This morning, I awoke in bright spirits. It had been only a couple days, but I was dying in anticipation! It was early in the morning- I gave my beloved a goodbye kiss, she told me to stay safe, and was on my way.

Today, I was given a swift reminder that just because things are going good… does not mean things will keep rolling forever.

I’d arrived at the college archaeology building, decked out in my usual hunting gear of four pistols, a cutlass, and a dagger, along with plenty of spare powder and ball. Just in case, I also had two molotov cocktails at the ready.

The fighting force was kept relatively small due- the threat was there, but we were hardly fighting an army. Most folks are scared shitless of the undead, for understandable reasons. Especially ponies, once again showing the problem of the herd mentality amongst the untrained. It is absolutely possible to train it out of them- the military proves as much. But I digress.

For the frontline, you had me, firing off my guns from a respectable range… and we had Heavyweight. He was all decked out in his leather pit-fighting gear, complete with a ‘20s style boxing helmet, with heavy studded iron horseshoes. Or would they be ponyshoes? Either way, he was wielding the pony equivalent of brass knuckles on all four hooves.

The strategy was simple- I go in guns blazing, while Heavyweight watched my ass. Not in like… a literal sense, mind you. He is gay, after all.

Get your dick out of the gutter, there’s work to do!

Behind us for extra support, in case things go to shit, we had Emmie and an old local veteran who happened to be a combat medic- a unicorn named Purple Cross. Both were wielding cutlasses, but would generally try and stay out of the way.

I asked him about his hippocratic oath, and he just shrugged. “Doesn’t apply to the dead.”

Good man, good man.

On the cart ride over, he talked about the Great Equestrian Hunts- that’s where he got most of his experience in.

A long time ago, the forests of Equestria were much, much more dangerous- full of chimeric beasts and other oddities that plagued the land since the reign of Discord. He was part of a task force whose sole purpose was to eliminate these threats- and as usual, at the time, the ecological consequences were poorly understood. For example- the local forests surrounding Aderleth were full of half pig half bird creatures, called the cockentrice.

Simply put- with no predators, their population exploded. So to combat this, the Crown was paying people commission to hunt and slaughter these creatures… and once that happened, the treeant- small ants made of wood- population exploded… the treeants ate local crops, and farms began to fail.

Ecological meltdown! The region around Aderleth is still recovering from that disaster.

I asked him if he regretted taking part in that mess… and he shrugged. “Eh. It paid well.”

My man.

Anyways, we finally arrived at the dig site. It was originally a large stone quarry- they’d found that tomb by sheer, dumb luck.

Naturally, the Provost of the college went up to the quarry owners and basically told them “I’m gonna pay you 100 bits to fuck off,” and they took the deal. Or, something like that.

We made our way down on foot and Emmie was telling us what to expect.

“Alright, so the first several chambers should be devoid of any activity- except perhaps a straggler or two. The creatures we’ll be fighting are… creepy… but otherwise, clumsy and dumb. Enough blunt force trauma will disable them by shattering their bones, and destroying their brains will straight up kill them… again.” Translation- Aim for the head. Loud and clear. I watched Day of the Dead when it came out- that shit was awesome.

As we passed the threshold, I said to Heavyweight- “I hope you’re not still hungover from the last time we met- things are gonna get loud.” I had a wicked grin on my face, and couldn’t help but cackle like a witch- the type of open mouth laugh that sounds like NYA-HAHAHAHAHAAA!

Heavyweight gave a much more sensible chuckle, sporting a dark grin on his face. “Here comes the Night Train!” He clacked his horseshoes together in anticipation.

I drew one of my pistols and cocked it with my offhand in a fanning motion. I was kind of bummed out, not even gonna lie- I’d designed a blunderbuss, but never got around to building it.

That shit would’ve been awesome for fighting zombies.

But alas.

The tomb we were walking through was… strange. The walls were made of strange, black brickwork with intricate carvings. Growing all over said walls and floor was a strange, white mold and a faint blue fog clung to the floor.

“Do you think this stuff is safe to breathe?” I asked, feeling… oddly unnerved. Emmie just shrugged. Fair enough.

Throughout the journey, Emmie was casting light spells, so it was never too terribly dark, thankfully.

Coffins lined the walls, some with just skeletons, some were mummified… all were griffons. The mummified ones looked… quite unusual. Their skin was a bald and sickly pale yellow. Their eyes were round, black voids. Most striking, however, were their beaks- which seemed permanently locked open, and were missing their tongues. Combined with their eyes, their faces were constantly molded in an expression of terror.

We slowly crept through the tunnels, unsure of what to expect. Urns littered the area as well- I checked a couple, and quickly gave up hope of finding anything valuable inside. Eventually, we came across a broken down wall- apparently, it was where the surveyors broke through.

We were all on edge, keeping our eyes peeled for anything and everything.

Just by sheer, dumb luck… one of them found us first.

YYEEEEEOOOOOOW! It screeched out a loud roar as it ran towards us, twitching like it was in immense pain.

BANG! A shot to the head stopped it in its tracks, causing it to plant face first into the ground. I wasted no time in reloading my pistol, tearing a cartridge out of my coat, pouring the powder then ramming the ball, and priming the pan. The process took about 20 seconds total… and I noticed something even more peculiar.

The creature was bleeding a thick, clear serum that looked like mucus. I looked over to the expert.

“Emmie… is this normal?” He just laughed a maddened laugh.

“I have no idea! I mean… I don’t think so, at least.” He clicked his tongue and pulled out a dagger- and literally cut the things skull open, revealing-

“Eyes!” he yelled out. Despite the bullet tearing through and turning the middle into a mushy pulp and blowing out the back… the things “brain” appeared to be full of, or perhaps made of eyeballs. “This may be a lot to ask… but do you think you could leave a couple alive? I’d very much be interested in studying these… fascinating things!”

I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “I didn’t realize you could be so… macabre.” I looked over to Heavyweight.

“Oy big man! If you wanna hold one down next time we see one, I’ll saw its legs off so it can’t go anywhere.” He simply smiled and nodded. Meanwhile, our medic, couldn’t give less of a fuck about the situation. Man was here to get that bread- and I could respect the hustle.

Why do I always find myself surrounded by lunatics?

We pressed forward- eventually coming across a wide, tall chamber with much, much more undead in it. I flapped my wings and hovered in the air, grabbing a pistol in my left hand.

Their screeches, combined with the ringing sound of gunfire, was almost deafening.

BANG! BANG!

BANG! BANG!

Four shots, four dead zombies. I’d learned the virtues of making my shots count a long time ago- when I still carried my Guardian Angel, I only had six shots to work with.

I landed, ducked and rolled, reholstering my empty guns and grabbing two more.

BANG! Another one down. I remember when Glocks first hit the scene, and they were all the rage. I wasn’t interested in no plastic junk, I told ‘em.

BANG!

I holstered my now empty right handed gun, drawing my saber. In the heat of the fight, I didn’t even know where Big Man went- but I wasn’t paying attention, either.

I thrusted with my sword, stabbing a zombie in the head with a sickening squelch. I took aim for another which was approaching-

BANG!

Just then, from my blindside, I was tackled by one of the zombies and dropped my gun. I held its body back as well as I could, but that fucker was HEAVY! I was trapped on my back and it was swiping at me with its claws and I yelled-

“YO! A LITTLE HELP!” Heavyweight came to my rescue, charging over and using his momentum to spin around, landing a solid buck right in the zombie’s side. I heard a wonderfully wet sounding crunch as he kicked it off me.

It was writhing on the ground nearby, its body near useless from the force of the blow.

“You alright?” He asked, as I took his hoof to let him help me up.

“Aside from the fact that I almost shit myself? Yeah, doin’ just peachy over here.” I quickly dusted off my coat and looked around- seeing that the threat had been neutralized. “I owe you a couple rounds at the bar, later. Fuck.” I went over and grabbed my fallen gun.

“Everyone alright?” I yelled out- Emmie was casually wiping the blood off his chest with a handkerchief and the medic was in the middle of lighting up a smoke. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

We decided to take a breather before moving on. I inspected my fallen gun for damage- and whined in despair as I realized the barrels’ finish was a bit scuffed. After that, we tied the still living… “living” zombie’s beak shut with a thick piece of cloth

We were all sitting on the floor in a circle- but still remaining on guard. The door to the next room was sealed- but you never know what could happen. I began the painstaking process of reloading my pistols when Heavyweight struck up a conversation.

“You weren’t kidding when you said things would get loud.” I just snorted.

“Right? Between the screeching fuckers and the rhythm of gunfire, my ears are ringin’ over here. It was fun as fuck, though.” Emmie, however, changed the conversation as I finished loading my last pistol and lit up a cigarette.

“I wonder what this wall art means?” He mused… and I admit, I was mighty curious as well.

Lining the walls were various strange depictions of griffons. Scraping away the mold painted a much clearer picture. The art style reminded me of medieval heraldry depictions of griffons… but somehow even stranger. The most prominent features were their impossibly long tongues which dangled from their mouths like a long, several foot strand of pasta.

In one depiction I noted, one griffon had its tongue seemingly licking another griffon, who happened to be reading a book. In one depiction- it seemed to be stabbing through the chest of… something that looked oddly familiar. Some sort of faceless, horned, bat winged demon.

And between it all, was a repeating motif of… insects? The fuck?

I remembered how the mummified corpses all seemingly had their tongues removed- and wondered why?

I don’t know- I wasn’t exactly a historian. Yeah, I enjoyed learning history… but this is entirely new territory, even for some of our scholars.

I just shrugged. I’ll leave the pioneering to the experts, thank you very much… or so I thought.

Once we were all rested, we moved on to the next chamber- I was smart this time, and actually decided to use the molotov as an opening move. I gave one to Emmie as well and we charged into the room and launched them. Whatever that strange serum was, it was evidently flammable- the zombies lit up like Christmas trees.

We made short work of them after that, with me really only having to fire off a couple shots and Heavyweight only crushing a couple skulls.

Once the room was cleared, we moved on to the massive iron door at the end of the hallway. I looked to Heavyweight and nodded. Using nothing but his brute strength, he slowly pushed the door open with a loud crrrreeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaak!

I whistled as we entered. There seemed to be no life in this chamber… but it more than made up for it in treasures. Both sides of the room were lined with tarnished gold sarcophagi, their lids all invariably popped. The mummified corpses looked much like the ones earlier- except these ones were wearing rusted old armor, dirty rags that might have been fancy clothes, and holes in their foreheads revealing empty skulls; their beaks still revealing a lack of tongue.

Whoever they were, they were important- and probably the reason this room was so well guarded. Even in death, the servants were loyal to their masters.

“I wonder if this was some sort of weird cult?” I mused to no-one in particular. But what really piqued my interest was at the end of the room.

Everyone else seemed distracted with all the other unusualities, So I made my way over.

On a raised platform lay a black sarcophagus that was, unusually, still closed up- in fact, an ancient rusted padlock and chains ensured it stayed that way. I gave the coffin a little shake, and heard no movement from inside. I knew for a fact that these zombies wouldn’t be smart enough to spring a proper ambush.

A couple strikes from the iron reinforced butt of my gun easily broke the rusty old thing and I threw the chains over behind the sarcophagus. I smirked and pushed it open slowly.

Thunk!

Whoever was buried here must have been important. Despite the age, his robes were dyed a crimson red, though it was nought but threads now. Beneath the tatters of the robe, I could see a sort of ornate armor. The king was wearing a crown of solid, rough iron, and…

“What the…” I mumbled to myself. There was… something in his mouth. Emmie was on the other side of the room talking to Heavyweight, so the light was a little dim. “Is that…” Something gold and shiny sparkled within his beak.

“A coin, perhaps?” I smirked, “Don’t mind if I do…” I reached for my prize.

Then I shrieked in utter terror.

It was most certainly not a coin.

It was an isopod-like creature, and it was climbing up my arm at lightning speeds. I was smacking myself all up my arm and chest in an attempt to kill it, shrieking like a baby.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK GET IT OFF GET IT O-HRK!”

OH GOD IT WENT IN MY MOUTH! I felt a sharp pain on the back of my tongue, and finally I was able to pull myself together, using my tongue to force the creature out.

I tasted copper but whatever it was, it laid dead on the ground, all mushy and covered in blood. I was breathing heavily and dropped to my flanks to try and catch my breath. I was shuddering and cringing fiercely.

“Ew, ew, ewwww… fuck, what the fuck.” I clutched my chest and found out that yes, my heart was still beating, and no, it didn’t burst like a balloon. I looked forward, and noted how all my companions were looking at me in abject horror.

“What? It’s dead now. Nothing to worry about… but fuck that scared the hell out of me.” I gave a chuckle, and I noticed how Purple Heart was looking at the dead bug laying before me.

You know, in all the excitement, I never stopped to consider what killed that bug.

I never bit down or anything- I would’ve felt a crunch or something. I was just so happy to have it out of my mouth, that it never even occurred to me that I should examine the things’ corpse. As if my brain were perfectly willing to accept things as they are.

Just move on… forget this ever happened… ignorance is bliss. Everything is perfectly normal now.

And indeed, it did feel quite normal. My tongue was moving around as it should, I was able to speak with no issue, and the spot that the creature bit me in didn’t even hurt anymore.

I trembled fiercely as I slowly looked down at the corpse. Everything in my mind was telling me not to- that I didn’t want to know the truth. It wanted to reject the reality that no matter what, would eventually have to accept. Even by looking in a mirror, I would know the truth.

That was no corpse on the ground. It was a tongue. A griffon tongue.

My tongue.

I shuddered fiercely, feeling like I was gonna be sick. On instinct, I stuck my “tongue” out- and with a wet sounding squelch, almost resembling a splash, my tongue grew. It was as though another arm had shot out of my mouth, completely filling my beak and preventing me from talking or screaming.

It was about five feet long and slimy, with a pointed end. It was a pale, sickly yellow color… and it was quite prehensile, I’ve found out. I was able to move it like any other limb with great accuracy.

I pulled it back in, and it felt and sounded like I was slurping up a long strand of angel hair spaghetti.

My eyes were crossed. I could barely form a coherent thought. Unable to process anything else… I just giggled.

“This… no, this isn’t real, Kyahahah! This is a nightmare! Just a weird, twisted nightmare! Wahaha!” I was muttering incoherently, wrapping my wings around myself in a sort of fetal position.

My world went dark after that. Presumably, mercifully… I passed the fuck out.

---

I woke up in my bed… and I smiled. It really was a fucked up dream. Thank fuck.

God, that was awful. At first I was excited to join my friends in the expedition… but I’m not going anymore. Fuck that.

I’d rather die than go back to that… that awful place. I don’t care if it was a dream… It felt so, so real.

I looked around my bedroom and realized that I must’ve slept in. That was fine by me, though.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the window and I just smiled. The door opened.

“Babe? Is that you?” I confirmed that it indeed was her- but she was giving me a wide eyed look, covering her mouth with her hooves. She then bolted over and pulled me into a tight hug where I sat on the bed.

“You’re awake!” I just cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I slept in… I hope Emmie isn’t mad at me for bailing.” she shuddered as she breathed and she turned to face me. Her eyes were red and puffy, like she’d been crying.

I looked towards the door and saw Emmie walk in… and a pit formed in my stomach and my pupils shrank.

Wordlessly, he handed me a hip flask and told me to drink. I made no argument, greedily sucking down the flask of… gin? Yeah, definitely gin. I took several deep breaths.

“It… it was all real, wasn’t it?” He nodded slowly. I laid my head back and sighed.

“Did… did you fix me?” I asked, a glimmer of hope in my eyes which was shattered instantly.

“Well, Purple Heart tried to cut it out to put your tongue back in place…” And just like that, a memory I shouldn’t have came flooding back to me.

---

“Mind’s Eye, keep the light steady.” I was seeing myself from the point of view of the doctor. We were still in the tomb and Emmie was using magic to keep my mouth open. I was definitely unconscious- I almost looked like a corpse.

He tugged on the isopod lightly. Heavyweight spoke up.

“It’s like that… that tongue eating louse that sometimes infects the fish in the region. They sever the fish’s tongue and functionally replace it… and apparently, it doesn’t really harm the fish.” That was… quite comforting, actually. Maybe… maybe I’ll be okay?

“I didn’t think they came that big, though… or could infect griffons, for that matter.” Emmie mused aloud.

The doctor used his magic to tug on the louse and brought in a scalpel…

And it did NOT like that. As if sensing the danger, my tongue extended to its full length, almost knocking him back. Before he could really react, the sharp end pointed at his face.

---

“And the parasite sprang to life… and sucked out his brain through his eye socket.” Both Emmie’s and Dee’s eyes widened.

“How did-”

“Do you remember that wall art? Of the griffon who was apparently licking that other guy holding a book?” He blinked his one good eye… Then gasped.

“That’s what that means! Those weren’t ordinary tongues in the art, they were parasites! And they weren’t licking each other, they were absorbing the others' knowledge!” He seemed excited at the revelation- and I can’t blame him.

“So a parasite that has the ability to… to eat intelligence has replaced my tongue?” I rubbed my temples. This is so fucked up. I sighed and asked, “What happened to Purple Heart?”

Emmie bit his lip and looked to the side. “Well… he signed the contract. He knew the potential risks. But surprisingly, it didn’t kill him…” I was about to ask him to elaborate, when he continued.

“He’s a vegetable, now. We’re still trying to figure out how it works…” He sniffled. “I… I’m sorry.” I cocked an eyebrow.

“Sorry for what?”

“For dragging you into this. This is all my fault!” He looked like he was about to have a breakdown. I looked down to my wife, and she nodded and moved. I gave Emmie a hug.

“It’s not your fault. Not by a mile.” He began to cry softly into my shoulder. I just did my best to comfort him.

“I-I promise that I will do everything in my power to fix this.” I patted him on the back.

“I appreciate you, bud. I really do. But don’t dedicate your life to me.” My smile fell slightly. “You want nothing to do with me in the long run, that I can assure.” He pulled back and put a hoof on each of my shoulders. He had an odd smirk on his face.

“We shall see about that, friend. Next semester, I’m changing my major to Occult Studies. Whatever’s going on here goes far, far beyond the natural means of reality.” I was about to speak up, but he kept on. “Mark my words, I will get to the bottom of this mystery… And I want you to promise me something.”

He gave me a maddened grin and lifted his eyepatch, which was damp with tears. His eye was… weird. The sclera was almost dyed red from how bloodshot it was, and I don’t think it’s from crying. And his pupil was even stranger- it looked like a cell in the middle of splitting, half gold and half blue.

“Whatever happens… if you ever return to the Griffon Confederacy, I want you to bring me along. I swear on both my eyes that I will find a way to fix this- and I’m willing to bet there may be more answers out that way.” I blinked twice… then smiled.

“Fuck yeah, bro.” In truth, I don’t know why I accepted. Perhaps it’s because I feared what would happen if I left him behind? I don’t know.

We went in for a tight hug, and he left not long after that. He was saying something about a particular book which is kept well guarded in the school’s library. Dee spoke up for the first time in ages.

“Why is it that you always seem to attract madmen and psychopaths?” I just shrugged in response.

Despite the initial terror, the situation… could be worse. My tongue was very clearly that tarnished gold hue, and I got a lot of strange looks for it… but mostly, the college kept the true nature of my tongue a secret.

It does come with downsides, though. I can’t eat out my wife anymore- or rather, she doesn’t want me to, understandably.

But that’s alright- she’s more than happy to dominate in other ways.

---

The greatest problem came later that night, I witnessed something so horrible that… well…

I’d woken up in the middle of the night- I was sleeping next to my wife like I normally do.

An odd smell hung thick in the air. “Babe, you up?” I shook her, but she was fast asleep. “Babe?” I asked, shaking her more vigorously. “I think there’s a gas leak or something, we gotta get outta here.”

Then I rolled her over. Her left eye was missing, a pool of black blood leaking from the socket. Her face was locked in a permanent expression of terror- but she was still breathing.

I trembled fiercely, refusing to believe my eyes. No… no no no!

“NOOOOOOOOO!” I shrieked in utter terror at what I’d done. I… I killed her! She was gone!

“BABE! WAKE UP!” I looked around on the bed and saw my wife looking at me with concern in her still intact eyes. “You were having a bad dream! Are you alright?” It felt so real.

I couldn’t tell her what I saw.

All I could bring myself to do was to sob meekly into her shoulder. I never, ever wanted to let go.

I mean, really, how would you react if a fucking louse stole your tongue and replaced it?

Though the parasite isn't that much of a hinderance... something tells me that the psychological trauma will stick with her for awhile. I hope she has good coping mechanisms :P

Also... here's the full Mind's Eye reference sheet. I wanted to keep the whole eye thing a bit of a secret, you know?

I also got one done of Leona! Featuring tongue!

Courtesy of https://twitter.com/MiniKrasnyy

Her comm's are open, btw :3

As always, thank you for reading! Likes and comments are always appreciated :3 Do let me know what you think- I had a blast writing this chapter :P