Note: I felt pretty bad about how anaemic the first chapter ended up being, so I decided to finish this one off to get to the good stuff already.
Chapter 2: The Big Dark
At first, none of the herd knew what was happening. They were together, that was clear, but they were surrounded by darkness. None of them could see anything, they were all wet, and they were heaped up in some kind of ersatz fluff-pile, but they were all deeply uncomfortable and scared. Some had even begun making scaredy poopies on each other, which only made things worse.
Slowly, as the rain died off and the blistering sunlight returned to Backwater, the fluffy ponies were able to see again, through thin shafts of light peeping in through manhole covers high above them.
The her saw that they were in a long concrete tunnel, with a bad smell all around them. They were sitting on a raised stone platform, with some small streams of water pouring on either side of them. The platform had some small metal bridges leading to what looked like concrete shelves on the opposite sides of the water⌠but nowhere was there any grass, or any colour, or even much light.
As they became aware of their environment, the typical wailing cries started.
âHuhuhuâŚâ
âWhewe fwuffy?â
âFwuffy hungwyâŚâ
From somewhere within the soaking wet fluff-pile, Smarty emerged, poking his way out with his stubby little horn.
âHEWD! Wisten up!â He snapped. âSmawty know whewe we awe!â He lied. âSmawty got pwan!â He lied. âWe gonna find nummies!â He lied.
The herd, inspired by his obviously true and factual statements, began cheering and babbling.
âFowwow Smawty!â Smarty announced, and led them along one of the bridges. He wasnât sure if it was on the left or the right, but no Smarty needed to know stupid things like that!
The herd was mostly across the bridge, when suddenly there was a yelp. The herd froze and looked, and saw one of the members at the rear, an earth pony with dark yellow fur, was trembling where he stood.
âFwuffy nu can wawk! Weg huwty!â He whimpered. The other fluffies immediately ran to his aid with hugs and love, but that didnât help the fact that his leg was still hurt.
When the fluffies had landed in the drain, they were pulled along by the current of the water, until one by one, they washed up on the concrete platform they had awoken on. But some of their landings were rougher than others, and the yellow earth pony had landed hard against the concrete, badly snapping his rear left leg. The bone had protruded out, tearing through the soft skin, and leaking a small amount of blood. Every step the fluffy took was agony, and he was having to put all his weight on the other three legs just to stay standing up.
Smarty looked at the yellow pony taking all of the attention and snorted.
âHEY! DUMMEHS! Smawty say DIS way!â He said, stamping his hooves on the metal bridge.
âBuh⌠buh huwty-weggy fwiend nu can wawk!â One of the ponies squeaked, speaking up for the yellow pony.
âDunâ cawe!â Smarty snapped. âWe nu stay hewe! Nu nummies!â
The others had to admit, Smarty had a point. As bad as yellowâs hurties were, they were all very hungry, they had been since before the rain had begun. They needed food FAST.
One by one, the hungry fluffies relented and waddled over to join Smarty, who was already trotting away proudly, on all four of his perfectly functional legs.
Meanwhile, the yellow pony picked himself up, wobbling and wincing with pain, and stepped forwards with his front two legs. He found he was able to move his three working legs to step forwards, then drag his limp leg behind them. It still hurt to feel it scraping along the ground, but it didnât hurt AS MUCH as it did to try and walk on it.
Soon enough, limping along, the yellow pony began to catch up to the others, dragging himself behind them.
âWait! Wait fow wimpy fwiend!â Limpy begged, shaking uneasily with every step. âWimpy no can wawk so gud!â
The herd ventured further into the sewer, taking turns left, then right, then ignoring tunnels and going straight ahead, then right, then left⌠seemingly at random, but of course, they knew better than to think that. Smarty never did anything stupid! Smarty was SMART! SMART with a capital⌠whatever letter it starts with.
Smarty continued leading the herd forwards, proudly wandering through the sewer as if it was his palace, but all the walking was making the herd hungrier and hungrier. Even Smarty was starting to feel weak with hunger. They needed nummies, and they needed it NOW.
Finally, Smarty made another seemingly random turn and led the herd into a small room, sectioned off from the rest of the tunnels, with a doorway so wide it would be safer to say there was simply no wall for a door in the first place.
The room was narrow with a low-ceiling, with a bare stone floor that ran for about two feet in length before suddenly dropping into a long but shallow pit. Long ago, the pit had been used for drainage, excess sewage would overflow out of the main tunnel, pour into the side room, fill the pit, and then be drained away once things were calmer.
But the drainage pipe had been blocked over time by a build-up of hard waste, allowing only MOST of the water to get through. The result was a dense, sludge-like mass of rotting plants, dirt and fecal matter, high enough that it reached the edge of the concrete platform, threatening to spill over if any more was added.
âWOOK!â Smarty declared proudly. âNUMMIES!â
He waddled to the edge of the pit and scooped up a big mouthful of the dark brown sludge, recoiling at the taste, but being too hungry to think about it at the time. Other fluffies approached to do the same, until one particularly fat mare, with pale pink fuzz, pushed her way past them all.
âBestest babbeh go fiwst!â The mare insisted, prodding and nudging all other ponies out of the way, while pushing one of her foals forwards. The foal was a tiny thing, a pegasus with a deep purple colour, and it looked proud to have been picked as the bestest⌠but itâs pride vanished upon getting closer to the pit and seeing what lay inside it.
âMummah⌠dis smeww wike poopiesâŚâ It mewled quietly.
Suddenly, the penny dropped for the rest of the herd.
âDis nu nummies!â One of the herd protested.
âDis just poopies!â
âWha Smawty doin?!â
âSmawty finâ poopies, no nummies!â
Smarty was scared. Had he been⌠wrong?! No, no it was the herdâs fault! Dummy herd, they had made him get lost! Or theyâd disappeared the nummies somehow! Yeah, that was it, theyâd made the nummies vanish! It was all THEIR fault!
âDummeh hewd!â Smarty huffed, puffing out his cheeks, with an ugly smear of brown filth still coating the fur around his face. âWisten to Smawty! Smawty say he find nummies! Dis nummies fow hewd!â
âDis nu nummies!â One of the others challenged. âDis poopies! Poopies and wawa!â
âNu! Wisten to Smawty!â Smarty huffed. âSmawty founâ nummies! No mowe hungwies!â
âDIS JUST POOPIES!!!â Another pony squeaked, poking a grey-furred hoof into the wet brown substance.
âNu nu nu!â Smarty huffed, stamping his hooves on the ground with every word. âYoo wisten to Smawty! Smawty haf a pwan!â
âSmawty dummeh!â The grey pony insisted. âSmawty fink he so smawty, but he dummeh! Dummeh Smawty wed us to poopies!â
The rest of the herd began babbling and chattering. They were starting to agree⌠Smarty seemed kinda⌠stupid. Like, amazingly so, even for a fluffy pony. He had already eaten a whole mouthful of the watery sludge himself, and had he even NOTICED it wasnât food when heâd done it?
Smarty began to get scared. They were starting to DOUBT him! He was going to put a stop to that!
âDUMMEH HEWD! WISTEN TO SMAWTY!â He wailed, shrieking and flailing his stubby limbs around. âSMAWTY KNOW WHAH SMAWTY DOIN! DUMMEH HEWD JUST SHADDUP AND WISTEN! SMAWTY KNOW BESTEST! SMAWTY KNOW MOSTEST! SMAWTY HAF BIGGEST FINKY BITS!!!â
He continued to thrash, having a full blown tantrum in the middle of the sewer, when he briefly felt something bump against one of his legs, but then it was gone⌠and he heard a gasp.
âBABBEH!â The pale pink mare screamed. Smarty looked, and saw his flailing limb had bopped a tiny foal, the purple bestest baby that had been first for eating the poopies, it had still been sitting on the edge of the platform, and his flail had sent it tumbling through the air. It landed sitting upright in the pool of thick brown sludge with a wet âplopâ, immediately sinking until the waste covered the lower half of itâs body, already sucking hungrily at the remainder.
âMummah! Bestest babbeh in poopies!â The purple pegasus wailed, tears in itâs eyes. âNu wan be a smewwy poopy babbeh! Hewp babbeh, mummah!â
Meanwhile, itâs mama was on the edge of the concrete platform, hopping back and forth from foot to foot, unable to think of how to help. The baby was too far out into the sludge for the mama to reach on her own. If she tried to get her baby, sheâd have to step into the poopies herself⌠but it was POOPIES! No pony should touch poopies! They were nasty, smelly, horrible things!
But was her bestest babbeh worth the poopies�
âSmawty!â The mare wailed. âHewp mummah! Hewp mummah hewp babbeh! Whah we do?!â
Smarty thought about it. Then thought about toys. Then thought about spaghetti. Then briefly thought about the foal again. But then thought about toys again, then spaghetti again, then toys, then-
âSMAWTY!â The mare squeaked. The foal had begun to panic and was trying to make itâs way back to the platformâs edge, but itâs flailing limbs had only succeeded in pulling it down further into the filth, now it was three quarters deep, deep enough that itâs front legs were resting on the surface.
âShaddup dummeh mawe! Smawty FINKINâ!â Smarty said. Where was he? Oh yeah, toys! Toys were really nice, but as nice as spaghetti? Maybe not, but then againâŚ
âSMAWTY! HEWP BABBEH!â The mare wailed, tears pouring down her face.
âSHADDUP!â Smarty replied, bopping the mare on the nose with his hoof. The mare staggered backwards, and looked at her baby, who was still gradually sinking into the sludge. The rest of the herd were transfixed in horror, physically unable to help, mentally unequipped to process what was even happening.
The foal had sunk even deeper, now all that was visible was a purple head peeping out of the filth.
âMmmah!â It wailed, barely able to open itâs mouth anymore. âHep bubbeh! Bess-ess bubbeh⌠neeâ hep! HEP!â
Meanwhile, Smarty was still thinking. Toys were nice, yes, there were a lot of them and they were all very fun⌠but then again, spaghetti was also nice⌠but which one was nicer? Toys? Spaghetti? Special-huggies? Comfy beds? Hm, there were a lot of nice things⌠but as nice as toys? Or Spaghetti? Or toys? Or spaghetti? OrâŚ
The mare looked at her bestest baby, now neck deep in human waste⌠and dropped to the ground, covering her eyes with her hooves while the rest of the herd looked on in horror.
As the baby sank even deeper, it had just enough time to speak itâs final words.
âWhy mummah no hewp babbehâŚ?â
And then it vanished beneath the surface of the dense brown sludge. Seconds later, some bubbles
appeared on the surface, each one quietly popping in the eerie silence of the sewer.
Smarty came back to reality a moment later, blinking out of his thoughts of toys and spaghetti.
âDummeh mawe done cwying?â He snorted at the prone former-mama laying on the ground. She was too broken to even reply, her foalâs words ringing deep in her heartbroken soul.
âWhy mummah no hewp babbehâŚ?â
Smartyâs stomach gave a loud rumble, startling the herd.
âHewd! Smawty say we go dis way! Find nummies!â
The herd were silent and unmoving, too emotionally devastated and physically exhausted to argue anymore, but not wanting to make another terrible decision like the one that had just gotten a foal killed.
Smarty saw them hesitating, and got their attention again.
âAnymowe twoubwe, and YOO go in da poopies too!â He said to the herd, menacingly. Immediately the others woke up, quietly following Smarty out of the small, stinking room of death.
All except for the mama, who continued to lie on the platform. Part of her wanted to crawl into the sludge herself, face first, so she could stop thinking about her baby⌠but the rest of her was too shattered to move an inch. She couldnât even speak anymore.
Because her babyâs final words were still echoing in her mind.
Why DIDNâT she help him? Why didnât she even try? Why did she just sit and watch? Was the sludge so deep that she couldnât have survived in it? She didnât know, she should have found out, or maybe she could have jumped in and tossed her baby back to the platform, sacrificing herself for himâŚ
But she didnât.
She watched her own foal, her âbestest babyâ, her purple pegasus pride and joy⌠she watched him sink beneath the surface, and never once considered stepping in to help him.
âŚall because poopies were âickyâ.
And that thought had cost her the life of her child.
Left all alone in the small, stinking room, the mare silently began to cry.