- This story has the same premise as the first story on this pastebin.
- Post Apocalyptic Earth where large ponies(much like giant midgets) devour humans because reasons.
- If the above sentence has given you any pause, do not read this story.
- Seriously.
- ...
- Alright, well I warned you.
- >You stalk silently in the night.
- >This city was once your home, but now it is your prison, and possibly your coffin.
- >The pony apocalypse came as quickly as it did destroy everything about you.
- >In a matter of hours, your friends, family and acquaintances were taken from you.
- >Whether it was them fleeing, running or disappearing, you never got to say goodbye.
- >You just awoke one morning.
- >Alone.
- >Sheer dumb luck can only describe how you've been able to survive thus far.
- >Living a pampered life, you highly doubt you had a natural knack of survival.
- >Traveling at night, sticking to the shadows and avoiding noisy areas and shrieks of panic is your plan.
- >While your heart bled for the victims you heard, your lack of physical ability persuaded you to run.
- >The backpack full of goods on your back was enough of a burden to you.
- >Your love of preserved food and bottled water seems to have worked in your favor this time.
- >You even managed to pick up a firearm amidst a battlefield long forgotten.
- >The losses on both sides favored the pony kind heavily.
- >But the gruesome scene it left behind is something you prefer to forget.
- >Seems that they prefer their prey live than torn apart.
- >You trip on nothing in particular as your legs are a painful reminder that not everything is perfect.
- >Your shin splints and lack of knowledge of anything fight against you.
- >Each step you take is agony, but you must press on.
- >Seeing your destination, the local clinic ahead, you decide to run into an alleyway to rest.
- >You throw yourself onto the ground and rest your back against the brick wall.
- >Beads of sweat fall from your face as your lungs strain for air.
- >You look at the weapon holstered on your side.
- >Never having operated a gun before, you wouldn't know how to maintain it.
- >It operated, you hope, and had one bullet left when you were playing around with it.
- >You just know that finger goes on trigger, and death comes out the other end.
- >You steady yourself up, using the wall to prop yourself up.
- >Dragging your feet out of the alleyway, you move to the clinic.
- >The dead silence of the night leads you to believe that this area has been abandoned.
- >Arriving at the door, you press your ear to the door.
- >Nothing.
- >Slowly opening the door with your left, and gripping the gun with your right, you brace yourself.
- >You peek into the room and see nothing wandering the room.
- >Despite the darkness of the clinic, you hazard a chance and close the door behind you.
- >The dim moonlight through the broken windows barely illuminates your surroundings.
- >The waiting room area looks as if a whirlwind tore through the place.
- >Broken tables, dilapidated desks, and torn magazines cover the floor.
- >While the pitch black parts of the room may hide surprises, your ragged body needs rest.
- >Painkillers are high on your priority list, as the sleepless nights wrack your mind.
- >30 hours without so much as a nap is a nice formula for being caught.
- >Taking a step into the room, the distinct crunch of broken glass crackle beneath your feet.
- >”Nnngg...”
- >A feeble voice pierces the darkness of the room.
- >You hold perfectly still, though the light of the moon illuminates your feet.
- >Looking to the source of the sound, you can barely make out a dilapidated structure of some sort.
- >And a large figure beneath the wreck.
- >Too large to be human.
- >While your mind tells you to run, your body refuses to budge.
- >Your head is swimming with emotions, limbs paralyzed in a panic.
- >The figure appears to glow softly from the appendage from its head.
- >A unicorn.
- >Its messy pink mane is draped over its white coat, stained in dry blood.
- >The baby blue eyes lock onto you as cold sweat runs down your back.
- >”Please... help...”
- >The weak, feminine voice draws you closer to the creature.
- >You are now standing over the gentle glow as she stares at you.
- >A broken vending machine appears to have claimed this pony, pinning her entire body, save her head.
- >”Ahh... human...”
- >Her pupils dilate as your right hand appears with a drawn gun.
- >You take aim at the pony, her large head a hard target to miss.
- >One shot.
- >”Sorry... for everything...”
- >Your finger wraps around the trigger.
- >A smile creeps across her face.
- >”Wish... we could've met... outside of this...”
- >You remain still, gun still drawn.
- >The pony slowly closes her eyes as she maintains her happy expression.
- >...
- >You can't do it.
- >Her voice melts your heart with every parched crack, and you've never been a violent one.
- >You holster your weapon silently as you drop your backpack.
- >The impact of the backpack on the ground startles the pony as she opens her eyes in wonder.
- >You kneel down to lift the wreckage off the pony.
- >”No... wait...”
- >A few seconds of effort reveal that your twig arms and lack of sleep are not enough to lift several hundred pounds of machinery.
- >You tumble backwards as you recover from your foolish endeavor.
- >”Food and water... I can remove this with some energy...”
- >You drag your bag over to yourself, removing a few packs of dried berries and a couple of bottled waters.
- >As you open these containers for her, she looks to you with an inquisitive stare.
- >”Why?”
- >You look to her, water bottle in hand and berries in another.
- “Honestly, I don't know. But this feels right.”
- >She faces her head up, so that gravity can help in delivering the rations to her body.
- >You pour the water into her mouth, tongue lapping away at the stream of water.
- >Judging by her size, she will probably need a lot more than one bottle.
- >But two is the most you can spare right now.
- >Assuming you'll live through this.
- >You hold your hand out with the berries.
- >Her head doesn't change positions.
- >”Drop them.”
- >She opens her mouth, expecting you to make your move.
- “Won't you choke on them if you eat it like that?”
- >”No choice... your taste drive us wild... drop them.”
- >Piecing together her logic, you tilt your hand over her mouth as she eagerly accepts the berries.
- >”Thank you...”
- >She lays her head on the floor for a bit with her eyes closed.
- >For a moment, nothing happens.
- “Are you...”
- >Her horn glows a gentle teal as the metal wreckage on her is lifted.
- >She looks concentrated in thought as her face strains with effort.
- >The machinery only hovers a few inches off her body.
- >You immediately dart down to grab one of her legs and yank her from under the floating debris.
- >She assists you by pushing away with her other hooves.
- >Once clear, her horn ceases to glow as the metal cluster hits the ground with a loud crash.
- >You find your breath when suddenly the pony grabs you with her front legs, pulling you against her body.
- >”Thank you... so much...”
- >The large equine's coat, while rough where the dried blood spots were, was soft to the touch.
- >Her warm body emanated a comfortable heat that threatened to pull you into a slumber.
- >Still holding onto you, she lays onto the ground with you on top.
- >”Please... sleep...”
- >With closed eyes she immediately starts to softly snore into your ear.
- >Her body rises and falls with every breath, rocking your body up and down.
- >Left without a choice and an ounce of strength, you drift into sleep on your new companion.
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Solitary Confinement: Chapter 1
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