When They Come: Pt. 1

When They Come
By Anonpencil

>The first thing that you’re aware of when you wake up is that your head hurts. Oh god, does it fucking hurt. You start to open your eyes but the world swims and the pain worsens, so you shut them again. You take a few slow steady breaths till you feel your head go still inside, then try again.
>A starry sky greets you as everything focuses. It’s still dark out, but there’s a slight glow to your right, hinting at the possibility of a dawn soon to come. The starlight is quickly fading and a few stray clouds sail slowly and silently above you. The grass beneath your head feels damp from morning dew, and you reach up to touch your head where it hurt.
>The next thing you are aware of is the blood.
>You stare at your hand, bewildered at the sight of it. The stain is near brown, old. You’ve been bleeding for some time now. But what has happened to you? You’re not sure.
>You sit up slowly, testing your limits to see what hurts you and makes you dizzy. You spin a little, but things stay steady enough for you to notice the lights of Ponyville in a nearby valley.
>It’s not too bad, you tell yourself. Maybe it’s just a scratch or…
>You freeze and just stare at what is lying at your feet.
>The pony is young, just a year or two past getting her cutie mark, but not someone you recognize from town. Her mane is a muted orange, her body a light pink. She is lying just past your feet, motionless, and the cut on her head makes you think that you have no right to complain about your own injuries.
Blood has pooled below her face which rests slack-jawed on the grass. Flecks of dried brown dot her main and forehead, all encircling a several inch long gash that looks like it goes in deep. Possibly to the bone.
>Wordlessly you scramble up to your knees and press your fingers below her jaw. Is this how you take a pony’s pulse? Damn it, you haven’t been here long enough to know this kind of shit yet. To your relief, you feel a murmur there, though it’s faint and irregular.
>You shake her shoulder but there’s no response.
>“Miss?” you call. Then a little louder. “Miss are you alright?”
>Stupid question, she’s obviously not. You’re beginning to panic a little and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.
>Your shirt is already torn and ragged, but you tear off a piece and press it over the gaping angry wound above her left eye. Warmth moves across your hand as the blood seeps into the cloth. She’s still bleeding, so that means her heart is still pumping. Which is good, right?
The hospital in ponyville might be open, but you're not entirely sure where that is from her. You haven’t seen signs of an ER or anything like that in your short stay either. But she needs help, more than you can give. You wrack your brain, putting firm pressure down on the wound.
>You’re not willing to brave a trek through the Everfree forest while it’s still this dark out, though Zecora would probably help. Rarity is closest, but it’s unlikely that she’ll wake up this early. Her and her beauty sleep. Twilight, however, loves to get up early and can do magic. She’s your best bet.
>You slip your arms around the pony’s body, one arm around her chest, the other behind her back legs, and hoist her upward. She’s surprisingly light for a pony, and you’ve never held one like this before. There’s a smell about her too, something almost...flowery.
>No time to think about it now though.
>You start walking, making sure your head can take it. But the adrenalin is surging in full force now and the pain is fading fast. It’s only a few steps before you begin to run.
>The pony’s head bounces against your chest, and you pray you’re not making her injuries any worse. You hold your precious cargo closer, tighter.
>Your foot catches a branch. You stumble, but you don’t fall.
>The hills are flying past as you near ponyville. You barely hear your own footfalls over the heaving of your breath, the blood rushing in your ears. But you don’t care right now. Have to get to Twilight’s.
Has it been seconds? Minutes? How long have you been running?
>It's impossible to tell.
>The branches of her library loom up ahead of you, and you feel a rush of relief as well as a rolling wave of nausea come over you. Just a little further, you urge your feet. Just a few more steps now.
>Your hands are full of pony so you kick hard at the door. When no one answers you kick again. You can’t tell if the pony in your arms is still breathing or not, but you have to get her inside.
>“Twilight!” you yell, your lungs already burning with the run. “Twilight! Open up, please!”
>The door creaks open and a very sleepy looking Twilight reguards you. She looks pissed off, but you don’t care right now.
>“Anon, what-"
>And then she sees the pony in your arms. She gasps and looks from her to you with horror and shock.
>“Oh Celestia,” she breathes. “What happened? Who’s-”
>Her words suddenly sound far away.
>“Twilight, she needs…”
>The corners of your eyes are going dark, and your lips feel tingly. You hug the pony tightly to your body, afraid you’ll drop her.
>Everything is getting blurry.
>You make out Twilight calling out to you, and then everything abruptly shifts to the side and you no longer feel your feet under you.
>Everything is black.
>You’re unconscious before you hit the ground.

---

>You wake up, you’re not sure how much later, to Spike putting a cold cloth over the back of your neck. The pain in your head has subsided, and you reach up to find some sort of bandage placed there.
>“Mhn,” you mutter, trying to sit up.
>“Oh, you’re awake! That’s good,” Spike sighs. He looks like he’s been sick with worry.
>You manage to right yourself, but spike holds up his tiny purple claws, signaling you to stay put.
>“No way, Anon,” he says. “Twilight said to watch you till you woke up, then go get her. And that you weren’t supposed to move.”
>You know better than to upset Twilight’s grand order of things. She’s a perfectionist when it comes to shit like this. The two of you don’t always get along because of it, but you at least know her methods are effective.
>“Fine, go get her will you?”
>But Spike’s already running down stairs to find her.
>You lower yourself back down and realize that you’re lying in Twilight’s bed. Everything smells clean here, sterile. Very unlike the loft at the Cakes’ where you’ve been staying for the last few months. There the rooms are all filled with the inviting scents of cakes and other sweets cooking.
>This is nice too, you suppose. It’s very comfortable. You wonder if she’ll get upset if you peel off the covers though, they’re a bit warm for you.
>You hear the clop of hooves as she comes up the stairs and decide against it.
>Twilight comes into view at the top of the stairs. She looks very concerned and speaks softly to you.
>“Hey, how are you feeling?”
>“Like someone took a baseball bat to my head,” you admit. “But…better than I did earlier, Thanks.”
>“Glad to help, this magic has to be good for something.”
>She manages a wry smile.
>“Twilight,” you say sitting up a little. “The filly, how’s she-"
>The smile leaves her face as quickly as it arrived and she looks away from you.
>“You know,” she says solemnly. “You weren’t in this bed at first. I had you propped in an armchair down stairs while I worked on her.”
>Twilight glances to a corner of the bedroom, her stare miles and miles away. You follow her gaze and spot a dark blanket with stars on it. It’s folded neatly, like someone was tucking in a baby, around a a very still shape. With horror, you realize it’s the body of the pony you’d tried so hard to save.
>“When?” you manage to ask.
>“About half an hour ago,” Twilight whispers. “I tried everything I could, but even magic can’t...there’s only so much...”
>She falls silent.
>Your mouth is dry, and you feel like someone has punched you in the gut. All that effort. All that running and desperation. For nothing. You held her in your arms in her final moments, and you didn’t even know it. Could you have said goodbye to her? Is there something, anything else you could have done?
>“I...” the words come out choked. “I found her like that when I woke up. We were out by the hills and she was just there. I tried to do what I thought was best for her.”
>“You did everything you could, Anon.”
>“Was there anything?”
>“No, she’d lost so much blood.” Twilight places a hoof on your leg and looks into your face. “You couldn’t have saved her Anon. But you tried. Please, don’t beat yourself up about it.”
>You swallow hard and breathing becomes a little less painful.
>“But what did this?” you ask.
>“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
>You shake your head. With all the commotion you haven’t even tried to collect your thoughts about the previous night’s events.
>“I’m not sure,” you say slowly. Images begin to float back to you, voices.
>It’s becoming clearer now.
>“I went up there with a few of the young fillies,” you say slowly. “They were graduating school, at least part of it. Too young to be going to college or whatever it is you have here. They  were talking about where they were going to go next though.” You can’t help but smile remembering it. “They wanted me to come up to the hills with them because they knew I could get them hard cider from the Pies.”
>“Oh Anon!”
>Twilight obviously does not approve. Too much to worry about right now to lie and keep from offending her.
>“Yeah I know. They wanted to have fun, and I’d been in their shoes a few times before. So I helped them out. We were drinking, we were singing. I got pretty smashed.”
>“Anon, you didn’t...they’re so young, you didn’t...”
>“Oh, Jesus Twilight no way! You know I wouldn’t, not with a pony! That would be...well it just wouldn’t work for me, ok?”
>You neglect to tell her that it is something you’ve considered now that you’re stuck here in Equestria, but never with a filly that young. Definitely not the time now.
>“Anyway, you were drinking and then?”
>“We were singing together, the four of us. I tripped and fell on my face, we were all laughing. Then we just lay there looking up at the stars. Then I remember...”
>The memory hits you suddenly, when you’re not ready for it. The darkness, the panic, the confusion. It floods back through your sesnes like you’re feeling it all over again.
>Twilight must notice a change in your face, because she suddenly looks worried.
>“Anon?”
>“It was...” you say breathlessly. You turn to her, staring into her large questioning eyes. “Twilight, I think someone or something came out of the woods. They had some sort of weapon, something metal. They started chasing us. The two ponies got away but that one stumbled. We were all just so drunk, I tried to go back and help her but then...”
>You shake your head hard and the images fade.
>“It must have hit me because I blacked out after that.”
>“Oh Celestia, that’s terrible!” Twilight cries. “We have to tell the mayor at once! I’m sure the Cakes are worried about you, so why don’t you get back to them. We’ll figure out a way to deal with this, so make sure you lie down when you get back and just rest. Let your head heal.”
>She’s already grabbed a pack from a nearby shelf and is filling it with books. You see a few of the titles as then fly, glowing sparkling purple, off the shelves. Magical Creatures, Ponyville History, something about ancient madness.
>“It was Marigold, by the way.”
>“What?”
>“The pony,” you nod towards the dead body. “Her name was Marigold. She was here visiting a friend, an out of towner. Someone should try to find out who her parents are and get in touch with them.”
>Twilight nods slowly.
>“Of course. Right.”
>“I’ll get back to the Cakes.”
>“Ok. I'll come check on you in a bit. The mayor might have questions for you.”
>You stand slowly and walk down stairs. Spike gives you an uncomfortable wave as you reach the doorway. >His face looks so empty of the silly carefree nature that’s always there.
>“Feel better, ok?” he says.
>You wonder if he’s ever dealt with death before. He’s so young, maybe this is the first time he’s ever seen someone die. You nod your farewell to him and shut the door behind you.
>As you walk back, your mind is swirling with questions you’re not sure you want an answer to. Who did this? Why? What happened to the other fillies? You remember too well running from your attacker, just as you told Twilight.
>What you didn’t tell her though, what has you so twisted up inside, is that you remember the attacker’s silhouette as you looked up at it from the grass. It walked on two legs, just like you. For a moment, you can’t be sure, you think you may have even seen a face. A human face.
>And it was smiling.

---
End pt. 1