Author's Notes:

Book horse won the poll on who is coming next. This is just a short one, I promise.

A fraternity brother of mine once found a Youtube playlist entitled 'important cancer' and I'd like to think this story would qualify for a position there.

Also it's Memorial Day. God Bless the Troops.

You groan softly as you try and move your limbs. You are barely even able to wiggle them, and what little motion you are able to instill in them is enough to inform you that they are incredibly sore. Wincing, you open your eyes.

You are most definitely not in your bedroom. It’s fairly dark where you are, but while squinting you are able to make out strange, organic shapes present in the architecture of the room.

Craning your neck to look at your hooves, you find that they have been adhered to the black wall by some sort of sticky, green substance. You’re really not sure what is going on, but you are comforted by the fact that you’re alive and apparently in no immediate danger.

You take a few moments to compose yourself, taking deep breaths. It is during this time that you notice that for whatever reason, the room is incredibly humid; your coat is already starting to get damp just from exposure to the air.

Feeling a bit stronger, and unable to wait aimlessly any longer, you clear your throat. “Hello?” You call. “Helloooo?”

“Oh good, you are awake,” a booming voice responds. “I was afraid that I had killed you on accident.”

Looking toward the source of the noise, your eyes widen as a tall, black creature rounds a corner and enters your vision. She looks vaguely like a pony, but the crystalline wings and porous limbs reveal that her appearance is deceiving.

“Well, I mean, not on accident, persay,” she revises, grinning devilishly at you as she continues to slowly approach. “I do hurt ponies rather often, but it wouldn’t have been ideal for you to die, in this case.”

Your eyes suddenly widen in understanding. This must be the changeling queen, Chrysalis! You saw her picture in a copy of the Canterlot post, once. In that photo she had looked sleek, confident, and intimidatingly alluring.

Looking at her now, she appears a little ragged and particularly skinny. She’d really let herself go downhill.

“However, now,” she continues her monologue, drawing close enough to boop your muzzle threateningly, “I shall suck every last drop of love from your body and leave you an empty shell!”

She laughs evilly for a few seconds, before the cackle devolves into a hacking cough.

To ask Queen Chrysalis to turn down the humidity, proceed to Chapter 1.

To cower in fear before Queen Chrysalis, proceed to Chapter 2.

To enthusiastically jump at the opportunity to get a small spark of romantic company in your otherwise sad and lonely existence, proceed to Chapter 3.