“Night Mare Moon’s hoof, where is it?” the mare riled up a curse as best she could. She was in search of a bolt of fabric down in the basement. An extremely dirty and dusty basement at that. She pushed aside the hard plastic case with her Hazmat suit inside it, toppling the already visor to the floor to send glass shards over it’s surface. Months ago the glass panel had been replaced, but not disposed of. Now she would have to deal with it.

But that would have to wait. Twilight wanted a couch recovered and that meant she had to dig out that horrible fabric she had passed off to her. The two tone vomit green striped fabric. Twilight didn’t have a good taste in style, thus the reason that the fabric was in the basement. Such a monstrosity should be nowhere near her pristine and carefully constructed masterpieces of textile. It was down here, but where was the question.

Methodically the basement had been searched, except the small alcove. Rarity pushed the door open and trotted into the small room. The shelves were lined with plastic bags of fabric bolts, all of the… ‘Glorious’ find Twilight had made during their trips around Equestria. Yes. In the dark dank room where no pony would ever find them. Unfortunately she did and turned a nose as she lit up her horn and peered through the clear bags, stomach churning at various fabrics tucked away. Though the eyesore fabric wasn’t there, she did have plenty of stockpiled ones that were equally disgusting. She may have to have a bonfire someday…

Rarity was about to admit defeat, though the effort to find Twilight’s nausea inducing fabric was miniscule to begin with. Before she backed out of the room, her lit horn cast a light at such an angle to bounce off a brilliant mental tucked away in the corner. She raised her eyebrows, as there shouldn’t have been anything shiny in this room. But lo and behold, buried behind a stack of fabric was a chest.

‘Odd.’ She mused, having never remembered purchasing a chest of this variety or even storing it down here. The box was edged with a brilliantly polished brass with floral accents set over a a dark wood. Lighter inlays down the center gave the chest a two piece appearance. On the front was a key hole and instinctively she began to reach inside with magic to open the tumbler. Immediately she received a jarring shock that pulsed through her horn and down into her spine. Jumping back several inches and rubbing her horn with a hoof she breathed out a sigh of relief. A magically locked lock, a bit of arcane magic bathed the chest in a cool blue hue. Such a spell would keep the contents safe inside. Twilight could open it though, she knew more about these kinds of spells than she did.

However no such spells were necessary, as she walked around the chest and spied a skeleton key stuck to the rear of the chest with a small magnet. Odd, she wouldn’t leave such a key laying around. Perhaps it was for the best, as the whereabouts of any key at the moment baffled her. With a sigh she smiled and slipped the key into the chest where she would no doubt find the nauseous fabric. As the key was turned the chest made a soft beeping sound, indicating that the spell had dissipated and was ready to open. Rarity gulped light as she lifted the lid and peered inside.

The contents of the chest, well the best way to describe it, exploded outwards. The mare closed her eyes just in time as her face was spattered with a thick liquid. She screamed out in surprise and the liquid made it’s way into her muzzle. Turning away and sitting on the floor she sputtered and wiped the stuff from her muzzle, tears forming as she realized that another bath would be required, wasting more shampoo on a rude joke.

“What pony-” she spat the liquid out “would ever do such a thing!”

The liquid had a high tinge to it, piercing her nose like needles and lingering in her throat. Whatever the liquid was, it stuck to her fur like nopony’s business, it was even worse than mud. Rarity wiped her eye clean and sat back up to find a towel. She moved away from the chest and was instantly pulled back.

“What in the…” she turned back to see that the goo had stuck itself to her rear. She grimaced and batted at the strands that hung off her bottom, they merely bounced her hoof off as if they were elastic. Her muzzle angered and she fired up a pulse of magic to cut them but only felt another shock down her spine. Her magic was still stiffed from the lock’s spell. “Great, now I’m stuck.”

Abruptly she was pulled off her hooves, causing her head to strike the ground and stun her for a few seconds. She felt the chest touch her tail and then her rear hooves were lifted from the ground. Still stunned, she was confused at the evens unfolding. The goo was reeling her into the chest flank first.

Her senses came back after she felt the warm pool inside the chest envelope her tail and backside. Whatever it was, the intent of this stuff was not good.

“SWEETIE BELLE! HELP!” she screamed out in desperation as the chest pulled her further and further into the pool inside. She grasped feebly at the chest in an attempt to gain any purchase and stop the descent into the bowels of the box. The goo was slippery and any headway she made out of the box was rescinded and it achieved it’s goal of bringing her inside.

The lid swung shut on the mare and even from inside she was able to hear the dull beep as the magic spell re-locked it. The goo let go of it’s hold and became a thick mass again. Rarity grunted and began to push at the lid of the box, drawing tendrils of the liquid as her hooves surfaced. The only thing she did was push herself further down into the muck. The inside of the chest stunk of the liquid that filled most of the box, she barely had enough room to keep her head above it. The walls were completely smooth and pressed in to the touch, padded in some way. She felt around the box for some escape and felt something in the mass of goo and brought it to the surface.

Even the obscured shape didn’t help her stay calm, she was holding in her hooves, the key to the box. It must have gotten stuck to her when she was being pulled inside. With less calm she began to pound at the interior, her muscles screaming in agony as moving in the molasses sludge required extraordinary effort. She had to get out, the air was already getting stale.

The liquid came to life again, whipping up tendrils that wrapped themselves around her hooves and muzzle. Rarity screamed out as they wrenched tight and began to submerge her into the liquid. She caught a muzzle full of the goo and tried to spit it out, blubbering against the mass as it dragged her under. She only filled her muzzle and throat with the stuff as she screamed her last as her head was pulled under the surface leaving bubbles to slowly float to the surface.

Under the liquid she struggled against he unseen force. Holding her breath as long as possible she fought to get to the small pocket of air at the top of the chest. This proved futile as the entity seemingly wanted her to drown. As she spasmed to suppress a cough from the liquid in her throat the fluid around her submerged body warmed up. Her entire body felt as if it were being compressed by an invisible force.

She screamed out in agony, the compression over every inch of her body pushed the torrid air from her lungs and then she gasped, drawing the goo inside. Rarity lost control. The inrush of liquid into her lungs made her thrash about wildly with her slowed limbs. More and more her chest heaved and filled her lungs.

The rush of adrenaline wore off and her limbs felt like lead, responding less and less to her muscles and stiffening up. Tears couldn’t make their way out of her encased form and just pressed against her eye lids. She curled into a defeated ball and waited for death.

Death never came, just a mountain of pressure over every inch of her body. Fearing the worse has passed, Rarity tried to move but soon found every part of her stuck curled up. Kicking out did nothing, calling upon her magic did nothing. Whatever had happened to her made her immobile. She tried to call out, but the liquid inside her throat and lungs had solidified and they stopped moving minutes ago. Her heart had stopped beating like a jackhammer and even though it felt like her entire body was in a mercilessly tight corset, she was comfortable floating in the liquid.

Soon the floating feeling left her and was replaced with a light suction on her back and rear hooves tucked under her stomach. Greatly confused as to why she couldn’t move and was still alive even though her lungs were full of hardened good she wriggled in her confine and found herself stuck fast.

From the box emerged a Rarity, perfect in ever way. The real Rarity could feel, see, smell and hear everything the entity did. It even had her voice, telling her in time they would be one and she wouldn’t even care that her real self was cocooned tightly. And the day she stopped trying to escape, she would gain control of this… copy.

They would be one, the copy and Rarity, memories and bodies. Together in symbiosis. They wouldn’t care about the mare in the basement…