M4re Horror Story - 2

Oliver awoke to a burning sensation at the tips of his fingers. The pain of it roused him almost immediately, and he sprang up from the couch with his whole body erect. He pulled his front two hooves up and away from the cushion as the burning sensation grew.
In the back of his mind he unconsciously registered that he was a little pony. The thought passed out of mind as imperceptibly as it arrived, in the same way one might notice the lights in a room were on.
What did draw his attention and soon after his alarm, were the flecks of burning flesh materializing out of thin air around his hooves.
His breathing quickened as he held his hooves up to his eyes. Blood vessels and ligaments were coalescing out of thin air and anchoring themselves to the tips of his fingers as they floated in place around his hooves. More of the human flesh grew out of the embers which were slowly making their way down forming a pair of hands.
As the pain grew sharper, Oliver’s breaths became even more frantic.
No no no no no no no no oh god oh fuck why does it hurt so much
In a strange desperation he buried his newly forming hands under a pillow, but the embers of the transformation reverting him back to normal continued out of sight.
If he wasn’t already so panicked it might have helped.
As it was in the moment his tiny body shivered and seized up at the pain.
He successfully resisted the urge to scream out, but was unable to hold back the tears from his eyes.
The feeling of calm and comfort which had so soothed him through the first transformation was draining away from him as the process operated in reverse.
He pulled his hooves back out from under the pillow to find two fully formed hands encasing them. The embers of the transformation had begun to creep up his forelimbs, and as they did Oliver realized the flesh that was being formed was red and painfully cold.
The transformation was reverting his body back to the moment before he had taken the meds, frost bite and bruises all.
Wincing from the pain his old body was suffering, Oliver curled his body up and held his hands to his chest. There was nothing he could do, so in defeat he simply laid down as the changes ate away his ponybody.
Tears welled up in his eyes, but the almost paralyzing sensation of the transformation kept him from breaking down into a sobbing mess.
A minute or so into the reverse transformation, the embers reached the base of his wings. The moment the first one touched one of his feathers, the entire wing shot up, blooming for a moment in brilliant orange and reds before disintegrating into ash, and then into air.
Don’t, please don’t take them from me.
He heard his despair drenched voice whisper the words, pleading to some observing god to spare his wings from the reclamation. He didn’t know why, but losing them stung worse than the actual pain of his old flesh returning.
Whatever power presided over him did nothing to stop what had been set in motion.
As Oliver clutched his changing body, a strange sensation crept in behind the pain and panic at the front of his mind. It felt like he was slipping out of consciousness. It reminded him of being sedated at the dentist’s office to get his wisdom teeth out. He was falling out of the real world and into a delusion, helpless against it.
The feeling was all the stranger because he wasn’t actually losing consciousness, it only felt like he was. The calming and serene reality was being replaced by a dream- more like a nightmare- of him turning into some hairless ape.
More tears streamed down his face as he grimaced with internal terror at the experience.
Yet the transformation continued, gradually returning his old body back.
The side of him which had smacked against the ground under the overpass was excruciatingly painful, especially since the adrenaline of the night was absent.
Inside of his mind Oliver screamed for it to stop, repeating it over and over again. After five more minutes it eventually did.
Finally a naked, frostbitten and heavily bruised human lay on the floor of the dorm.

Everything felt distant, as though he was underwater.
The ringing in Oliver’s ears slowly died down, and the sounds of morning crept in.
With a moan which for a moment sounded alien to him, Oliver dragged himself over to his room. Light was pouring in through the blinds, and his phone was buzzing from two missed alarms. He had already missed a morning lecture, and had another one in a couple hours.
First things first he downed a couple painkillers from a little bottle he kept under his bed.
With a sluggish struggle, he managed to get dressed before collapsing at his desk. For a moment he sat motionless slumped over in his chair, but after two deep breaths he sat up and hit the power button on his laptop.
As it booted up his mind still felt fazed. The world was ephemeral, like he was still dreaming. As his fingers danced across the keyboard inputting a password, his limbs felt distant and numb.
To try and rouse himself from the miasma he slapped himself, but the stinging did little to help.
Without really knowing what he was doing he brought up google.
We should look into the effects of the drugs Tyler gave you, they were called mare or something like that.
His fingers obeyed the thought, and typed “Mare drug effects” into the search bar.
A small collection of news articles appeared.
Most of them merely made mention of so-called “medical impossibilities” with assurances that researchers were scrambling to understand it. There were no specific details over what those medical impossibilities were.
He scrolled down further until he began seeing blog posts. He clicked on one that claimed to be an FAQ about the drug. What looked like a geocities webpage sprang into view, the glaring whiteness of the screen making him wince from his headache.
Disquieting Times New Roman text came into focus, and Oliver felt a fascination stir in the pit of his stomach. At the top of the page a line of text boldly proclaimed

“WAYWARD SOULS AND LOST MIGRANTS, THE SALVATION OF M4RE AWAITS”

At least this should be an interesting read.
With a strange hunger Oliver poured over the webpage. The first couple paragraphs seemed to be prayers of some kind, but he had never heard of the gods they were directed at.
Below that, there was a list of the effects.
-Rapid Transformation of one’s physical body into that of a small pony*
-Pervasive sense of calm
-Heightened desire for physical intimacy
-An increased sensitivity to touch
-Dissociative sensations

Below the list there was a small footnote, followed by several blurry phone images of what Oliver recognized to be a transformed person.

*The body of the transformed appears vaguely equine, but resembles nothing living or extant on this world.

Beyond the photos the FAQ Finally appeared. Most of the questions were about safe dosages and fun things to do when you were transformed. They all seemed weirdly infantilizing or demeaning. A few more of the questions were about the specifics of the transformed bodies. Apparently there was a recorded gender ratio of one male for every nine female ponies, even among users who were male to begin with.
Oliver kept reading until he found a question about apparent “Lingering Effects”.

“After the transformed returns to their original body, certain symptoms may carry onward, sometimes for weeks afterwards. The most common of these symptoms is that of dissociation, where the user may feel like their sober life is merely a dream or a delusion.
Other more serious symptoms may be avoided simply by allowing a period of a few days between each transformation. If someone uses M4re more often than that, physical elements of their transformed body may be retained even after the end of the transformation back to their original body. These more serious symptoms are speculated to be able to be reversed given a long enough break from using the substance.
The most common of these symptoms is the retention of the hair and eye colour of the transformed body, over into the original body.”

Oliver tried to imagine his human body with the seafoam hair and yellow eyes of his transformed body. He would look straight out of a bad cosplay competition or an anime convention.
He checked through a couple more of the blogs, but none offered more information than the first. With a sigh he leaned back in his chair and mulled over what the blog had said. The dissociative sensations were a little less spooky now that he knew they were a normal side effect. The author of the first blog was clearly a nutjob of some kind, but at least it was a little interesting to read. Out of impulse Oliver brought it back up and looked around for an email.
Found it, Glitterveil@eqmail.com
He clicked over to his own email and began composing one to this Glitterveil. In the subject line he thought for a moment before simply filling in “Questions about M4re”.
He started off with a bit of thanks for the information on their webpage, before launching into a couple easy questions about how long they had been using M4re and if dosages affected the length of the transformation and to what degree. These were mostly to diffuse the weirdness of the last question. He felt silly even writing it. But his fascination had been piqued and there was nothing else to help it.
“Could you elaborate on the connection between the substance, and your prayers for ‘Migrants’ or whatever?”
Oliver paused for a moment before sending the email, judging himself for the strangeness of it all. He glanced over at his phone to see his next Lecture was now only half an hour away. With a heavy breath he shut his laptop and went about getting ready for the lecture. It was a twenty minute walk from his dorm so he really should get a move on.
What is even the fucking point, you are probably just gunna blow your head off in the next month. Why not lay back down and relax. What is even the fucking point-
With a great deal of effort Oliver forced the negative thoughts out of mind and walked himself out of his room. He locked the door behind him before turning around and continuing down the hallway. When he passed Tyler’s room though, he was unable to stop himself from noticing the door was slightly ajar. Tyler always locked his room. He must have forgotten when he woke up and left for class himself. Maybe waking up with a pony snoozing on the living room couch had thrown off his sense of habit.
It is in there, you know it is
Oliver tried to calm himself, rid himself of the self destructive urges.
The bottle is probably right there waiting for you
For a moment he remembered the bliss he had felt last night.
Just take a look, maybe he hid it away and it's not even there
He extended out a finger, and pushed gently on the door. It swung open another foot or so. Among the piles of books and binders, the still open prescription bottle of light blue pills sat on Tyler’s computer desk.
Oliver felt himself tense up, slightly losing his composure. His left foot began a rapid anxious bouncing as his mind tried to push him away from the open door.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” He whispered to himself.
I have class today, I can’t fucking miss it. I’m already struggling enough this term, if I miss any more I’ll be fucked. I can’t miss it- You’re already failing almost everything, why do you try so hard when you know you are a fucking failure already. Give in, let go. We can have some fun today instead of- I need to go to class I need to go to class I need to-
Oliver looked to the open prescription bottle. It was waiting there. He had already forked over enough money to probably pay for it twice over. It technically was already his.
I have taken on student loans, I have things I need to do, I need to go to class- If the loans ever get too bad you can always kill yourself! And in the meantime you can actually enjoy today. Don’t you want to do that? Don’t you want to enjoy yourself Little Pon-
“FUCK”
Without another thought Oliver surged forward. He nearly stumbled over himself as he seized the bottle and quickly rolled two pills out of it and onto his palm. They barely weighed anything at all. Oliver paused, and then a moment later popped the pills into his mouth already resolved to missing the lecture.
He swallowed them without the need for anything to wash them down.
After he did he stood dumbly in Tyler’s room, taking in the consequences of what he had just done. What normally remained a distant dread for his academic performance shot to the front of his mind. The disgust in himself which a minute before could have been put to some use finally reared itself, sending forth a flurry of admonishment.
Oliver walked out of Tyler’s room and closed the door behind him with a measured sloth before heading back to his room.
He slung his backpack off his shoulder and threw it into a corner, the textbooks and binders inside landing with a heavy thud. He set the bottle of M4re down on his bedside table and inspected the label closely for the first time. There was a newer label plastered over an older one, probably whatever non-horse-transformation drug prescription the bottle had originally carried, which had on it the name of the drug and some very basic information.
M4re really was a silly name for it. Way too on the nose.
He let himself fall back onto his bed as he felt the first whiffs of the comfort from the drug begin to well up inside him. He stared at the popcorn plaster ceiling and savoured the quiet mind in which he now found himself. The thought spirals stopped. The constant self hatred and petty little beratements silenced. He took a deep breath as he soaked up the moment, his head swimming in comfort.
When he felt the numbing glimmers of the transformation begin at the tips of his fingers, it was welcomed with gusto. Oliver felt himself shiver in excitement as the painless burning away of the old flesh began to manifest.
What is happening, what is becoming of me?
The transformation this time felt sweeter, maybe a little faster. It was almost as though he was leading it through the motions like a ballroom dance, the anticipation of the next element pushing the current one with an eager speed.
Whatever you are becoming, it is lovely
Already Oliver’s wings slid out of his shoulder blades. In a single action he flexed the remembered musculature from before with enough force to expel both of the nascent wings from his back. An orgasmic catharsis fell over him as he relaxed and allowed the rest of the transformation to transpire. The caress of his painless rebirth lulled Oliver into a trance, and he could feel what seemed like a gentle wind upon his face.The sensation carried with it a feeling of utter freedom and joy.
If he wasn’t almost completely engulfed in bliss, he might have found that strange.
The motes of flesh rising off of Oliver were coming off in such a fast pace it felt almost like he was being consumed and reformed in some crucible of fire. The frost bite and bruising which had remained sore were simply erased as the new flesh took the place of the old.
After five minutes, the transformation burned away the tip of his right ear and he was left laying on his bed, now returned to the same state he was in last night, sans the mild panic.
The affairs of university and even of regular life suddenly felt as distant and irrelevant as the happenings of an obscure and distant land.
Everything was okay.
Everything was exactly right.

The sun was setting as Tyler made his way back to his dorms. His science lab had been a struggle, and the hefty lab manual doubled the weight of his backpack by itself. He still had hours of work to complete, but he was eager to return to the relative solitude and comfort of his dorm.
As he inserted his key into the door he was surprised and slightly annoyed to find it was unlocked. He had told Oliver time and time again to-
There was someone in the dorm. He could hear them moving around making sounds. Oliver had class right now so some random person must be fucking rifling through their room. Tyler’s hands balled up into fists and he pushed open the unlocked door.
“Whoever the fuck is in here you have one chance to explain what you think you are doing before I call campus security.” He called out to a seemingly empty room.
First two blue ears poked out from behind the coffee table in the living room, and then a little pony peered up above the table and gave a startled look to Tyler. It was the same pony from last night.
“Oliver what the fuck are you doing here? I thought you had class starting like… twenty minutes ago why are you a fucking pony?”
The little pony was confused for a moment before a look of recognition flashed on its face. In a whimpering voice Oliver replied,
“I.. I wasn’t feeling up to it today, so I just um… I figured I would enjoy some more of-”
Tyler raised his voice in reprimand.
“You didn’t even lock the door, what if someone fucking saw you? You realize this could get me in trouble too right? Especially if after they realize you’ve taken some hard drugs they search our dorm? Jesus fucking christ.”
Oliver looked down at his hooves and gave a pathetic sounding sorry.
Tyler felt the start of a stress headache creeping into his head.
“Just, be more careful please. And at least try to fucking pass this semester or I might have to deal with another roommate after they boot your ass out.”
He couldn’t believe Oliver sometimes. Ever since they first moved in he had struggled with even the most basic functions and schedules of school. Tyler supposed it wasn’t really his business, but having Oliver stumble into the dorm at 3am frostbitten to hell, or pony’d up on drugs when he should be in class sort of threatened to make it his business.
He tried to put it out of mind and instead went to fetch himself some cereal. It wasn't much of a meal, but he felt too lazy to cook up some pasta. Maybe later tonight he would have frozen pizza, but for now some good old fruit loops would suffice.
As he poured himself a bowl, he felt something tug on his pant leg. He looked down to see Oliver next to him, looking up with impossibly big eyes.
“Could you pour a bowl for me too please?” Oliver asked in his feminine pony voice.
Tyler gave an exasperated sigh. He was too tired for this. Without any fuss he pulled out another bowl and filled it with the fruit loops. He then picked up his own and began walking to his room. He stopped when he heard the scratching of hooves on the cabinets as Oliver struggled and failed to reach up to the countertop.
For a moment he considered leaving Oliver to his fate, but he wasn’t that cruel.
“Need help?” He said with a patronizing glint to his voice.
Oliver turned his head and nodded while looking like he was about to cry.
What a dramatic little bitch Tyler thought to himself.
He took Oliver’s bowl and set it down on the ground. The little horse, which was getting increasingly difficult for Tyler to recognize as his moody roommate, picked up the bowl in it’s mouth and trotted over to the living room couch.
With an agile jump he landed on top of one of the cushions before calling out to Tyler.
“If you want to have something in the background while you work you could sit with your laptop as we have some TV on quietly.”
Tyler mulled it over. He usually needed some radio or lofi playlist in the background while he worked on school shit, and the couch was comfier (if way worse for his posture) for typing. With a shrug he grabbed his laptop from his room, noticed the absence of the M4re he had left on his desk the night prior, and sat down next to Oliver on the living room couch.
“So I noticed you went into my room and fetched yourself some more of your horse skittles. Do you have a spare key or something?”
Oliver set his bowl down on the cushion in front of him.
“You left your room unlocked and slightly open in the morning.” He answered nonchalantly. He then lowered his muzzle or snout or whatever it was into the bowl of fruit loops.
Tyler watched in horror as his roommate ate from the bowl like he was a dog. After a couple seconds of staring he pulled his gaze away from the little pony next to him and pulled up a document for school on his laptop. As he skimmed through the assignment, he began eating from his own bowl of loops.
“I would appreciate it, if you didn’t fucking go into my room in the future. Ever.” Tyler said with no small amount of venom.
Oliver seemed unfazed by the severe tone, and answered through a mouthful of cereal.
“I only went in to get the M4re which I've already paid you for. Now that I have it I promise I’ll never go in your room again.”
Tyler wasn’t entirely satisfied, but let the issue drop. Really so long as Oliver never went into his room again then there was no real problem.
He continued scrolling through the assignment before finding an online worksheet that he had to fill out. In the background Oliver fumbled with the TV remote and managed to get some cartoons playing quietly.
For half an hour the two roommates sat comfortably eating their fruit loops.
The worksheet was easier than expected, the answers and paragraphs of explanation flowing effortlessly from Tyler’s fingers. As he filled out the last answer he slumped backwards and let his head fall limply to the side. He only had some readings to complete and he would be done for the night. His relishing was interrupted when he felt something soft sit itself down against him.
Oliver had taken it upon himself to lay himself down right against his thigh.
Tyler felt a little weirded out by his roommate’s touch hungry disposition.
“Oliver what… what are you doing there bud?”
The little pony blushed and avoided making eye contact with him.
“I um.. I saw you had finished what you were working on, so I um… I thought um you might want to um, maybe um pet me or like, maybe just a few scritches.”
The creature that was asking for pets from him seemed so alien and detached from the moody loner he knew Oliver as. In a way that made it seem less strange. It was probably just a side effect of the drugs Oliver had been indulging in. Tyler had enough experience babysitting junkies that some petting was a rather mundane request to him.
He raised up his left hand and set it down over Oliver, before gently scritching his scalp. Just like last night it seemed to quiet Oliver into a blissful little daze. As he scrolled through the reading material on his laptop with his right hand, his left absentmindedly scritched and petted the little pony nestled next to him.
He had always been great with animals, and appreciated their company more than he liked the company of most other humans. Oliver’s presence was not only tolerable in this form, it was quite comforting. More like a therapy dog than some depressed university student.
The two of them sat on the couch all throughout Tyler’s required readings and then some half an hour past it. Oliver had been mostly quiet save for the occasional sharp inhale or murmur of unintelligible delight.
Finally Tyler unceremoniously stood up and gave a final pat to the top of Oliver’s head.
“Have a good night Oliver, try to actually make it to class tomorrow okay. Having you drugged out in the dorm all the time is not the best use of your university days.”
The little pony shrunk a bit in shame.
“I'll try.”
The tone was the familiar hopelessness Tyler had grown to expect from Oliver. It was strangely reassuring to hear it coming from the blue mare. As he turned away and took a step towards his room Oliver cleared his throat and spoke up.
“Hey um, It feels a little weird having you call me Oliver when I’m like this. Would you maybe consider calling me something else?”
Unease penetrated deep into Tyler.
“No Oliver, I won’t.”
He quickly turned his back to his roommate and shut the door to his room with a sure force.