fan fiction ~To the last Man standing~

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 1

What I could see... honestly, it was likely something from a -really- bad low budget film. Worse than the lake monster horror flicks, or the 'romantic comedy' that used the exact same plot line as five others. I'd learned about the different religions with their gods and goddesses in school, how most of them had certain things they represented or duties they carried out. Of course, I hadn't really taken those things to heart. I mean, sure, they were interesting. But the super natural was something I left to the kids who played computer MMO's and spent hours arguing over whether Thor's hammer could be lifted by another person.

 

Somehow, the universe had conspired to put the de-facto god of cheesy under budget films in front of me. Or was I the one put in front of him? It was better not to think about it. I could already taste copper and the last thing I needed was for my brain to explode. How did I know that would happen? Hell if I know. I guess some of those nerd debates I had listened to rubbed off a little on me. So... I mentioned that he was the God of Shoddy Films. Describing him other than that is hard, mostly because he... or was it a she, kept changing shape. Somehow I got the idea that gender didn't really matter in this case. But if you -have- to imagine it, think of this.

 

Its humanoid. That's probably the only consistent thing about it. It was a god -for- humans, so it had to look vaguely human. At least, that's how I thought of it. Now you've likely seen poorly made horror films before. Take the most poorly acted and ridiculous monster or psycho killer you can summon and through that in there. All of the different 'good' and 'bad' guy stereotypes are mixed in too, as well as their opposites in the female genre. Every bit of hastily applied make-up, rickety monster suit, and half hearted fight scene is shoved in with all the rest. If somehow you could mold that all into one physical form, I'd be interested to see it. This... 'god' however, couldn't seem to get the hang of it.

 

It constantly kept bickering with itself. Not verbally so much as what it looked like. One leg could look like an Elvis Presley impersonator, the sequins and wide pants, the who shi-bang. That look would try to assert itself on the other leg, which looked like the traditional lake monster. The combination was utterly devoid of any common sense. Then the monster leg would throw off the influence of the Elvis leg and counter-attack, all the while fending off the stomache area which was currently the domain of a pot-bellied dark skinned drug dealer.

 

That was essentially how the entire body went about its business, constantly fighting itself in a vain attempt to look like -something- rather than everything. By now you're probably wondering what in sam hell I'm telling you all of this for. That would be a good question, one I don't know the answer to. Are you inside my head? Am I giving a story? Or did any of this ever occur? Gah, sheibe, I can taste copper again. Guess I'd better keep talking before a cranium implosion occurs. Now, I wasn't the only person here. I didn't really count the Movie God as a person though. More like a creepy imitation of a person. There were some other random schmucks like me, who looked like they'd been pulled off the street or from their sleep (which was what had happened to me). That reminded me that I was only in my boxers, not like it made things any stranger though. Then there were the -other- people.

 

'Other' covered a large amount of verbal territory. Basically it equated to what an average middle class citizen would describe as 'What the frig is that?' I kid you not, there were a couple of characters from the Mortal Kombat series, sitting next to some obscure super hero I'd never heard about. I could tell he was a super hero from the tights and color scheme. There were also some wizards and the like, some of whom were arguing over whose fault it was that they were all here. I spotted Ares, the Greek God of War, sitting next to Mars, his Roman counterpart. That was really weird. I knew there was two of them, but my eyes kept telling me there was only one. They were sitting next to the Movie God on old fold out metal chairs, looking bored out of their minds. There were also werewolves, vampires, ghosts, giants, aliens from other galaxies, and basically everything you could think of. What disturbed me the most were the animated and cartoon characters.

 

I had been really into Scoobie-Doo, Tom and Jerry, and Dexter's Laboratory as a kid. Animation and Cartoons had been a part of my life as far back into the past as I could remember, which was a show called 'Blue's Clues' when I was just past being a newborn. Well, here they all were arrayed before me. Clearly everyone and everything around me knew what was going on, except for me and the other regular humans. Most beings of each type had grouped together, bird of a feather fly together and all that. So, somehow me and the other humans had ended up nearby each other as well. It was pretty clear none of -us- knew where we were, who anybody else was, or how we even got here. Things went on like this for a couple of minutes, with us clustered together and scared witless. Sure, there was plenty of cool stuff to see here, but I was so overloaded with all the new things going on that my brain had shut down for its own safety.

 

Then something came flying out of the air and hit me in the face, knocking me to the ground. Now my brain -had- to start working, else I'd likely be dead, trampled without being noticed. I opened my eyes again, which had been shut tight in the hopes that it would all go away. My first thought pretty much summed up what I saw. 'Pink? What the fu-' Then I was in motion again, being clenched between four limbs and rolled around on the ground like some odd child's game. You'd probably think 'why didn't you resist?' But my brain was already working over time just to make sure that all my body parts were still intact and attached, leaving me little processing power to actually move. I could hear someone or something laughing at the top of... her lungs. Her? Didn't sound like any woman or girl I'd ever met-ohshit! Something, not physical but no less real than my own body, was hauling me off the ground and through the air. The giggling was only getting louder and all I could see was still pink. I think at this point I went insane, or possibly blacked out. Either way, next thing I remember seeing was... more pink. But it wasn't the same pink as before. It was a light shade, softer... more gentle? The frigging giggle was gone... wait. No, it wasn't; but it was being muffled somehow.

 

Something was sitting on top of my chest, making it harder to breath than I would have liked. But nothing else was happening at the moment, so I tried to collect my senses and figure out what was happening. Apparently fate didn't like that answer, so things started to happen again. The pink moved out of the way of my vision. Great... now I could see purple. -Such- a massive improvement. Whatever was sitting on my chest got heavier, then lighter than it was originally. I could hear something really loud going on. It sort of sounded like an announcement over an intercom. But like the blasted giggling it was muffled, so I couldn't make out what was being said. I'm -pretty- sure I started to cry after this. I'm not ashamed to say it, though whether it actually happened or not is sort of vague. If I did, it really would be understandable. The mind is only able to handle so much before it breaks. Thankfully I wasn't quite there yet, but I was pretty close. Only -now- did the universe give mercy, apparently satisfied that I was sufficiently subdued.

 

I -know- I fell asleep a this point, because when my eyes opened again I was somewhere else. That and I felt -a lot- better. Its that feeling you get after a good long rest that concluded a lot of sleepless hours and effort. Regardless of the fact that I hadn't actually done anything yet, it was relieving. I was laying in a bed, not my own, and staring at someone's ceiling. It was pretty typical, a neutral color that wasn't too much of anything. A standard ceiling fan and light combo hung in the middle. I couldn't move, but why that was would be made clear in a moment. I managed to move my head a little bit. I saw Pink. It's almost certain that I freaked out and did something rash, because next thing I knew I was face first into the floor and -boy- did I hurt almost everywhere.

 

Something was standing on top of my back, saying something or another. The ringing in my head made it indiscernable due to the heavy hit I had just gotten. Just as my hearing returned to normal, the pressure on my back lifted. At that point I made the seemingly wise decision to remain mostly still, only moving my head enough to look around. The room was still there, but from the floor's perspective this time. I could see the wall and the bed I'd been sleeping on. It appeared to be of decent quality. I was more interested in the Pink though. I swear by everything truthful, it was loud, it was boisterous, and over all it was Pink. It reminded me of a toy horse my sister had when she was a toddler. That toy had creeped me out. But the... I guess it was a pony, in front of me was different. It was... more warm, inviting. The kind of thing even a grizzled war veteran would want to hug and cuddle. Right this moment the pony was crouched down, looking me in the eyes with its own. They were as big as soup bowls, or maybe pizzas. Yeah, more like large size pizzas. A bit of her poofy mane was dangling in front of her head, tickling my nose. I don't think its physically possible, but it had a grin wider than my head.

 

I'm not sure why I did it, but I stuck my tongue out and licked her nose. As best as I can remember, I was thinking 'is this thing made of candy?' Apparently she wasn't, but it got her moving again. In less than a second flat I was in what I think equates to a full body hug when one does not possess hands or feet. Things stopped happening for a minute, so I was able to relax a little bit. This hug... it was nice, comforting. It was like a body pillow was holding you back and nuzzling you. This went on for... perhaps two minutes, before I was let go again. At this point I realized I had been hugging back. I managed to sit up and lean my back against the bed, looking at the pink pony. It appeared she didn't have the capacity to sit still, because she was already off doing something else, chasing her tail this time. She was talking, but I couldn't understand her. By now, the sheer oddity of a pink equine that -talked- was not as shocking as one might expect. My mind just accepted it and stowed it away for examination later, maybe never. I climbed back up onto the bed and laid down, my head hurting pretty bad. I was about to drift off to sleep, but then the -others- showed up.

Edited September 4, 2013 by Higurashi

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 2

There were a variety of colors displayed when the door opened. I'm pretty sure most every color in the rainbow was there, except for red. Wait, no, there as a rainbow style over there to. I supposed that meant it -had- to include red. While it may seem like a rather inconsequential thing to focus on, my brain was still in hardware reboot mode, replacing short circuited cells and what not. So, I just lay there and watched while five techni-color ponies shuffled through the door. One of them, the purple one I think, started talking to the Pink one. This appeared to be rather difficult, as the Pink didn't seem to be physically able to stand in one spot for a long time. Not that I could figure out any of what they were saying. It was certainly a language, but not one I understood. When they spoke, it left a sort of warm fuzzy in my ears, like the meaning was bouncing off of pillows rather ran getting to my brain. One of them, colored white this time, was fussing around the room and straightening up the mess the Pink had made.

 

Those left over seemed to be waiting on some sort of result or conclusion from the Pink and Purple's conversation. One was the equivelant of a cow-girl, coloured a deep orange and wiry from labor. Next to her stood the Rainbow, which seemed to be impatient in the extreme. That one was pretty strong also, but more like a swimmer than a weight lifted. Over in one corner stood the quietest of the lot, whose coat was a soft and subtle yellow. More importantly I recognized her hair, I think its called a 'mane' for horses. It was the calming soft pink that had managed to make me sleep earlier. None of them were paying me much attention, except for the Yellow one. She was constantly looking at me with half hooded eyes. It was not so much a predatory look as one of a mother hen who watches her chicks viligently to keep them from harm. I breifly wondered if she looked at everyone that way.

 

At this point the Purple had gotten fed up with the Pink and came over to examine me. She, at least I think it was a she, seemed to be talking to herself. It seemed to be about me, though what exactly it was, was still hidden from me. I'd been lying still for a while with my eyes almost shut, so I looked more or less asleep. One hoof, different than those of horses I had seen, reached up and ran its tip across my arm. Only now did occur to me that I was still only in my boxers. Wait... oh holy crap my boxers were gone to. I was naked! A feeling of intense embarresment spread across my body, one normally reserved for entering an akward situation with a girl I happened to have a crush on at the time.

 

Carefully, I opened my eyes so as to not startle them and pulled a sheet over myself so that I wasn't completely bare. My cheeks were bright crimson by this point and the edges of my eyes were beginning to water. I'm certainly not a cry-baby. But I am prone to rather intense bouts of emotion. So the shame was over-whelming. In many ways, it seemed odd even to myself that I even cared. After all... they weren't human. But somehow... it was simply the fact that they were sentient, able to talk and converse, that made it unbareable. I suspect most anyone can identify that to be completely nude in front of a stranger and not being able to do much of anything about it is a horrid situation.

 

Despite my caution, the Puple still jumped back a bit when I moved. It did not seem to occur to her -why- I was embarresed, only that I was. She spoke to me with what I approximated was a tone of apology. However, my eyes must have shown that I could not concieve the meaning of her words, because she trailed off about half-way through. Turning to her companions for a moment, she discussed something or another with them. A question or request perhaps? It appeared that the latter was true, because the Yellow came over and got on the bed with me, curling against my chest on the wall side. Her head nestled just below my chin, her eyes staring at mine. Somehow, despite the peculiarity of the situation, it made me calm down and my blush receeded. She remained there for a while like that, examing me, not just physically but in some way mentally as well. It looked like she was weighing my mind and temperment against some scale which only she knew the specifics of. Or maybe it was simply to see what kind of person I was, rather than just what I was as a creature.

 

Eventually she seemed to reach her desired level of understanding and turned her eyes towards the Purple, speaking in their own language at some length. For whatever reason, she remained curled against me despite her task being completed. The other four, exlcluding the Pink who was busy with her own devices, conversed again. This time the Orange made her own way over and began her own examination. She did not get entirely on the bed, merely standing up on it with her front hooves. One of these she pressed against various muscles, seeming to test their give and strength. Her assesment was much shorter than the Yellow's, finished within a minute or so. Thus satisfied, she went off and sat down in on corner next to where the Pink was currently doodling on the wall. Where the hell had she gotten a crayon? It... probably wasn't a good idea to think about it.

 

The White strutted over in her own time, seeming to be perfectly poised and eloquent. What she was looking for I could not entirely ascertain, as she used only her eyes. These seemed to scan my entire body, in particular my face and what hair was on my head. Whatever she seemed to want with me, I did not meet up to as many of her standards as she wanted. She and the Purple had a brief but tense debate over whatever it was. Eventually the White conceded and simply had to settle with whatever dubious qualities she had found in her scan of me. Her opinion didn't seem overly malicious to me in particular. Rather it seemed like she was sad that she couldn't find something better for someone other than herself.

 

While all of that was going on, the Rainbow had been waiting without even attempting to disguise how much she wanted to speed things up. At one point her wings flared out in frustration, causing the Purple to console her in some way. Wait... she had wings? Now that I noticed it, so did the Yellow that was lying against me. As well, both the White and Purple had what very much appeared to be Unicorn horns. This revelation was yet another thing filed into the backlog of my mind in the hopes that I might actually be able to figure it out at some point. It was much more likely that it would simply remain there along with everything else, in order to protect my mind from suffering another breakdown. When her turn finally came, it was not something that I was expecting in the least. That was, she jumped in the air and gave my a swift kick to the gut.

 

Whatever had provoked that, it was probably a lot more simple than what I did as a reaction. I seemed to recover in remarkabley swift time, a matter of less than a second, before leaping from the bed and drawing a weapon. Where exactly I had pulled it from is a mystery that will likely go unsolved. All I knew was that I had some form of outlandish sword in my hand and I was -extremely- angry. In a way, it was somewhat of a relief to have something to strike back at in order to release all of the pent up tension inside of me. Before my brain caught up with my body; I was already moving. The sheet I had been hiding under was in my left hand, gripped much the same way as a Retiarius Gladiator or Matador. This I cast in the Rainbow's face in order to blind her to my movement. My sword stabbed out through the sheet in what could possibly have been a killing blow.

 

However, the Rainbow was quick and backpedaled a bit, so that my blade only cut a shallow scar across one leg. This, ultimately, did not help her entirely too much. This was because she had moved upward and backwards, directly into the spinning tongues of the ceiling fan. One of these caught her across the wing, another smashing into the back of her head and sending her to drop in a heap on the floor on her face. Still caught up in combat mode, I moved forward to finish her off, only to stop before I stabbed downwards. The sheet had ended up draped across me in the manner of a toga. A rip in it allowed my left arm free movement. I could have easily finished the Rainbow off, but I didn't. Perhaps it was the knowledge that it would mean killing another sentient being. Or maybe it was the stares of the other five boring into me, especially the Yellow and Pink. Quite possibly it was both of these, mixed in with the thought that I -still- didn't know what was going on, and that killing might very well prevent me from ever knowing.

 

So I stood still a moment, the blade vanishing back to wherever it had come from. Slowly, the red had dissipated from my mind and I kneeled down. The Rainbow did not seem to be severly hurt, though she'd likely have a bad headache. Still, she was having trouble getting back up, so I helped her stand. It was not known to me until later that -this- had been the real test. The others were neccessary in their own way, but this had been what had sealed the deal. I had been tested on my mental fortitude, strength, appearance, knowledge, and temperment. But in the end, what really mattered here was how I dealt with conflict. I was able to fight, and fight well, that was for sure. But the ability to restrain myself when the rush of combat was upon me, to show discipline and mercy, that was what they were looking for. I also did not know that if I had attempted to kill, I would have gotten my ass handed to me by the other five. This much I was able to find out from later interactions and comments, though it was never explicitly stated.

 

Standing back up again, I looked at them all standing in front of me. They seemed to be waiting for something, something from the Purple. Her horn started to glow, growing from the warmth of a candle to a blinding light like that of a star. As it faded again, my ears popped like they would if I was descending from high altitude in an airplane. "I'm... glad to see that you are a good person," the Purple said to me, genuine happiness in her voice. Her words were strange to my ears. They felt odd in my head, like a sudden clarity had been brought to an out of focus picture. "Rainbow Dash can be a little... well, rash at times. But she means well, I hope you'll come to find out." She seemed on the verge of saying something else, but the Pink jumped onto my and into my arms, making me sit down rather roughly.

"You're like, totally AWESOME!" she squealed. "The way you pulled that sword out of the air like ~shoom~! And how you moved so quick it looked like you skipped around from place to place like Twilight's teleportation spell when she casts it wrong! OH! You ought to see how silly it looks when she casts one of her spells wrong! I remember one time she-" My ears were spared another torrent of words, as the Yellow made her way over and plugged the Pink's mouth. "I'm sorry about Pinkie Pie...," she whispered softly. "She's just like that, always so excited and ready to play at every moment. My name is... Fluttershy. You've... met Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. The two Unicorns are Twilight Sparkle, the purple one, and Rarity, the white one who's making herself busy with fixing the bed sheets. Finally, there is Applejack, the orange mare with the hat. I... understand if you're a bit confused. Goodness knows I am with all of what is going on. But... together we form something called... well, it would be better to explain that later, when you know more. For now, I'll just say we're a group of sorts. We were one of many groups chosen to compete in... well... a competition."

 

"The one who looks like he's made out of a lot of different things is looking for some kind of entertainment. So... he brought a bunch of different groups with different powers to this place, which is called 'The Set'. I think its his home. As well a number of people, humans like yourself, were also brought. Each group was given a human, whom they were supposed to... train. Then, all of the humans would... well... fight, in a big tournament. We still don't know exactly what the goal or prize is. I'd normally never consider participating... but there's a catch. If we don't win... our home, the place we come from, will be destroyed. As much as I hate this, I simply -can't- let that happen to Equestria. So... you're the human... person, who we selected. Or rather, Pinkie Pie selected you before the rest of us could decide. She does things like that... though she almost always ends up being correct in her choice."

 

This was how I was cast into the competition called: 'The Grand Cinema Tourney'. I was now tasked with not only fighting, but winning. If I didn't win, I'd die, and my new-found friends and all they knew would die. It seemed that things couldn't get worse from there. As usual, that assumption was dead wrong.

 

Chapter 3

The Grand Cinema Tourney... it sounded like any other grandiose or over-hyped pop-culture competition that I had seen on posters or commercials in my regular day to day life. In a way, it was just as silly as I had always thought it would be. But still... there was a certain allure to it all. Fighting for not only your survival, but that of a whole world's, against a whole pantheon of enemies from all walks of life. The cheer of the crowd and the rush of battle was certainly a siren's song that could easily lance right into my soul. Whats more the fact that it wasn't my choice, with no way to turn back, lifted a certain weight of responsibility off of my shoulders. Because the guilt that I would otherwise would have felt dooming someone else and shattering their chances off winning, it was over-shadowed by my own will and the need to survive. Also, I'm rather ashamed to admit, I have a competetive streak longer than the Nile River. Losing at something, anything, was simply intolerable to me. This had gotten me into equal shares of trouble and fortune in the past and it would continue to do so here.

After my introduction to the six mares who would be my company for what was too come, things moved rather slowly, or so it seemed to me. I was shown to my own personal room, just a few steps down a surprisingly average looking hallway. The design and architecture made it look much more like an upscale hotel or apartment complex than what it actually was: the fighter's quarters of the Battle Arena. But more on that later. My own room was rather nice, that was for certain. A large and comfortable looking bed was in the center-rear of the room, partially tucked into an alcove with the foot of the bed sticking out into the room itself. There was what appeared to be a wardrobe and some kind of locker. The latter had a plague labeled 'Weapons and Misc Gear', so I took that to be its purpose. Otherwise there was a sitting area and some bookshelfs, in addition to what was honestly a rather opulent bathroom. It always seemed curious to me what people thought was important, such as how their toilet looked, despite the fact that they'd be the only ones to see or use it.

Further down the hallway was a Commons Room, with a kitchen, dining area, and entertainement setup. Oddly enough, it only had a ancient movie projector and an old style 18" music disc player. I seemed to be the only one to find this odd, so I didn't mention it. The mares seemed content to go about whatever business they had after showing me around a bit, so I was left to my own devices. Rather naturally, I thought it would be a good idea to explore a bit more around the complex I had been put in, so I went over to the door that I presumed to be the exit/entrance to our quarters. That, in restrospect, was an incredibly bad idea. The door latch was of a curved fashion rather than a knob and the instant I had set my hand opponent I got an incredibly nasty shock, both figuratively and literally. This sent me flying back a yard or two, firmly planting my on my butt and knocking me senseless. An intercom I hadn't noticed before sprung to life on the cieling. "Look at that my friends!" a boisterous and unpleasently throaty voice said in a mocking tone. "One of you was stupid enough to try and leave after I -explicitly- told you that no one was to leave their quarters until I said so. Lets see now... oh, this is a surprise! Team Harmony is the one to violate the rules! What a twist."

"Now, as I mentioned to y'all earlier, there's a surprise punishment for breaking this rule in particular. Here's your prize little ponies; your combatent is now sent to the top of the list of competitors, making him be the one taker part in the first fight in twenty minutes! Lets see who the other competitor will be... Oh, that's gonna hurt. Team Harmony, the first fight will be between your defiant little candidate and Team M.K.'s choice! That looks like it will certainly be an... interesting, matchup. Start looking for clover and crossing your fingers if you have any kiddo's, cause this thing is going down in... nineteen minutes. Readysetgo!"

I was still a little delirious and had just managed to sit back up when I got a hard smack to the back of my head. "What did you go and do that for!" an expasperated voice said from behind me. Upon looking it was revealed to be the one called Rainbow Dash. "Now we're totally -screwed-! Yeah, that thing with the sword was pretty neat earlier, but I saw those Mortal Kombat guys earlier. Whoever they picked is going to be, like, twice your freakin size!" The previous announcement and the following tyrade had drawn the other five over to me as well. "Don't be so hard on him Rainbow," Twilight Sparkle cut in on my behalf. "He was still asleep when the announcement was made earlier. We were still trying to get his spine back in line after Pinkie slammed into him." Well... that explained why I hadn't been able to move. Rainbow Dash seemed like she wanted to retort, but she thought better of it and clamped her mouth shut.

"Still... this is not the best situation to be in," the one named Rarity sighed. "We were going to have two days to train and well... now we have an increasingly small number of minutes to try and make the best of what we can. Does anyone have -any- ideas at all?" The other five considered this for a moment. In what I soon came to learn was typical fashion, Pinkie Pie answered before any of the rest could get their thoughts ordered. "Why don't we, y'know, tell them that he's sick or something!" She said with a gasp of air. "Then he wouldn't have to fight!" Twilight Sparkle quickly shot this idea down, explaining to Pinkie in as simple words as possible that the rules wouldn't allow us to do that. Pinkie still didn't get it, but she shot up with another suggestion anyways. "Why don't we do something to help him out a bit in the fight then!? Twilight, Rarity, you two could cast some magic on him to like, protect him and stuff!" This time Twilight considered the practicality of it. Since everyone else drew a blank, that was what they decided to do.

The next minutes were a rush of finding suitable spells and what equipment I wanted to use. It was ultimately decided that I should rely more on my wits and cunning rather than agility or strength. I certainly had both of those to some degree, but not enough that it would radically benefit me. So I was outfitted in some medium weight body armor. It was made of leather with metal studs worked into the shoulders and other exposed surfaces. The one concession to weight that was made was a metal helmet that wrapped around me entire head in the old Greek or Roman style. Quite frankly, it was really hot inside of just that. So in addition to some basic warding and reflection spells Twilight had time to cast, she made it so that the inside of the armor was cool and refreshing rather than stifling.

It seemed like only moments had passed before the front door popped open of its own accord. Two burly guys that looked something like club bouncers guided, guarded rather, me down another hallway and a couple of flights of stairs. On the way I could see other people making their way in a similar direction, though they were primarily head up rather than down as I was going. Soon enough we reached what looked like a sports facility locker room. Not pausing for even a moment, the two thugs pushed me onward into what very much appeared to be a medieval or ancient stone tunnel, like what you'd see in old movies about arenas. Wait... oh crap. It was a tunnel into an arena! I could already see the light growing ahead of me with the steadily loud noise of a crowd waiting around for an event to begin.

I was pushed out past a metal gate, which was firmly shut behind me, leaving me to face the crowd. It was a huge arena, like something that you'd see in Rome or other big cities. Oddly enough, the arena floor seemed to be made out of hard surfaced grid pattern blocks. Each was about an inch or so squared. Even as I watched, they shifted beneath my feet and lifted into the air so that I was standing on a pedastel for all to see. Across the arena floor I could see my opponent in a similar spot. Just like Rainbow had expected, he was a huge brute of a man. His thighs looked like they could crush my head between them like a sparrows egg. Other than that, I could vaguely make out that he had dark skin and long hair. That was about it. Oh, well, he seemed to be fighting bare-handed. That didn't raise my confidence much. I had played Mortal Kombat with my buddies on occasion. Some of the characters could rip a guy's spine out with one hand. This guy didn't look much different.

Some loud and obnoxious announcement was made by the Movie-Man, who sat on a throne up in the stands next to Ares/Mars. It basically amounted to him talking about how great he was and the rules of the fight, which were none. Well, great. That just meant I was -definitely- going to die. Wait... screw that! There was no way I was going to die in a situation as ridiculous as this! I refused to go out in something this stupid! That just meant I had to win then. Without much further adue, the starting horn was blown and the fight began. The first thing that the big guy did was grasp a huge chunk of the floor, rip it out of the ground, and throw it at me. It was probably a foot-ball field or more between us, but he threw it like he was skipping a pebble across a pond. I barely had enough time to dive off the pedastel and get back to my feet before the boulder smashed into where I had been standing. Small inch cubes rained from the sky like hail with the debris. Well that could have hurt alot than it did, which was still pretty bad. I'd landed on my shoulder. Thankfully it wasn't my arm, but it still was inconvenient. Before he could throw another boulder, which he did, I took off running.

Think of it this way: if I stayed away from him, he could throw things at me all he liked. But if I got close, he could pulverize me. On the other hand, I couldn't hit him from far away with a sword. Wait... what if I- As soon as I had though about it, the sword was gone, replaced with something like a crossbow, except a lot bigger. It had a stand that I had to lean it on so that I could hold it upright and aim it. I'd used one or two regular crossbows on hunting trips with my dad. Even without that, the concept was pretty simple. Point and shoot. Thankfully it was already loaded and cocked. I'm not sure if I could have pulled the draw-string back on my own, or with three other guys to help me. So, I'd have to make one shot count. I cradled the arm-rest against my shoulder and placed my hand around the trigger, breathing deeply to slow my heart down.

Of course, the big guy wasn't just going to let me sit there and take pot shots at him. Instead, he picked up a chunk of cubes bigger than he was and lobbed it at me like it was an incoming meteor. I pushed the thoughts of getting pulped out of my head. If I missed the shot I was dead and if he hit me with that throw I was dead. Either way, I'd simply have to take my chances and aim carefully. Just before the rock impacted, I pulled the trigger. Something about the weight or balance of his throw had sent him just a little too far to the right. Meaning it hit a yard to my left and knocked me off my feet rather than smashing me into a runny smear on the ground. My shot on the other hand... well, it was still off by a bit, but it hit what I was aiming at. I'd been aiming for his heart and other vital organs. The quarrel was so big that it'd probably knock a head sized hole in his torso. It didn't do quite that much, but instead it caught him in the upper portion of his left arm.

The resulting injury... it wasn't pretty. I would prefer not to describe it in detail. But I will say that it knocked him from where he was standing and that he'd most likely never have use of that arm again. I was in pretty rough shape, but nothing near as bad as that. Pieces of cubic shrapnel had impacted me in numerous places, leaving some nasty bruises and probably cracked bones. Thankfully, none had done damage to my head due to my wise choice to wear a helmet. I managed to get to my feet and stumble over to where I thought the other guy had landed. I'm not sure if the crowd had gone silent or was roaring their heads off, mine was ringing too much for me to feel anything. Much as I had already stated, the wound I had made was gruesome. The poor bastard had also cracked his head against the ground when he fell, knocking him out cold. Probably for the best. Having some vauge knowledge of how Roman Gladiator combat when, I looked back at the Movie-Man for some kind of judgement. He and Ares/Mars seemed to be in some kind of group huddle. Eventually the Movie-Man stood up, spread his fingers flat, and made a horizontal swipe with it while saying something or another.

I hadn't a clue what that meant. Later I was informed that the Movie-Man had added a couple of extra options to the usual 'mercy' or 'death' choice. In particular, I could no be declared the winner without having to go through the crowd choice of life or death. This had been what had happened, apparently because it would be a 'waste of talent' if the big guy had been killed off right there. I was told however, that this was going to be an exception rather than the rule. More than likely if I lost, it meant I was going to die. So I was given some kind of medal or another and bundled off to my quarters and team were waiting. It was a bit of a sombre welcome that they gave me, but they were genuinely glad to see me back and victorious. Fluttershy had my head resting against her flank while Twilight and Rarity fixed me up as best they could with their magic. As I slowly drifted back off to sleep, I could hear her whispering to me how I had done a great job and how happy she was to see me alive. That gave me a strange kind of gladness that I hadn't experienced before, but it was still offset by the feelings of anxiety and sadness that would likely permeate my mind for most of the Tourney. Then all was black and I was off to sleep.

Edited September 4, 2013 by Higurashi

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 4: Intermission

I woke back up feeling rather warm and comfy, something that I hadn't been able to experience much even in my normal life. Things certainly looked like they weren't bound to get any better within the visible future; so I decided to just stay half-asleep and savor the experience. My brain, despite the severe kicking around it had been getting lately, still had enough spunk in it to make me think. What exactly was -making- me so comfortable? It wasn't like the bed had heat controls on it or something. Maybe it did. Wait... no... that didn't match up. I could feel steady breathing and a heart-beat other than my own. Maybe I had just been having a nightmare and was at home with some girl in my bed? No... I hadn't even succesfully dated a girl for two years now, so that was out. That and... whatever was laying next to me felt too... velvetine and silken. It felt like perfectly warmed water was caressing my side as it pressed up against me. Well I sure as hell didn't know what could feel like that! Nothing but animals had hair all over them like that. Wait... animals? Ah crap.

 

A reluctant glance towards my chest revealed much what I had expected, and hoped not to, see. Under the covers that rose up to my shoulders was a fairly good sized equine shaped lump that was nestled against me. Maybe it was the Pink again? I couldn't seem to get used to calling her Pinkie Pie in my head. It just didn't seem to fit like it did for Twilight Sparkle or Fluttershy. Well... as far as I had experienced the Pink was so hyper that she probably ran around in her sleep, so this probably wasn't her. So who would sneak into my bed at night? Most of the others seemed too... withdrawn in their various ways. Each had their own little things about them that probably made it hard for people to get up close to them initially. Some even struck me as the kind that wouldn't be interested in me, even if I was their species. Well, all except for one other, having already discounted the Pink from my options. A subtle shift of my shoulder allowed the sheet to slide back a bit, revealing the soft yellow snout of Fluttershy laying on top of my arm.

 

I was still a little baffled as to -why- she was in here, with me in particular. All of the six of them seemed tight as could be. So it seemed much more likely that she would go to sleep with one of them if she was scared or something. Apparently my memory's backlog space had been filled to the maximum, because this thought refused to be forgotten about. I likely wouldn't get it out of my head until I found out why. Still... it seemed like such a shame to wake her up, she was so peaceful and... well... she had a sort of cuddly aura around her. Like the most adorable pet you've ever seen. Cuteness probably had her picture in place of words in their dictionary. As things turned out, I didn't have to wake her up, she did on her own, though slowly at that. It took her awhile to finally open her eyes and glance at me, from which she could tell I had been watching her. A bright avenue of crimson lit up across her face and she ducked back under the covers, using her hooves to keep it hiding her head.

 

I could vaguely hear something that sounded like a torrent of muffled apologies coming from under the sheets. Eventually I decided to face the issue head on. She was redder than a beet when I pulled the covers up so that she was exposed. Now it was time for -me- to be embarresed. Once again I had ended up in only the clothes I was born with (nothing), in bed with another person (pony?) no less! Why the hell did this keep happening? It was like the universe had decided my underwear was a valuable collectors item and kept stealing it from me every time my back was turned. All of this went through my head in a second, causing me to push the sheets back down to cover myself. We both sat there silently for a moment, during which I noticed she was still curled up against me. "Hey... Fluttershy," I said soothingly, just as much to calm myself down as her. "What are... you doing in here? Did you need something?"

 

"N-n-no...," she whispered back. "I... came in to check on you last night... You had been asleep for a long time after your fight and... I was a little worried that you might have been more hurt than we originally thought. So I came in to... y'know... see how you were doing. Your face was drawn so tight... like you were afraid of something or angry. So I came in and laid down with you... so that you would get better sleep." Out of all the explanations she could have given, that one seemed to fit the best. I just chuckled, leaned over, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you Fluttershy... I'm glad that you're looking after me like that. Just... tell me beforehand if something is on -your- mind, m'kay?" Her blushed receedded a little bit and she laid her head back down on my chest. "Yeah," she said softly. "Okay... Do you mind if I... just stay here, like this, for a while? I... haven't slept this good for weeks." Instead of replying I just laid back down and put an arm around her. Soon we were both back off in dreamland, resting for what was to come. It will likely seem strange how I acted here. Some will likely think that there were some 'romantic' conotations. Quite frankly, I wouldn't be in a spot to affirm or deny those claims. All I know is that it felt like the right thing to do then, with me and her trying to catch some much needed Z's.

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 5

When my eyes fluttered back open some time after I had drifted off, I found that I was alone. It was... a curious feeling to say the least. Ever since I had come to this place, which couldn't be more than two or three days ago, I hadn't had hardly a moment to myself. So, the relative silence and solitude caused a sense of queasiness in my stomache. Typically I felt like this on the first night I slept in a hotel room, or when something big was changing. In a way, my current location would satisfy both of those prerequisites by an acceptable margin. It went without saying that the events I was now enrolled in were of great importance to not only myself, but entire worlds, perhaps realities. My mind seemed to have sorted through some of the miscellaneous oddities I had witnessed, thankfully finding most either inconsequential or believable enough to not present a threat. There were a few things that I found a little hard to acknowledge, but it was good that I still had room in my mind for doubt and uncertainty. That meant that I was still alive and in possession of my mental faculties.

 

This in mind, I slipped out of the bed and over to what seemed to be the wardrobe. Opening revealed, much to my surprise, a normal piece of furniture interior. Though, of course, the clothes contained within were far from standard day to day attire. It was quietly reassuring to me that at least -one- thing in this place could be taken at face value and wasn't likely to hurt me or give me a scare. After considering what I should put on for a minute, I decided to dress with practicality in mind. That equated to form fitting but flexible pants, a t-shirt, a vest, and some athletic shoes. These, being packed in with the battle armor and various electronic do-hickees, were still just a bit different than normal fabric. It seemed almost as if the various pieces automatically modified themselves to make me more comfortable. It was an indescribable sensation, one which I still cannot put words to no matter how much I consider it. There are some things which you simply have to experience for yourself to understand.

 

After finishing the tasks neccesary to not look like a total fool, I emerged from my room and almost tripped over Rarity. She, on the other hand, was caught off guard and would have landed flat on her face if I hadn't reached out to catch her. Instead of thanking me, she simply got steady and huffed to herself. Without a moment's pause she continued on with whatever she had been doing and strutted down the hallway. She didn't so much as look back at me. Admittedly, I was quite irritated by this, having being impressed upon at a young age that courtesy and politeness were important. Whats more, she had seemed to be the kind of personality that would pain-stakingly pay attention to every last detail of manners and ettiquete. I chose not to brood on it for the time being and went off to find Twilight, or anyone else who knew what was going on.

 

I knew in the back of my head that I ought to start training and or preparing for the next battle in some way. But I still hadn't a clue where I would do any of that. Some ideas came to mind that their was likely a gym, practice field, or some such around here. I was, however, less inclined to simply go searching for it than I had been previously. The door handle had reminded me rather starkly last time to ask around before simply jumping in feet first. Answers were not long in coming, as Twilight Sparkle emerged from the room that the six of them had taken residence in. It briefly occured to me that I should feel honored or grateful, as I had a room all to myself where they had to share. Of course, that was somewhat dulled by the knowledge of what my duties were going to entail. "Ah, there you are," she said with relief in her voice. "You're probably wondering where and when we should start practicing. I made a list of all the things that are available, but I realized that some of them weren't exactly compatible with your body, so I narrowed down the options a bit."

 

The list was still extensive, despite the portions which had been cut out. They ranged across just about everything that anyone could find remotely useful and quite a few things I hadn't a clue as to how someone would use. Those that piqued my interest had to do with magic and similar subjects that I didn't know much about. In particular I was wondering how I kept pulling weapons out of nowhere. A brief discussion with Twilight revealed that she didn't know either, only having suspicions and no time for experiments or tests. To everyone else, it looked like the given weapon would simply fade into reality when I summoned it. I wasn't even sure -how- I did it. To my complete lack of surprise, I was not able to replicate the ability when I was simply standing around and not fighting. Between the two of us, we concluded that it would be best to expand upon the abilities that I already possessed and could be measured. One such thing was an aptitude for magic that Twilight seemed interested in.

 

As was explained to me, I did not have magic of my own, at least in the more obvious sense. Everything had a degree of magic in it, but how much there was and whether you could access it varied widely from person to person. One could have almost no magic of their own but be able to masterfully manipulate it, or have a huge repository but no outlet. To cut to the chase, I was a sort of amplifier or mirror. I did not have access to my own magic, but could quite easily drawn power from other sources, often to greater effect than others would be able to maintain. A cheap magic wand could become a powerful weapon of destruction in my hand. As a side effect or consequence, I was incapable of actually casting or learning my own spells. That last bit has always confused me. As best as I understand, it means that I can make magical items or other people's spells more powerful, but not do anything on my own. With this now known to us, we decided it best that we try to increase the amount I could magnify the power within magical objects (weapons mostly) by practice and concentration.

 

This we did in our own quarters for now upon the recommendation of Applejack. It was a bit of common sense really: there was no need to let our competition know about my strengths and weaknesses unless we had to. So going to the training grounds would be rather stupid, as pretty much anyone could see and observe us there. Items embued with different levels and types of magic were easy enough for the others to find and bring back. The most interesting piece (in my mind anyways) was a stopwatch. I had to constantly resist the urge to fiddle with it, as Twilight was rather adament that I absolutely should not mess with time without the upmost caution and preparation. Despite that I was inclined to agree with her, it was much like telling a five year old to not eat the cookies that are sitting only a foot or two away. Fortunately I was significantly older than that, but it was still difficult.

 

The results of hours spent focusing on my ability was met with mixed results. Weapons of all sorts seemed to hum with power when my fingers touched them. More passive objects went through lesser effects, though still a fair shot better than their original power. Downsides, when they presented themselves, were a matter of contention amongst us seven. While certainly their usefullness increased by order of magnitude when used by me, the effect was something like an explosion, a lot of force followed by nothing. Basically that meant I exhausted the available magic incredibly quick. As well, when my focus slipped, bad things happened. A typical flaming sword shot out of my grip like a rocket and impaled itself in the ceiling when I was distracted by the Pink. A cloak of invisbility turned everything within three meters unseeable, only sorting itself out when Twilight went through an ardous process of counter hexing.

 

During this time we learned when the next fight was to take place via some listening done by the six mares when they went out for more enchanted items. This round would not include us. Instead the participants would be between the Super-Villains and Cartoons. Common opinion was that the Super-villains were in for it, which caused me to inquire further. The danger in it was two-fold, it was clarified. For one part, Super-Villains had a long and cliched history of loss, though that was of course against Super-Heroes. That kind of thing mattered, as it fostered a notion in the mind of Super-Villains that they would -never- win, often making that assumption a reality as an unintended consequence. Secondly, the Cartoon faction was shaping up to be a power-house in the coming events. Cartoons, by basic principle, were immortal and nearly invulnerable in some case. Many of them went through things on a regular basis which could kill twenty regular men in an instant. That and the fact that you sub-conciously assumed that they were not a threat due to their exaggerated features. Nothing that cute could kill... right? Given, the actual fight would be between the human proteges of both teams, but it was undoubtable that some degree of their mentor's characteristics would be bestowed to them.

 

The actual fight took place on the next day, with the seven of us taking our seats in the competitor section of the stands. I had been too occupied to notice before, but there was a huge crowd observing the events other than those actually competeing. It seemed plausible that well over a million individuals were present, of all makes and appearances. When the round started, there was a cheer that literally shook the bench I sat on. There was a quick and gruesome conflict, if it could justifiably be called anything with even a degree of honor in it, after which the crowd began a mass exodus back to where-ever they had come from. Much to his credit, the Super-Villain candidate had made quite a fight out of it, despite the speed with which it ended. He'd been a thin man with glasses and wispy white hair, though the look on his face had been of grim determination. He'd been equipped with a mecha-suit and a plethora of gadgets. The Cartoon protege had been... disturbing to watch. It... couldn't rightly be called 'he' or 'she' by the time it had walked into the arena. It was monstrously malformed so that it had similar features to its masters, only made out of flesh and blood. It had not needed equipment, fighting with its bare hands, which had been more than enough.

 

It had looked like a wave of flesh colliding with an avalanche of technology. Lasers, electricity, and robots had flown so thick that it actually blocked both combatents from view in a dazzling display. As much as could be figured out, the Super-Villain had succesfully killed his opponent by burning him to a crisp, only to die of suffocation due to a crushed wind-pipe. As such, it had been called a victory for the Super-Villains. Their contestant had survived longer than his opponent, so they won. But their protege was dead none the less, so they still lost in the long run. There was some manner of consolation prize, but I didn't stick around to listen. All seven of us had simply left as soon as possible, not wanting to be witness to this madness. We continued to practice with my ability for a few more hours, after which I went to sleep. I felt Fluttershy crawl in before I went completely to sleep, but I just held her and floated off into dreams. Perhaps I should have thought that decision through a little more carefully.

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 5

The following days, about four if I remember correctly, passed without much incident. When we were not practicing or otherwise trying to do whatever we could to increase my power, which was most of my waking hours, we'd go out and (try to) relax. The competitor's quarters was quite expansive by any measure, hosting numerous sitting areas, places of fun, and food in addition to things one would normally assume to be intergrated into an establishment like this. This confused me a bit, as it hadn't really occured to me yet just -why- the Movie Man would allow such things to those who fought. Over time I came to the conclusion that it was a multi-faceted reasoning that had led to the plethora of buffets and salons I passed by. On one hand, all work and no play would ruin the fun of the affair for the competitors. While yes, they had a great burden on their minds, there was no need to make them live in squalor. Quite to the contrary, it would allow them to focus more on training if they did not need to worry about such things. However, there were some hidden dangers lurking amongst the plates and cushions. If one became -too- relaxed, it would be very easy to grow lazy and be defeated as a result.

 

My companions made sure that I did not suffer this fate, though it was only a partial consolence to me. They seemed bound and determined to keep anything non-nutritional and tasty away from my mouth, and kept me isolated from everything comfortable but by own bed. I hadn't really taken much notice of it, but Fluttershy seemed to come in close contact me with increasing frequency as the days passed. Once or twice I caught her staring at me for minutes on end, typically when I was otherwise distracted by other matters. For whatever reason, my mind did not pay much attention to it, instead shuffling it off into the back of my mind. Even so... it began to bother me a little bit, a sense of wrongness slowly forming at the edge of my memory. It kept trying to make me realize something important, but was always flitting out of my grasp. Eventually I had to force it back down to silence so that I could focus on current events. In retrospect, it is never a good idea to totally ignore a gut feeling like that.

 

On the morning of the fifth day after the match between the Super-Villains and Cartoons, things in that corner came to a head. It had become a fairly common occurence by now that Fluttershy slept with me instead of her friends. None of them had seemed to consider it much of a problem, simply accepting it as I had. I had been reassured (mistakenly as it turned out) by their lack of comment, on account of them knowing her better and longer than I had. So when I woke up and found myself unable to move, it proved to be quite a bit of shock to my system. In so far as I could tell, I was not bound by my hands or feet. So the lack of ability to just move my fingers and everything else confused me all the more. Even my eyelids staunchly refused to obey my mind, leaving me blinded. I could feel something laying on top of my chest, heavy enough that it made it hard to breath. There was another beating heart there, breathing as well, and I could feel the soft tickle of feathers on my arms. That meant it was -probably- Fluttershy, though it was also possible (though i doubted it) that it could be Rainbow Dash.

 

After a long agonizing minute of concentration and cursing fluently inside my head, my eyes opened with what felt like a gargantuan effort. Yep, it was Fluttershy, though.... her head wasn't facing me. Instead she was facing the opposite direction, towards the door. Her tail was flicking slowly back and forth, brushing across my throat with each stroke. What the hell was going on? I am certainly not naive by the standards of the average human male. So that occurred to me briefly. But the evidence seemed to favor it not being that for the time being. The lack of certain actions made me rather sure that no such thing was occuring. Plus, Fluttershy had this... protective air around her, like she was guarding against something. Also, the universe had apparently gotten tired of its little game and I had managed to still be wearing my pants. At least that was one thing I had going for me. Even so... the other conditions made me wary, doubt clouding my thoughts. What exactly what Fluttershy doing? Had she caused my immobility? If so, why?

 

My brain, ever spiteful, coallesced what I was thinking into a statement. 'I'm stuck laying still in a bed, in an arena which I have no idea as to where it is located, in a tournament in which I could possibly die, with a techni-color mare sitting on my chest in a possibly sexual situation. What, the, buck.' As things kept moving on without my consent, as they normally did, I didn't have much time to reflect on this. I could hear the other five calling out for Fluttershy and myself, one of them eventually knocking on the door with a loud series of taps. Fluttershy seemed to bristle in irritation at this, what looked like hackles rising on her neck. As the door opened, her face turned into a feral growl and her wings pushed out with a snap. Her five compatriots were standing in the doorway, momentarily stunned and rather put off by the display. They seemed as confused as I was, which at least meant I wasn't stupid. One, Applejack I think, started to speak only for her words to be drowned out by a viscious sounding growl from Fluttershy.

 

The five of them withdrew for a moment to take an emergency group huddle. A few moments of terse whispering ensued, with eyes carefully observing Fluttershy every once in a while. Meanwhile, I was still stuck where I was, with a growing desire to sneeze. Every time Fluttershy's tail brushed by, it made by nose itch unbarably. But as I could not move, I could not sneeze as a result. Twilight Sparkle stepped into the room, which caused Fluttershy to once again growl with a feralness more befitting a wolf or large wild cat. Twilight, for her credit, didn't back down. Instead she fixed Fluttershy with a stare that could crush granite. "Fluttershy. You need to let him go. I get that you're concerned for him, but this isn't the right way to be going about it." Fluttershy simply retorted with one word, "Mine!" The standoff continued like this or a couple of minutes, with a battle of wills waged in the air between the two of them. Somehow, I knew that they hadn't been telling me something, which was the source of the issue that they now fought over.

 

Being unable to do something had always grated against my nerves, ever since I was able to first comprehend the difference between 'do' and 'do not'. This and the knowledge that a secret had been kept from me was steadily drawing my ire. A feeling like a kettle of blood coming to a boil started to condence inside of my chest, pushing upwards and seeking release. My heart started to beat at a speed more often used by hummingbirds. Perhaps not the fiercest analogy that could be used, but certainly appropriate when it came to speed. Veins bulged on my arms and visible skin as I slammed into whatever was restraining me with my mind, be it poison, magic, or physical. A sound like a rushing torrent of breaking glass cresendo'd in my ears, drowning out everything else in a tide of anger. With all of that build up, I felt like I would burst into flame or explode. Instead I simply shot up into a sitting position, rolling a startled Fluttershy haphazardly into my lap.

 

The sudden absence of something to resist was met with a mixed feeling of pain and happiness. I had overcome my restraints, but now all of that pent up energy was coursing as of yet unused through my body. I cannot describe to you just how badly I wanted to break something, anything, in that one moment. The urge to crush anything I could get my hands on into tiny pieces blasted across my conciousness like the roar of a thousand battle horns trumpeting and the ground shaking as a million soldiers charged towards the enemy. But still, that one little piece of me which could allegorically be called the commander of this previously mentioned army took ahold of my reins and yanked back my bloodlust into submission. Even so, it was still a struggle to not do as I wish at that instant. When the red faded out of my vision again, I was covered from head to toe in sweat and was panting heavily. Fluttershy and the others were looking at me with expressions of both awe and fear, not sure what I would do next. After catching my breath, I looked back up and said, "We... probably need to talk about -what- exactly just happened and is going on around here."

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 6

Their explanation took a while, as none of them knew the complete story and all had pieces to add in. When finally glued together in my head, the result was still rather confusing and had many empty spaces. It had to do with the abilities I had and how much I used them ,in addition to how and when. Their observations seemed to (for the most part) conclude that whatever I was doing, it was somehow dangerous to me. Whether that was physically, emotionally, or mentally was still unknown. But there were noticable changes, not all of them good, manifesting ever sense I had first pulled a sword out of the air.

 

My muscles were stronger and more flexible than they were before, which was a bonus. On the other hand, something was off about my spinal structure, causing me to stand much taller than I normaly would, about five inches or so. This seemed to be linked to a series of changes in my bones, the most visible of which was my ribcage. Each rib was starting to grow larger and flatter, seeming to create a bone chest plate to protect my heart and other vital organs. My body was finding it hard to adapt to the increased weight and structure, at least initially. This and various other growths required a great amount of nutrients and vitamins in order to form properly. There were some obvious undesirable side effects if my bones grew in the wrong direction for example.

 

Among other things, I was becoming increasingly quiet and reclusive, forcing the Six of them to constantly seek me out and keep my attention in order to get anything done. Fluttershy was of the opinion that I was becoming 'contemplative', though Rainbow Dash percieved it more as being rude and not wanting to talk to them. Though out of all of these visible changes, the most disturbing (at least to Twilight Sparkle) was my expressions and temperment. I couldn't see it when I looked in the mirror. What she proclaimed to see was an increasingly feral and unpredictable mood, much like that of a wolf or other large predator. She told me that my eyes seemed to constantly bore into her, seeking out weak spots and gaps in her guard. This gave me a lot to think about, but there was even more.

 

What caused my abilities to not only be potentially dangerous to others, but to myself, was how my power interacted with my body. While I was still not able to access my own reserves of magic at will, a link was formed whenever I used a magical object. Her theory was that it somehow increased the effect of the magic used by cycling the power through my body, refining it. That was her best guess anyways. The danger was that when the magic in the object ran out, I would begin to draw on my own reserves without noticing the difference. So I could be swinging a magic sword in the middle of a battle and unwittingly use up the last of my magic. As best as she was able to translate into regular words, that be similar to comitting suicide. I wouldn't -technically- be dead, but I would certain by in no position to move, think, or do anything else until my body regenerated a bit. That would take... perhaps an hour for me to get back on my feet. It logically followed that if this happened in the middle of a battle, I was screwed like an old lightbulb.

 

All of this practicing had made my own energy deposit take a sharp down-ward turn, which Twilight had only become aware of when it reached near critical levels the previous day. It was a little frightening to me, knowing how close I had come to death and not been any the wiser at the time. Fluttershy, as things turned out, had a decent sized wild streak hidden under her normal day to day mentality. So when I'd unknowingly come so close to dying, she'd taken matter into her own hands (hoofs?). This equated to forcing me to stay in one spot and letting no one else but her near until I'd recovered enough. Having witnessed it, I understand both the pro's and the con's of that particular plan, which had come crashing down rather unexpectedly. I'd been bound to the bed by a combination of a paralysis potion (Lord only knows where she got it) and touching a series of nerves on my body, causing the brain's signals to be ignored/not recieved for a while. How exactly I had been able to over-come this was somewhat of a mystery to both me and most everyone else present. Pinkie Pie, of course, and suprisingly Rainbow Dash seemed rather adament that I had succeeded through sheer force of will. Without much else to go on, I took their word for it.

 

A good quarter of the day was needed for all of that to be ironed out. As my next match was to be tomorrow, that didn't leave us with as much time as we would have liked to continue preparing. After some discussion (though not much in all honesty), It was voted that I should take the rest of the day off and (try) to relax. Applejack, much as I had expected, was in need of this as well. She'd struck me as the kind of person that didn't know when to stop working for their own good. So the other five shoved us out the door and told us to go have some fun before shutting it in our faces.

 

"I... guess we ought to go 'en go get somethin' to eat... right?" She mumbled, her normal stoic composure faltering for a moment. "See'in as you're all tuckered out 'en stuff from all that work." This seemed like as good of an idea as any other, so we meandered off to somewhere that served food that we'd both find acceptable. I'd always been a voracious carnivore after turning into a teenager/psychotic emotionally undecided hypocrite. This hadn't really changed since I'd met the Six mares, though I had become rather self concious about it. Horses are, of course, herbivores. That they didn't eat meat had been carried over to the Six of them. Applejack and Fluttershy in particular seemed to have many friends among species which I had consumed large quantities of, which they spoke of often.

 

Thus, this made eating a rather awkard affair for both me and them, one of the few things that was a matter of contention between us. Every time I passed by a juicy steak on the grill or a vat of chicken being fried, I was drawn like a magnet. This, rather understandably, made the Six of them -very- uncomfortable, as if I would turn around and chomp on one of their legs or something. By a series of hints and not so subtle pushing, they would end up steering me away at the first moment possible. Thankfully such things as bread (which they had back home) and cheese (which they had no idea where it had come from and how it was made) didn't cause any problems, else I might have gone nuts. Speaking of which, I'd probably eaten more nuts in the previous week than I had in years of my normal life. All of that ended up in the two of us sitting in a 'Coffee Cafe'.

 

Applejack seemed very interested in coffee related products. Of all the things that the Six of them weren't previously aware of, coffee seemed to be the thing she desired to have most. As much as I could gather, it would be very helpful to her to have a mug of coffee to help wake up in the morning and work late hours. I'd used it in much the same way on the few and far between times I had drank it, so this made perfect sense. What didn't make sense was the near obsession which she quickly acquired with all the variations. Gourmet coffee is simply one of those things which doesn't fit right in my head. Why in the world would people put so much time and effort into brewing a multitude of obscure varieties of the same thing? After some considerable time and careful persuasion, I was able to convince her to not order everything on the menu to taste test all of it.

 

This being said, she still had three different mugs in front of her when we sat down. As an inevitable consequence, she was -much- more chipper and nervy than she usually acted. Oddly enough, she was also more open with her thoughts than she normally was as well. "Y'know, I don't get why we have to go and do all this stupid bucking fighting," she commented sourly. "Sure, it's sort of fun to watch, but losing your whole world if you lose a match? That's just plain crazy talk. I mean, they didn't even ask us! They just bucking plucked us all out of our lives 'en dropped us 'en here like a buch'a rats." I let her go on about this about this for a little while, during which she somehow drained all three of her servings despite hardly pausing to breath. Eventually I reached over and placed my hand on her neck, palm just below where her jaw line curved into her throat. She continued on for a word or two then trailed off into silence, staring at me and blushing redder than a Red Delicious apple. I moved my hand up and pushed her hair back a little bit so that I could see her eyes better and patted her on the head.

 

She didn't say anything for a while, staring into the dregs of the nearest mug for close to ten minutes straight while staying red as could be. Maybe she was shy when it came to physical contact? I'd once had a co-worker that became frazzled even when someone's shoulder brushed against her's. After the long pause she glanced back up at me from under the tip of her hat. "Uh... thank'yeh...," she whispered almost inaudibly. "I was... goin' on a lil' bit much instead 'ah thinkin' about how to make things better huh? Well... I'm glad... that..." She never finished that thought, trailing off again into silence.

 

Now, you'll probably think I'm pretty stupid for this next bit. Despite being a fan of history: knights, sailors, and (most importantly) cowboys, I'd forgotten one particular piece of cowboy etiquette. This was a fairly straightforward rule: You never messed with a cowboy/girl's hat. I, in my ignorance, decided it would be a good idea to stand up, take Applejack's hat, and make a run for it. She didn't really figure out what was going on until I was five meters away and sprinting as fast as I could. I figured that it would help break her sombre mood and be some good fun. Little did I know that I was dead wrong. To my own credit (not bragging because she could outstrip my within moments at a dead run) I managed to keep ahead of her and uncaught for a full five minutes. I'd turned into something that looked like a residential neighborhood park.

 

Like a bullet out of the barrel, she shot out of the bushes and smashed into me with all the force of an anvil to my gut. I was sent sprawling in the grass, with her on top of me and holding me down. I was a little out of breath, as was she. But she seemed raring to go and fight, whereas I was disturbed by the raging glare I was getting. We stayed like this for a moment or two. I suppose that the shock and fear in my eyes caused her to realize that I hadn't known or meant any harm, because she swallowed her irritation after some deep calming breaths. This left the two of us somewhat awkardly positioned, with me pinned down by her on the grass.

 

On the spur of the moment, I cracked a wry smile with a glance at her hooves pressing my chest into the dirt. She paused again, uncertain, before finally giving in to whatever her fancy happened to be. This meant her legs buckled under her, ending up with her laying on my chest. "Why is it you?" she said in a mournful tone. I hand't a clue as to what that meant, a good bit of my brain still in safety mode, though it opened up a little more with each day. We remained like that for a long while, saying nothing and trying to not break the calm moment. Eventually I placed her hat back on top of her head, no worse for wear than when I'd taken it. She smiled at me appreciatively, after which we both got up and headed back to our quarters.

Edited September 15, 2013 by Higurashi

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 7

I awoke later that night with an ache in my thighs and a crimp in my back. Glancing down the bed, I was able to see that Fluttershy wasn't there as she had been so often. It seemed that she was backing off a bit after the earlier incident. That was probably a good thing, though I did find that it gave me a familiar pang in my chest. Life constantly moving forward had not always sat well with me in the past. There are many moments that I wanted (and still do) to keep close to my chest and remain immersed in. Some part of me recognized that change could be for the better, but more often than not I found myself longing for what had already gone by. This time around, I missed the familiar warmth and feeling of contentment that arises when you are sleeping with someone else. For the first time it occured to me that it would be considered... peculiar by my human peers, that I would miss having a sentient pegasus invade my bedsheets at odd hours of the night. I'd known a few people that would have thought far worse things, but I made it a rule in my personal life to try not to associate with bigots, lest I become one myself.

 

Finding that my mind wasn't in any mood to lay back down and go to sleep, I slipped out from under the covers into the crisp air. The temperature must have gone down since I went to sleep, as goosebumps immeadiately spread across my skin, setting my hairs on end. In fact, it was positively chilly in my room. I doubted that any of the six mares would have pulled a prank like this on me, so something else was likely going on. With a sigh I padded over to my wardrobe and pulled out some lazy-wear, sweat pants and a t-shirt. After a moment I pulled some socks on as well, due to my toes feeling cold. Thus attired, I opened the door to my room and walked down the hallway, sliding an open window down to close off the night's chill. That's propably what had caused the temperature to grow colder. After this I continued down the hallway into the living room and plopped down into my favorite arm-chair, which had a depression in it from where I had sat for years.

 

With a yawn pushing out through my teeth, I reached over, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television. Some infomercial flickered onto the screen, having to do with 'removing ghosts' or so forth. I'd started watching just as the add was ending, flashing the logo and price across my eyes. I'm pretty sure it was $69.69. Despite having already closed the open window, I still felt like it was getting colder, so I pulled a heavy blanket over myself from the couch. Ugh, the thing felt like it was made of lead and weighed down my chest as the same. The infomercial ended and a sit-com rolled into view. I'd never been particualrly fond of those kind of shows, but I didn't feel like changing the channel. So I sat there for a couple of minutes while two bovine looking guys were having a mildly funny argument over who had eaten the other's sandwich, with both having looked exactly the same.

 

Some that had been wriggling around in my mind for a little bit finally found something to latch onto, what the sandwiches were made out of. It'd been looking for something to anchor to so that it could build itself up and actually come to my attentuon. Those sandwiches... they weren't like anything I'd ever eaten, or considered edible. The bread was pretty normal, but the rest was a mixture of raw grains, leaves, berries, and what appeared to be... thorns? I knew that some health fanatics ate insane things to stay healthy... but these sandwiches looked lethal to humans. Wait... lethal to humans? I took another long look at the two agruing guys, squinting to clear some of the liquid fog from my pupils. Those... those two weren't humans at all. They were literally bulls! Like... oxen! My vision seemed to flicker back and forth, finally settling on the proper resolution and focus.

 

Previously, I'd been able to vaguely make out what the two had been saying, but now it was just a lot of grunts and bellows. That... wasn't right. How had I not noticed this. I tried to get up to take a closer look, but found that I was too heavy to stand. Or rather, the quilt I'd been using was too heavy. The more I looked at it, the more it began to look like chains and locks. The hell? That chill that seemed to be permeating the room... it wasn't the physical temperature. It was my own body desperately trying to tell me that something was -wrong-. My hair was standing up from fear, not the cold. What's more, my surroundings were definitely not what should be there.

 

I'd dressed from my personel wardrobe, closed a window in a compound with only solid walls, was sitting in a chair that I'd owned for years, and watching a T.V. I hadn't seen in a week and a half. That all led me to believe that I was back in my own apartment, though how I had gotten here was something that I couldn't remember. The chains though... those were not an illusion as the quilt and T.V. had been. Those were very real, and were chafing against my bare chest. The television randomly shut back off and all was silent for a full two minutes. I wondered if I could bust my bindings as I had with Fluttershy, but it seemed that I could not summon whatever power I had used at that time. After the silence I could faintly hear the pad of footsteps coming up from behind the chair where I could not see. A sickly and pale hand reached around from behind me and pulled my hair, forcing me to look down. My stomach curdled as I felt something sharp make a small prick where the back of my head met my neck. I could hear the knife rising, the intake of breath as whomever it was prepared to stab down, only to be knocked silly as something went -boom- somewhere nearby.

 

I was still chained to the chair, though it was about ten feet away from its original position, on its side, and in total shambles. Damn! I'd really liked that chair, as it had been a gift from... well... you don't need to know whom it was from, only that its loss greatly saddened me. A couple more explosions of some type went off where I could not see, which was most everywhere due to my face being forced against the floor due to my positioning. Then the chains went slack and I was hoisted into the air by a reassuringly familiar non-physical force. The next few seconds were a blur of motion. As best as I can summarize, I was thrown somewhat uncerimoniosly through a magic portal, being able to make out what looked like a cloaked figure screeching while raising some kind of weapon, before it snapped closed behind me.

 

There are only so many ways to describe how much something can hurt, so words fail to give the ache I was feeling due justice. Managing to roll back over onto my back only brought on more of the same, though I was able to see that I was back in my Colosseum quarters. It was an improvement to my previous situation, though only a passing one by my reckoning. Another portal opened up, letting one of the mares jump through. I think it might have been either Fluttershy or Applejack. Honestly, I was so delirious from pain that I couldn't make anything out with true certaintiy. Whomever it was, I felt them trot over to me, a few of what I think were tears dropping from their eyes onto my faces. "I... was so afraid that we'd lost you for a second," a voice I couldn't indentify whispered to me. I'd probably have responded with something suitably non-sensical, not being able to see properly, much less speak. But my own intentions were shoved to the back of the metaphorical cupboard, when the head above me lowered and I was kissed full on the mouth. The new sensation in my head impacted against the pain like an avalanche intercepting a landslide. "I'm sorry... that was probably selfish but I needed just one to... keep going on. Now please, go to sleep." I, not being in any shape to argue, reluctantly (as in I didn't have any say in the matter) dropped back into the comforting black of unconciousness.

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 8

A low whine floated into my senses, just at the edge of hearing. It seemed to rise and fall in a slow but steady rythmn, such as how one breathes when sleeping. With each arc upwards, it grew a little louder. As well, each decline seemed to become fainter than the one before it. Soon it came to sound very much like the rise had become a crescendo; the whine replaced with the mournful ear blasting tone of a train whistle. In contrast, the depths of silence that followed flowed in what felt like a silken wave over my mind, tickling me with a mischevious and slippery aura. Other noises that I could not readily identify began to flow in from different angles, much like different colors of paint spilling onto a canvas of their own accord. Some of these mixed together to form new wholes, others stayed aloof and seperate. Something much like a painting began to swirl into shape in my mind's eye, rough shapes taking form. Each new connection and distinction added a little more detail until the image was so exact that you could split hairs with the razor lines. It hurt my mind to look at it, in its severity. Not only was the image full of keen angles, it also revealed to me a dangerous truth which made my soul cry in shock. Then, just as I reached out to grab it and make sense of it, it shattered into a thousand fragments.

 

It felt like some of these shards pierced my flesh, because all at once I began to experience very focused pain on several points over my body. What felt like white hot brands were being pressed into my temples, brands and nails being forced against my chest and throat. Somehow, the worst of all of these was my hands. They felt like molten iron had been pulled together in an orb, only to encase both of them. I had experienced much pain in a short amount of time. Every time I though that surely nothing could be worse than what I was currently experiencing. But this... something in the very pit of my gut was screaming wretchedly, forcing all of the air from my longs. I have never heard such a horrible and miserable noise before and I have not since, nor do I ever wish to. It had the quality of the worst of death wails, the most mournful of last sighs, and the unwavering screech of pain drawn out for what seemed to be an eternity. That such a sound would come from my own body, that my throat was capable of such things, frightens me still.

 

My eyes snapped open, instantly blinded by harsh white glare and glinting surfaces. I found that, indeed, I was actually making the forsaken racket that I had originally perceived. The pain was still there too, pushing my voices far past limits which were meant to be the maximum ranged of the human vocal cord. Though it was drowned out by the over-whelming agony and grief, I could feel the barest touch of how my voice literally shook the air. My wrists and ankles were bound to four corners of some table, keeping them firmly in place. I think that some number of other restraints had been placed upon me, but a great many of them were snapping and breaking under in-human pressure as my spine arched and forced my torso up. I heard glass or crystal of some kind crack then shatter as the vibration waves dashed it to pieces. Something, somewhere, was falling over or crashing to the floor. A number of voices were yelling, most of which were hopelessly muffled by my own. Something like four or five big needles plunged into my flesh, no doubt some kind of sedative. But my racing heart burned the drugs away like a blue flame to so many leaves. Then something big pierced my spine where it met my skull and blessed relief blocked out the pain.

 

I hung there in the air for a moment, able to hear what sounded like my bones cracking and groaning from strain as my wail cut off with a whimper. Then I collapsed back to whatever I had been bound to like a dropped bag of bricks. I couldn't feel it, but I could certainly see it. My throat and mouth seemed to have gotten stuck fully open when I screamed. I saw a hand carefully take ahold of my jaw and massage the muscles until it unclenched and fell back shut. It did the same for my neck, following which a face came into my range of vision. It looked oddly familiar, like someone I had seen picture of when I was a kid. However, I was not able to identify the face. A little bit of feeling returned to me, instantly followed by aching. Whatever they'd dosed me with had been strong, but my body was already fighting it off. Great job body. Lucky me, getting to feel a lot of pain again. I could vaguely tell that my ear drums, jaw muscles, and vocal cords were pretty wrecked. Before I was able to make out much more another big needle entered my veins and I was off to the now quite familiar land of completely dreamless sleep.

 

I woke up, expecting to be in my bed or a dream. Apparently that gag had exhausted itself, as I found I was still strapped to a friggin table. Rather, I was re-strapped to the same table, as I had broken a good number of the original surgical belts. For once I was in full possession of my faculties, though still unable to move. At least I could hear, see, feel, make noise, smell, and taste. Almost every time I had come around to the land of the awoken lately, I hadn't been able to use at least one or some combination of those. I suppose I had been given permission to say something stupid once in a while and asked, "Can I get up from this table? These straps are really chafing my skin."

 

"If that is all you are worried about," a British sounding reply came. "Then you are recovering better than originally expected. I can't let you up -quite- yet I'm afraid. The injuries you suffered, both from others and yourself, made quite a mess of your already odd development. We've kept you under for... three days now I believe, in order to keep track of your progress." "Um," I grunted. "Would you mind telling me exactly how I was hurt? I wasn't exactly paying attention, with the mind breaking torture and all that." "Now now," he tutted. "Sarcasm will only get you less pain medication. But I will answer as best I can. You were stabbed by an incredibly sharp knife thirteen times, every one of which is in your torso region. You also endured a broken arm, both shins shattered, a lost ear, and mild to severe brain damage. We're having a hard time getting much detail on the last one. But that you can still talk is another fact that will lead us to the correct conclusion."

 

Brain damage? Great. So I could be paralyed, insane, or any number of things. I fell silent for a little bit, running a mental check list on my various body parts. Most of them -felt- completely fine, even the ear. So either medical care around here was far superior to human technology or I was simply too high on pain meds to tell the difference. "Ah, there we go," the voice quipped. "The last test is done processing. You, for the moment at least, have just been given a clean bill of health." The figure whom I'd been talking to finally stepped into vision, coming close to loosen the straps I was bound with. He was the same unrecognizable man whom I'd seen earlier. I still couldn't get a fix on his identity, but I was pretty sure it had been something about being a doctor, due to what he was currently occupied with. My initial urge was to get moving immediately when the straps came off. But, reminded of the earlier agony, I took it slowly and carefully. Even so, when I finally sat up I was dizzier than if I'd rode a twist-a-whirl for three times in a row.

 

"For having died, you are in quite good shape," the presumably British doctor said. Wait... I had died? "For how long was I... dead?" "Its a little hard to say. We were in such a rush. But I would say that for a good twenty minutes you were deader than a rock."  That... sort of confused me. I'd heard of people being revived after a few minutes... but twenty? That was nuts! Then again, somehow my arms and other wounds were fully healed by now, so I suppose it wasn't that much of a stretch. It could also account for the incredible torment earlier. Being pulled back from Death's clutches seemed like it -would- be painful, very. At the moment I was alone in the room with the man who had presumably saved my life. He was an odd kind of fellow, dressed in what looked like thrift store layaways rather than surgeon's scrubs. It didn't make much sense until I noticed a little baton like thing which he was fiddling with. It glowed from one end, looking like a tool... Oh... no friggin way. It wasn't -that- doctor right?

 

"Uhm, excuse me," I stuttered. "What... what is your name?" "Oh it doesn't really matter," he responded with a grin. "Call me the Doctor. Just, the Doctor."

 

((Note: I have absolutely no affiliation to the Doctor Who series other than an appreciation for it. I have no monetary intrests, or personal ones (other than fandom) in it or any of its various spin-offs, franchies, or anything else to do with it.))

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 9

"I can't say that I'm surprised," I said after giving a stare for longer than what would be considered polite. "My capacity to feel that has sort of been tucked away for my own safety, least so far as I can tell. Most people wouldn't be able to keep themselves sane in this kind of place, even if they ignored the majority of went on." The Doctor considered my hypothesis and shrugged his approval. I'd not really seen much of his shows or other media outlets, but I got the general idea that'd he'd been everywhere and seen just about everything in some manner. Though I suspected he defended his sanity by giving it up entirely, from what I had heard at least. Even so, he seemed like an amiable chap and who was more than willing to keep company with me.

 

"Well then," he concluded. "There seems to be no point in keeping you stuck here. Though I get the general idea that you aren't too keen on getting back in the ring, there's not much choice I'm afraid. Your next match is already at hand and I can't delay them for any longer. They wanted to throw you in while you were still out of it, but I managed to pull a couple of strings to extend your time limit until you came around. Now that you're awake and so forth, I'm sorry to say that I'll have to haul you over there. No hard feelings, I promise. They've been threatening not only you friends, but mine as well. So to keep both groups, it seems best to get you prepped and ready to roll, so to speak."

 

Even as he said this, he had me by the arm and was half-dragging, part marching me out the door and down the corridor. "Your kit will be in the outfitting room just off of the Arena. Only take what you absolutely need and get it equiped as soon as physically possible. Saw that trick you pulled on your first fight, so you shouldn't need to haul any weapons in of your own. That ought to speed things up a little so-" He continued to chatter on like a machine-gun, shooting off pointers and other advice right up until we got to the Arena proper. In the equipment room I selected a basica full body suit, which was made so that it detered most blades. It also had a lightweight anti-projectile vest, vambraces, and military boots. The last piece to go on was a full coverage helmet. Initially it was just a plain metal and padding, but the Doctor zapped it with his Sonic Screwdriver. By some means that I had no clue of, it managed to augment the helmet to project a head's up display on the corner of the hardened glass viewing panel, as well as provide cooling ventilation. I didn't question how it worked, but only thanked him for doing so.

 

He, rather predictably, left my company once I had stepped into the tunnel leading the the Arena floor. I had no doubt that he'd be watching with interest as I was likely beaten to death in a raher horrid fashion. Maybe he'd even bring me back a second time, just for the fun of it. As nice as he'd seemed, I couldn't shake the (probably correct) assumption that he had only his own goals in mind when interacting with me. If those happened to include my survival, that was fine and dandy. However, it was more than likely that he'd only help me as long as it was beneficial for him. Eventually I'd either have to fight him or one of his associates in all likelihood, which was bound to be one of the most difficult fights of them all.

 

Of course that was assuming that I actually managed to scrape out of this fight by the seat of my pants. I had no illusions about my chances. More than likely I was going to be killed with ease, condemning both my friend's world and my own to annihalation. It briefly occured to me that if any of the humans lost (which a few already had, as humans were the only combatants), that meant that by definition Earth was already doomed. There'd be time to contemplate it later, if I survived and wasn't knocked into unconciousness yet again. I could hear the roar of the crowd and see the glare growing as I advanced into the Ring for the second time. While earlier I had asserted that I could not be surprised, I found out that I was actually wrong.

 

I'd assumed from the get-go that the arena floor would be repaired after each match. This seemed to not be the case, from what I could see. The place looked absolutely wrecked multiple times over. It was easy to tell that a number of catastrophic combats had taken place here. It occured to me that there shouldn't have been time for that many matches to take place, as I would have at least been aware of their occurance. Whereas I had only seen two fights, my own and the one between the Cartoons and Super Villains. My brain's safety lock shut down this train of thought pretty quickly, in order to prevent brain milkshake syndrome. Even so, my best guess was that time didn't flow the same in this place like it did in the regular world. If my time was like a straight line, this place probably looked like a toddler's scribblings.

 

This being said, I was stepped around puddles of toxic goo, large craters, and the occasional pile of scrap metal in order to reach my designated starting position. It was then that I noticed that the total surface area of the arena floor was smaller. In my own combat, I'd barely been able to see my adversary on the other side. This time, they were close enough to watch in detail. Well, crap. My opponent, best as I could gather, was part of the Alien cadre. As had been the case with most of the other contestants I had seen, it was not an easiy stomached sight. I could make out the vague humanoid shape, but it was covered in a lot of chitin and tentacles. Some intuition in the back of my mind suggested that there was probably a woman under all of that, due to posture and proportion sizes. That didn't make me feel any better, it only soured my mood. I'd been taught as a kid to not hit girls and so forth by my dad. This definitely was quite further up the ladder than that.

 

As soon as I had reached the starting point, the match began with a blare of horns. It appeared that they'd been waiting on me. Good, let them wait until they withered and died for all I cared. In my first fight I'd been able to rely on my speed and agility. To be blunt, I was screwed in that area. The chitin woman moved with a speed and efficiency that is rightly associated bugs. It was disconcerting, watching her legs move quickly but still with a jerk-stop motion. Thankfullly I had enough mind to start moving at the buzzer as well. Drawing on what energy I could, I pulled a weapon from the air.

 

Yet again I was surprised, in a nasty way this time. I'd pulled out what looked rather similar to a child's squirt gun, about the same size as well. One can probably guess what my train of thought was, as it is far too rude to repeat here. Taking a look at what the woman was using, it seemed like I'd have to play keep-away this time around. She had a -lot- of large and razor sharp claws. That was in addition to the massive and long reaching suction tentacles that were already homing in on me. My feet took a moment to catch on to what I intended, getting me closer than I would have prefered. At the last second I managed to jump/skip out of the way, over a large blast crater. The tentacles punched into the ground where I'd been previously and ricocheted to change direct and come after me. Landing at a run, I barely managed to duck under the edge of their swipe.

 

Despite having only been fighting for less than a minute, I felt exhausted. That was odd. Just before the fight I'd felt chipper as a new spring squirrel, albeit a surly one. I'd only drawn on my power one time and that had only produced a squirt gun so... Oh. Duh. The squirt gun was probably a powerful weapon of some sort, like the Cricket from the Men in Black movie. Doing an admittedly poor combat roll, I brought up my hands, aimed, and pulled the trigger. Turns out that it was just a friggin squirt gun. It splattered a bit of fluid on her chest as she leaped over the crater to get close. I was in no position to get away. So I was basically screwed. 'Great.' I thought. 'All of that pain and effort and now I was going to be speared like a-'

 

That's when the squirt gun's purpose revealed itself. It was... essentially a kind of homing beacon. I guess the fluid put off some kind of signal or smell when it hit something. Apparently that attracted what now blocked out my vision of impending death with a wall of teeth and flesh. What the hell? After a second of miscomprehension, I staggered to my feet and backed up. Though it was still blocked my view of most everything in front of me, I could make out the creature. The best comparison would be the giant sandworms from Star Wars. It was huge, long, and had a ton of teeth in a massive jaw on the front. That was about it, though there sure was a lot of it. It'd come out of the ground right under the bug woman's legs, apparently swallowing her whole. Its body was still going up, more of it coming out of the ground with every moment. Then it reached the maximum height of its upward arc, and turned down. Its head punched into the ground and burrowed down, even while more of it was still coming out of the entry hole. After a couple of seconds the tail end popped out and it slithered back into the earth to where-ever it had come from.

 

Once again the crowd was stunned into silence. I couldn't really believe it myself, so I had that in common with them for now. After a long second of silence I walked over to the edge of the exit hole and looked down into the bottomless blackness below. Only now did the spectators begin to murmur. For the first time, the judged seemed just as stunned as the rest of us. Just as I turned around to walk away, I heard a scuttling noise, which was followed by a claw latching around my ankle. It would have crushed my bones without the reinforced boot, but it still was painful. I staggered forward, dragging out what was holding me in the process.

 

Most of the bug woman's chitin and other mutations had been serrated to shreds or dissolved with acid, presumably from the creature's mouth and stomache. One leg (its left) was entirely gone and only two arms the original eight were left attached. One was clamped around my ankle. The other ended in a long jagged length of shattered bone. Dragging me towards her, her intent seamed to be to spear me like a fish. As I got closer I could make out what she looked like under all of the mess. If she hadn't been covered in bug parts and partly dissolved by acid, she would have been beautiful. Her eyes, now revealed, showed an incredible sadness. I regretted it, but I reached up, pulled, and swang. An axe materialized in my hand, and the end chopped straight through the arm holding me. The woman fell backwards, giving a pitiful wail as she dropped into the dark abyss. After a couple of seconds, the victory klaxon sounded and I was ushered back into the residential sector. All I could think about was the look of terror, regret, and utter hopelessness on that woman's face as she fell.

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 10

Having survived my second bout in the Arena proper, I probably should have felt at the very least relieved. However, all that I permitted myself was a short moment of reflection. For there is a certain kind of situation where if one gives the slightest, all will be lost. So I couldn't let myself relax, for fear of failure. That being said, I was still able to let my mind wander as I was escorted back to my quarters. The ones escorting me were of a bovine disposition, in that they were basically bi-pedal oxen with some scraps of clothing put on. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to call them kin of the Minotaur. Though, that would be unfair to the mythological creature, as these four dunder-heads were by far the ugliest living beings I had ever seen. (It is not that they were grotesque to look at, rather it was that I could see rather clearly that an effort had been made to make them look strong and brave, but only succeded in producing muscle and no brains.)

 

In the typical thick-headed nature of such people, they jawwed and cackled between themselves about the fight despite the fact that the survivor of the bout was walking right beside them. One was roughly accusing me of cheating (though it was adressed to one of the other idiots), on the basis that he had lost a bet that was placed on a predicition of my failure. He'd lost an arm and a leg (monetarily) when I won. Most everyone had expected me to lose it seemed. There was also a general consensus that I would have been a messy paste on the ground if not for the worm creature. Though they were stupid in the extreme, I was inclined to agree on this one point. Nonetheless, I held my tongue lest the one who had lost the bet remember that the reason he had done so was walking in front of him.

 

After a minute or so of walking I finally figured out that they had actually forgotten that they were supposed to escort me (even with me being right there). So at the next junction I slipped from between them and waited while they walked away, rough-housing as they did so. I didn't have a clue where I was, nor how I was supposed to get where I wanted to be. (It must be mentioned that I did indeed desperately want to be home, but that had been filed away until such a time as it would actually be feasible.) Thus I carefully began to examine the various postings along the halls which dictated where certain areas were from here. As best as I could guess, the bovine morons had taken me a considerable distance from anywhere I knew. One might think I could simply stop and ask for directions, but my ever present forethought voiced that anyone I met was likely to try and kill me.

 

By some act of fortune or astounding luck I managed to make my way back a little on the path I had been led on, though it was winding and seemingly without direction. This eventually brought me back onto one of the main concourses, wherefrom my journey wouldn't have been too long. Unfortunately for me (as always seemed to be the case), my path was blocked by someone I didn't want to see. This time it was one of the huge alien bug creatures, whose champion I had killed not an hour before. We were at a sort of impasse, so much as a leaf is with a stone wall. The description of the following encounter would be rather wearisome to recount, as it involved a lot of dodging, running, and hiding. Needless to say, eventually I escaped and eventually arrived back at my quarters, where I stripped to my skin and went to sleep without much further ado.

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 11

Dreams, as I had already begun to realize before now, were important. Though it might seem initially obvious that this was so to many people, the reason why it was so is something much harder to grasp. Some say that dreams are the mind processing the experiences of our life into memories. Others believe it to be the ability of the soul to grasp imagination and make things possible which could never happen in our daily lives. There are even those that think it is a mystical, supernatural even, phenomena which can link minds while we sleep, creating whole new realities with each passing moment. As I slept, I came to realize that each of these concepts were partially but not wholly true, as such things often are. This is because one shouldn't put a set border on one's dreams. They can be any of the above, if given the right opportunity. A dream can just as easily be a desired goal as an alternate dimension.

 

I knew this and found at the same time that I was free (for the moment) from the danger of insanity. So many occurrences and objects I had seen recently defied explanation to my mind, or threatened to break it if an answer was supplied. The list of information I had to quarantine in order to simply survive grew longer by order of magnitude. My sleep had, until this point, been either too deep or to restless to dream normally. But fate seemed to have tired of its torturing for the day and let my mind cast itself adrift. I'm thankful to say that I was indeed able to finally reconcile many of the dangers which threatened to break me. There were still quite a few that resisted any attempt to solve their complications; though I was simply relieved to get some of the burden off my shoulders. I could still feel them crawling and slithering around the edge of my awareness, but it didn't matter as much as it used to. I could finally say No.

 

No... That word echoed across my mind like a single, powerful, earthshaking drumbeat. The amount of frustration I'd been saddled with over my own inability to make choices was incredible to behold. Just to be able to even -think- that single syllable held more importance to me than anything else, even my own life. Because eventually a caged animal will do one of two things, -it- will break, or it will break free. My elation at this shackle being removed from me made me giggle. Then I chuckled. Finally, I began to laugh. It simply kept growing, until I shook so hard that my bones hurt. No! I didn't -have- to stop! I could go on as long as I wanted here in my dreams. No restrictions, no expectations, and definitely no consequences. I was happy! So happy I could die and grin to my last breath. I could see the barriers breaking down in my mind, toppling one by one.

 

I didn't have to relegate the things that didn't make sense to the edge of my brain. I could just accept them, embrace them! No more struggling against fate or right and wrong. I'd simple let it all in and finally be at peace. So I did. I rose from my prone position and raised my fist. The connection will my own barriers hurt, something I hadn't entirely anticipated. But it didn't matter that it did, so I let it be. I went onwards, smashing through all of the things in my head which I hated, couldn't understand, or wouldn't accept. I could feel them trying to resist being absorbed. They fought back like demons to try and retain their freedom. However, one by one they fell to my blows. My heart thundered in my chest, driving me ever onward to further efforts. Then, inexplicably, what I saw changed.

 

A force just as great as my own will pushed back and sent me flying. Getting to me feet, I looked around wildly for what had hit me. There were wrecked market stalls all around me, some of which were so wrecked that you couldn't tell what they'd been. Cracks ran all over the floor like a messy spider's web, extending in random directions. A support column crumpled nearby, blowing dust against my face. I went to swat at it, as it irritated me, but my hand was caught against something. One quick glance told me that it was another of the humans who'd been sentenced to this hell... but that didn't fit in my mind. I'd just been breaking down my own inhibitions... hadn't I? The other guy's grasp tightened around my wrist, but he didn't say anything. If I had to guess, he'd been from the genre of pro-fighters and Mortal Kombat characters. Now that I thought of it, I'd almost killed this same guy during my first Arena match.

 

So what was he doing here? What was he looking at anyways? I turned my eyes in the direction he was looking and flinched. Much as I had begun to dread, there was carnage all around us. A quick estimate told me that there were at least a couple hundred bodies, many of which seemed to be trying to run away. Had... did I do that? But that was... impossible. Or was it? My mind had shut down again, possibly for good this time. A section of ceiling (which was the floor for the level above us) collapsed and sent more dust into the air. As the pounding of blood in my ears began to subside, I was able to hear the chaos around me. There were so many things going on, alarms, yelling, screaming, moaning, crashing, and a multitude of other noises. As more of my senses came online, the more sick I began to feel. Everything was telling me that I'd just done something truly monstrous. Yet... some part of me really didn't care. It wanted to crush everything I saw and all that had to do with this place into oblivion.

 

There was... oh thank whatever power that was, I could still tell it No, at least for now. I'm not sure what I'd have done if that newly acquired freedom had vanished. What I -did- do was stand up. I'd been crouching. Coming to my feet revealed the unpleasent but expected visage of some poor soul that I'd just killed. The blood and other unspeakable materials coated both of my arms, as well as being splattered across the rest of my body. The Fighter, apparently satisfied that I was done, let go. Well... then he hit me, hard. It was only one punch, but it got his message across better than any beating would have. I went flying and slammed into an ornamental fountain, having to wretch water from my lungs as I got up again. My head felt like jelly from the hit. Voices were coming closer, as did the yelling.

 

Around from a corner came an army of goons and other minions of the Movie Man. To my surprise, the big performer himself was in their midst. He was stunned, simple as that. I'd surprised him plenty, but this seemed to go beyond his ability to handle. His mouth, which was a combination of a beak, teeth, and human lips opened and closed soundlessly for a good minute. The FIghter and I stood there, waiting for him to say something. The goons, for their part, didn't move an inch after they saw the wreckage. "Y-You...," Movie Man finally stuttered. "You just... killed all... but... why? How? You couldn't have just... But you did! You just demolished... a full five eighths of the remaining contestants, their coaches, their teams, the support staff... -all- of them! This... this... THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! I'll have you head for this! Destroying your pathetic planet would be far too merciful, I'll make -all- of you wretches pay for this.... this INSULT!"

 

A slow clap interrupted what would have been a raging tantrum of someone who is used to controlling everything, but now controlled next to nothing. All eyes were instantly on the applauder, whom was none other than Ares/Mars himselves. As they were previously described, there were both of them standing there at the same time, yet only one of them. For once I didn't taste copper. That couldn't be a good thing. The god walked forward through the gore and chaos, seeming to pass through it as if it wasn't there. "Nicely done," he said. In an instant he was next to me, clapping me on the shoulder. I could still see him advancing towards me, but he was also right next to me. "I know that you didn't really -intend- to slaughter all those people, but well done nonetheless. That was the best fight I've seen in years! The arena matches can't even hold a candle to the sheer madness of what you did! You have my respect, which needless to say isn't something I often give."

 

"I know that this spoils this little... err.. 'tournament' of yours," he/they said as he/they looked at the Movie Man. "But you can't go and do all that you want to this time. As entertaining as it would be to watch you rampage, you've got to stick to our agreement. Earth is -mine-, which means if you destroy it, I destroy you. Capiche?" Well, that explained the conundrum of what would happen to Earth. It would be safe so long as the God of War wanted it to be. Frankly, that wasn't that comforting. The Movie man fumed at this, but eventually sighed in resignation. "Either way," he replied. "Something has to be done about this. With so many contestants dead, a new system will have to be worked out. I'll have to-"

 

Ares/Mars raised his/their hand to silence him. "No, I'll handle this. It isn't really your fault that this happened. It isn't mine either, but I'll fix it anyways. Since the rankings are pretty much bound, shot, and buried, we'll just do something new. No more beating around the bush. We'll have everyone that's left alive fight. All together, all at the same time. To the last man standing."

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 12

There are not words for what I was feeling. The closest I can get is a dim feeling of elation, like one feels when they see the end drawing near. It doesn't particularly matter if the ending is good or bad, just that it'll finally be over. As determined as I was to survive this hell, I wouldn't have minded death all that much. However, one wish over-rode both those desires and all other intentions. I wanted to end this hell. So long as this Arena, Ares/Mars, and the Movieman were destroyed, I'd be satiated. Call it wrath or revenge if you so wish, but at that moment it was more important to me than anything else. What was more, right then something deep inside of myself told me that I'd have to wade through all the other contestants to achieve that goal.

 

It also occured to me that I might very well have to destroy my friends and team-mates as well. That, in its own way, hurt just as much as any of the beatings I had endured. Sure, I'd been fighting for my own survival, but a large part of myself had been given to making sure that they and their world survived. This came to me for one simple reason: those that I wanted to die would use anything and everything in order to stop me. The Movie Man and Ares/Mars were simply that kind of being. Both were eternal in their own way and death would be inconcievable to their minds. More than that, it would be unacceptable.

 

After I returned to my quarters yet again, I didn't pay much attention to the outside world. All of my mind was focused on planning. Through various means, I gathered every last bit of information available on my hosts. There was precious little to be had that was more than conjecture and guessing. The more I learned, the more apparent it became that I'd simply have to give a blind shot in the dark with my best effort. Virtually nothing was known about either of my targets, other than what they let other people know. It was obvious that both were immensely powerful. All the worse, I came across tales of others who has tried to kill the Gods previously. Each and every story told of unspeakable destruction and, in the end, failure.

[HigurSan 195]

((It's been a few months since I last posted an update. For any that have happened to follow or read this story thus far, I thank you and would like to assure you that it will continue to go on into the forseeable future. I've not lost my love for this plot or the characters involved. However (as is my tendency) I was distracted by other media and life events. As repayment, I'll try to make this installement a long one. For future editing, I will likely add the current chapter twelve onto either the chapter preceding it, or this newest edition.))

 

Chapter 13

Of all the questions I asked myself in the following days, the most common would be: How do you kill a God? While some people (even myself at one time in my life) would have been more pre-occupied with whether gods could be killed at all; I did not have the luxury of doubting the possibility. In my life as a (somewhat) regular human being I've found that there are truly very few dead ends. Almost every situation has an alternate route or loophole. It is only a manner of being intuitive or observant enough to find it, then resourceful or strong enough to sieze the opportunity. 'Almost' is the most significant word in the previous assertion. Because at some point, somewhere, there is an end point for everything.

 

For instance, people often say that no one can escape death. This statement in of itself is solid, but begins to corrode under the influence of context. This is because of the nature of reality, with its duality of endless diversity but concrete finishes. There are some people that I've known that avoided death at all turns, swerving out of the way always just at the right moment. Though undoubtably these people will eventually die, how long that will be entirely depends on whether eventually is the same as eternity. But that is a tangent. For now it is suffice to say that in all things, there is a beginning and an end. The odd part, is that there is an infinitie amount of possibility between those two points.

 

The end that was now staring me in the face was that I was going to fail. At the very least, it appeared that way. This did not at all dissuade me from continuing in my efforts. In fact it gave me confidence. For up until this point the tunnel had been a long and dark one. Now the light at the end glimmered on the horizon. Whether it was a warm light or a harsh one remained to be seen. It may very well be that just beyond the finish line was a pit of poisoned spikes. I could not stop, nor could I see the future. So all I could do was forge ahead and do my damn well best to forge the ending into one that suited me. What suited me was for the two/three deplorable entities known as Mars/Ares and the Movie Man to die and forever end this madness.

 

Though perhaps I've iterated on why this had to be before, it feels suitable to repeat it concisely here. These two/three gods were a threat, not only to me, but to my companions, their world, my world, all other worlds, and even the very things that they represented. As despicable as it is to think of it, war and conflict are necessary. They are inherent parts of my and your reality. Without them it is no longer reality, but only a dream. Mars/Ares had perverted war, if such a phrasing is appropriate. War, as much as it is needed, needs to be horrifying, terrible, and brutal. Neat and orderly warfare is a paradox and not even a good one. War is Chaos and Chaos is on the polar opposite of Order. Putting the two together can and will only ever breed a bastard child and doom us all. This, though it may not have seemed like it, was what Mars/Ares had done. He'd/they'd produced a monster child, one that could be called 'Gladitorial Combat'.

 

The Movie Man, in much the same way, had bastardized his own nature. Media at it simplest form is something outside of someone's own body that they find pleasure, happiness, or fufillment in. Thus it follows that for something to be media, someone has to enjoy it. But in this case, no one enjoyed what the Movie Man had wrought. I'd begun to suspect that not even he found joy in what he was doing. Quite possibly he didn't even know -why- he was doing it, though somehow I doubted that there'd been a reason for all of this, though in all likelihood it'd have been an unsuitable one.

 

To sum that up: The Gods needed to die because they threatened everything. Left unchallenged they seemed to be heading down the path to total destruction, where all things in reality came to the incorrect end. Reality, though it is not its own sentient entity in a literal sense, tended to move in a way that sorted such things out. I didn't bother to assume that I would be the instrument for this correction. It would only have distracted me. Thus as the final days until the Free-for-All battle slipped past, I was occupied completely with abstract thinking which ironically would have very physical results. If my conclusions were wrong, reality was probably done for. Maybe some random hero would pop out of thin air, but for now I seemed to be the best/last man standing for the job.

 

After all that deep and (sort of) meaningful exposition, any readers will likely have begun to wonder where my companions were. To be truthful and (ashamedly) honest, I did not have the slightest clue. My mind was so occupied with what was to come, that I didn't pay any attention at all to the present. In fact the first time I noticed my team mates in five days was when they man-handled to a chair and forced me to eat and drink. This managed to draw my mind (mostly) back into the present. Only a few moments were necessary to become sure that there were -extremely- worried, either about me or the upcoming battle (maybe both). So after finally convincing them that they didn't need to magically shove basic nutrients down my throat I ate and did my best to pay attention to them.

 

Yet again recent events definitely seemed to have occured a long time in the past. It'd only been a week since I'd died and been brought back to life, though it could have passed for a year in my perception. Though some bits were a bit foggy, I distinctly remembered being kissed before dying. It might well have been my first. Needless to say that my mind was far too busy to be able to mull over that much, but there was enough space for me to notice it and wonder just who it'd been. More than likely it'd been female, though I didn't have the clearest recollection of the voice's tone. Every voice could just as easily have matched as the next to me. My companions, though I didn't spend any time actively observing them, didn't give off any outward signs. So it'd likely be a mystery that was never solved.

 

Thus far I'd had some deep personal interaction with five of the six of them. The Pink with my initial selection, Fluttershy in resting together, Rainbow Dash in physical Training, Twilight Sparkle in magical practice, and Apple Jack with our recreational afternoon. Throughout my time in the Arena, never once had Rarity ever spoken more than was absolutely necesarry to me. (Sometimes it seemed that she even neglected to speak when it -was- needed.) Her expression of mild disdain had remained as constant as the emptiness of space inbetween galaxies. Though I'd not made any direct attempts to approach her about it, I'd spoken off hand to her five friends about it. None of them seemed to notice what I was describing. Fate, as it always did, had simply been holding a card up its sleeve. Now it put it down face up on the betting table and it was undeniably a Queen of Hearts. This I saw quite clearly as she walked into my room with a determined look on her face and locked me and her inside.

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 14

"Rarity?" I murmured, unsure of what her intentions were. "Is there something that you need from me?" "Well... yes," she replied, casting her eyes to one side and away from me. "I... well I needed... to... talk to you! Yes, that's what it was." There must have been a degree of doubt in my eyes, as she did her best to reinforce her declared intentions. "Because you see... The two of us, you and I, we've not.... been around each other terribly much. It would be imprudent, neigh, negligent of me to ignore the one who holds my world's fate in his hands." This being said, she proceeded to saunter over to a chair and drape herself upon it. Her manner feintly reminded me of a cat's; distant and only mildly tolerant of the world around her. Twilight and the others had told me that she was truly a wonderful person once she let you in. Even if this was so, I doubted that she would keep me always at an arm's length no matter what happened.

 

Thus I was yet again reminded by the universe that it could and always would surprise me. This came in the sweeping motion her gaze made as it swung over me from foot to head. If a material comparison was to be made, it was like being pulled gently through the softest bed sheets, or savoring the most aged of wines. In a word, it was... epicurean, the most magnified experience of pure hedonic desire one could ever feel in so short a time. Then she rolled her eyes over to the rest of my quarters, regarding them with faint distaste. I nearly gagged on the spot.

 

From the day I was born, I'd not known true want. My parents, while never what could be called affluent (aka filthy rich) had been well to do, especially in comparison to most of the world's destitute and hungry. There had not been one day I'd ever gone without food, with the exception of my own stupidity. If I'd ever wanted it, more than likely it'd been there for me. At the time it'd made me regrettably vain and unconcerned with reality. Only later (as often happens) did I finally get it through my thick head what advantages I'd had; advantages I'd very nearly wasted. From that moment I no longer desired to be wealthy, for it'd only ruin me. Instead I'd set out a path for the middle ground, much as my own father had. From then on I'd always looked at those who spent their gifts on extravagent living with pity, because so many of them would either waste their life and die miserable or live on to pass their mannerisms to the next generation.

 

In a point, Rarity's gaze was a siren song, one that I only too readily reconized. Should I be entranced by her tempting eyes, only failure and damnation would occur. Without further deliberation, I made towards the door to try and escape. I'd barely made it halfway when I was knocked over on my side with unexpected force. Though my body had become strong and swift during my stay at the Arena, now it failed me utterly. Her dainty leg pinned down my chest like a weight of iron. For all a man's fortitude or intelligence, he would always be utterly brought to kneel by the correct touch. Some women used this ability of their like a lasso, endlessly capturing their targets and snaring them in silken bonds. Others were so subtle that one day you could be working away at your regular life and the next find yourself trapped in a web of lies and guilt stronger than steel. In all aspects, Rarity had sensuality in spades.

 

No matter how hard I tried, I could not move an inch. My arms and legs quivered with the strain, chest heaving up and down in effort. I only became more frantic as she lowered her head to my neck and breathed in slowly. "Just like -any- other male," she whispered. "One moment your standing -so- self righteous and the next your on your knees, begging a woman to simply stay in your company. Disappointing... I'd hoped you'd be more of a challenge than those that came before you. I think the record was... twelve seconds. But oh that was just -years- ago. Nothing before or after has ever put up much a challenge. It's all just so.... boring." Her gaze flowed into mine, causing me to clench up and nearly die on the spot. "I'd wished that perhaps -you- of everyone might be able to satisfy me... But you're just another Male. Oh well. I'd other plans anyways."

 

This manner of hers, so dismissive and cruel enraged me. It made me want to forever wipe that smug look of superiority and disdain off her face. I wouldn't break her body, her friends would never allow that. But instead I'd peel her mind to shreds, bit by bit until nothing remained. So focused was I that it took my a couple of seconds to register the crystal knife that was sticking between my ribs. Now it was my turn to be dumbfounded. But how... where had she gotten... why would she... just... WHAT?! It took me even longer to feel the pain, which slowly crept through my chest like molten lead. Yet I could do nothing, not while the tip of her hoof anchored me to the floor. She'd placed her strike well and already I could feel the coldness creeping in. From far away I could hear pounding and yelling, while my eyes struggled against my will to stay awake.

 

Then there was chaos. I remember a bright flash and accompanying loud noises. Somehow I found myself crawling and dragging myself forward towards... well most anything else. The pain rooted in my chest ached, though not as much as the other agonies I'd already endured. Then once again the blessed merciful darkness took me again and for a time I slept. My dreams were fitful and filled with half imagined betrayl. Thus I remained for a while, until some time later I would perhaps awake again.

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 15

I imagine perhaps that in a normal person's life waking up would be a peaceful experience. More than likely, the vasty majority of the human race experiences a few moments of peace and stillness before the rest of reality creeps back in the door like a guilty child out past curfew. Perhaps it said much about me; that I no longer seemed to be capable of a 'peaceful waking.' Though as in the current case, I experienced the odd sensation of not waking up. In effect this meant that I knew I -should- be awake and that my mind was going to increasingly great lengths to make it thus. But despite these efforts nothing happened. Up until now there had been many restrictions which I'd been able to overcome by some manner or another. (That of course excluding a very recent instance of one malicious mare.) So I found it... disconcerting to be bound, without much I could do about it. It was (suprisingly) some small comfort that at least being stuck asleep was much more pleasurable that... say... being strapped to a medical table while being jabbed with pointy objects.

 

Of course my ever so helpful (not really) brain decided to chime in, in its own irritating fashion. It happened to remind me that it was quite possible to go insane if I remained as I currently was for an overly long period of time. Well... it was likely that I'd be -less- sane (for a given value of insanity) than I already was. While it would take too long to elaborate thoroughly, I'd lately found it hard to discern whether I was sane or insanew lately due to the lack of any concrete sanity to compare it to. Keeping this in mind did not make things much better, as I only allowed myself a given amount of brain-space per a segment of time; this being a safety measure to keep me from being swamped as I so often had been in recent memory.

 

The universe, it its fashion, decided that it was now time to wake me up. Though if I were to be specific, it would be my erstwhile captor/saviour that did so, likely (albeit unwittingly) on the universe's behalf. Who this was came shortly afterwards when my eyes caught up with the program and grudingly opened. The person revealed to my eyes was... someone I didn't know. It was -probably- someone that I wouldn't have liked to know if it were up to me, but I didn't really have a lot of choice in the matter right those moment. My revulsion at this person's presence was mainly due to the fact that she (at least I thought it was a she) was on the far end of ugly. I try not to be a superficial person, but this woman was so far down the ugly scale that I'd have thrown up on the spot but lacked the faculties. In fact, I lacked a good number of faculties right then and was droolingly like an idiot because of it.

 

Feeling had returned to my bones at least, but it only did so by bringing it's shoddy room-mates Pain and Exhaustion with it. So it could be drawn from this that my rest had not been restful in the slightest. Great. In spite of (or maybe because of?) previous experiences, I could see (somewhat) that I was not currently bound down to the object I was placed on, that being a hideous but moderately comfy chair. It has and will continue to surprise me how such horridly designed objects can be used with satisfaction, yet almost anything that looks halfway decent is comparable to sitting on a wooden pony.

 

The area that this contradictory chair was placed in was a sparsely furnished home. I supposed that this meant either the owner (the ugly woman?) was either poor, or simply prefered relative comforts over appearances. It was entirely likely that both were true retrospectively, but my mind was more purposed to 'either/or' at that point. All told it was somewhat pleasent to experience in relation to the rest of my contemporary life. Of all things to cause such, this realization led me to have a crisis of faith. Thus far I'd always been sure that what I percieved to be happening was what was -actually- occuring. I was just hard-wired that way. Part of that had come to be that I believed myself inherently different than other people. A special snowflake if you will (though a very spiky and stubborn one). So any connection what-so-ever to those I was supposed to be different from was... challenging. Odd that actually experiencing a 'peacefull waking' could cause that.

 

My host/captor/saviour was making tea while I went about having a schism of faith. If memory serves it was tea of the indescernible variety which is used when one wants to include the tea in something else which is not tea, like absurd amounts of sugar as is done in the South-East United States. This very average tea was being boiled in an exceedingly average teapot of the sort used by old ladies in any country that has tea. (This being primarily made of cast-iron or any other metal which seems to absorb the essence of what is cooked in it to produce memorable and enticing flavors not normally obtainable. Many families have suffered near civil war over which woman will inherit the former matriarch's kettle along with pots and pans.)

 

While my own internal crisis eventually sorted itself out, I did not feel rude enough to interrupt the lady (if that is what she was) in her labor. Instead I elected to (try to) examine my surrounding in more detail. This was a little hard to do, what with my muscles not taking orders nor reporting back and so forth. Still, I was able to gather a few factoids. First, that the (maybe a) lady was probably a captor instead of the other things. This was due to her possessing furniture on the legs of which were 'beast feet.' Given that I absolutely despised these fixtures with ever fiber of my being and destroyed them if I got the chance, I had a long list of enemies I'd made up until now. Most of them were angry home owners who'd found that their antique cabinet was suddenly kindling. I had even seriously considered trying to discover time travel for the explicit purpose of killing who ever invented the fixture style before it was ever made. That didn't exactly make sense upon inspection, but that was really how much I hated (and still hate) them.

 

Second amongst various items of note was that I would simply have to call my captor 'the Woman' until her name was discovered. It simply wasn't worth the time nor space to continue making that joke any longer. Right after this, third, was that the Woman possessed what appeared to be questionably large collection of bugs. There was something close to a couple hundred species of beetles alone mixed in with moths, spiders (which were really arachnids), ants, and other insects. Strangely though, there were no butterflies. All of these were neatly pinned up. Unlike normal collections of this kind, they were pegged to the wall itself rather than boxes hung on the wall. It gave me cause to wonder if a menagerie had been crawling up her abode's side and she'd taken the time (and a lot of darts) to pin them there using a blowgun. Frankly that would have made it much more interesting for me that those kind of things usually were.

 

There -was- a fourth and fifth item, but they would have to be saved for later. My captor had finished with tea and was now setting out a folding table to serve it on. Much to my expectations, the tea was served in jars rather than anything closer to a cup. I did find this a little irritating, not because I thought the jars were horrid, but because I actually liked bland tea and wasn't able to get to it. The Woman seemed to be fully aware of this, but made no move to help me while my eyes made a good effort of trying to move the jar to my lips via willpower. Unfortunately I was neither a Jedi nor telekenetic, so it remained where it was.

 

"So tell me...," she purred (an odd noise to be sure, coming from her). "Would you like to shag now, or shag later?" ... What?

[HigurSan 195]

Chapter 16

"Hun...," she tutted. Her tone could have been seductive on another more attractive woman. Yet her using it made my skin crawl. It was like personified STD's was trying to molest you through your ears. "Everyone is always trying to shag somebody. Right now I'm trying to shag you. You can't do much to resist, so I'll probably succeed." She was correct, as twisted and disgusting as the notion was. I had negative desire to do any such things at the moment with anyone. What's more, something about her collection of preserved bugs made me think she'd have no problem dissecting me instead of say... a standard classroom frog. Her following statements only reinforced this opinion.

 

"Of course you wouldn't be the best shag I've had. Probably wouldn't rank in even the top hundred. Take that big green fellow, what with the bulging muscles and no brains. He ranked somewhere around a hundred fifty two and you're still a good few spots below him on the totem pole. Oh lord, I could walk straight for a week after-" At this point my brain intereceded upon my behalf and distracted me with examining the number of cracks in the the ceiling. I'd gotten mixed up between two thousand three or four hundred when she finally noticed that I wasn't paying attention. What she did is not entirely describable, but I can say I felt unbarably filthy for days afterwards. That and I smelt like rotten fish when standing the wrong way.

 

"Ugh, I just hate it when men do that!" She growled, something which suited her much better than anything pleasurable. "I try to compliment them by comparing them to their betters and they -all- try to ignore me for the ceiling. There's three thousand one hundred and seventy five cracks by the way. You know that the last man who did that wasn't -able- to look at anything afterwards. You should be grateful! One second its staring at the cieling and the next your walking out the door to whatever worthless skank you waste your-"

 

"ENOUGH." The reverberations of the speech rocked the room, knocking several framed bugs from their spots to the floor. The chair I'd been sitting in was somewhere ten meters behind me and through a wall (or two). I on the other hand had the Woman by the throat, or the area near enough through the body fat. Despite her weight, holding her a foot off the ground was like pinching a feather. "You are parts of what's Wrong with this place. You and everything else in this hell are going to burn to death and I'm going to watch and LAUGH!" A squeeze was all it took to crush her. Yet I didn't squeeze. Instead I simply dropped her and walked away, busting through the door with a swipe of my hand.

 

I could hear her screaming at me hoarsely from her apartment as I examined my surroundings. Her rage echoed through the cavernous space, only to be drowned out by a profusion of excess noise. I stood on a narrow walkway, one of many dozens which ran up and down both sides of a gigantic canyon which stretched up, down, and to both sides as far as the eye could see. Bridges both ramshackle and manufacted crisscrossed the space inbetween; mere bandages trying to link two sides of a seemingly mortal wound. Across these myriad of crossways swarmed thousands of people of all makes and sizes. Everything from spindly old tinkerers peddling their wares to flamboyant fat men barreling everyone else out of their way. To a rule all present seemed to be rather low in societal status. A grim underside slum if one ever existed. My entrance had more or less been lost amongst the din, so I was able to get moving without much further trouble.

 

Thankfully I wasn't stark naked, though it seemed like it wouldn't have surprised anyone. Instead I'd managed to retain a basic bodysuit and some boots. My size and recently acquired strength gained me some leeway to travel, as most moved out of my way. 'Accidentally' being shoved over the rail to drop to your death was apparently a common cause of death if one wasn't careful. Even so, several individuals did just that during my journey. Poor simple negligence and a lack of concern for life was the only cause of all of them. In effect, people died only because the larger individuals (like myself) were unconcerned with their safety. The strong stepped on, over, and through those weaker than themselves.

 

I'd started walking simply because I had no reason to stay where I was. But as I travelled, I was reminded that there was important business to attend to. I still needed to try and defeat the Gods. (Yeah, great luck with that thus far...) Not to mention that there was still the 'Tourney'. To cap that all off, I knew no one around here and any potential allies I'd had were god only knows where. So I was alone and uninformed. Common sense dictated that the first and most prudent course of action was to find a safe bolthole, somewhere to plan and prepare. Finding an empty and usable apartment was easier than one would think. People died all the time here and the population was in constant transit.

 

So through some searching and selective positioning, I found a dwelling across the canyon, down several levels, and a few kilometers from where I'd started. There were no furnishings to speak off, but it was (mostly) secure compared to the other options. That is to say there were actually locks on the doors. (In an odd stroke of luck, the keys were hanging on a hook inside, as if they were waiting for me.) It was also (sort of) clean. There were stains in the carpet and none of the appliances (just a sink and a seemingly misplaced television) worked. Having inspected it thus, I locked the door from the inside, wandered over to a corner, sat down with my back against the wall, and tried to get some sleep. Needless to say, it was not restful, but it was better than much other sleep I'd had recently.