There was white for the longest time. Nothing else, just a blank, white void. It was almost painful to look at, but then, it wasn’t the sort of white you looked at. It was more of a feeling-white than a looking-white. There was a lot of it to feel, but not a lot to feel it with. An eternity of silent solitude, with the white.
“Tha’ far gone already, huh?” That wasn’t right. There was something other than white. It wasn’t a feeling thing, either. Not feeling-white, but looking-grey. Gray and black. Striped. There was a word for this thing, but it wasn’t known.
“Is Zebra, mon.” Zebra, of course. How had it known, though? How had it known what was thought?
“Los’ yerself already. ‘n ‘our tops, den, ‘fore you go braindead. Dat be bad.” Bad. Bad wasn’t a word that wanted to be heard. It wasn’t white. The feeling-white was all that mattered. There shouldn’t be Bad.
“Enough a ‘dis!” The zebra shouted, “Compose yerself, Honey Blossom!” The words held power. A command. An order. Gradually, the white began to stir. It swirled. It bubbled. It began to rage against the words, as they relinquished from it a soul that had sought only peaceful refuge among its ascetic clutches.
There was a short *pop* and an awfully familiar yellow mare appeared among the white. It was a short moment before it was remembered that that was what she looked like, at which point there was a second *pop*, and Honey was looking through her own eyes again.
Honey blinked once. She blinked again. She looked at the zebra and asked, “Did I black out for a second there?”
The zebra chuckled, his voice deep and scratchy. “Dry sev’ral ‘ours,  mon, an’ you gettin’ closa’ to de mark.”
Honey blinked. “That’s… quite an accent. Where’s it from? And… where am I now?”
“Jamar’ca, an’ we inside ye ‘ead, girl. Liv’n’ an’ breath’n’ in y’ very thoughts ‘n’ dreams. An’ more materially, ya bleedin’ out onna surg’ry table.”
“Oh,” Honey sighed as she became quite dour, her shoulders slumping.
“Yer’ nod surviv’n’ what pud ya in ‘ere, mon.”
“Oh,” Honey’s dourness intensified to dismality as she muttered.
“Ya all be dead by an ‘our’s time.”
“Oh,” Honey barely murmured as she adopted a state of depression.
The zebra nodded, making his necklace – a simple cord from which hung many small, silver pony skulls - jingle slightly. “A’corse, Ah wouldn’ be ‘ere ‘nless dere were som’din to be done fer yuh.”
Honey perked up a lot. “You can do something to save me?” she said as she smiled widely.
“Maybe. T’ain’t an ea’y ding to do, though, so dere be a catch a sor’s.”
Honey’s smile flattened. “Nothing’s free nowadays. Well, I’m out of a job and nearly dead, and most of the ponies I know are ahead of me on that last point, so if you need anything from me, feel free to take it.”
The zebra gave her a knowing smile. “Dain’t dat easy, girl. De procedure be all kindsa dang’rous, an’ ya may not se’vive. But seein’ how dat ain’t an issue fer yuh, Ah can tell yah ‘bout de real concern. It expensive. Real expensive. An’ since you don’ got de money up fron’, and no job lef’ ta get it from, we forc’d da ask ye da work fer us instead, leas’ until you pay yerself off.”
Honey’s blood chilled slightly. That was an extremely dicy contract. This zebra could work for anyone. They could ask her to do anything. Pushing drugs. Smuggling drugs. Securing business deals through property damage. Even… murder? “…Can I at least know who I’m working for, exactly?”
The zebra’s smile changed slightly, showing off a lot more of his alarmingly white teeth. “I afraid dat Ah can na discuss dat withou’ ya signin’ a non-disclos’re agreemen’, an’ since yuh lack any hooves ta sign it wid, Ah ain’t at liability ta tell ya.”
Honey sighed, deflatedly. “Can I at least know your name?”
The zebra’s lips closed over his teeth, which made the whole smile seem a lot more honest. “Me name’s Zacharias, an’ i’s a pleasure ta meet ya, Honey Blossom.” He held out a hoof.
Honey took it, and shook. “Well, Zacharias, since I’m dead otherwise and lacking alternatives, I’ll take you up on your offer. We have a deal.”
Zacharias grinned again. “Wonderful,” he commented, and the dream melted into blackness.