Title:           Sick Chrysalis part 2
Author:          BeenAsPays
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/ETszqJFU
First Edit:      Monday 7th of July 2014 12:43:35 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Monday 7th of July 2014 12:43:35 AM CDT

>You wake up with one hell of a headache.
>Your head spins for another minute or two before your thoughts start to come to order again.
>The first thing you do is rub your head to check for bumps, and to your surprise, you’ve been bandaged.
>Guess your abductors really care about you, after all.
>As soon as you think you are able to, you get up. You’re a bit dizzy, but you can manage with the aide of nearby furniture.
>You take the time to look around now that you are able.
>The room is quite spacious, actually. You were expecting to be stuck in a broom closet for the rest of your life.
>There’s finely crafted furniture, tastefully placed so that the room’s feng-shui is just perfect.
>If your abductors think that a stay at a five-star resort will be enough to win you over…
>...Eh, hell. It might.
>A knock on the door breaks you from your musing.
>Before you can answer it, it opens. A tray with bread, a bucket of clean-looking water and a note is pushed into the room.
>Well, now that you think about it, you were feeling a little hungry. Now’s as good a time as any to find a comfortable spot, plop down, and stuff your face.
>Oh, and read the note.
>”Creature, you are now property of the Changeling Hive.”
>Well, that answers a few questions.
>”We have brought you here because our glorious Queen has fallen ill.
>”You are required to nurse her back to health.”
>Suddenly you feel ready to  forgive all the bludgeoning and trickery. [spoiler]Not really.[/spoiler]
>”If you try to escape, we will find you.
>”If any harm comes to our Queen, we will kill you.”
>Scary.
>You nearly miss the text at the bottom. ”P.S. This food is for the Queen. Do not eat it, yourself.”
>Oh.
>Shit.
>You put the rest of the bread back onto the tray.
>Explaining this to the food’s intended recipient is going to be daunting.
>A snore resonates from the bed in the room.
>Speaking of which...
>You might as well get a diagnosis of your patie-- JESUS CHRIST.
>She looks like hell.
>Her carapace is chipping. Flakes of chitin can be found on the bed and floor.
>Removing her covers reveal even worse, her legs have even started forming holes.
>You feel kind of bad for her when she starts shivering.
>It really is a pitiful sight.
>She stirs as you continue to look her over. When her head raises from her pillow, you look at her. All she does is watch you, as if waiting for your next move.
>You drop the covers and look back at her, waiting for hers.
>A moment passes like this.
>Eventually you decide that it may be best to break the uncomfortable silence
“Hi.”
>She drops her head back into her pillow. She stares at the ceiling, looking annoyed.
“My name’s Anonymous, or if you like, you can just call me Anon.”
>She doesn’t respond. You were hoping to defuse the awkward atmosphere, but she’s making it difficult.
“So…”
>She looks at you, barely turning her head.
>”Water.” She speaks barely louder than a whisper.
>You go and fetch the bucket.
>After filling the ladle, you prop her head up and let her take sips.
>Her head feels clammy.
>After two or three drinks, she mutters, “That’s enough,” and you lay her head back down.
>You sit still, and wait for her to tell you what to do.
>She coughs a bit, before finally speaking up. “You have questions,” she manages, though hoarsely.
>You nod.
>”Very well. Ask them.”
“Don’t you have servants for this? You’re the queen, aren't you?”
>She swallows before saying, “My condition is contagious. The last servant that tried to take care of me fell ill.”
“And you don’t want anyone else getting sick. I see.”
>Makes sense, really.
“All right, why did you kidnap me?”
>She looks at you blankly. “Would you have come willingly to the aide of the Changeling queen?”
>You give an exaggerated shrug, “I dunno. Maybe?”
>”The answer is that you wouldn't, creature.” She goes back to staring at the ceiling.
>You respond with an agitated, “Why not?”
>To which she looks at you incredulously. “After the invasion of Canterlot? Or perhaps our occupation of Ponyville?”
“The what?”
>She stares at you, unable to comprehend what you’re saying.
>Finally, she lowers her head again. “We’re enemies of Equestria, Anonymous. Even begging for help would be fruitless.”
>You sit quietly with pursed lips for a moment.
>You’re not sure if she has a point, or if she’s just making excuses.
>Either way, it’s irrelevant now.
>A pause. ”How could you not know about the Invasion of Canterlot?”
“I’m… Not from around here.”
>”Obviously.”
“As in, not from this world.”
>She turns to you, brow raised inquisitively.
>”An outworlder?”
>You nod.
>She hums, intrigued.
>Only one more question comes to mind.
>Perhaps the most obvious one.
“What happens to me when you don’t need me anymore?”
>She grins.
>It’s unnerving.
>”We’ll found out when the time comes, won’t we?”