25th August. Sheen, alone beneath the giant house.
I was sleeping lightly all through the night. The curate did try to sneak past at one point and, when I leapt at him, he then started sobbing and begging on the grounds of a desperate hunger. I let him have the established share when I could see some sunlight filtering through into our hide-out and offered him a greater portion of the wine as I would have been content to continue refreshing myself with rain water, but as the day went on he kept trying to gain more than his fair share and we even found ourselves lashing out at each other. I do not know how long I could've coped with this behaviour, but when I had my share at my preferred time I was appalled to hear him practically screaming a diatribe.
"Demons!" He'd cry out. "They're all demons in a beguiling form! The Sirens of old have returned!" I hurried into the parlour and grabbed him by the shoulders, which led to another scuffle between us that was interspersed by my insistence that we had to keep quiet. At one point he effectively ordered me to retrieve some more food and drink to perform holy communion; I refused point blank because I knew what would really happen if I gave in to his demands, and I tried to reason with him that the position he used to enjoy wasn't one that was ordained for the blessing of the requisite materials. As the arguments and fighting started up again he then made the most dreadful yelling I had heard since leaving Weybridge. "These demons shall be cast out, and I shall take them on with my faith in Christ!" Now I felt compelled to restrain him as much for my own life as his, but he wrestled with me extensively as he tried to make for the window. "I shall destroy them with my prayers! I am a prophet of the Lord sent to..." I fear these are his last words, for at that moment I was so desperate to stop this insanity that I spontaneously grabbed a fragment of brick that had fallen in a few days back and swung it against his temple. He fell to the floor almost instantly, leaving me to stand there as my panic subsided enough for me to think about all of this; the sense of guilt I had about lashing out in such a manner was reigned in by the prospect that one of the ponies could've heard him. At this time I heard a familiar voice roll over my position and felt a deep dread.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" These words were accompanied by the heavy thuds I associated with ordinary hoof-steps, but that was Pinkie's voice and she tended to jump on all fours, so I was momentarily confused before I had a horrible realisation of what was likely to happen. As her shadow fell across the window I grabbed the curate's unconscious form and hauled him towards the cellar. As I pulled him across the threshold the first sign of our hide-out being breached occurred in a very creepy manner that had me diving into the dark space of the cellar, for it looked like Pinkie had actually jammed her own eyeball into the window! It could see it roll around searching for us as I tried to pull the curate's body into the darkness; it was confusing and horrifying to see her house-sized eye almost filling the parlour when it had no business fitting in there. I did pull the curate as far in as I could before I slipped into the narrow space beside the water butts. I had heard Pinkie make a noise denoting intrigue at this time and, when I looked again, I saw that the door I had thrust into place as quickly as I could begin to open up again. As I watched it looked like a huge puce tentacle was feeling around in the dark, probing the walls and momentarily picking up items that would typically be found in a cellar under normal circumstances. I pushed my fist into my mouth to force myself to be silent as it crept close to me, whereupon I know saw that this was actually the curl of Pinkie's forelock. I don't know what's more horrifying, that she can manipulate her hair in this manner or the prospect of a more octopus-like version of her.
I was so transfixed with terror by now that I hadn't realised that she'd busted the whole side of the parlour open. I thought she'd given up as the forelock seemed to recede for a moment, but then it shot out and wrapped itself around the curate! With slow, deliberate movements his unconscious body was lifted out of the cellar and I there was nothing I could do to stop her; what was worse was that I heard him groan as she carried him away before her voice thundered all around.
"Ooh. Hi there, little nummy fella." The next thing I heard, though dreadful to be witness to has to be noted, was of her hungrily smacking her lips before I then heard the despairing scream of his voice. The primal cry of terror he made was cut off abruptly by the sound of Pinkie's slurp and, after some more distressing sounds of her enjoying her catch, I heard her swallow. I remained huddled in the corner beside the water butts as I heard her make the one remark I hoped wouldn't come to her mind. "Are there any more?" I listened as she dug up the rest of the parlour and the kitchen before a great burst of light flooded the cellar as the ceiling was torn clean off by her colossal pink hoof, though I did have a momentary reprieve as my spot remained in the shade of an outcropping left behind. "Huh? It's well-stocked, but I could've sworn I saw a little figure scrabbling away." I crouched into the corner as tightly as I could, knowing that to her the cover I had was little more than the lid of a biscuit barrel, and saw the open space get covered by the shadow of her hoof coming back down when a tremendous shout hit the space.
"PINKIEEE!" I recognised that voice, too. The towering figure of Princess Luna thundered forwards, barely discernible from my hiding spot but those glittering horseshoes are quite familiar to me by now. The shout made the descending hoof recede and the whole of what had been my hide-out filled with sunshine as more dust fell onto me from the force of Pinkie stumbling back. "Wherefore art thou digging there?!?
"I was digging for humans, princess." Her voice had an innocent tone to it, which might've been satisfactory for the ponies but was a stark contrast to her actions from my perspective. "This little guy was ranting louder than a crying foal, so I don't know why he kept cowering in here if he was gonna make himself that easy to find." She smacked her lips again after saying this. A strange tingling sensation fell over me and I tensed in apprehension before Luna replied.
"You shouldn't just dig them out and gulp them down straight off. At least offer your friends a taste if nothing else. Besides, maybe the little human had gone completely loopy from being trapped under our residences." There was some more talk between them, but I couldn't recollect the actual meaning behind their words. The next thing I knew the intense shock-waves of Pinkie bouncing away had effectively knocked me out of my hiding place. I looked up to see Luna's astral tail filling the sky before she walked, possibly into the house that had trapped me for ten days.
It was getting on for sunset before I crept up to where the kitchen was and could now see that the gigantic plants were almost filling the space in front of the ponies' house as I retrieved as much as I could. Now it was just me who had to be fed, but I didn't feel much like eating after what had happened even if I had missed my rations earlier. I must now try to write my entries in this diary in the hiding spot beside the water butts and sleep here, for it's the only space left where the ponies won't find me.
I was sleeping lightly all through the night. The curate did try to sneak past at one point and, when I leapt at him, he then started sobbing and begging on the grounds of a desperate hunger. I let him have the established share when I could see some sunlight filtering through into our hide-out and offered him a greater portion of the wine as I would have been content to continue refreshing myself with rain water, but as the day went on he kept trying to gain more than his fair share and we even found ourselves lashing out at each other. I do not know how long I could've coped with this behaviour, but when I had my share at my preferred time I was appalled to hear him practically screaming a diatribe.
"Demons!" He'd cry out. "They're all demons in a beguiling form! The Sirens of old have returned!" I hurried into the parlour and grabbed him by the shoulders, which led to another scuffle between us that was interspersed by my insistence that we had to keep quiet. At one point he effectively ordered me to retrieve some more food and drink to perform holy communion; I refused point blank because I knew what would really happen if I gave in to his demands, and I tried to reason with him that the position he used to enjoy wasn't one that was ordained for the blessing of the requisite materials. As the arguments and fighting started up again he then made the most dreadful yelling I had heard since leaving Weybridge. "These demons shall be cast out, and I shall take them on with my faith in Christ!" Now I felt compelled to restrain him as much for my own life as his, but he wrestled with me extensively as he tried to make for the window. "I shall destroy them with my prayers! I am a prophet of the Lord sent to..." I fear these are his last words, for at that moment I was so desperate to stop this insanity that I spontaneously grabbed a fragment of brick that had fallen in a few days back and swung it against his temple. He fell to the floor almost instantly, leaving me to stand there as my panic subsided enough for me to think about all of this; the sense of guilt I had about lashing out in such a manner was reigned in by the prospect that one of the ponies could've heard him. At this time I heard a familiar voice roll over my position and felt a deep dread.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" These words were accompanied by the heavy thuds I associated with ordinary hoof-steps, but that was Pinkie's voice and she tended to jump on all fours, so I was momentarily confused before I had a horrible realisation of what was likely to happen. As her shadow fell across the window I grabbed the curate's unconscious form and hauled him towards the cellar. As I pulled him across the threshold the first sign of our hide-out being breached occurred in a very creepy manner that had me diving into the dark space of the cellar, for it looked like Pinkie had actually jammed her own eyeball into the window! It could see it roll around searching for us as I tried to pull the curate's body into the darkness; it was confusing and horrifying to see her house-sized eye almost filling the parlour when it had no business fitting in there. I did pull the curate as far in as I could before I slipped into the narrow space beside the water butts. I had heard Pinkie make a noise denoting intrigue at this time and, when I looked again, I saw that the door I had thrust into place as quickly as I could begin to open up again. As I watched it looked like a huge puce tentacle was feeling around in the dark, probing the walls and momentarily picking up items that would typically be found in a cellar under normal circumstances. I pushed my fist into my mouth to force myself to be silent as it crept close to me, whereupon I know saw that this was actually the curl of Pinkie's forelock. I don't know what's more horrifying, that she can manipulate her hair in this manner or the prospect of a more octopus-like version of her.
I was so transfixed with terror by now that I hadn't realised that she'd busted the whole side of the parlour open. I thought she'd given up as the forelock seemed to recede for a moment, but then it shot out and wrapped itself around the curate! With slow, deliberate movements his unconscious body was lifted out of the cellar and I there was nothing I could do to stop her; what was worse was that I heard him groan as she carried him away before her voice thundered all around.
"Ooh. Hi there, little nummy fella." The next thing I heard, though dreadful to be witness to has to be noted, was of her hungrily smacking her lips before I then heard the despairing scream of his voice. The primal cry of terror he made was cut off abruptly by the sound of Pinkie's slurp and, after some more distressing sounds of her enjoying her catch, I heard her swallow. I remained huddled in the corner beside the water butts as I heard her make the one remark I hoped wouldn't come to her mind. "Are there any more?" I listened as she dug up the rest of the parlour and the kitchen before a great burst of light flooded the cellar as the ceiling was torn clean off by her colossal pink hoof, though I did have a momentary reprieve as my spot remained in the shade of an outcropping left behind. "Huh? It's well-stocked, but I could've sworn I saw a little figure scrabbling away." I crouched into the corner as tightly as I could, knowing that to her the cover I had was little more than the lid of a biscuit barrel, and saw the open space get covered by the shadow of her hoof coming back down when a tremendous shout hit the space.
"PINKIEEE!" I recognised that voice, too. The towering figure of Princess Luna thundered forwards, barely discernible from my hiding spot but those glittering horseshoes are quite familiar to me by now. The shout made the descending hoof recede and the whole of what had been my hide-out filled with sunshine as more dust fell onto me from the force of Pinkie stumbling back. "Wherefore art thou digging there?!?
"I was digging for humans, princess." Her voice had an innocent tone to it, which might've been satisfactory for the ponies but was a stark contrast to her actions from my perspective. "This little guy was ranting louder than a crying foal, so I don't know why he kept cowering in here if he was gonna make himself that easy to find." She smacked her lips again after saying this. A strange tingling sensation fell over me and I tensed in apprehension before Luna replied.
"You shouldn't just dig them out and gulp them down straight off. At least offer your friends a taste if nothing else. Besides, maybe the little human had gone completely loopy from being trapped under our residences." There was some more talk between them, but I couldn't recollect the actual meaning behind their words. The next thing I knew the intense shock-waves of Pinkie bouncing away had effectively knocked me out of my hiding place. I looked up to see Luna's astral tail filling the sky before she walked, possibly into the house that had trapped me for ten days.
It was getting on for sunset before I crept up to where the kitchen was and could now see that the gigantic plants were almost filling the space in front of the ponies' house as I retrieved as much as I could. Now it was just me who had to be fed, but I didn't feel much like eating after what had happened even if I had missed my rations earlier. I must now try to write my entries in this diary in the hiding spot beside the water butts and sleep here, for it's the only space left where the ponies won't find me.
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April 19
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