(To live or not to live)
It was the same, always the same. The door slowly opened on silent hinges revealing the same stone stairway, spiraling down into the nothingness. The stairs spiraled downward with stonewalls that had other ponies carved into it under a well-polished mirror like quality.
“Do you see that?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
The stallion cringed as his hoofs echoed off the cold stone as the ponies behind the polished surface began to whisper and snicker at him. Spell Squire hung his head down low, the navy blue and grey of his main obscured his vision as he continued down the stairs trying to shut out the voices of the stone ponies only make them talk louder. Soon the ponies started to jeer and yell at him about his… accident.
“Is that an earth pony?”
“Mommy, why does that pony have a broken horn?”
Mothers would push along their young whispering not to stare as he passed them by, ushering the child away a