Anon's medical advice Part 5

>Your name is Anonymous and you are in a delirious sleep.
>It could have been caused by the absurd amount of penicillin you subjected yourself to;
>What with the allergic reaction and all. Standard fatigue, hives, inflammation and the like.
>Or perhaps it was simply the vast amount of stress you’ve undergone;
>A dozen sick, possibly sepsis filled ponies.
>Finally finding a cure;
>Being rejected due to debilitating circumstances.
>Trapped in a force field, called insane.
>Now tossing and turning, gripping the sheets in a fevered sweat;
>You dream..no…


>Nightmares: So vivid…
>Standing in the middle of Ponyville
>Diseased humans and ponies crawling toward you
>Open wounds infested with maggots
>Eyes hanging out, still connected by the retinal cords
>Boils, blisters, burns…
>Begging for bodily release
>Black and yellow ooze trailing behind each as they claw inch by inch toward you
>Even the ponies had long elongated nails, some sort of claw
>You try to run
>Stuck
>You look down, familiar purple force fields bind your legs
>A sharp pain rakes your back
>Then your belly
>They climb you, scale you like a tree
>Each foot they climb drags their infected nails into you
>Torrents of black blood flood out of you
>The infected open their impossibly large maws, needle like teeth lining it
>Three hundred needles criss cross the abyss these...creatures call a mouth
>A half rotted pegasus stares you down, bubbling pitch flowing out of its eyes and jaw
>And into yours, snuffing out your source for air
>Drowning in filth

>You gasp for breath
>Vision returns, you scan the area
>Gigantic mushrooms
>A forest of fungi, fertile fuschia spores fermenting in the fragrant air
>It’s hard to breathe
>You eyes water as you stumble, trying to find a way out
>You shield your eyes with a hand, trying to find something, anything in the distance
>...
>Was that...rushing water?
>You scan around, finally finding the source of the sound
>Onyx fluid, as viscous as syrup forces its way through the trees
>The towering mushrooms bend under the weight of the tsunami
>You flee
>No hope
>To no avail
>You are quickly overtaken
>You dig your nails into the soft fleshy trunk of the nearest mushroom-tree, clinging on for dear life
>Futility
>You are taken under, thrashed by an invisible riptide
>Drowning
>Hopeless

>Luna is taken aback, re-opening her eyes with shock written clear on her face
>”Spike, you were right to call us, we do not think Anonymous is pure anymore. He is clearly corrupted; his dreams, chaotic. We will need to take him back to the castle with us.”
>The young dragon’s eyes widen, looking up at the midnight princess, “S-so we were right? He’s...this isn’t Anon?”
>The princess of the moon gently comforts him, “No little one, we are sure he is still Anon, simply something has overtaken him. Some black power or magic is rooted there, changing him.”
>”Oh wow.” His eyes drop to the sleeping, twitching human, “So what should we do?”
>”We will take him to the dungeon and try to figure out the cause. We need to cure his ailment posthaste so he can inform us to what caused this.” Luna silently pops the force field effortlessly, hovering over your form.
>”Oh! Princess… Uhm Twilight mentioned something about….him spitting acid.” He pressed his index claws together, trying to think, “Uh, so I guess you should watch out for that.”
>A smile crosses her face, “Thank you Spike, we shall see to it that he is properly restrained.”
>With a glow of her horn, the alicorn and human disappear.
>”Huh...I wonder why Twilight hasn’t gotten back yet?”

>It’s really hard to stay calm
>The only light source is a lone torch on the adjacent wall, the flickering glow barely leaking in to your feet
>A solitary guard patrols past your cell every two minutes, only giving you the briefest of glances
>Your arms are bound behind your back, the tips of your fingertips barely brushing the opposite elbow
>You have an improvised metal contraption on your face that you imagine looks like something straight out of the Saw movies. It seems that its sole purpose is to keep your mouth shut.
>You hope
>You could probably get it off easily with your hands
>But...bound, of course.
>You also have a mild case of claustrophobia
>It is REALLY hard to not freak out
>Your body trembles, fingers and toes twitching, trying to reassure you that you could still move somewhat
>You’ve already caused a damp spot on the clammy stone floor due to your profuse sweating
>The guard approaches again
>Sixty eight...sixty nine...seventy...seventy one steps, he appears as a silhouette, the quadruped form turning and walking the way he came
>One...two...three…
>It’s something to keep you distracted
>You wonder if the guard counts the steps himself or if it’s just habit that he walks the same amount
>Fifty two…fifty three…
>How long are they going to keep you down here? Certainly the ponies had some sort of court system.
>They believed in friendship and shit, you would get your chance, yes?
>Seventy...seventy one...Stop. Turn. One...two…
>Maybe you could distract yourself by counting the discernable stones in the walls.
>Thirteen...fourteen…
>And what about the sick ponies? Would Twilight and Redheart ever help them?
>Seventy…
>...
>”You disgust me, you know that?”
>You raise your head, looking toward the shadowed figure.
>The scruff voice scoffs, hoofing a rock toward you
>It tumbles close to you, but it falls short of your knees
>”You changelings are all the same. You only care for yourself and takin’ what you want.”
>Changelings? How fast did rumors spread here? You’ve only been here what, two days?
>...or had it been two weeks?
>...hours?
> You had periods of consciousness, unconsciousness and both had their normal and their paranoid moments.
>”I can’t wait until they say what they’re going to do to you.”
>...Seventy one. Stop. Turn. One...Two…

>Twilight groaned loudly, burying her face into her hooves. “What are we going to do?” The purple pony collapsed, staring at the empty train station.
>”Well, what did you expect, it’s almost four in the morning!” Spike rubbed his eyes, giving out a yawn as if to drive home his point.
>”It’s the easiest way to get to Canterlot though, there’s no way we can get there before morning now.” Nurse Redheart scuffled her hooves on the ground. “But...maybe there’s some other way?”
>Twilight’s panicked eyes looked from the station toward the distant Canterlot. Of course the train wouldn’t be working. But the whole affair...and now Anon is in Canterlot and all the sick ponies are here...
>This was not what she wanted at all
>”I guess we’re going to be hoofing it guys.” Twilight looked toward the distant mountain, “I might be able to teleport us if we get close enough.”

>”We hope you understand the charges accused upon thee, Anonymous. By testimony of the young dragon Spike and our glimpse into your dreams, it is clear to us that thou art corrupted, as we once were, but with something much more sinister.” Luna’s presence dominates the pseudo-courtroom. “Something sinister that is attempting to propagate and spread through others.
>It was more like an interrogation room, what with the solitary chair, solitary light and one on one confrontation. Save for the lone guard, of course.
>”And whilst our sister is away, searching for the cause of thine corruption, we hath been graced with the authority of the kingdom.” She paces a few steps back and forth, her eyes locked on you at all times. “We will not allow such evil to run rampant in her absence.”
>You sit silently, waiting for her long winded speech to end. Your cheek is still throbbing and pained from where the guard had slapped when when you interrupted her before.
>If you can consider a hoof hitting your face a slap.
...are you done?
>The guard raises his hoof, you close your closest eye and brace yourself.
>Luna puts her hoof in front of him, stopping his advancement.
>”Speak Anonymous, but choose thine next words carefully. Thou hath only so many.”
>You take a deep breath, staring straight into her eyes.
I am not evil. Not corrupted. I am not a changeling. I am simply trying to save some ponies’ lives back in Ponyville. They are sick and I know how to cure then, I simply need an opportunity where I’m not accused for something malicious at every fucking turn.
>The room is silent for a moment, Luna inspects every inch and crevice of your face.
>”And what knowledge doth thine hath that would cure said illness?”
>Of course. Time to choose your words very, very carefully.
It is a medicine called penicillin. It will cure what they have in less than a week’s time, I promise.
>Perplexity. Contemplation. Confusion again.
>”If thou hath such a cure, why were accusations upon thee?”
>Here’s the crazy sounding part.
Because the medicine comes from...a mold.
>Shock hits them both like a truck. If trucks existed here.
Yes, it’s a mold. But it’s safe for consumption. In my world it was essentially the go-to for cures for the longest time.
>”A mold? Art thou certain? Is this a mystic mold from Everfree?”
>An opportunity. A big one.
>You could probably get out of here rather rapidly by lying about this. Magic is a prominent and powerful force after all. And Zecora and all her herbal shit came from Everfree. You think.
>You could get out of here, cure the ponies, prove just how medically wrong they all are, and hopefully teach them how to really care for the sick.
>On the other hand, getting caught in a lie would dick you over for sure. Probably to the highest degree.
>Then again, what happens when you tell her it came from the dump? Rotten food from the dump?
>This would conundrum would start all over again.
>Ugh.
>Perhaps you could lie right now just so you could prove yourself later.
>Besides, how would she even find out that you were lying?
...Of course it is, I thought you knew that?
>Your words are purposefully peppered with bitter and a touch of malice.
Didn’t you ponies have a problem understanding Zecora’s herbal remedies in the first place? Why are we having a relapse in judgement again?
>Your heart jumps, but you keep your expression stoic.
>Their faces change from their mix of accusation and confusion to one of embarrassment and timidness.
>”We...are sorry… We simply-”
>”Hold one moment Princess Luna, before we apologize, we have to figure out just how this human could spit acid. And his twisted dreams are still in question.”
>You roll your eyes.
Humans eat meat. Meat is tougher than grass. We need stronger stomach acid than you. I also have a medical problem, alright? Why would I go about telling everyone about my issues?
>”That is no-”
Yeah okay. How about this, we’ll feed you meat and see if you can digest it as easily as me, sound good?
>That shut him up.
And humans always have crazy, non-linear dreams, usually loosely associated to something that they’re recently heard or done, or any fears that they have.
>Your gaze goes back to Luna.
I don’t quite remember my dream, but I’m sure it’s associated to the situation at hand.
>You barely register her nod.
Now can you let me go? Please? I would like to save some lives here.
>”Release him at once!” Luna barks. The guard gets to work on your manacles, Luna looks at you apologetically. “Anonymous, please forgive us. We only wished to keep the kingdom safe. You understand, yes?”
>The chains clang to the ground and you rub your wrists.
No biggie, I just need to head back now, save some ponies, clear my name. You know the deal, I’m sure.
>”We do know that feeling well, Anonymous. Please at least come with us to fetch a small snack for your journey.”
>Your stomach growls and your belly burns, yeah that definitely sounds like a plan.
Sounds good, but let’s make it to-go. The sooner I get back, the better.

>”So Spike? What’s it say?”
>”Aww phooey.” The purple dragon throws the letter to the ground, resuming his pace toward Canterlot. “Princess Celestia went off to try and figure out about whatever is affecting Anon. She’s off to go talk to the Zebras and if she can't find anything there, she’s goinna try and see if the changelings are up to anything.”
>”That seems a bit extreme…” Redheart followed up the rear, wondering if the Princess possibly risking her life was necessary.
>It had taken them hours but Canterlot was slowly growing in size.
>”You think this is close enough?” Spike squinted, trying to estimate exactly how far their destination was.
>”We’ll get a bit closer and then I’ll see if I can teleport us the rest of the way. Every step we take makes it a little easier on me.”
>”Alright, alright…”

Thanks a bunch for the food, I needed this.
>You crunch into the apple, grabbing the small bag of donuts and bread.
>”Tis nothing, we assure thee.”
Awesome, now let’s head back to Ponyville, I’ve got some doctoring to do.
>The room is enveloped in a blinding light of magic. The brightness melts away and… you’re still in the same room.
>But there’s Spike, the Nurse, and a very fatigued Twilight now present.
>You blink in surprise, what the heck are they doing here?
>Right
What the hell are you guys doing here?
>”We….we’re...we…” Twilight manages to pant out. Guess that took it out of her.
>”We’re here to well...right the wrong that happened.” Redheart gives a subtle head nudge toward Spike. “The ponies aren’t getting any better and we figured we would at least ask you how you administer your penicillin. And how much.”
Well Luna was just about to send me back so...I can do it in person.
>”Waaait a second. How does she know you’re not evil or anything? We were just coming to ask about the rotten apples!”
>Fuckin’ Spike.
>”Apples Anonymous?”
>You clear your throat, your nerves were starting to act up again.
Yeah...the mold typically grows on rotten apples. Its just its natural state.
>”We were unaware that apples grew inside Everfree Forest.”
>Shit.
>”Everfree? He got them from Applejack’s dump…”His eyes light up, “AHA! I knew it!” Spike jabs an accusing finger at you, “You LIED to the Princess so you could go back to Ponyville and corrupt those poor innocent, sick ponies with those poisoned apples!”
Look, I can seriously explain this, just give me a chance.
>That glowing horn of Luna’s means you’ve probably run out of chances.
>Darkness seems to bleed into your vision, your senses turning off one by one.
>You feel detached from the world.
>Awake and yet unaware.

>Twilight slumps over the tower of books in front of her, eyelids drooping, threatening to close regardless of her whim. She could still spot the ethereal, dark flow of a mane over the barrier of books.
>”Princess Luna, we’ve spent four days going through almost every book on inter-species illness, corruption, disease, and cursed artifacts and we’re no closer than we were on day one.”
>The purple pupil pushed the pamphlet she had poured over aside, standing and peering throughout the royal library, trying to point out where Spike had gone off to
>”As much as it pains us to admit it, We believe thou art correct, Twilight.” The tome the alicorn was reading is slowly lowered, her horn dimming.
>”We fear there is only one true option left to find the source of this evil.”
>Twilight closed her eyes in defeat, sighing before reluctantly nodding. “I’ll go get Nurse Redheart.”

>You awaken to a rather familiar feeling: the feeling of bindings around your wrists.
>But something is a bit different this time. Your arms are bound not to each other, but to something above you.
>And your legs, they were held in place too, to something below you.
>What the fuck?
>Your eyes flutter open, greeted with a stark white ceiling and a blinding light.
>Ah, a bed.
>You were bound to the head and foot of a bed. That would explain your sprawled out form.
>You squint your eyes, trying to glimpse something, anything past this wretched light.
>Ponies. Three of them. In white coats.
>What the hell was going on?
>You struggle to remember something, anything.
>Sick ponies. Right. The whole penicillin debacle. Okay.
>Oh right, Canterlot. And then...nothing.
>But why were you bound to a bed?
>You clear your throat, opening your mouth to inquire.
>One of the ponies, a stallion, turns at the sound and your words catch themselves in your throat.
>His cutie mark.
>The Rod of Asclepius.
>Oh fuck.
>You give your bindings a tug, the metal clanging on the frame of the bed.
>Sweat beads on your forehead, quickly becoming small waterfalls when they fall and stain the sheets with wetness.
H-hey, can’t we talk about this?
>Tremors start to wrack your body. You fight with every ounce of willpower not to freak out.
This is fucking ludicrous, you can’t just...just…
>You really had no idea what they were about to do.
>But you were in a hospital.
>Bound.
>And everyone thought there was something wrong with you.
>Your claustrophobia is in full force now, but you resort to just letting your digits twitch as opposed to a full on freak out.
>It’s not helping.
>You give a hard swallow, hearing them mess around with metal clinking with other metal.
>Small metal objects. Tools.
>You grit your teeth.
I'm not evil.  Not corrupted. Let me go, please... please just listen to reason!
>They don't even seem to hear you as they continue their tinkering.
>A nurse wheels over the cart containing their instruments of "healing" when the stallion, the head "doctor" you presume, leans over you, a sincere smile on his face.
>"Don't you worry, we're going to do everything in our power to get you better."
>Holy fuck it was even creeper that he was being sincere about it.
>”Now then, you miiiight want to bite down on this."
>He pops a wooden stick between your teeth, one that has clearly seen much use, while he brandishes a stained knife.
>You instinctively dig your molars into the semi-soft wood, nostrils flaring as your breath increases.
>The knife descends, your heart rate flares.
>Please God, please Celestia, someone, anyone save me.
>Your abdomen parts easily beneath the edge.
>Layer upon layer of flesh; skin, fat, muscle all scream in agony when they separate.
>An ungodly sound, one of a slowly strangled creature, shakes the room.
>You don't even realize it's coming from your own throat.
>Tears and sweat dance and mingle in streams on the side of your face
>Liquid fire pools from your new orifice
>Every minute break of the stallion's unkempt hoof feels like a serrated blade prodding your sensitive tissue.
>Your brain finally senses the trauma, your senses start to shut down.
>White light becomes darkness.
>The acrid taste and smell of iron fades.
>Endorphins try to dull the pain.
>The last thing you hear is…
>Wait.
>The blade stopped.
>Was that…?
>You barely latch onto your consciousness, pain omnipresent but no longer increasing
>That was...Rainbow Dash?
>Iron assaults your nostrils again, white spots dot your vision.
>She certainly sounded panicked.
>Huh...something changed. Your..legs?
>She sounds closer now. In fact, you can see a blurry blue streak entering and leaving your vision.
>Oh, your restraints. They’re gone.
>It’s a shame you’ve lost so much blood.
>It makes it hard to move.
>You feel tiny pricks on pain in your abdomen.
>Her words...garbled. “An-...-at...get you...help?”
>More pinpricks.
>Your voice barely works.
….salt….spinach….greens…
>It’s like clockwork, your brain just answers shit.
>You hadn’t even noticed the bite-stick fallen to the side.
>What the fuck WERE those little specks of pain?
>A sudden tug at your belly, your flesh pulling together by twine answers your question.
>Your head rolls to the side and spill the contents of your stomach on the bed.
>Which was...nothing. Nothing but acid.
>Somehow the smell of bile was more comforting than of iron, it made you feel less like you were dying.
>Blurs that you imagine were ponies were frantically dashing about the room, making a hazy rainbow.
>You seem to be intermittently phasing in and out of reality.
>You drink some cold liquid put to your lips.
>Apple juice.
>Time passes. More blurs.
>Food. Lettuce. Tomatoes with salt. Something indistinguishable.
>Sleep.

>You awaken at the sound of a squeaky door followed by pseudo cursing.
>”Aw applesauce, ah told ya ta be mighty careful with the door.”
>”O-oh, sorry…”
>”... Fluttershy, ah was talkin' ta Rainbow. Ya know, the one who opened the door.”
>”Oh yeah, I made it squeak on purpose.  Definitely.”
>”You know you two are making more noise talking than the door did squeaking.”
>”I d-didn't mean to…”
>Sighs. “Fluttershy…”
>”Honestly dears, I wouldn't fret too much about it-”
Yeah, you can’t wake up someone that’s already awake.
>You crack your eyes open, stretching out your arms until an audible pop is heard.
>Your muscles are bit sore from your trials, but you had enough energy to sit up in your bed.
>Your abdomen though, you can feel the two halves of what used to be whole flesh burning, rubbing against each other on a new seam
>Blood drains from your face, you breathe deeply to maintain both your composure and your consciousness
>Their collective gasp is accompanied by a rush of seven ponies crowding around you, all talking at once.
>”You’re awake! That’s s-”
>”-so sorry, I can’t bel-”
>”-rushed as soon as I-”
>”-SOOOO worried, I baked you-”
>Cold sweat beads on your forehead, your breathing and voice shake as you gently push your guests backwards.
Guys, room please.
>You rub your forehead, managing to force a smile.
>You weren't being treated like an insane asylum patient anymore. That was good.
>But why?
>You scan across the ponies, finally registering something abnormal.
...Spitfire? What are you doing here?
>She flicks her flaming mane away from her face, a small smirk there, “Well you could say that we were the one’s that saved you from under the knife.”
>You try to push yourself into a more comfortable position, but your low constitution causes your hands to shake, unable to shift yourself.
We?
>She gives a small tilt of her head, motioning toward Rainbow Dash.
>Your eyebrow raises.
Oh?
>Her blue cheeks and tinged with pink, scuffing the ground with a hoof.
>”She ended up feeding me some rancid fruit after everyone left, but hell, in a couple of days I didn’t feel like I was melting anymore.”
>She slowly unfolds her wings, the one still bandaged and splinted. “Then she had to carry me here too. Refused to leave me alone.”
>You give a light chuckle, mostly in disbelief, ignoring the pain to give her a nod.
We’ll thanks for the save, but I was under the impression you didn’t exactly trust me.
>Rainbow Dash’s blush seems to only intensify, “Yeah well...it was the only thing left to do. I just HAD to do something. And you can’t have the Wonderbolts without their fearless leader, right?”
>Spitfire gives her a playful punch to the shoulder.
>You shake your head, it seems she's as strong-headed as ever. If she had just believed you a bit sooner...you catch sight of the wicked looking stitch job on your chest and cringe.
Ugh, that looks…
>You trace your finger over the pink, mottled skin, shivering a bit at its sensitivity. Dried blood was spatted on the edges.
...like a seamstress did this.
>”Oh my yes, I bet it is. It looks like a basic catchstitch. Although it could have some improvement here, here and here, it looks simply dreadful, like they were in a rush.”
>Oh right, you know a seamstress. And you doubt the 'doctor's' have any sort of experience in that field.
I figure it probably was rushed, but hell if this is how you guys patch people up, you could be a nurse you know, Rarity.
>”Me? A nurse? Oh don’t be silly!” She smiles, staring past you into nothingness, “Well, I COULD be a nurse, or an assistant nurse. Oh I could redesign all of the outfits as well so they’re not these plain white drabby clothes.”
>That was sarcasm, but fuck...it was probably true.
>Twilight manages to sidestep the fashion conversation, “And Nurse Redheart went back to her own place to take care of and monitor everyone there.”
We’ll I’m glad all this bullshit is over.
>They steal glances from each other and you get that wonderful worried feeling in your gut.
>”Well…” Twilight turns her attention back to you.
>Of course.
>”While you were out, all of us were talking. With Princess Luna and Princess Celestia too.”
>You lick your lips, what is life throwing extra on your shit sandwich today.
>”And we all agreed that the whole kingdom could benefit from your knowledge.”
>...
>Why did you have to go through all this shit for this?
>At least...at the very least they won't question you anymore.
>”We all thought it would be a good idea if you could, when you recover of course, if you could, o-oh and if you want of course, to take a walk through the hospital with the doctors and nurses teaching them everything you know. Any little bit helps.”
>You let your head fall back into the pillow, your eyes close. This...this is what you wanted from the start.
Twilight.
>You slowly swallow and nod, a shaky psuedo-smile forming.
I would like to do nothing more.