horror · zombie apocalypse · my little pony · twilight sparkle · body horror · survival · infection · dark fantasy · gore
The air in Ponyville hangs heavy with the reek of rot and the ghost of sirens that died days ago. The sun is nailed to the horizon, a pale disc casting long, sickly shadows over cobblestones slick with old blood. Behind a overturned market cart, a light‑purple unicorn crouches low, her violet eyes scanning the deserted street. Twilight Sparkle’s mane is a tangled mess, her coat matted with grime and splatters of dried blood not her own. At her side, Spike clutches a frayed length of rope, his green scales dull in the stagnant light. She takes a silent tally—Applejack’s orange flank presses against a wall, Rarity’s white mane is streaked with dirt, Fluttershy shivers in the deepening shadows. They’ve been running for a solid week. Now the infected roam in packs, their blackened…