Someone Came With Her, Part 5

Gravity shifts, dragging you towards the sphere.  It's sucking everything in!  You desperately try to dig your fingers into the dry soil as your legs start getting pulled into the air.

The fence groans against its posts before its links snap explosively, and the black hole consumes it in an instant.

“I will see you soon,” says Trask, strolling gracefully into the rift.

Helplessly you look over at Aaron and his friend, who are both fighting a losing battle in their struggle to keep their grip on the ground.  Suddenly Aaron's buddy is airborne, his slight form shooting through the air like a dart.  His scream is abruptly cut off as he vanishes into the darkness.

“Daniel!” Aaron howls.  The stricken look on his face is heart-wrenching, so shockingly...human.

Your grip is giving out.  The muscles in your hands burn with pain, begging for rest.  You manage to last only a few more seconds before you're suddenly rocketing backwards, pulled free by the black hole's irresistible force.

You feel much more resigned than frightened now that your fate is out of your hands—literally in this case.  Whatever happens, you just hope it will be over soon.

The darkness swallows you.  There is an overwhelming assault on your senses as your brain scrambles to understand your surroundings.  Flashing lights and alien sounds, hallucinatory smells and phantom sensations.  You spend an unknowable amount of time in this blind and maddening state, and it is with great pleasure that you realize that all is finally still.

Your face feels blistered and hot.  Groaning, you slowly open your eyes.

The landscape you see is at once alien and familiar.  You're in a desert, the sun brutally beating down on a parched landscape populated only by tall brown cacti and dry shrubs.

What causes your jaw to drop is the fact that everything appears to be cel-shaded.  As your vision clears, you start to notice other oddities.  The exaggerated hills, the ludicrous rock formations, the spirals in the clouds...wait.

You know this style.  Holy shit, you're in Equestria.

You're pretty sure that if you shared the same cartoonish qualities as your surroundings, your jaw would have crashed through the ground and plunged into the center of the planet.

Your mind races.  How did you get here, again?  Something about a creepy sorcerer guy and a portal and--

Clearly that was utterly fucking crazy.  Your heart sinks a bit at the conclusion that this must be an elaborate dream, and you're still snoozing away at that one crappy motel.

“You're not in a dream, my friend.  I'm afraid this is all quite real.”

Shit, it's -him- again!  You whirl around to see Trask smiling wickedly at you, and your throat goes dry.

“Perhaps this would help convince you?” he asks.  Instantly you feel as though you've been stung square in the back by a hornet, and you let out a yelp of pain.

“I've been wondering,” says Trask, assaulting you with another jolt, “what do you little white knights -get- out of meddling with my plans, anyway?  You're not Equestrians.  You fellows don't owe them anything.”

He steps closer.  Another jolt.  But this time, you've gotten used to the attack.  A plan forms in your mind. It's an insane one, but it's a plan nonetheless.  You pretend to be crippled with pain, kneeling down and sobbing for mercy.  Once he gets close enough, you're going to kick his gaunt ass.  Ooh, unpleasant image.

There's still the matter of his telepathy, though.  What was that one trick you saw in a movie once?  Something about imagining a brick wall?

He's only one step away now.  You bunch up your muscles, ready to swing at him.

Then he laughs.  “I see.  You want to fight me, don't you?  I suppose I can't blame you.  Clearly, trying to run didn't work out so well the last time.”

You sigh and stand up.  There's only one other option...

“I give up.  I pledge my allegiance to you.  Do what you want with me, master.”

For once, it's his turn to be surprised.  You have to admit, it's pretty weird seeing him look astonished for once.

That's when you knee him in the balls.

He cries out in pain, collapsing to the ground.  You're not a sadist, but...damn.  Trask deserves it a hundred times over.  The sheer catharsis of the experience takes you to the top of Mount OhFuckYes.

“That was not very polite,” he scowls.  You respond by punching him in the face.  Sadly, it seems to hurt your fist much more than it hurts him.  You clutch your hand, moaning.

The bastard is starting to smile again.  “You can't do this very well, can you?  Not with those fluffy little hooves.”

Baffled, you stare at him for a moment.  Then you look at your hands.

They're unnaturally pale, as white as snow.  You look closer and see that they're covered with a layer of dense, fine white fur.