R

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>>29986503

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>>29987416

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>>29982978
Just take your time. Speaking of vacation, I passed my last exam Thursday, that means I'll finally have some free time to continue working on your OC. I'm currently working on cleaning the lines.

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>>29988150
I also gave her cutie mark a try. If you've any suggestion just let me know. I'll ask the drawfag improvement thread about it tomorrow.

>>29988150
>>29988168
Aw sweet! Well no rush, take your time as well. I just appreciate that you're willing to do it in the first place.
As for the cutie mark, I'd never considered a flame other than yellow. I'm not sure if that would work well with her colouring, so I'll leave it up to you. You probably know more about colour theory than I do.

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>>29988242

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>>29988845
>d work

>>29986503
>The night came slowly, and sleep was fitful and restless. That song was still in your head and your dreams all contained the gemstone.
>The voice singing the song has a beautiful voice, and you loved every moment that it spoke to you.
>You didn’t remember any of what was said, but it was sounded like a good idea no matter which way you looked at it.
>Which was why you weren’t going to do it.
>You pulled yourself up from bed, shuffled wearily out of your room to the gem’s cavern.
>You stopped as you reached the entrance.
>Directly past the sign, there was a shimmer of heat, acting as a curtain for the cavern.
>Past the shimmering sheet of light, some small creatures appeared to be dancing around the pile of gems that had yet to be removed.
>You squinted, trying to see what they were, but the wobbling of the barrier prevented you from properly discerning their features.
>They certainly weren’t ponies or diamond dogs, though.
>You’d have to go through the barrier to see more clearly.
>You stuck out a paw and gingerly touched a claw to the barrier.
>It didn’t hurt.
>In fact it didn’t feel like much of anything except a warm feeling seeped into you from your claw, moving slowly up your arm.
>You jerked your paw back.
>It felt good.
>Too good.
>The kind of good that would make a dog complacent and ignore that nagging feeling that something was wrong.
>”I promise it’s wonderful inside.” A feminine voice said from behind you, and shoved you forward.
>As you fell forward, you spun around to try to see what, or who, had pushed you.
>You get a brief glimpse of a shape that looked reminiscent of a pony before your whole body went into the curtain of light.

>>29990698
>You wake up in your bed, panting heavily.
>This was wrong. This was all wrong.
>That thing was dangerous, you had to get rid of it. Collapse the tunnel, smash it, whatever you could manage. It had to be done.
>The other dogs might already be under its spell, so you might have to get forceful.
>Could you fight an entire squad of guard dogs?
>Not likely, but you’d try, or all the dogs would be slaves to some rock.
>You were diamond dogs, and you liked rocks, but you were supposed to decide what you would do with the rocks, not allow the rocks to decide.
>You pull yourself to your paws, and hurry down the tunnel to the cavern.
>Your worst fears were confirmed as you saw the sign torn down and tossed to the side.
>The dogs were working at pulling the gemstone out of the wall again, and they had made considerable progress.
“Dogs! Whats is going on in here?! This room was off limits!” You screamed at them.
>None of the guard dogs looked at you, but Fido saw you and came over.
>He had a strange look in his eyes and a small smile on his face.
>”We was sleeping, but we thought we would surprise Boss with a finished job. We knew Boss would be so happy to have the job done sooner.” Fido smiled.
“Fools! We blocked this cavern off for a reason! Get out! Get out! Get out!” You yelled, waving your massive paws in the air at them.
>The dogs all turn to you at once, their small smiles drooping into displeased frowns.
>”Boss, we aren’t going to stop digging.” Spot said, matter-of-factly.
“We are the foreman, what we say goes!” You retort, pulling yourself up tall.
>”We want to dig here, we’re going to dig here. She needs our help.” Fido said.

>>29990702
“There is no she! It is a rock! Rocks do not tell dogs what to do!” You shout.
>Fido and Spot advance on you, and you slowly back away, out of the cavern.
>”She needs us, Boss, and if Boss won’t help, Boss can stay out.” Fido says.
>The dogs start piling up rocks, gems, and dirt in the entryway to block you out.
>You start swiping at it, pushing the items out of the way and trying to force your way back in.
>They keep piling things on it, trying to make the pile bigger, faster than you can push it down, until finally Spot gets fed up.
>With a snarl he leaps out of the cavern at you, and starts clawing at your face.
>You’ve fought him before for the foreman position, and he couldn’t win then, and he definitely can’t win now. You’re bigger and smarter than he is and he knows it.
>This isn’t normal behavior for him.
>Fido and the other dogs ignore the fight and keep blocking the entrance, leaving you tussling with Spot out in the tunnel.
>You easily block Spot, and eventually sit on him, your larger size allowing you to hold him down.
>After a while, he calms down, and you let him back up, carefully.
>”Boss, what’s going on? Why were we all working in there? We’d never go against Boss’s orders like that.” Spot said.
“We doesn’t know. Something about the gemstone. It isn’t just a stone. We needs to get in there somehow.” You say.
>”We might knows a place we can dig in. Saw it before we started work on the gemstone!” Spot said.
“Take us there.”
>You follow Spot down the tunnel a short distance, skirting around the walls of the cavern until you reach a spot that is made of much softer limestone than the rest, and is slightly higher.

>>29990706
Rover acquires a confused ally.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R

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>>29992297

>>29990712
>”This should takes us directly to the roof of the cavern, Boss!”
“Excellent work, Spot. Now let us dig!”
>You begin pulverizing your way through the stone, massive claws gouging out chunks of stone with each powerful swipe.
>Progress is still slow, however, as you are attempting to dig through solid stone, but you’re getting there.
>You’ve only made it a short distance into the stone when you feel a powerful wind blow through the tunnels.
>You stop and perk your ears up.
>Wind like that in the underground tunnels usually indicated a cave-in, or a huge change in the air pressure caused by breaking into a cavern.
>Usually nothing good.
>You poke your head out of your tunnel and issue a loud bark.
>You get no response.
>Unfortunately most of the dogs under your command are digging against your orders inside the gemstone’s cavern.
>All you had was Spot.
“Spot, go find out what caused that. We will be here when you get back.”
>Spot salutes you, and runs off down the tunnels, following the direction the wind came from.
>You watch him go for a moment, then continue scraping away at the stone.
>After a few minutes, you feel another breeze passing through the tunnels, causing the lights to flicker.
>You stick your head out and bark down the tunnel.
>You hear spot respond after a few seconds.
>He’s alright, but something is off.
>You go back to your digging and after about twenty more minutes, a stronger gust of wind blows down the tunnel, blowing dust and dirt up and into your eyes, and extinguishing the torches that had been set up.
>That definitely wasn’t normal.
>You bark again, wanting to check on Spot.
>It takes longer than usual, but you get a response from him.
>He seems as confused and wary as you are.

>>29993625
>The dark wasn’t too much of a problem for diamond dogs. Your sense of smell, innate sense of direction, hearing, and fur, all combine to help you feel out your surroundings, even in pitch blackness.
>It was still disconcerting, though. You used the torches because you wanted to be able to see what you were working on. Without sight, you wouldn’t be able to make precise measurements for shoring up rocks and excavating gems properly.
> More importantly, this darkness, right now, you were sure was not caused by any naturally occurring event.
>As if to punctuate your fears, you heard music lilting up and down the tunnels.
>It was very faint, but it was there.
>It was that tune you had heard in your dream, which meant it was caused by the gemstone, which meant something sinister was happening.
>It had likely been uncovered more, and that was bad.
>You keep digging, but stop as the singing started getting louder.
>In addition, you could hear hoofsteps clopping on the stone of the tunnel.
>Something was here!
>Some actual creature was out, and stalking the tunnels, and it was coming this way!
>You swiftly dig a hole in the side of the tunnel you were in, and press yourself inside it, back against the stone, and muzzle hopefully pulled behind the lip of rock that allowed you to see out.
>A glow appeared, filtering down the tunnel and illuminating the dust you had been kicking up with your digging.
>It was the same colour as the center of that gemstone, and you were certain it was the colour of this mysterious pony’s magic.
>You closed your eyes as the singing and hoofsteps got closer, not willing to take the chance that looking at that light would ensnare your mind the way it had already taken your dogs.

>>29993633
>You listened and slowed your breathing as the hoofsteps came closer, trying to minimize your presence.
>There was just no way it wouldn’t notice, but you could hope.
>If you could at least get it close enough, maybe you could kill it before it took over your mind.
>You doubted it, but anything was better than being enslaved.
>The singing passed by, and the light brightened enough to burn through your eyelids, but then dimmed as the thing continued down the tunnel.
>You crept out of your hole and carefully made your way to the edge of your offshoot.
>You wanted to bark to check on Spot, but that would definitely alert the thing to your presence.
>Should you take a look at it? Its light was still present, filtering down the tunnel.
>You could feel the pull of the song and the light, both making you want to follow after it.
>This thing wanted free, and if its magic was anything to go by so far, it would be dangerous if it got out.
>You close one eye, and chance a look down the tunnel after the thing.
>You caught a glimpse of a long floating tail, as if underwater, and a glowing deep red colour.
>Your heart lurched in your chest, and you found yourself short of breath as it seemed to pull toward the pony.
>Your ribs ached, and your lungs burned.
>You forced yourself to look away with some difficulty, and gasped.
>What was this thing?
>You were strong. Very strong.
>Not quite as strong as Fido, but still strong enough to pulverize rock with your bare claws, and lift heavy stones with minimal effort.
>This was not strength though.
>This thing was strong in unnatural and dangerous ways that you could not hit with your paws.
>It scared you. And that fact was the most frightening of all.
>This was not physical power you could kill so easily.

>>29993643
It's slowly getting free. And it appears to be a pony.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R

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>>29993665
So let's try to have some more conversation going in here.

Tell me about the things that scare you /mlp/. Spiders? Ghosts? Zombies? Murderers? The dark? The crushing emptiness of your existence?

>>29993856
Fear of the dark? Nah not really. Fear of what's IN the dark, shit I can't see or defend myself against, now that gets the blood flowIng

>>29993940
So what do you worry about being in the dark? Something tangible like a killer or a bear? Or that creepy kid from the grudge or even aliens?

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>>29993856
>The crushing emptiness of your existence
OK you got me here.

>>29993856
Loneliness.

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>>29993856
Drifting in space knowing at any moment you'll run out of oxygen and begin to suffocate.
Drowning and sinking to the bottom of the ocean for the creatures of the deep to consume my abandoned spirit and soaked flesh.
Cockroaches.

Funnily enough, I'd like to go into space or explore the depths of the ocean one day.
But fuck cockroaches, they're fucking terrible.

>>29994097
That's nihilism for you. There is nothing I can say that will be of any comfort.

>>29994811
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsxE0VJ3m2U

>>29995070
Space and the Ocean are frightening because there's so much unknown about them. Are you more afraid of dying in them, or what's actually in them?

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>>29995266
Nihilism is its own comfort. If nothing matters, then nothing matters and you are free to live for the moment.

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>>29993856
I may have chronophobia. I tend to compulsively watch the clock and I stopped wearing a watch years ago for this reason. I don't fear clocks themselves but I fear the passing of time and everything it involves: aging, forgetfulness, loneliness, death... I fear oblivion the most and I feel like it slowly drives me into pessimism and nihilism.
>music related: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-Xt3-XbHI8

Mirrors make me uncomfortable too, especially large ones.

>>29995425
Heh, that's generally how I feel about it. I realize not everyone can enjoy meaninglessness as much as I can, though.

>>29995452
Oblivion isn't such a bad thing. Like Epicurus once said: "If I am, death is not. If death is, I am not. Why should I fear that which cannot exist while I do?"
So you know with certainty you will one day die, and that sucks, but if you're still alive, what's the sense in worrying about it? Time, though. That's tough. I can't really help you there. It is terrifying knowing you can't do anything about it at all, though. Powerlessness, in that sense, is scary.
Now mirrors, those can be spooky, and there's plenty of urban legends around them, so I get that fear perfectly.

>>29993856
Demons.
My own personal ones and the ones that haunt people.

>>29995625
>>29995625
Like sleep paralysis? Possession? Selling your soul kind of thing? Or mental demons?
Would you be more scared of a Needful Things kind of demon who looks human or the inhuman ones?

>>29995803
Both.
Possession definitely though.

>>29994022
Paranormal in the dark, it creates an even greater threat in my mind knowing that not only is there an unknown entity that may or may not be stalking me or whatever, but an even greater fear knowing that I may as well be naked and defenseless against it. Hence why I am VERY paranoid when it comes to thing like ouijia boards and other paranormal contact methods. I just don't fuck with that stuff

>>29995929
Losing my identify is one thing I am very afraid of. Alzheimer's scares the shit out of me. Possession would be very similar, as well as multiple personality disorder.

>>29995951
I can perfectly identify with this. You don't know what's out there, and you certainly don't know how to defend against it. Good and spooky.

>>29995974
Right? It's a reason why I love the "Paranormal Activity" movies (I like them, sue me) because typical slasher movies or stuff along those lines just piss me off cuz I always end up thinking "man if I was that person I woulda fought so much harder" but against ghosts, demons, and spirits, there almost is no fighting back. Just trying to avoid and or subdue it somehow.

>>29996027
Coat your fist in a mixture of spices, garlic oil, iron filings, silver dust, and kosher salt, then beat the unliving shit out of whatever is messing with you while screaming devotional hymns.

>>29996078
Okay! B-but where would I find such things!?

>>29996326
Your average grocery store for most of the supplies, iron filings too, in the toy department. Silver is a touch harder, but a plain silver band would do just as well and no one questions you for wearing one.
The faith will have to come from within, but once you have that you could be shouting the lyrics from a Bolt Thrower song and it would sound like devotional hymns.

>>29996385
You have supplied me the methods to procur items to combat the evil spirits. Thank you good Anon.

>>29996027
I like slasher films because of the villains. I could care less about most of the heroes because they're so foolish and bad at fighting or escaping.
>>29996078
>>29996326
>>29996385
I like this idea though. Just find whatever counts as a "holy" symbol for yourself. Maybe a pony plushy and protect yourself from them by bearing your "cross". Godspeed spooked anon.

>>29993856
I never fancied the idea of being eaten alive.
Doesn't matter whether it be shark, bear, lion, zombie, or human canibal rapist.
Just the thought of being mutilated and ripped apart into pieces just sounds horrible.

>>29996672
Oh yeah. That hidden tape of that guy that got eaten by a bear, and the whole thing was recorded? The guy who had been examining bears his whole life was freaked out by it. I don't remember the whole story or the name or anything, but I heard about it when it happened.

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>>29993665
>You wait until the singing disappears down the tunnel, and pad quickly down the one Spot had traveled down.
>He may have been caught by that mysterious pony, but if he wasn’t, you wanted to make sure he was okay.
>You still weren’t sure what the pony wanted, and if Spot was hurt, you had to help.
>The singing fades behind you, and you hurry down the tunnel. You think you can smell him, and nothing else, especially not blood, which was a good sign so far.
>You follow your nose until you find him lying on the floor of the tunnel.
>You can’t see him in the darkness, but you prod him with a claw.
“Spot? Is dog okay?”
>He doesn’t respond.
>You feel at his face and put a paw in front of his mouth to feel for breath.
>He’s breathing, but he seems comatose.
>You smack him upside the face.
>He whines faintly, but you get nothing else.
>You smack him harder.
>His right leg twitches, but nothing else happens.
“Dog needs to get up! We need help!”
>He doesn’t respond, but twitches some more.
>You wonder if this is the result of looking at the pony for too long. You didn’t have time to worry about it though, you had to get rid of this awful gemstone before things got out of paw.
>You move to head back down to your small section of the tunnel and work your way into the cavern, but you hear the song the pony was singing coming back your direction.
>It bored its way into your brain and you felt yourself wanting to go meet her… it.
>It had a very singular purpose, and that was not something you could allow yourself the luxury of giving in to.
>If it was heading back this way, though, there was the chance it would find Spot on the ground! You couldn’t let her have him back!

>>29997572
That must have been disturbing. In a place like Equestria there is so much dangerous wildlife. Not even counting the fact that most of it seems to have at least a glimmer of intelligence.

>>29998359
>You quickly pad back to Spot and feel at the upper walls of the tunnel.
>You find the softest portion of stone and scrape away at it quickly. You’re making a lot of noise, but you didn’t have to dig far. Just big enough to fit Spot inside.
>He would be higher than a pony could see, so hopefully she would not find him, and he would remain comatose long enough to avoid seeing more of her himself.
>You could see the light from the pony coming down the and you quickly shove Spot inside the crude cubbyhole you’d made for him.
>After you were sure he was safe, you scamper down a separate tunnel, specifically avoiding where she was headed. This tunnel should ideally lead you back to where you were digging.
>You want to make sure Spot is safe, though, so you hang back and peer down the tunnel to see where she goes.
>It was taking a hell of a chance, but you were loyal to your dogs.
>Loyalty was a defining trait of a Diamond Dog. Without it, you were just a mutt.
>The dark red light flows down the hall, illuminating cracks with a sinister glow, and shining darkly off reflective flecks in the stone about you.
>Finally, she… er… it, rounds the corner.
>Your heart pulls at your chest, robbing you of breath and pressing hard against your rib cage.
>An ache builds inside you, and you know she’s the only one that can fill it. She will fill you with purpose and fulfill your gem-seeking dreams, if you will only give yourself to her and her will.
>You watch as she passes Spot’s cubby, and starts walking slowly down the tunnel toward your corner.
>You pull yourself away and stumble down the tunnel, blindly bumping into the walls.
>You were certain she saw you looking, but she didn’t speed up. She was confident it was only a matter of time.

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>>29998374
>Her face, though.
>You had seen it, and it was beautiful.
>Perfectly shaped, with a long and deadly horn with the slightest curve to it adorning her forehead.
>Her mane floated in the air as if underwater just like her tail, and in the sinister red light surrounding her, her eyes were solid black, and strong enough to kill with a simple look.
>She was perfect, and you hated yourself for thinking it.
>You put distance between her… uh… it, and yourself, and your heart finally settled down, slowing its beating to a merely excited murmur.
>Your breathing finally came easier, and you gathered yourself.
>You could see in the distance behind you her telltale glow, and she was advancing inexorably toward you.
>These were your tunnels, though, and you knew them like the back of your paw.
>Even if it somehow always knew where you were, there were places a normal pony could not go.
>You did not think it could be stopped like a normal pony, and could likely fly up shafts where you could climb, but at least she could never corner you.
>You turned a corner and found a torch mounted on the wall.
>If you were going to distract her long enough to give you time to finish your digging, you probably needed some sort of distractor besides leading her to the main battalion of Diamond Dogs.
>You had to keep her isolated here, with just the few of you.
>Maybe she couldn’t even travel that far away from her gemstone, but you weren’t going to risk it.
>If she got more dogs down here, she’d be free in no time at all.
>Your only plan was to get in that cavern somehow, and destroy the gemstone.
>Whether it would free her or kill her, you didn’t know. You also didn’t know if you could actually shatter it, but it was all you had. You would never be able to hide it from your dogs. Not after their brainwashing.

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>>29998385
Rover feels unnatural love for a glowing red pony.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R

>>29998368
In Equestria I don't know how much of the wildlife is actively malicious and how much is actually just wildlife being wildlife. Because a timberwolf is made entirely of wood. Does it need to eat? They can literally fall apart and pull themselves together again. That would mean they're just attacking ponies to be assholes.

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Spooky bump.

>>29998713
>attacking just to be assholes
That sounds like me 8f I was ever a monster.

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>>29999700
My French isn't super good. Does that image say "The cat fell out the window?"

>>30001089
"The cat is falling out of the window." to be exact.
"The cat fell out the window." would be "Le chat est tombé de la fenêtre."

>>30001285
The est makes the entire difference in this instance? I thought est was the equivalent of "is".

I suppose the next question would be why the image says that to begin with.

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>>29998404
>You lope down the tunnels in a large circle around the cavern, lighting torches as you went.
>You were expecting it to extinguish them as it passed by, but the hope was that it would follow the line of torchlight.
>If you could get enough torches lit in a nice big line, then you could go back to your little tunnel and continue digging for a short while.
>If it decided to change its behavior, well, then you didn’t know what you would do.
>Maybe go through the front and just try to fight your guard dogs?
>That would be a mess. You could never beat Fido in a contest of strength, especially if he had other dogs backing him up.
>Oh well.
>You’d worry about that when it came to it.
>For now, you lit torches in lines up and down tunnels, sloped tunnels going up and then back down, in a neat and tidy, yet meandering circle around the cavern the gemstone was nestled.
>You eventually got back to where you had begun lighting torches and found that it had indeed extinguished them as it passed by.
>This was your chance!
>You hurried to your small nook and began clawing hard at the limestone, ripping it up as fast as you could manage.
>You made considerable progress, and you were certain you could feel the vibrations of the constant digging of your dogs excavating the gemstone below.
>You eventually heard the singing of the pony coming closer, and you had to assume that it had finally focused on you instead of the false trail you had laid out for it.
>That probably meant this thing was not the actual entity inside the gemstone, but instead a fake that was just sent out to catch any prey nearby.
>You snuck out of your small tunnel and padded your way down the dark tunnels to hide.

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>>30002006
>You came back to where you had left Spot, to see how he was doing.
>You smelled him, but when you reached a paw into the hole you had left him in you found it empty.
>Alarm filled you at his absence.
>He had already been ensnared once, it would likely be a simple matter for the pony to catch him again.
>Should you bark to try to find him?
>It would alert the pony for certain, and would you reach him before it did?
>Would you all come together at the same time and just fall directly into the pony’s trap?
>It wasn’t worth the risk.
>You still had other senses that could lead you to him, ones that ponies distinctly lack, or at least aren’t as acutely tuned as yours.
>You put your nose to work, sniffing the cubby where you’d stashed him, and then following where he went afterward.
>Unfortunately you realized immediately that his trail led you back to the start of the path of torches you’d laid out.
>That either meant he was following you, or he was following the pony.
>Either one would have led him into its path before he found you.
>You hoped beyond hope that he had the sense to stay away from such unnatural singing.
>You continued to follow his scent, down the trail of now extinguished torches, and closer to the singing pony.
>Your hopes fell further and further the closer you got, and sure enough, when you got close enough to see him, he was walking dumbly toward the pony.
>Once again, seeing the pony tugged at your heart in that unnatural way, and you began to feel short of breath. It wasn’t as bad as before, which was nice, but you weren’t sure if that was because it was focused on Spot, or if you were becoming more inured to it.

>>30002042
>What could you do?
>Spot was walking slowly toward her… it, and it was focused on him as well.
>It wasn’t walking anymore, just facing Spot, her… its mane and tail floating unnaturally in the air, as if waving in a gentle current.
>You had to do something, you couldn’t just abandon him to his fate, but if you got any closer you would likely get captured as well.
>You step out into the tunnel, and bark.
>Spot stops walking, and the pony turns her eyes to you.
>Her red glow illuminated just enough of the tunnel for you to see the outline of the stone walls, jagged edges looking more pronounced in the light she made.
>Her… its eyes looked into yours, and your heart tugs against your ribs.
>Her eyes were black pools seemingly dropping into infinity, and you grimace as the pain in your chest intensifies, your heart being drawn toward her.
>She smiles a small, seemingly benign smile, and looks back to Spot.
>She never seemed to stop singing, her perfect lips issuing forth that haunting and calming music while she looked at him.
>He took a step forward, and you bark again. This time a much more strained yelp than a full bark, and you had to place one paw against your chest as you felt a sharp spike of pain.
>You took a step back, the insistent pull lessening the further away from her you were.
>You didn’t understand how Spot could stay standing if that was how strong it was.
>Unless, being under her spell, he was immune.
>Her… its horn glowed, and you hear a snapping sound, followed by the ripping of flesh, and watch in horror as Spot’s heart tears itself out of his chest, floating above her head.
>You give a strangled cry of surprise, pain, and horror, as she calmly continues to sing, Spot’s heart suspended in the air.

>>30002179
Kali ma!

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R

>>30001901
That's the artist's alias

>>30002773
That's a hilarious alias to have.

>>30002814
See >>30001747

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>>30001901
It's a bit more complicated than that. "est" is indeed the literary equivalent of "is" but in most of the cases, we use the passé composé (compound past) to translate past tenses. Passé simple, the literary equivalent of preterite, is pretty disused outside of formal speech and literature and isn't used anymore in spoken French. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pass%C3%A9_compos%C3%A9 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pass%C3%A9_simple
tl;dr: French language is a bitch and full of tenses and conjugations that no one uses anymore and having it as your native language is a good thing because at least you won't have to learn it in school. Good luck with that if you're learning it.

>why the image says that to begin with
It's the artist's name.
https://derpibooru.org/tags/artist-colon-le+chat+tombe+de+la+fen%C3%AAtre
http://lechattombefenetre.deviantart.com/
According to desuarchive, le chat tombe de la fenêtre used to be a drawfag and a tripfag for the Thingpone Thread.
https://desuarchive.org/mlp/search/username/le+chat+tombe+de+la+fen%C3%AAtre
By a strange coincidence, today is the day le chat tombe de la fenêtre decided to make his comeback after everyone thought he was dead. >>30001869

>>30002877
Awww that is super cool! I remember those pictures at least! I'm glad they came back, that's awesome!

I've studied French for a while, and yeah, I've learned about a lot of stuff in it that makes me frustrated. Gender in a language is confusing as all fuck. Probably the thing I hate the most. If I remember correctly the gender of the word is attached to the noun it's referring to, not the subject of the sentence, is that right?

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>>30003358
That's right.
>Gender in a language is confusing as all fuck
I understand your frustration. I used to study German in high school and this language is frustrating as fuck. Look at this shit, it has more genders than tumblr! Three genders, and a shit ton of variants depending of the context. At least French has only two genders.

>>30003544
Sounds like how Latin works. Declensions were a mess for me in particular

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>>30005212
I'm studying Latin at the moment. It's a very interesting language so far.

>>30005899
What was the instinctive revulsion humans have for images like this? That thing that gives you chills when you look at certain organic patterns like that?

>>30006172
Trypophobia. Fear of irregular patterns, holes, or bumps. Believed to be based on an inherent biological revulsion, rather than a learned fear.

It's fascinating, not digusting, to me, anyway. Lampreys can still get fucked, though.

>>30002184
>You watch in horrible fascination as Spot’s heart begins to burn, the flame consuming his heart a deeper red than the glow the pony gave off.
>Spot did not die, however.
>He whined and whimpered in front of her, but he stayed alive.
>Her song rose in volume, tugging at you, and you were forced to back away several steps further.
>Spot’s heart burned into nothing more than a blackened coal in the grip of the pony’s magic, which intensified around it, pressing it into a blood-red gemstone.
>She brought it back down and although you couldn’t see properly, you heard the crackling of bone and flesh once more, and Spot goes rigid, standing up straight for a moment, then turns around.
>You pull away a few more steps upon seeing what was done to him.
>In his chest where his heart should be is the red glowing gemstone the creature made of his heart.
>There is a cauterized hole in his chest and you can see his ribs holding the gemstone in place, twisting around it.
>His eyes are suffused with the same glowing red of the pony that did this to him, and they focus directly on you.
>His veins bulge on his arms, and he start moving toward you.
>Stiffly at first, as if getting used to his body for the first time, but slowly picking up speed.
>He pants heavily and starts loping down the tunnel at you.
>You turn and run.
>You could probably fight him, but you weren’t going to try to fight with that pony so close by.
>If Spot got one good pin on you, that would likely be game over.
>You were rather attached to your heart, and would rather not lose it to a pony, of all things.
>That was some damned sinister magic there.
>Unnatural, and very dangerous.
>What did it even do?

>>30006420
>You lead Spot down the tunnels, around corners and further away from that pony.
>You look over your shoulder occasionally to make sure he’s still following you.
>He seems to have just been sent to keep you busy while the rest of your dogs dig out that gemstone.
>It was a good plan on the pony’s part, but there was a reason you were in charge.
>You were smart.
>Smarter than the smarties, and tougher than the toughies, and by Dog you weren’t going to let some pastel pony steal your pack from you!
>You lead him away until the singing is much quieter, and turn to face him.
>Spot’s glowing chest was the only light you had, and it gave his face a very sinister look, illuminated from beneath as it was.
>He glowered at you and advanced, raising a paw to swipe at you.
>Spot was smaller than you, but not by much, and his new heart probably gave him some extra power, because when you blocked his swing, it jarred your arm and would probably leave a bruise
>That was definitely not a normal Spot swing.
>He was not this strong at all.
>It was good to know that much at least. You’d have to be careful.
>You weren’t intending on fighting him head-on anyway, but it would keep you more wary of his swings.
>You block the next few attacks, then retaliate with a trip when he leaves himself open.
>He always fell for that before, and brainwashed Spot was no difference.
>Once he was on the ground, you ran a short distance away, pulled a torch off the wall and swiftly lit it.
>Your claw dragged across the striking stone you kept in your vest pocket and sparks flew, catching easily on the pitch-soaked torch.
>Now that you had a light, you could more easily see what was going on, as well as hear the song floating about the tunnels.

>>30006424
>Spot pulls himself back to his paws and approaches you once more, this time with his stance a lot lower.
>He wasn’t going to let you get away with that again.
>He lumbered forward, then broke into a dash, trying to bowl you over.
>You side-step him, pushing him against the wall next to you, and punch him in the gut.
>He doubles over, and you take the opportunity to get in a few more pot shots along his face, chest, and shoulders.
>Unfortunately it doesn’t faze him all that much, and he swings blindly at you with a paw.
>His enhanced strength sends you crashing to the ground, losing hold of the torch.
>You scramble to your paws, pulling yourself out of his reach as his claws slam into the ground where you were laying.
>You pick up your torch and move further down the tunnel, leading Spot on.
>The pony was following you, you were sure, but this might actually work in your favor.
>It was chancy, and likely to get you killed, but you had to modify your plan on the fly, like any good leader.
>And if it worked? All the better.
>You lead him down the tunnel to where you had been digging, egging him on the whole way.
>He was slower than you would have liked, and you suspected he had to maintain a certain distance from the pony.
>He specifically hung back sometimes, leading you to believe the pony needed to maintain control close by.
>You were curious if it would kill him or free him if that connection was severed, but you figured you were likely to find out if your crazy plan worked.
“Dog has to listen to pony, eh? Does dog not think for himself anymore? Does he want to listen to ponies all the time?”

>>30006429
Injuries, insults, and more injuries.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R

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>>30006435

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>>30007808

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>>30008633

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Just stumbled upon this and thought it was pretty well done. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ED7OA5ccTOY

>>30006435
>He was angry at you, but he didn’t seem able to come any closer, as if there was an invisible barrier he had to stay behind.
>It turned out to be pretty useful for you, as you could stay just out of reach.
>You were surprised, then, when you got closer to the gemstone, that he suddenly leaped out of what you had assumed to be the aura given by the pony, and grabbed you by the neck.
>His grip was incredibly strong, and your breath came in short gasps.
“Dog… is… weak.”
>Spot snarled and threw you against the wall of the tunnel, then slammed a paw into your chest.
>You fell to the ground, gasping for breath, and tried to crawl away.
>He slammed a paw down on your back, driving you into the dirt of the tunnel, then grabbed you by the neck again and lifted you up in front of him.
>The glow from his heart made him look much angrier than normal, but it gave you an idea.
“We are sorry, *gkkk* Spot.” You choked out.
>You punched him right in his exposed heart, his ribs absorbing much of the impact, but it made him loosen his grip.
>You suck in air gratefully, and punch him again.
>He grunts and lets go of you to cover his heart, protecting against any further attacks on it.
>But that was good enough. You drop to the ground, grab your torch, and scurry away, leading him up the tunnel to your small project.
>If you could get in there, this should all end, for better or worse.
>Spot chased after you once he realized you weren’t going to keep hitting him in the chest.
>You entered the tunnel you had dug, and soon after you comes Spot, filling the only exit.
>You could hear the singing of the pony coming up on you, you had only one shot at this.

>>30010335
“Dog is weak! Dog couldn’t possibly kill me! Dog is under orders not to, isn’t he? Can’t kill me. Gots to catch me instead! Even with all that fancy power dog has, he’s still not going to be the alpha!” You taunt.
>Spot bares his teeth and growls at you. You can see his veins bulging outward again, and his gem-heart’s glow intensified.
>You watched him carefully, waiting.
>He rewards you with an obvious leap forward, his claws digging deep into the soft limestone as you easily sidestep.
>He swipes at you again, and again you dodge, leaning out of the way.
>You step into him, pushing him head-first into the floor of the tunnel.
>He slams both paws into the ground angrily, and you’re rewarded with an ominous cracking sound.
>His unnatural strength was helping.
>He jumps to his paws and swings wildly backward at you, clipping you on the chin.
>Your head slams into the wall of the tunnel and you taste blood.
>You can’t tell where Spot is while your head swims, but you duck, hoping that he isn’t swinging low.
>You’re rewarded with his paw smashing into the wall above you, showering you with stones and dirt.
>You can feel the ground shifting beneath your paws, and you stumble, catching yourself and rolling away.
>You look up in time to see Spot leaping at you, and you put your left arm in front of you to block.
>Both his paws hit yours, and you feel a crack, the shock traveling up your limb.
>You were certain it was broken, but at least it wasn’t your ribs or face.
>You try to stand up, but you lose your footing as the floor of the tunnel shakes.
>Just a little more…
“We barely felt that! Dog is weak, weak, weaaaaak!”

>>30010361
>Spot roars and slams both his paws down again, and you block once more with the same arm.
>This would hurt, but you needed at least one arm in working condition for what was to come.
>Your left arm bends at a horrifying angle, and you grit your teeth from the pain as his paws slam your arm into your chest.
>It hurts an amazing amount, but it finally works, and the stone beneath you gives way.
>You feel weightless for a brief moment as you fall into the gemstone cavern, the bright red glow coming from underneath you shining on Spot’s surprised face.
>You twist, trying to get your legs underneath you for the rough landing, but you fail and land on top of the pile of gems that was left in the center.
>Their sharp points dig into your flesh upon impact, and you feel them scratching at you as you tumble down the side.
>Your arm hurts like the dickens, but you pull yourself up, wary of the guard dogs inside.
>Your arm clutched to your chest, you take stock of the room as fast as possible.
>Every single dog was clustered around the gemstone.
>Fido stood at the front, and Spot was picking himself up on the other side of the pile of gems.
>Every dog had a gemstone in place of their hearts, pulsing with the same colour of light as the gemstone they were guarding.
>You felt the tugging at your chest, insistent and inexorable, it was only a matter of time if you stayed this close.
>You were out of options.
“We… *ngh* …we would join you.” You say, your bleeding arm aching.
>Fido glares at you, but he moves out of the way, letting you see the nearly uncovered gemstone.
>You slowly step forward, balancing on your good arm.
>You come close to the gemstone, and feel your heart pressing painfully against your ribs.

>>30010368
>It pulses the colour of blood, filling your vision, and everything around you disappears.
>It’s just you and the gemstone now.
>It’s beautiful.
>It would make you strong.
>It would give you Equestria.
>It would give you the ponies, and all the gems you could ever want.
>It showed you tunnels criss-crossing Equestria from coast to coast.
>Squadrons of Diamond Dogs driving ponies from their homes and castles.
>It sounded good, when she said it.
>It sounded right.
>You felt a dull pain, and watched as your heart floated out of your chest up into the air in front of you.
>You dumbly realized you were failing your dogs.
>You already had.
>You should give up.
>You fell to your paws and knees before the gem, and a sharp pain brought the rest of the world back to you.
>Your broken arm couldn’t support you, and landing on it had caused you a lot of pain.
>Your heart was still floating in front of you, but this was your chance! Dead or not, you had to take it!
>You surged forward, legs thrusting you up toward the center of the ruby-coloured cube, and your right arm swung forward, claws extended.
>You felt your claws dig into the gemstone, and once you were certain you had a grip, you ripped upward, shredding chunks of ruby out of it.
>You heard a keening wail fill the air, and the magic holding your heart up flickered, but you swung again, claws digging into the gouge you’d put in it already.
>You bored toward the center, and that sinister flickering glow.
>The dogs around you had fallen to the ground, and you felt your strength fading.
>With one last strike, you dug your paw into the center, and cracked the gemstone in half, splitting it into two.

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>>30010396
>The wailing got louder and louder, then suddenly broke off, fading to nothingness.
>Your heart, which had been supported entirely by the thing’s magic, fell to the ground.
>You watched it fall, dumbly, and felt something wet covering your chest.
>You looked down, shadows covering your vision, and you saw blood pouring out of the gaping wound in your chest.
>You fell over as if in slow motion, but were caught by someone.
>Fido turned you over to look up at him, that glowing gem still in his chest.
>It looked strange, and they would have to explain it eventually, but for now, they were safe, and they were themselves.
>That was all you wanted.
>They would live.
>Your dogs… would live.
>You vision was rapidly fading, and you could no longer breathe.
>With the last of your air, you weakly tell them:
“Good… dogs…”

The end.

>>30010407
A Pyrrhic victory for Rover.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/mUMgZY3R


This one was weird to write. The Diamond Dogs are strong. Incredibly strong. They dig tunnels, caves, and can easily overpower a pony, but they're simple. Rover was clearly in charge, so he was the main character, but giving him something he couldn't, or didn't WANT to fight proved challenging. I'm not entirely happy with it, but I hope it was entertaining.

I think I know what the next thing I want to write will be, but if someone has suggestions or ponies they want to have stories written about, drop them in the thread. Give me some scenarios and we'll see, as usual.

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>>29998713
I don't think Timberwolves are actual living, sentient beings.
>made of wood
>glowing eyes
>don't seem to need to eat
>pull themselves together when falling appart
Aren't they more like golems rather than animals? Most of the time, golems are described as creatures made of inanimate matter and brought to life by a mage using them as puppets just like a necromancer would do with reanimated corpses. Now the question is: if Timberwolves are actual golems, who could be the "mage" creating and controlling them? Could it be the Everfree Forest itself? Timberwolves seem to attack ponies on sight, are they defending something? Are they defending the Forest itself, acting like antibodies? I always imagined the Everfree Forest as some sort of corrupted superorganism with its own will, being the only part of the Kingdom ponies have absolutely no control over.
I love this new headcanon already.

>>30010578
Dude. I love that headcanon as well. I've thought about it before, but I never considered the timberwolves to be golems. But if you think about the animals in the Everfree we've seen, we have the Timberwolves, Cragadiles, and those nasty-ass gas plants that all seem to be inanimate things made animate. Mileage may vary, but that sounds like something in there is animating them. The timberwolves even combined to make a super timberwolf once, so that even suggests a higher intelligence SOMEWHERE, if it isn't the timberwolves themselves. That's creepy as all hell.

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>>30010685

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>>30011418

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>>30011959

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>>30010578
>>30010685

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>>30013172

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>>30012621

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Trixie had been traveling for about four days now, the heat of the San Palomino desert making it a sweltering and exhausting journey. She had made the trip before, so she wasn’t lost, nor was she worried about running out of water, but when you were your own source of power for the trip, it was tiring. Her wagon was an integral part of her show, having been custom ordered, so she wasn’t going to leave it behind. She was itinerant, not homeless. She just couldn’t ride the rails like so many others could.
Oh, she’d done it once, but when all you have are a few supplies and no place to set up your show, your performance becomes limited. So she’d bought the wagon, had it built with all sorts of tricks and spaces in mind, and had her own personal stage. A beautiful stroke of genius if she said so herself. Which she did. Frequently.
But pulling such a beast around, especially further south, became a tiring prospect, leaving her sweaty, tired, and a bit of a mess. It wasn’t all bad, because it meant she could arrive in a town, leave her wagon to advertise for her while she freshened up, then, when all the ponies had gathered together, make a grand entrance! Also a stroke of genius, if she did say so herself. Which she did.
Four days in the San Palomino desert were murder, though. The sun hat she was wearing did little to stop the heat, even if it stopped the sun. She could see Applewood in the distance, but that didn’t mean much. At her current pace it could take her another day or so to reach it. There should have been a smaller town at an oasis somewhere out here, but she hadn’t spotted it yet. It may have been abandoned. That happened out here in the desert.

>>30014632
Trixie kept plodding slowly along as night fell. It was easier to travel at night with the heat, but she had to be careful. She had two spare wheels, but it was still risky to travel in the dark, and her horn would only light up so much. Not to mention the dangerous wildlife. She took calculated risks, and so she only traveled a short time into dusk, until the darkness became absolute, then she slept through the darkest hours, woke up and traveled during the morning hours when it was still relatively cool, then slept during the hottest hours of the day, and picked it up again during evening. Smart traveling if she did say so herself. Which she did.
Tonight looked to be a very auspicious night for her as well. Clouds had moved in from the west, and they looked to be rather dark. That could mean rain during the night or early tomorrow morning! In preparation, Trixie made sure that her wagon was set up on solid ground, and the wheel locks were firmly in place. She shored up the wheels with some carefully placed wooden wedges, took one last look at the cloudy sky, and climbed inside. She had earned a good rest. She washed her face, pulled down her cot, and went to sleep.
She was awoken during the night by the sound of thunder directly overhead, accompanied by extremely heavy rainfall. Sure enough, it had rained as she had rightly predicted. She had no idea how early or late in the morning it was, as the black clouds prevented all but the most stubborn light coming through. It would be foolish to travel during this storm anyway. She laid back down and tried to rest, but the constant thunder kept her awake.

>>30014636
Trixie decided instead to make some good use of the rain, since she couldn’t sleep. She pulled out all of the empty water barrels and other containers she had and dragged them outside. She was soaking wet almost immediately, but she needed the bath anyway. Her wet mane was plastered to her neck, and her tail was dragging in the mud, but she got all the barrels into place next to the wagon, and looked up at the sky.
It was angry and black, with flashes of light making a constant appearance as they criss-crossed the clouds, clashing with each other in the darkness. They fired their bolts back and forth, a celestial game of catch until one would inevitably drop the ball down to Equestria itself, a spike of lightning briefly connecting the ground with the sky. Sights like these were what made traveling so amazing for Trixie. Not many ponies got to see these sorts of things, and so her stories were that much more amazing for them. Only the greatest and most powerful would dare travel Equestria alone, and that was her. The Great and Powerful Trixie.
She watched for a while longer, unable to see much in between the brief flashes of light. She looked across the landscape to the horizon, and she thought she saw something moving across the desert. A pony? Wildlife? She squinted and waited for the next flash of lightning. In the momentary illumination, she saw a square-ish outline on the horizon. Not too far away from her, actually. It looked like buildings. Possibly that small town she had missed before that connected Appleloosa and Applewood. If so, that was good. She could pick up some food and maybe earn a little cash depending on how rich they were. She hadn’t run into any other trading caravans or anything crossing the desert, so she wouldn’t be surprised if it had been mostly abandoned. Always a risk with places like these, especially with the trains.

>>30014643
Trixie's alone out in the desert.

Updated my journal: https://pastebin.com/xGNN9zYs

Trixie's a pretty good character for horror because she spends so much time alone, traveling. Good for those: "Driving alone at night" horror stories. This one may end up pretty short, but we'll see.

That's another question, would you enjoy a longer-running constantly connected story or short stories? Personally, being no Stephen King, it's easy to write shorter stories, and I don't know how well I'd manage a longer one.

Which do you prefer? Longer or shorter horror stories?

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>>30014657
Just go with what you prefer. I like both short and long stories tbqh. If you feel like writing short stories is easier for you, then just keep writing short stories. That's fine. Longer stories will eventually come later if you feel like one of them deserves more development than the others.
>>30010429
Pretty good story by the way.

Speaking of long-running stories, are you still here Luke? >>29970504

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>>30013879

>>30015408
Glad you enjoyed the Rover story. It was really difficult to write well. Is there anything you found wrong with it so that I can fix it in the future? Something poorly handled?

>>30014657
I like long, epic ongoing stories with lots of character development and backstory, action, romance, comedy. But this short story format you are using is perfect for horror. Keep it up!

Also, your writing about my waifu. Sqeeee!

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>>30016312
Glad you like it. I just wanted to know if there was something I could do to improve the stories, but if there's no problems, then I'll keep going as-is.

Hope I do your waifu justice then. I'm sorry to say she probably won't have a very good time.

>On the last day of the end of the world, Sweetie Belle helps you to dress.
>Your shame at needing the help faded weeks ago. Your left arm doesn't work right anymore, and hasn't since the infection REALLY got started. Open sores grace your flesh, pockmarking you in bloody, pussy craters filled with drunkenly squirming black fibers.
>Today only a few of the tiny, omnipresent insectoids the Equestrian press dubbed "pinheads" back when all of this got started seem interested in you, flying up to investigate you and moving away again.
>You're already infected, like every last living thing in this world, so the infectious aerial vector doesn't care much about you
>A few of them squirm delightedly among the fibers in your sores. You resolutely refuse to look at the massive open wound in your thigh, where dozens or hundreds of the teeny monsters are trundling back forth doing god-knows-what. Turning you into a hive, probably.
>No use trying to keep them out. Only extreme heat kills them, or acid, or direct impact, and that always brings thousands more in painful retaliation, and they eventually get into anything that isn't hermetically sealed, as all of Equestria found out months ago shortly after they'd first appeared out of nowhere.

(Should I continue?)

>>30016918
By all means, yes. Please do.
Body Horror is horror.

>>30016918
>>30016945
>You eventually learned to just let the little bastards do their thing. It was less painful.
>You'd been awakened by the two shining, heavy steel disks appearing in a flash of teleport magic in your bedroom this morning. Each of them had a round bulge in the middle and they were warm to the touch. Of course, almost anything these days was warm to the touch.
>The Pinheads liked it cold, you see, the colder the better. Which was why even now, in late June, the air had winter's chill.
>You'd told Suburst and Glimmer everything you knew of thermonuclear weapons, which really wasn't much. You'd given them some of your books and the use of your laptops three months ago, when it had first begun to look as if all of Equss mught fall to the Pinhead Plague.
>It was enough.
>It hadn't taken them long at all to figure out how to magically refine pitchblende into uranium and how to process that into purified U235. Which would initiate a fusion reaction in the magically-compressed, lithium-jacketed metallic deuterium/tritium mixture. >Which would, in turn, be amplified by a hundred orders of magnitude by the rings of glowing crystals, each invested with the last of Princess Celestia's carefully-hoarded power.
>You'd had to explain tonnage equivalents to TNT to them. The letter explained that the yield of each device would be somewhere in the range of 20,000 petatons, and for obvious reasons, they would never be able to test them. But they should work.
>A two-unicorn Manehattan Project in a couple of months. Holy fuck, even now Equestria could amaze you.

>>30016962
>the shaky, barely-legible, blood-and-pus stained letter with them also explained apologetically that they'd had to skip most of the radiation shielding for ease of transport and carrying, which meant that both you and Sweetie Belle had already taken a lethal dose of radiation from them. Both Glimmer and Sunburst had been infected and dying of radiation poisoning as they'd written it, and were probably dead by this point
>Lucky them.
>they could have detonated the devices from wherever they'd chosen to set up their soapbox nuclear laboratory, but given that the Pinhead Plague spread between dimensions and that (surprise!) Ponyville was going to be the most likely egress point as they spread to a new world, the sterilization point really needed to be here to be as certain as possible
>And because this is where Twilight was. You had to be SURE.
With shaky hooves, Sweetie helps you to secure the bomb harness to your bulging, bloated abdomen, the skin pasty and pale.
>One bomb in front, the other behind. It's not comfortable, but nothing is anymore. You feel Pinheads and black tendrils shift and shudder uncomfortably in your flesh beneath the devices' baking heat. Sweetie has a fire blazing away in the hearth, even if she can't get very close to it herself. She helps you to get a shirt over your head.
>"Are you afraid?" she asks. Her voice is a soft whisper.
>you see yourself in a mirror on the other side of the room. The left half of your gaunt, sickly face is drooping, and there's a massive, encrusted sore beneath your bloodshot left eye. Almost all of your hair is gone, your scalp scabby with swollen patches. The shirt mercifully hides the most grotesque sores, where black, seaweedy tendrils reach out and blindly quest.

>>30016985
>You lick dry, cracked lips with a parched, discolored tongue. In the mirror it goes to the side, even though you felt as if you were sticking it out straight. "No," you say, your voice slurred. it's almost true. Almost. "I can't imagine much worse than being like...this. Watching this happen."
>"Me either," she says. Half her face is covered under a swatch of dirty bandages, to hide the missing eye and the half-clotted sores. She's been staying with you since the day a month ago when you'd put down Rarity, who had been locked in an upstairs bedroom in the Boutique after she'd attacked her sister.
>She'd finally thrown herself through the window after screaming for three straight days and nights about going to find God, or Mama or the Princess. Her infested body had burst asunder on impact, spilling out masses of black tendrils and sacks filled with pinheads and their spawn.
>You'd dealt with what had been left so Sweetie wouldn't have to see it.
>And now, by your reckoning, you're the last living things in Ponyville.
>Except Twilight.

>>30016998
>"I dreamed of Rarity last night, you know," she says. "We were sitting in front of the fire, drinking cocoa and talking, and then she hugged me and told me she loved me. It was so ordinary, so...so plain, I guess. And then she kissed me and I woke up crying. So ordinary and yet..." she starts to quietly weep.
>You pull her to you in a hug with your good hand, and you stroke her face and mane. It's patchy and more of her fur falls out with each touch. "I know, kiddo. I do it too."
>"D-do you think she--she's waiting for me?" she sobs. "With mom and dad?"
>"I know they are, sweetie," you say. And for one solitary second you let yourself believe that they are. You're completely immune to mind-affecting magic, soul-confining spells and illusion. You have no magic spark.
>Luna could enter your dreams, but only by a supreme, exhausting effort of will, and separating herself was even harder. She'd only ever done it twice.
>You and twilight had talked about it, years ago. You couldn't create a self-aware entity without some level of thaumic flux. And you were quite obviously self-aware, which suggested that, in some way, however minimal, your nervous system had some sort of thaumic potential, even if it was so miniscule it couldn't be detected.

>>30017008
>But...and this was a big but...without an actual magical spark, it wasn't a sure thing at all that you had an actual *soul,* at least one capable of existing independently of a physical frame.
>In which case, IF it were true--and she didn't know for sure if it was--your brain was a beautiful, tragic wonder, a biological quantum supercomputer that didn't need ambient magical fields to do the heavy lifting, and on death, everything about you would simply unravel forever.
>Which was, unfortunately, the simplest explanation for why magic that affected the soul sloughed off of you like water of a duck's back. There was nothing there it COULD affect.
>She'd wanted to do more tests. You'd declined, and even long before you'd arrived in Equestria, you'd basically decided it was irrelevant, and you didn't want to know anyway. >And she saw your point.
>"They're waiting for us all, Sweetie," you say, holding her face and looking directly into her good eye with your own. You smile, with difficulty. "It's going to be better than here. I can promise you that."
>Nonexistence would be better than this.

>>30016874
That's ok. Octavia is my second favorite pony, so I'm used to not having happy stories to read. You did good with her so I know you'll do Trixie justice.

>>30017018
>She touches the device on your front beneath your shirt. You hadn't hidden what they were from her. Her reaction to them and their purpose had honestly been relief.
>Your skin burns and itches beneath them. You feel as if you've got an all-over sunburn, one that's spreading to your insides. In a few hours, a day at most, you'd be dying anyway.
>But you've been living with pain that made the worst illness you've ever had look like a summer cold for weeks now, and dying of rad poisoning was a kinder way to go than what the pinhead plague had stored for either of you.
>You kiss her forehead. "Do you need me to go with you, Anon?" she asks. "because...if it's all the same to you, I just want to stay here. I want to lie down in front of the fire, and stay as warm as the pin...the...stay as warm as I can. I'm so tired."
>She can't get too close to heat, anymore than you can. But the fire is a psychological comfort. You fumble a bit and she hoofs you up a bottle of the whiskey you've been constantly drinking for weeks.
>the drunker you are, the more sluggish the black alien tissues and parasites spread through your body become. Nothing stopped them, but being drunk slowed them down, made them drowsy. So you'd stayed as drunk as possible for as long as possible, even though your stomach always clenched and spasmed when you first took a sip.
>You take a deep slug. You cough, and spray blood and pus and twitching black bits into your hand. You study it for a second and them wipe the mess indifferently off on your shirt. The horror of anything fades if you live with it long enough. "No, Sweetie," you say. "You can stay here, if you want. It won't be long, I promise."

>>30017032
>"Will it hurt?"
>"No," you say. "Neither of us will even know it when it happens." You stand, with difficulty--not only are you drunk, and sick, but your pipestem, sore-encrusted limbs are weak and unsteady. the only thing thick about you these days is your bulging abdomen, filled with squirming alien life.
>With an effort of will, you force them to stop trembling.
>"That's good," she sighs. "But...it doesn't matter, I guess. I just want this to be over soon." She stares into your face for a long second, and then takes your good hand in a hoof She kisses it tenderly.
>"Make an end of it, Anon. Please go with Celestia and end this." She hoofs you the shotgun, which you'd kept for self-defense and never needed.
>It would serve now. twilight, poor unwitting twilight, had to be dealt with. Her final attempt to stop the plague had instead doomed the world.

>>30017039
>Sweetie staggered drunkenly away from you and laboriously climbs onto the couch in front of the fire, as close to it as she can get before the pinheads larvae and fibers endlessly crawling beneath her skin become restless and aggravated. She collapses in a heap, her eyes closing almost at once.
>She'll be asleep when the end comes. You feel a sense of monumental relief, and a weight lifting off of your shoulders.
>You leave the house for the first time in days, your legs shaking with the effort. You look up, the shrunken, salmon-colored sun high in the sky, a frigid wind blowing. There's been no rain since the weather service failed, no precipitation at all, and whatever the pinhead plague had gotten from Twilight had allowed them to both absorb and subsume Celestia. >They liked it cold, but they needed energy to move between worlds.
>And they were getting both, by draining the sun itself.
>Clouds of pinheads surround the trees, blowing in the wind like fog. In the vast distance you can see tall, chitinous, fungoid towers swaying gently over the dead Everfree, visible even through clouds and gray drifts of of alien insect life.
>Far away in the opposite direction, Canterlot is visible on the mountainside. Even from here, you can see crumbling towers, blackened beneath what you know is a blanket of black squirming tendrils and sacs and crawling pinheads.
>Here in Ponyville, no pony moves in the streets, all the windows are closed, locked and boarded up, with only the everpresent mosquito buzz of alien insect life to indicate anything at all still lives. On the ground are trails, tracks and black, glistening sheets of trundling, wingless pinhead workers, toting tiny bits of material in random directions for who knows what purpose. A lot of them seem to be heading for...
>Twilight's castle. It's now a mass of black, waving fronds and bulbous, tumorous excrescences bulging right from the cracked, dulled crystal.

>>30017059

Working, just give me a bit.

File: 346762.jpg (15KB, 328x345px) Image search: [Google]

15KB, 328x345px

Oh boi we've got a new writefriend. Nice.

>>30017027
>Octavia
Muh nigguh.

>>30017189
No hurry. It's good and horrible so far.

>>30015408
Yes, just enjoying Wax's magnificent content.
I think I'll wait and finish my HoW spinoff since I'm right at the end of that story anyway. That way I can devote my full attention to this thread.
>>30014632
>Trixie story
Yay best horse get's some scares.

>>30017239

Horrible in a good way, I hope.

>>30017211
This image reminds me of Bravest Face.
Nice.

>>30017277
Oh yeah, that's what I meant. That's why I prefaced it with good.
Like an enemy you'd see in Resident Evil.

>>30017269
>finish my HoW spinoff
>Yay best horse get's some scares.
When are you gunna finish you HoW Trixie spinoff story?

>>30017307
>>30017059
>You begin limping towards it. A quarter of a mile, an easy walk, if you weren't so weak and sick. Neither of your legs is working that well, but your left is barely supporting the weight of you and your precious cargo.
>You recognized the signs of a stroke days ago. By some malignant miracle of the alien infestation, you'd still been left functional, even if some of your memories were a scrambled mess. Even if you found yourself chattering with "Mother" or "God" from time to time, at increasing frequency. You know what's happening to you.
>Your dreams, when they weren't nightmares, or dreams of better days that might as well have been nightmares after you woke from them, were visions and vistas of black, crawling life, alien landscapes, bubbling oceans of squirming black fronds and black paper skies, and you merely one tiny insect one among them, crawling and guzzling your way mindlessly through the corpses of alien animals.
>And those dreams were the worst.
>Because they felt so *right.*
>You stop to rest on a bench, and a cloud of thousands of pinheads scatters from beneath it at the disturbance. Your insides clench and spasm in pain, and you hunch over and vomit. You resolutely refuse to look at the mess, knowing what you'll see.
>Something squirms in your mouth, and you spit it out. You pull your bottle from your pocket and force yourself to drink as much of the contents as you can stand. You're going to be rolling drunk when you reach the castle, but you have to be sober enough to do what must be done. You look at your left hand and force it to clench and unclench, and with some effort, it obeys your commands.

>>30017357
>Good. It works well enough and it won't need any more precision than that. "Just one more job you have to do, hand," you whisper. "Just one, and we can all rest."
>You reflexively swat at the sensation of something running up your leg with your right hand. A fist-sized spiderlike monstrosity with a black, soft, spongy body bursts in a spray of stinking pus-yellow ichor. Your own load of alien tissues squirms for a few seconds, but the drink has done its job, and the pinheads in your own flesh are too inebriated to react.
>Unfortunately, more of the things are swarming in your direction, responding to the death of one of their number. Oh fuck.
>You force yourself to your feet, and into a shambling run. More of them are coming out from under every surface, swarming out of windows and from under the eaves of roofs, and with them are coming clouds of winged pinheads. You're not going to be able to outrun them. Not in your current condition.
>far behind you, you hear a crash and scream, and the insectoids suddenly dart in a different direction away from you. You dare to stop and turn around.

>>30017370
>Far behind you, you see Sweetie Belle, screaming. She's holding bottles with burning rags in their open tops in her magic and slinging them one by one into the masses of squirming alien fronds and crawling masses of insectoids. She's screaming at the top of her lungs and making as much noise as she can, diverting pursuit away from you. Some of the houses around her are burning.
>"Oh no. Sweetie, oh no...no no no..." your voice is slurred, you aren't even sure you're talking otherwise. "No no no..."
>"OVER HERE YOU FUCKS! OVER HERE!" she screams over and over again.
>Clouds of gray fog are descending on her in buzzing sheets. For a second, you see a bubble of force spring up around her, and then it flickers and collapses. And then she's lost to view, and you can only hear her shrieks as she's torn apart from both without and within. Finally, mercifully, they stop.
>You stare hopelessly at the spectacle. Your feel something trickling down your face, and as you reach up with your right hand, you realize you're crying.
>Just your right eye. Your left doesn't do much of anything these days. You start to collapse, and then will yourself not to. if you do, you'll never have the strength to get up again.

>>30017382
>*She's bought you time, Anon, don't waste it,* a clear voice in your head says. It sounds almost like your mother--the real one, not the alien not-voice you hear from time to time. Your mind babbles madly. Hi, mom, you died years ago, and how's the afterlife treating you? Is there one? One way or another I'm about to find out. Or are you just another sign of my insanity? I didn't know I was going to die a functional alcoholic, just like Dad did, I guess it DOES run in families...
>the voice doesn't respond. You realize that you've been standing here swaying for a least a minute. But by some miracle the pinheads aren't paying any attention to you now.
>They're still swarming over whatever's left the body of Sweetie at the far end of the street behind you, you guess. There are sheets and swarms of antlike workers making their way in that direction, presumably to scavenge whatever's left.
>You force yourself to turn away and resume your limping journey to the end of everything.

>>30017311
Oh shit I completely forgot about that, I'd have to reread what I had to get a refresher, but for now it's still on the H word.

>>30017391
>You have only one more encounter before you reach it--as you've stopped for one last breather, you're alerted to the sound of a loud, chitinous buzzin, loud, almost electronic.
>You remain still this time. The thing emerges from around the edge of a building, a hovering, misshapen black mass of jointed, clawed limbs, randomly-placed, multiple, mirror-bright compound eyes and buzzing echelons of wings across its body. It's surrounded by swarms of winged pinheads, masses of them clinging to it and climbing in and out of holes in its body.
>But as grotesque as it is, what really sets it off is the patchy blue fur still clinging to parts of its body, and the head of the pony it had apparently grown from dangling upside down off its back, still connected to the rest of it by fibers of drying tissue, swaying back and forth with its motions like some sort of horrible ornament, her dead, glazed eyes staring off at nothing.
>You belatedly recognize her as Colgate, the town's resident dentist. You hope she's dead. It's not a safe assumption to make anymore.
>You remain still as it approaches, its multiple eyes staring fixedly at you. In seconds, the buzzing, grotesque thing is in front of it, two eyes on twitching, jointed stalks studying you from all sides. The chattering, buzzing hum is so loud and deep your chest and sinuses are vibrating with it.
>the squirming alien life inside of you twitches a bit at the disturbance, and you wonder what they're saying to each other, if anything. They were so alien that it was an open question about whether it (meaning the plague itself) was truly sapient or not, and always would be. If it WAS sapient, it expressed no interest or ability in communicating.
>Hair-filled tubes twitch and puff, filling the air with the stink of cockroach and rotting meat. You remain motionless as it studies you at close range. After seemingly forever, it finally moves on, apparently regarding you as completely uninteresting.

>>30017569

(the story that editing forgot, go me!)

>>30017508
Ah, I'll try to remind pester you about it from time to time then. Keep up the good work Luke

>>30017569
>You get up and continue your stagger, stopping once more to take another pull off of your bottle of whiskey. For your money you could use some Gatorade right now, or even just some cold, clean water.
>In just a few more minutes, it won't matter though.
>And then you're finally at your destination, standing before the partially open doors of the Castle of Friendship, now a mass of pulpy black alien tissue and dangling, sac-covered fronds crawling with insectile life.
>some of them stir as you enter. You drain the last of your whiskey. Once upon a time, you'd have been completely unconscious by this point, but over the last three months, your ravaged body has apparently grown accustomed to working under a massive load of alcohol. >And maybe the pinheads are helping to process it for you. You've been going through a couple of fifths a day easy for almost the last month. You can't go for very long without it anymore. You'd actually thought it took longer to get to that point, but this has been a year of discovery, really. All of it bad.
>This will be your third of the day, and, hopefully, your last. Just as well, it was getting hard to find booze in town, especially without Sweetie Belle to help you scavenge. Wonder if the pinheads have an AA program? Maybe you should try to explain the concept to Mother, organize a 12-step. "Hi, I'm Anon, and I'm an alien-infested alcoholic."
>You realize you're giggling, bloody drool running down the left side of your mouth, and you'd been thinking of that black, chitinous mass in your darkest dreams as "Mother." >You force yourself to stop and wipe your bloody mouth with your right hand. And involuntarily you cough. Teeth hit the ground, and you can feel tendrils squirming from the sockets like hair, tasting of cold metal and death.

>>30017777
>Carefully, you pull the deadman switch out of your pocket and force your left hand to open. You pull the pin and stick it back in, and it closes again on it, pressing the lever. You feel the devices on your harness suddenly begin to pulse. You're going to have concentrate to open it, which you're unable to decide is going to be a good thing or a bad thing, but it doesn't matter anymore because you'll need at least one hand free.
>You carefully unsling the shotgun from your shoulders, and, steeling yourself as best as you can, you enter.
>Once upon a time, the Castle had been a softly-glowing fairyland of colorful glowing crystal columns, plush carpeting and lush appointments, a comforting, welcoming place that was a perfect reflection of its mistress. You suppose it still WAS a perfect reflection.
>But now, though, it's dark with masses of insectoids hanging from the walls in twitching sheets, among masses of glistening black tendrils that cover each and every surface like roots. Except that no natural plant has roots that twitch and pulse and shiver when light falls on them. The air is ice-cold and so dry you can feel your parched lips cracking.
>You'd ducttaped a flashlight to the end of the shotgun. You think back to all the Alien movies you'd watched as a kid and have to stifle a bray of involuntary laughter.
>As bad as xenomorphs seemed to be, the pinhead plague made them look positively harmless and benign--after all, didn't they just kill their prey instead of forcing them to linger for weeks and months, feeling their bodies slowly warped and twisted into incubators for swarms of bugs? They were practically merciful.
>You switch on the light and enter, trying to remain steady on your feet. Some of the alien life twitches and vibrates grotesquely as light falls on it, but nothing molests you.

>>30017788
>You know that if you'd been parasite-free, everything in here would already be attacking you. As best as you can in your drunken, sickly state, you try to avoid stepping on anything alive lest you accidentally kill something that brings retaliation. You make your limping way down the hallway and to the central chamber.
>And there at the center, you see...
>"H-h-hello, Anon-Anon-Anon..."
>Twilight. Oh God...
>She's sitting at the crystal table, at her customary place, and that's where normalcy completely ends.
>All of the tendrils and fibers and rootlike fronds cross the ceiling and merge into a thick column of squirming, black, hole-filled alien tissue that comes down behind her throne. She's connected to it the mass by thousands of black fibers, most of them merging with her spinal column--now mostly exposed--and her horn.
>Most of her skin is gone. There are still patches of fur and hide on her face, but most of the left side of her jaw was exposed to the bone, covered with weedy, hairy black fibers. Clouds of pinheads flock around her like smoke, the tiny insectile things crawling on every surface of her body. She makes no move to wipe off the crawling mats of bugs.
>Sacs and fronds squirm among the visible bones of her ribcage.
>She probably can't even feel any of it.
>the frigid air smells like rotten meat, cockroach and old, runny, liquid shit. there are old shit-stains on the floor.
>You'd thought you couldn't be shocked anymore. The last discovery in a year of discoveries.
>"I'm g-g-g-glad you could make it, Anon-anon-anon-anon," she says brightly. Her voice buzzes slightly, and pinheads crawl through her smiling mouth. "Mother is very happy-happy-happy with the pr-pro-progress we've made. Did you know that she has never en-encountered magic before? On any-any world?"
>her words skip and stutter like a glitching CD.

>>30017938
>"Hello, twilight," you say, your words slurred and feeling as if they're coming from a great distance. "It's been a while."
>She crawls down from the throne laboriously and limbs toward you, coming as close to you as her alien, organic restraints will allow her. One tiny corner of your mind notes irrelevantly that the shit-stains are at about the same distance.
>You see that the reason she's limping is because one of forehooves is missing, only comblike, pinkish tissue, squirming black tendrils and bone in its place. She doesn't seem to notice.
>"We-we-we-we-we've been busy, SUB T/6 times E squared." she babbles, one eye unnaturally bright and locked on your face, the other glazed and staring off at nothing. "S-sorry. Got carried-carried away. Studies, you know..." She gestures around with her truncated leg.
>You see that, among the stains on the floor are masses of scrawled equations that mean nothing to you, except that you notice the familiar E=MC^2 in a few of them. "P-p-art of my friendship studies. Princess Mother is showing me things I never knew about f-f-friendship! Learned so much, Sp-sp-spike? Take a letter, dear priiiiiiincess moth-mother.." She pauses. "Spike? Where are you-you-you--"
>"Spike isn't here," you slurr out. You knew that, because he'd died weeks ago. One of the fungal columns on the edge of town was all that was left. Even dragons weren't immune to the pinhead plague.
>"Don't be silly, he was here-here-here just a few minutes ago," she stutters. "S-spike? Oh well." She looks back at you, her good eye rolling madly in its socket. "Mother has taught me so much, so many things-things-things! We found your world, too! So many worlds! You'll g-g-g-get to go home again-again," she says brightly.
>Your mouth drops open. "Oh Twilight, no." It comes out like a sob.

>>30018087
>Her horn sparks, and images appear in the air around you. "We c-c-can reach them! What Celestia showed Mother and I-I-I will let us-us-us open multiple gates. Over 800 at once! That thaaaaaaaat's never happened b--b-before, ever! Mother can spread herself to everywhere. Spreading INTEGRAL 626 friendship to so-so-so-many new worlds..." She stops talking to you then, instead mumbling fragments of math equations, only barely intelligible.
>You understand what's happening. The plague is using poor, genius Twilight as a living computer system. Even if it's not sapient, it can apparently recognize a useful tool.
>her left eye bulges from its socket. With a wet PLOP it falls to the floor, and black cilia wave drunkenly from the empty socket. "Fraction-space energy capacitance at 100%," she mumbles. "Almost...almost enough-enough-enough." She gestures vaguely at the images she's projecting.
>The one you do recognize is a distorted view of a city skyline. You recognize it because you'd visited there less than a month before you'd been swept up into this world. "Home! Home! Home!" she babbles. "We can all go h-h-home! Moth-mother says so!" she cries out. "Almost ready! Just a few-few-few minutes!"
>And then she realizes you're holding the shotgun in your right hand as best as you can, aiming it in her direction. Her remaining eye widens.

>>30018318
>You squeeze the shotgun's trigger. Half of her head explodes like an overripe cantaloupe, and she hits the floor, squalling. You start squeezing the trigger, trying to sever or damage as many of the black tendrils as you can as fast as you can.
>She twitches and convulses, but the reaction from the insect life is nothing short of immediate. the ground shakes and you feel something like a slow quake move the ground, accompanied by a low groan you can feel in your bones. "Mother" is screaming.
>the door behind you slams.
>The black column is swaying, tendrils lashing at you. You understand that Mother is injured, but with so much of her attention focused on opening so many fresh gates, she has to divide her attention and she's really not used to it. Not without her organic adjutant on the floor there.
>Why are you calling her HER?
>You empty the last of your shotgun's ammunition into Mother's swaying central trunk, and she screams. This time you feel it in your head, behind your ears. You sway drunkenly as the inebriated alien life inside of you belatedly responds to her commands. tendrils burst from your left arm, trying to wrap your hand.
>You still manage to drop the deadman switch. it hits the floor, the arming light going from green to red, and you feel two loud tones pulse from the devices in their harness and a beeping, one per second.

>>30018325
>Oh fuck. There's a DELAY?
>From all sides of the room, a smoggy mass of black pinheads is flying at you in a cloud. Your entire body screams in pain. The sore on your leg explodes in a spray of fluid and suddenly you're coverd in flying razorblades, desperate to tear you apart. You're on hthe floor, your left leg completely gone.
>Thousands of them are trying to burrow their way into the devices, and suddenly the thought comes, unbidden, that you have to try to disarm them now, before Mother is hurt. She's hurting and she needs her son, you have to help her.
>There are hundreds of distortions appearing all around you in the air. She's moving her timetable up a bit and trying to punch holes out of reality as fast as she can. For you! Her favored son! Your heart leaps--you're going home! Mother is sending you home! Yay! Isn't Mother wonderful?
>And your head clears, just for a second, and the unreasoning love you feel for your alien parasite load cuts off like a switch. And then you understand why.
>White fire is flaring around you, and thousands of the demonic little things are being incinerated. There's a brightly-glowing white hemisphere around you, and millions of pinheads are immolating themselves against it. When your vision clears more you see the source.

>>30018330
>Twilight's lying on her side on the floor where your first shotgun round had put her, half of her skull gone. But her cracked, sparking horn is glowing with power. Her remaining eye is locked on you, and you see tears shimmering there.
>It looks in the direction of the towering column of black tissue, and suddenly white fire blossoms across the surface like napalm. The ground shudders and Mother screams again. Each of the distortions is now a mirrored sphere, with a distorted image of the lands beyond showing on it. Twilight is still pouring fire into the shuddering trunk, even as the pinheads are falling on her ruined body in wave after wave.
>The devices beeping suddenly slides into a continuous tone. Oh fucking hell, they're defective? Goddamn, GlimGlam, you had ONE FUCKING JO--

File: Boom.gif (2MB, 320x214px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 320x214px

>>30018342

>>30018355

>>On the first morning of the end of the world, Lyra awakened from the latest in a long series of nightmares covered from head to toe with oozing sores.

>>30018418

Done.

https://pastebin.com/MyihLTVg

>>30018437
That
Was
AWESOME!!
but what about poor Lyra?

>>30018463

Alt-Lyra is patient zero in the new feeding ground :).

Anon almost won. Almost.

>>30018463

Also, thank you ^_^

>>30018418
>>30018437
Awwww nice! Body horror isn't my kind of horror, but that was good. A horrible alien enemy, a valiant pyrrhic victory, and a promise of more awful shit.
Good horror man. Thank you for writing.

>>30018699

Thanks--I literally awoke one night last week with it in my head, and I had to get it out somehow. I wrote a lot of it to this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4S-5ihzUkM4

I felt kinda bad for ending it the way I did, but...I knew this wasn't going to be a happy ending. It just didn't work otherwise. I'm glad you kind of enjoyed it, even if it wasn't your thing.

>>30018785
I just don't go seeking it out that often. I've watched Wishmaster, Hellraiser, and all that. I'm not squeamish about it, it just doesn't scare me at all. It's just gross. That said, I can still appreciate the story of body horror if it's done well.

>>30010407

Oh jesus fuck. This is beautiful. And the ending moreso.

Welcome to my big list o' awesome pastebins to archive-binge on, writefriend.

>>30018808

I'm sort of a Cronenberg fan. That said, it's not a genre I seek out much either, as a general rule. I was actually more interested in exploring Anon's emotional state and his response to trauma and--I don't know, degeneration? Is that the word to use here? Maybe deterioration would be a better one?

>>30018812
Hah! Glad you like it. I'll keep writing as long as I possible can, so there's more to come. Writing what I want to write is very entertaining.
>>30018834
Cronenberg is good in small doses. But once you see enough weird shit, it kind of stops being as shocking. You gotta do something real new and fancy.
Like, the Tar Man from Return of the Living dead. He was gross, but the way he moved and acted was the real shocking and disturbing bit about him. Hellraiser is neat because of the cenobites' story, and that whole "dimension of pain" thing they got goin' on.

You did good in making it mostly about Anon and his mental well-being though. I'd call it deterioration. Either one gets the message across, though.

>>30019045
Good to see another fan of Return Of The Living Dead. I hold that it's the best zombie movie in existence. And yeah, the tank zombie- He takes it to the next level, doesn't he? "MORE brains!"

>>30019073
Right? He just seemed so excited that they all showed up. The fact that he wasn't an idiot makes it even better. "Oh, she's hiding in a locked closet? I got this winch here, let's rip the fucking door off. Then the conversation with the torso that explains why they want to eat brains? That's some next-level shit right there. Beautifully made zombies.

>>30019045
>>30019073

I'd love to see some good pony zombie horror :) Maybe with an actual Return of the Living Dead-style ending where Celestia blows a town off the face of Equestria with a focused solar flare or something...?

I loves me some zombies.

>>30019085

I think I remember that somewhere on Youtube there used to be a bad-quality cut of Return of the Living Dead, with the music some of the sound effects missing. The best part of it was the scene where Frank incinerates himself--no music, no sound effects. Just him struggling to get into the incinerator, and then it closing and the camera pulling back on it with no sound or music. Just silence and the sound of fire. As rough as it was, it made that one scene a beautiful work of art.

>>30019096
Not exactly my forte since it's more body-horror than anything, but if no one else does it by the time my current story is done, I'll have a go.

>>30019169

Sweet :)

File: Trixie desert.png (667KB, 1004x1024px) Image search: [Google]

667KB, 1004x1024px

>>30014657
Trixie lashed the barrels to her wagon so any errants gusts of wind wouldn’t blow them away before they were full enough, and stepped back inside. She was soaked, and she’d have to air the wagon out in the morning so mildew wouldn’t set in, but she had more water, a shower, and the location of a town for the morning. Hopefully not an abandoned one. She toweled off and laid back down, trying to get comfortable and ignore the thunder.
She didn’t have long to wait, as desert storms can come and go at a whim, and soon there was nothing but the pattering of rain and the occasional quiet rumble instead of the vibrating bass kaboom of the thunder. Trixie covered herself up, and slept for a few more hours. She needed to be up with the sun in order to keep the watering from evaporating.
Come morning, Trixie felt the rays of the sun drape over her muzzle and pulled herself out of bed. It was already getting quite warm, and she wanted to make it to that town before noon. If they had a tavern or something, that would be absolutely perfect. She could maybe have a proper bath and get a nice cider. Take a bit of a rest before continuing the trek to Applewood. Big cities were always hit or miss for bits, and she usually had to perform outside of town. Thankfully there were plenty of farming villages nearby, so she could make a nice circuit around the place before trying to get into a venue in Applewood proper. She only performed at professional establishments rarely, since she didn’t want to get tied down to a single place. The roving life had perks that couldn’t be found in a city or village, and she intended to enjoy them. Like that desert storm last night.

>>30019368
Trixie sealed the barrels and pulled them back inside the wagon. Looked like she’d gained several inches of water, which was excellent. If the village was abandoned, she didn’t have to worry. She could stop, look around, then continue on her way. No big deal. Once everything was securely fastened inside the wagon, Trixie hitched herself up, put on her traveling hat and cloak for when she arrived at the village, and headed for it.
The village she had seen last night looked a lot bigger than it had seemed during the brief lightning flashes. There were multi-level homes made of what looked like adobe, and they were all clustered pretty tightly together. Her memory was excellent, because she was The Great and Powerful Trixie, but this didn’t look like the town she had passed through the last time. It’s true that the village might have been abandoned, destroyed, and then a new one built in its place, but the last one had wooden buildings, and there was a street passing through the middle of town, with the well in the center. These were set up in a circle. She couldn’t see the opposite side, but there was no opening for a passing wagon, stagecoach, or even any ponies to enter the town through. It seemed like it was trying to keep ponies out.
Trixie was never one for giving up, however, and before passing on to Applewood, she intended to investigate the town. Insular towns were usually pretty rich with special resources they tended to hoard. Resources she could sell as oddities and curios elsewhere. One time, she found a small town that excelled at scrimshaw. She accepted them as currency for her entertainment, took them to a faraway city inland and sold them for exorbitant prices to rich ponies. They loved hoofmade things.

>>30019373
Trixie pulled her wagon around the edge of the town. It wasn’t very big, but there was still a lot of ground to cover. It took her a while, but she circled the town until she found a small pony-sized entrance. It was literally pony-sized. A larger pony would have to squeeze to fit inside, and Bulk Biceps definitely wouldn’t fit. Mind you, he could just fly in, being a Pegasus, but that was beside the point. Trixie decided she should try to introduce herself before entering without being invited.
“Good day to you, mares and gentlecolts! I, The Great and Powerful Trrrrrixie, have come to astound and amaze you! To show you spells that beggar belief and bespell! To impress upon you the impossible, and to muster momentous magicks! Come and see, The Grrrrrreat, and Powerful, Trixie!” Trixie shouted at the mudbrick walls.
Trixie posed at the end of her spiel announcing herself, and waited, cape pulled across her torso, waiting for somepony to appear on top of the walls. Nopony appeared, and there wasn’t even as much as the sound of hoofsteps. This didn’t bode well for her shower and cider. Trixie slowly dropped back down to all four hooves and locked her wagon wheels. She trotted over to the small entrance and looked inside.
There wasn’t much in the tunnel, but it was rather long, and she saw a well in the middle of the town, so that was good. Nopony was guarding it, so she shrugged and walked inside. Her hat bent down from the roof above her head, but there was nothing else wrong with it, no matter how odd this whole scene was. She entered the ringed village proper, and looked around, seeing nothing and nopony. The doors into each house were covered with curtains or reed doors on multiple levels, some homes having been built on top of others. The well in the center had a bucket sitting on the ledge, and oddly enough, was clean.