Advertisement
ViralType

[AiE] Through a Filter Brightly Ch. 1 (cancelled)

Sep 6th, 2013
116
0
Never
Not a member of Pastebin yet? Sign Up, it unlocks many cool features!
text 16.62 KB | None | 0 0
  1. >you wake up wheezing, just barely sustaining yourself with the miniscule ammount of oxygen you're inhaling
  2. >and you're in a forest-WHAT THE FUCK
  3. >how in the name of Christ did you end up in a forest?
  4. >no, seriously, you can't remember anything
  5. >moment one: you're in your home chillin' like a villain
  6. >moment two: you're in a forest, and not the one near your house
  7. >this one looks darker, foreboding
  8. >you remember the creepypastas you've read in between updates to your favourite AiE stories
  9. >this is when the protagonist is lost and wanders around, then some suspicious but not altogether worrysome shit happens, then it escalates, then he dies
  10. >of course, that's the abridged version, but it ain't untrue
  11. >you cough to try and clear your airway, who knows how much you'll have to run soon, if this indeed is a horror situation
  12. >you get up and walk at a brisk pace in a random direction
  13. >now you notice that the trees are all gnarled and, for a lack of a better descriptor, malicious looking
  14. >the lack of leaves does not improve their image, but you know they're still alive
  15. >so far so good, there is no ominous fog rolling in, the trees are pointy and all somehow turned in just your direct-fuckfuckfuckfuckfukc
  16. >DON'T PANIC
  17. >just
  18. >keep
  19. >moving
  20. >OK, so you're being watched by the very forest you're in, that's bad
  21. >Currently there is no sign of anything else trying to harm or follow you, that's good
  22. >you've yet to see a slender, well-dressed figure with a blank face anywhere near you, that's excellent
  23. >you don't hear any noi—
  24. >you don't hear anything besides yourself
  25. >literally
  26. >there is no wind, there are no birds, there is not a branch moving, not a dead leaf on the ground stirring, no gnats flying around, no rabbits, no foxes, no wolves in the distance howling (OK, that's good, actually),
  27. >you can't even hear the trees turn towards you as you move around
  28. >THIS IS BAD, THIS IS REALLY BAD, THIS IS FUCKED
  29. >What unholy place does not have a single scrap of life in it?
  30.  
  31. >You don't move
  32. >It's dangerous, you think, but moving could be even more dangerous
  33. >all that noise could maybe attract something
  34. >something beyond Earth, something powerful, something skulking, it would be a beast, it could also be a humanoid, but you know that it would be violent
  35. >your mind brings back images of Smile Dog and Jeff The Killer
  36. >NOT HELPING
  37. OK, shut up, think this through, make a list of things you know
  38. >1) You are sure that the trees are following your with their unholy gaze
  39. >2) There is no noise apart from those you make yourself
  40. >That's all you know
  41. OK, now look around
  42. >Slowly, with a certainty you'll spot It behind you, you move your gaze 90* to your right
  43. >Nothing
  44. >180* to the opposite side
  45. >tentacle hand appendage moving inexorably for your mortal soul to drag to the depths of the evil pit in the center of the beating heart of hate
  46. >You nearly piss yourself, but no
  47. >Thank god it was just a branch and you're already over-stressed mind just saw what it wanted to see
  48. >you almost cry with joy at this turn of events
  49.  
  50. >Now for the big one
  51. >you inch your war around 90*, even though the last one was a false alarm your primal senses are screaming that slavering, desperate evil lurks just behind you, passionless, yet earnest about its mission of killing you in the most painful way possible
  52. >It stands
  53. >It
  54. >It
  55. >IT
  56. >RUN
  57. >RUN
  58. >You dash, you jump, branches everywhere, grasping, tugging, burrying themselves in your soft skin, the forest is killing you, in wants you dead, it binds you, you run, you bleed, you leave a trail for It to follow, the trees are pure nightmare, their trunks growing faces of otherworldly hate as they all turn to you
  59. >NOW they make sound, the splintering, cracking, SCREECHING of the wood, all wanting you to stay, stay and bleed, neverending torment as they pierce your stomach, wrench out your organs, stab your eyes
  60. >horrible, unspeakable, unholy, hateful, evil, evil, EVIL, PURE FUCKING EVIL
  61. >you dare a glance back
  62. >It can't be seen, It's gone, you lost it!
  63. >Where is It?!
  64. >It's everywhere, It sees you, but you can't see It, the trees
  65. >the trees are still scratching, still grasping
  66. >you're bleeding from numerous open, some gaping, wounds
  67. >Yes!
  68. >Yes! Run! Run! Bleed out! Lose consciousness! It can't kill you if you die, It is going to lose its prey, Yes, the trees are doing you a favour
  69. >you laugh maniacally at their twisted, bursting faces
  70. >the ignorant wood is doing you a favour
  71. >RUN!
  72.  
  73. >They cut deep, they cut true, not a single one missed
  74. >your forehead was sliced open and you couldn't see a damn thing, but that didn't matter
  75. >It wasn't going to win, not gonna lose either, but you'd settle for not dying by It's terrible skeletal, thin, pale fingers
  76. >RUNRUNRUNRUN, CUT, BLEED, DIE, NOW! DIE! NOW! DIE! DIE! DIEDIEDIE!
  77.  
  78. >So much blood
  79.  
  80. >You're lying face down on the carpet of dead leaves
  81. >you hear the footsteps of It coming toward you, somewhere on the edge of your already fading consciousness
  82. Fuck . . . you . . .
  83.  
  84. >the crackle of fire wakes you
  85. >something is in the air
  86. >it smells like vegetables, but you don't know what exactly
  87. >and it's warm
  88. >you hurt
  89. >it's not the tortures of Dante's Inferno, thank merciful God, but it hurts
  90. >that's a good sign
  91. >You try to move
  92. >Your hands and feet are bound to four distant, sturdy points
  93. >that's a bad sign
  94. >Unwilling to open your eyes still you strain against your bonds
  95. >it does nothing useful, it only forces the straps to dig deep into your skin
  96. >OK, so this isn't Hell, thank God, but it could be just as bad
  97. >a sick mountain dweller, someone driven insane by isolation could have trapped you
  98. >intent?
  99. >torture, cannibalism, rape, all of the above
  100. >You think of all the possibilities and you laugh slightly, thinking to yourself:
  101. Imagine the ego on me. Thinking the avatar of evil itself has come to kill me, only for it to actually just be Lester fucking Ballard
  102. >the thought fills you with the slightest bit of mirth and you find the strength to open your eyes
  103. >You're in a . . . Cottage? Made for and by a dwarf, it looks like
  104. >You swear you'd have to bend your neck a full 90* to stand fully erect in that little shelter
  105. >The walls are a green-yellow-ish colour, with various bottles, canes, sticks, masks strewn about the place
  106. >the masks look like something out of Africa
  107. >if you were an anthropologist you could deduce which tribe they belonged to . . . maybe
  108. >You look at the bonds holding you
  109. >they are strips of leather tied around bed posts holding your arms and legs aloft so there's little chance of you escaping
  110. Shit.
  111. >then you look at your arms
  112. >the wounds are still opened, but they aren't bleeding
  113. >in fact all of the blood from your body has been completely cleaned off
  114. >and your wounds have been packed with a jelly-like substance, at least that's what it looks like
  115. >the wounds themselves just hurt because they're wounds like any other you had, but the substance does not add to the pain, the way the usual alien matter would if you rubbed it into your soft open flesh
  116. >and it looks sort of dried
  117. >well, at least you're safe from infection, you hope
  118.  
  119. >the bed beneath you is relatively soft
  120. >not as soft as you'd like it, but if push came to shove you could easily sleep on it
  121. >and it looked like you had no choice in the matter
  122. >too bad you are too filled with adrenaline now to sleep
  123.  
  124. >you examine the leather straps holding you
  125. >sturdy, not new, but definitely used often
  126. >you can't bite through them, too far away
  127. >you can't wiggle them off the posts, they are taught so that minimal movement is accessible to you
  128. >summoning the strength of Samson you struggle, thrash and tug against your bonds and scream a righteous warcry
  129. >too bad it doesn't work
  130. >spending all that time in front of the PC certainly did nothing for your muscles
  131. Step one if I survive,
  132. >you think to yourself
  133. Find a gym and apply as a member. Step two: fuck if I know, let's concentrate on fulfilling the criterion for step one first.
  134. >Now there's the snag
  135. >how do you get out of your current situation? You're not strong, you're not MacGyver, you can't reach shit
  136. >but you can still speak
  137. OP is a faggot
  138. >verbal communicatory abilities are a go
  139. Hey, crazy mountain-man, you're prey is awake! Might wanna get in here!
  140. >the broth you smelled earlier is bubbling
  141. >that's the only sound that you can hear
  142. Shit.
  143. >Wait a sec
  144. Broth? Bubbling?
  145. >You look in front of yourself and finally notice, consciously anyways, the cauldron
  146. >Cauldron, shack, scary-ass forest, African-ish masks, loadsa bottles all around
  147. >your heart jumps into your throat and you stifle a squee
  148.  
  149. >after your complete neckbeard moment passed (fantasies about fucking as many ponies as possible included, of course) your brain finally kicks in and you craft as cunning a plan as possible:
  150. In Equestria, somehow teleported from out of own universe, still have full knowledge of everything MLP-related, use this to advantage, don't reveal to ponies, shit's gonna be so cash
  151. ''Is that the best plan you got?''
  152. --I'll improvise on the way, this world ain't too tough to survive in.--
  153. ''On the TV-screen. Who knows what other bullshit there exists that they don't show.''
  154. --Shit, good point. OK, after we're set free we go to Ponyville, find a job, save money.—
  155. ''What then?''
  156. --I don't know, let's see how the ponies react to us and then we'll either move out to some big city or just lead an easy life in Ponyville. Or live like a hermit if they consider us a freak of nature. Depends.—
  157. ''OK, now that's what I like to see. Alright, now let's call to Zecora. Uh, without mentioning her name.''
  158. --Yeah, yeah, I'm not an idiot.—
  159. ''Says the guy who's first idea was 'oy, let's go fuck a few ponies, Yellow Quiet best pone'''
  160. --Oh shut up, you were thinking it as well.—
  161. >You stop arguing with yourself
  162. >these things tend to go out of hand very quickly, you being a smartass and all
  163.  
  164. >OK, so you've been calling for Zecora for about... 15 minutes, maybe, and still nothing
  165. >she must be out gathering herbs or something
  166. >Or maybe she's in Ponyville getting Twilight and Fluttershy so they can examine you
  167. >That makes sense, actually
  168. >You guess it would be best to wait
  169.  
  170. >And dear sweet Jesus, you wait
  171. >it must have been a fucking hour and they're still not there
  172. >So this is why the producers employ timeskips
  173. >the audience would claw their eyes out from the boredom
  174. >you would too if your hands weren't restrained
  175.  
  176. >74, Zecora has 74 bottles of assorted somethings on her walls and floor
  177. >well that was fun
  178. >you wish the hut... Shack... Who cares was built out of bricks so you had even more things to count
  179. --Why don't we do a bit of mathematics?—
  180. ''That's fucking boring.''
  181. --No, let's make it interesting.—
  182. ''OK, how?''
  183. --Let's do a calculation of how many teats there are in Equestria, based on how many ponies we can name.—
  184. '' . . . Dude, you're one sick fucker, you know that?''
  185. --You got any better ideas?—
  186. ''Not right now, no.''
  187. --Well, let's get to namin'.—
  188. >Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie, Dash, Mrs. Cake, Mayor Mare, Bonbon, Lyra, Cherrilee, Grannie Sm-
  189. ''FUCK YOU, I'M NOT THINKING THAT!''
  190. >Cherrilee, Trixie, Celestia, Luna, Fleur de L-
  191. >You hear a bunch of neighing-sounds from a distance
  192. >no, they're not really neighs, but they certainly sound similar
  193. >they are getting closer to the abode
  194. ''This is odd. This is Equestria, why aren't they speaking English?''
  195. --Your guess is as good as mine. Let's see how the whole thing develops.—
  196.  
  197. --Call me Miss Cleo, mah nigga, 'cause I is psychic.—
  198. ''You do realise that if you used that accent in south central LA you'd be dead right now?''
  199. --Nigga, hush. I is 'bouts tah meet Puhple Smart, Yella Quiet an' Nigga Pony.—
  200. ''Well let's not talk to them in Ebonics, at least.''
  201. --You ain't no fun, you lame ass cracka.—
  202. ''You're a lame-ass cracka, yourself!''
  203. --Mm-mmm, now I know you din jus' call me a---
  204. ''Shut up and talk to them!''
  205. >you decide it's best to be chill, after all they don't want to think of you as a violent ape (despite that being humanity's profession)
  206. >you wait until they're all within your line of sight and say
  207. Yo, what's up?
  208.  
  209. >they speak amongst themselves in a language you can't understand
  210. >again, with those neigh-ish sounds
  211. >it sounded more like they were manipulating the neighs, for a lack of a better word
  212. >different pitch, different length of the sound, pauses in between the sounds, different body language to each sound, different facial expression
  213. >each pony tries to speak to you, but the results are less than spectacular
  214. >you'd have a better chance of swinging a dick in a maternity ward without angering anyone than understanding what in the hell they're saying
  215. >you try to speak to them in all the languages you know (all one of them), but to no avail
  216. >you'd gesture if you weren't indisposed
  217. >although an idea does come to you
  218. >you catch their attention with a very British
  219. Oy!
  220. >and with your right hand you attempt to draw a rectangular shape in the air
  221. >you then imitate a writing motion with your hands
  222. >it's a long-shot but it's better than the futile efforts at communication so far
  223. >you repeat the motion a couple of times in response to their inquisitive expressions
  224. >Twilight opens a saddlebag and retrieves a pencil and a notepad
  225. >you point directly at them enthusiastically
  226. Yeah, yeah! Those! Bring 'em here.
  227. >epiphany dawns upon Twilight, figuring that you were talking about those two items
  228. --She may be purple...—
  229. ''Lavender, to be specific.''
  230. --But she ain't super-smart.—
  231. >she hovers the two items over to your right hand
  232. >you grab the pencil and start...
  233. >what do you write?
  234.  
  235. >obviously since they don't speak English why would they read or write in it? Shit, why would they even have the Latin alphabet?
  236. --So what do we write?—
  237. ''Who says we have to WRITE anything?''
  238. --Aaaah, I see what you mean. Imma draw a penis!—
  239. ''You twat!''
  240. --Calm down, Queen Victoria, I was just kiddin'. Imma draw the swastika instead!—
  241. ''Now I know you're fucking with me.''
  242. >You draw the piece symbol and, more as an afterthought, a depiction of a human holding both hands open and up at head height
  243. >you hope they'll be able to understand it means 'I come in peace, worry not, your plots are relatively safe from ravaging'
  244. >they all examine it for a while and talk to one another
  245. >after a short while Twilight approaches you and Holy Christ is she a sight
  246. >not in a good sense, unless you've got a fetish for detail
  247. >up close you can see the hairs on her face, the curvature and folds of her nostrils and mouth, the whiskers on her muzzle
  248. >you glance at the other two and, while further away, you can still make out something similar
  249. >how you missed such details is –Zecora takes Fluttershy off to another part of the shack, their backs turned to you- Oh right, the plot, I nearly forgot about it
  250. --Hold on a sec . . . Even their plots—--
  251. ''Now's not the time, we'll make a note of it later.''
  252. >Twilight levitates the pencil from out of your hand, bares her teeth (you thank god for the small mercy of her doing it the same way humans do) and points to them with the pencil, the points to you with it
  253. --OK, so she has teeth. Hey, smart me, what do you think she wants?—
  254. ''See if we're keen on oral hygiene?''
  255. >she repeats the actions, only this time lightly pulls your upper lip apart from the lower
  256. ''She wants to—''
  257. --Yeah, I got it—
  258.  
  259. >you show her your pearly yellows
  260. >she examines them closely
  261. --Oh god . . . The face.—
  262. ''If we're gonna vomit at least do it when she moves away.''
  263. >She writes something down on the pad
  264. >she then rolls up your sleeves as far as they'll go and makes note of your arms
  265. >she pokes your right bicep with the pencil
  266. >you instinctively flex it
  267. >it truly is a depiction of epic might, if epic might were a dying tree-branch wrapped in a thin layer of fat
  268. >she pokes it again, you flex again
  269. >this goes on for a bit until you figure out she wants you to keep it flexed, so you do it
  270. >makes notes
  271. >now she's examining your hand
  272. >you let it relax as she moves the fingers around with her magic and examined them closely
  273. >maybe she fears hidden weapons or something
  274. >she's very gentle and doesn't push your appendages beyond their obvious limits
  275. >that reminds you, you hadn't had a good massage in ages
  276. >one more reason to get out of the shack and visit those two ponies at the spa, damned if you can remember their names
  277. >not that it matters since you can't even pronounce them properly
  278. >Twilight is done with your hand
  279. >she flips over a new sheet of paper and scribbles something on it
  280. >she shows you very rough, very beginner depictions of your hand
  281. >the first shows your hand free from the straps
  282. >the second is of your hand drawn with claws in a threatening pose crossed out
Advertisement
Add Comment
Please, Sign In to add comment
Advertisement