A Human Work [MLP:FiM]

A Human Work

Chapter I

He waked up in the darkness. He felt sore and cold. Even like this, he could make out the shapes of trees and saw the branches and trees stirred in the wind. And above it all, the white glass moon. Confusion and terror raged around inside of him, condensing into panic that was running towards its breaking point. His breathing turned uneven. It hurt to take a breath.


He didn't understand. He didn't understand at all. Yesterday had been like always, and he had gone to sleep like always, so why was he here now, in a forest? He should be in his house. Yes, he should be in his house. There was no meaning or reason for him to be in such a place, at such a time, so it didn't make sense.


He tried to tell himself he was still dreaming, but he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. Because this would be a dream. His view, the feeling of the wind, the wet ground below him, the muddy sensation all over is clothes. These things couldn't be a dream. They were too real.


He stood up. The muddy soil had stuck to his clothes, so they clung to his skin. It was messy and uncomfortable and he wanted to just rip them apart. That was what first went through his head, but he pushed that impulse down. It didn't make sense, it didn't make sense, it didn't make sense. Nothing about this made sense. So if this was reality, it had to make sense. With that in mind, he started walking forward. A meaning, a reason. They had to exist somewhere beyond this darkness.


The wind was very cool, and it blew strongly. But he didn't felt cold. He was feeling a nauseating heat, and not even that felt real. He walked on, half-sleep, half-awake. Not quite alive. The sound of his heartbeat was pounding in his ears, drowning out everything else.


He looked around wildly as he walked. A shadow streaking across the trees, something stirring behind the bushes. The croaking of a frog, the howl of what was probably some dog. The chirp of a bird. Even the breaches, rocks and the ground cracking under his feet. He jumped at every shadow, unable to stop himself, even though he felt it was silly of him. Because… because nothing could be out of there. Because it couldn't happen to him. Because...


(he wasn't going to disappear)


He had been walking for a long time. He couldn't quite tell how much. More that ten minutes, but after that, he didn't know. An hour? Two? Either way, he didn't seem to get any closer to the outside. And rather that finding light, the darkness all around him only seemed to grow deeper. It was only his imagination. Of course it was. But he still felt unsettled.


Quickly, quickly, quickly. He had to find his way home, or a t least find another person. His pace quickened. It seemed to go at rhythm with the frantic beating of his heart. He heard strange sounds behind him that his mind refused to identify. He didn't slow down. He didn't look over his shoulder, either. He didn't quite understand that why, but he felt like it would be the end if he did so, so he just pushed kept pushing himself.


Despite how long he had walked, he hadn't felt tired. Not really. But soon enough his legs started to burn, and not too long after his chest heaved with each breath. It didn't take much for the only thing that was keeping him to be the sounds from behind him, which were running footsteps and that they were getting closer and closer.


He had been lucky. Despite the darkness, despite his hurried pace, he had gone through the forest without slowing down like it was nothing. But, he lost that luck at that instant. He hit something he hadn't been able to see, and lost his balance. He fell like an idiot to the ground, on his head. It hurt. He thought his nose might… no, it was definitively broken.


He scrambled to his feet, but he fell down again, on his knees. He just couldn't kept his body outright. And to make matters worse, he had twisted his ankle. The eager panting behind him made the hairs at the back of his neck raise. He was trembling all over. He didn't think he could run, even if he managed to gather enough strength to stand up. His mind white from the fear, he turned his head back. Towards the final darkness.


It was there. A large black dog, bigger that him, rushing towards him. Its mouth was open. Its sharp teeth glistered under the moonlight. It was… coming… coming to… kill him. Yes, that was it. He scrambled back desperately, even though he couldn't run away. Even though there was no chance of him getting away.


“Don't come near me!” his panicked, broken voice echoed and vanished in the darkness of the forest.


The dog didn't listen, of course. Even if it would have understood, it wouldn't have listened. Because he could clearly see blood lust shining in those red eyes. When it came close enough, he lashed out without thinking at the animal, desperate to protect himself. He tried to punch in the head. But he missed. He pitifully missed, and not only that. The black dog dug its teeth through his shirt, and the skin of his arm.


He screamed. He screamed, but not out of pain, but surprise. That… that was strange. The dog was gnawing on his arm. Its bite had made a deep wound, and its movements were only deepening. A lot of blood flowed out. The blood stained the dog's head, and also, obviously, entered its mouth. The wound itself looked horribly twisted. But there was no pain. No pain at all.


Something clicked in his head. Like a switch. This was a dream. Yes, without a doubt. This was dream this was a dream this was a dream! And he, no matter how scared he had be, was this dream's master. So he could do anything. Concentrating on the feeling inside of himself, he grabbed and pulled it out.


A rushing wave of energy. It hurt. It hurt a lot, as if whole body was burning and that wasn't right, but the dog got blow away from him. But the wave took apart its body, and it was also split in half. He stared. The huge amount of blood, the four scattered extremities and its body, cut in half. He stared at the scene of carnage. He stared and, finally… feeling relief for the bottom of his heart, he started to laugh.


Good. That dog had been a real eye sore, it was good to see it disappear. Its remains were also an eye sore, but he enjoyed seeing it. Because it meant he had crushed it. Because it meant that he had killed the thing the thing that terrified him so much and had nearly killed him with his own hands. It was… satisfying, but even that couldn't quite cover it. He felt at peace. He felt certain nothing could hurt him anymore.


He stood up, conscious of the blood staining his clothes, mixing with the mood. But he didn't really care. That was proof, too. Proof that he was strong.


He walked through the forest without fear, feeling a lightness in his chest that he hadn't felt for many, many years. He could get used to this. It had started badly, but now it was nice. Not waking up ever again, staying in this dream where he was strong, would be even better. Yes, it had been so fulfilling… so he wanted to experience that feeling again.


He wandered in search of prey. He wandered in search of something to squash like a bug, because everything in this world was a bug compared to him. He was the one in control here. Idly, he noticed that the plants were strange, nothing he had seen before. But he didn't pay it much attention. After all, this was a dream.


He eventually got out of the forest, though he was so lost in his thoughts that he couldn't even guess how much time it had taken. Minutes? Hours? It was still night, though. He saw it. He felt himself smiling. Six. That many ponies or whatever were right in front of him, and coming to his direction. That would be nice. He would quite like to heard them scream. No, better yet. He would make them beg for their lives before he ended it all, anyway.


He approached them. He walked slowly, as if dragging his body, savouring the moment in his head. He heard himself laughing beneath his breath, and his body started to tremble lightly out of excitement. A pink haired whatever-it-was saw him, started trembling and fainted. Didn't matter. It would wake up when the pain started. A whistle.


“You're a mess.”


“All that blood...” it shallowed. “What is it, anyway?”


“We have to help it.”


“Yeah, it might even have seen what we're looking for.”


“Or it might be it.”


“That too.”


He stopped. They… they were talking? That was no right. They weren't supposed to talk. They had to be empty dolls in which he could take out all his bitterness and anger and hate, empty dolls to toy with as compensation for how he scared he had been before. But they were talking. And he could understand them. As if they were sapient. And if they were sapient, somebody like himself, then… wasn't it a crime to hurt them? How would hurt them make him any better that those people?


He took a step forward. He didn't know why; he hadn't even thought of moving. A sudden dizziness hit him, and he couldn't kept his balance anymore. He fell to the ground, flat on his back. He let out a gasp. He heard panicked shouts, but only the sound of the words, and even that was fading. His vision slowly grew darker, and the last sight he saw before he passed out was the glass moon overhead, reigning over the heavens.

Chapter II​

He was seeing an unfamiliar dream. He was in the darkness, and he couldn't move his body. He didn't have a sense of his own body, to begin with. Like he was just a soul now, away from its body. But there was a sense of something… something more. Something beyond the darkness. There was something indeed, but he wasn't sure what. He could only see glimpses, and that didn't provide anything concrete.

He was slipping, slipping. Into the deepest darkness. Inward and inward. His consciousness caught a view from outside his prison, this deep limbo. The clear blue sky and green grass. The animals talking and lived and laughing and smiling when he was here, like this. And for what? He remembered. He remembered well, suddenly, though a second ago he couldn't have said who he was nor what had happened.

Since he was young, he had been a bright, curious thing. His everyday was a battle against boredom, and he wished to share that happiness with everybody else. Chaos was the word imprinted on his soul, so he couldn't help it. He livened up their existences, full of monotony and routines, because he loved them. He loved the world and every single living thing it in and he wanted to give them happiness.

Living on stagnantly, as if their way of life was enough… that wasn't happiness. They didn't understand, but he swore to make them understand no matter how much e he had to try. And he tried. They showed annoyed reactions, but he understood that they felt better that ever before. Because the chaos was filling the emptiness they had inside. Life was a battle against that void, and he was doing his best to help everybody with it.

But they came. Them. The sisters, the princesses. They didn't understand him at all, not what he was doing. They came filled with uncalled for hate and anger because they believed him to be evil. No, they wanted him to be evil. Because they didn't want to understand the void, they didn't want to understand that their lives were worthless and the breakdown of order was the only thing that gave life its meaning.

They left him in this prison, where he was only a soul. Where he wasn't death but alive and wouldn't know anything else, and his soul boiled inside of him, feed on himself, because chaos was the word imprinted on his soul and he was going against that nature. It hurt. It hurt so much, to not been able to do what he was meant to do. His anger and resentment had only festered.

But now…

Now, he had got his hands on an outlet.

And soon, he would been set free.

Chapter III

He suddenly woke up. It was so abrupt that, for an instant, he wasn't sure if the dream had ended. He let out a breath. How scary. Everything in his dream, but especially the end of it. Those sensations, those feelings, so intense they had felt like they were his own. Compared to that, his daily life didn't seem all that scary.

He couldn't believe it, that he had dreamed such a dream. He wasn't a person like… like that. He was willing to defend himself- obviously, that didn't even need to be said- but enjoy the suffering of something that had hurt it and, not only that, looking to cause ten times that suffering to other living things with his own hands? No, it wasn't like that. He refused to believe than dream had been a desire of his, in anyway. It had been simply a nightmare for start to finish.

He opened his eyes, a shaky smile on his face, and… froze. It was clear enough to see that this wasn't his room. To begin with, the ceiling was made of wood. And there was a window at the side of his bed. There shouldn't be any window there. Beyond this, he could heard the sound of numerous animals as if he was in farm. He wasn't close to a farm or anything. He lived in a city.

He sat up. His vision swayed twice in front of his eyes, and he had to use his right hand as support to not fall. He gasped out. He closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself down. He was feeling a hellish nausea, as if his organs had come up his throat. He put his free hand over his chest, and clenched the thin fabric of the shirt. He spend some time trying to calm himself down and, when he though he wouldn't puke, opened his eyes again.

This wasn't his room at all. It hadn't been an illusion or something, and he definitively wasn't dream. All right. That also much meant that everything that had happened was. All right, all right. It had passed already, so there was no harm in it. Yes, no harm in it. As long as he went away. As long as he could be safe. So he had to get out of here. He had to get out of this place and to somewhere where he wouldn't be hurt again.

He got out of the neat bed. His right arm throbbed with pain, and he looked down, wondering how bad is wound was. There wasn't even a trace of it. Phantom pain. That was what it was. Of course. A big black dog had chased him around and nearly killed him. He would remembered that forever. His body would remembered that forever.

He took a step forward, and nearly fell. He had to grab the night stand to not fall off. For how his legs were, they might as well be asleep. The tiredness he could felt was unnatural wrapping him was unnatural; it was like something was pushing him down. Then again, nothing about this situation was natural, so it wasn't much of a surprise. But it was fine. He could still move and get away, so it was fine.

He dragged his body towards the front door, shaking a little. He staggered right in front of the door, but he narrowly managed to straighten himself. He put his hand on the knob, and opened it. The wind hit his face, blowing his short black hair back. That sensation grounded him a little bit more in reality. His clothes were clean. They had been drenched in blood and mud, but no they were spotless.

They were some bunnies in the path in front of him, that lead to a small bridge over water. They weren't tied down or anything, as if the owner didn't expect them to flee to the wilds. Then again, maybe they could talk or something. Those ponies had talked before, so he wouldn't put that past this strange, fucked up place. Also, a lot animal burrows, birdhouses and some other house. There wasn't anything in his path, so he could run away easily.

He allowed himself to relax. He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He didn't know who owned this cottage, but as he had passed out in front of those six ponies, it was obvious they had helped it. That… that was nice. It made him felt good. But that didn't change that this was now his place. He had to hurry and get out of this place. Even going back to them would be better that staying in a place like this. He recalled his burning body, his ragged breathing, the frantic beating of his heart and the terror that had overwhelmed him as he watched that big, black dog coming to end him. No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't stay here.

He stepped out of the cottage.

His leg gave up on him and, like an idiot, he hit the ground. He moved, so he didn't end up falling on his face again, but on his side. It still hurt, though. Damn it, nothing was going right at all. Why couldn't he have his peace? He just wanted to be left alone. All his life, he only wanted to be left alone. He tried to get up.

"Y-you can't do that." a soft voice, from close to him. He turned his head to the noise, and saw it. The same pony that had seen him the night before, and had fainted.

"I don't care." he answered. "I… I have to get out of this place."

"Stay." he whipped his head to the side, and held its gaze. It was staring at him with a severe expression that promised punishment if he didn't do what she said. But, rather that make him scared, he was utterly pissed off. This thing. This thing was an eyesore. It was only a lowly animal, and yet she still tried to order him around. What did she think she was? She was begging for punishment.

An image of her body, twisted, broken appeared on his mind, halting his thought process. One her legs had been torn off… no, he had torn off one her legs, and she was now looking up at the sky with empty, dead eyes, nothing more that a lump of meat. The grass near her was painted red with the flowing blood. And he, standing over her, was enjoying the sight.

It lasted only an instant, but when his mind went back to reality, he felt like he was dying. Tears stung at the corner of his eyes. He felt like he could puke all his organs out, like he was in the verge of dying. What… what was that? He wasn't such a person. He wouldn't never enjoy that. He wouldn't never do that. He wouldn't, so why?

"A-are you okay?"

"I felt like shit." he muttered beneath his breath, since he couldn't even muster the effort to get angry at that stupid question.


The pony helped him to stand up, which was humiliating, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. He let her help him back to the bed, and he just laid on his back on it, without even covering herself. The world was spinning, spinning but it kept slowing down until it was only an almost gentle swaying. Where did all his strength go? It seemed like a fleeting illusion, now. This world seemed like a fleeting illusion. He gasped for air.

He heard her footsteps, Fluttershy's footsteps, going away from him. He didn't care. Better for him to be alone right now. To many times had happened, and now that he had a chance to catch his breath, he couldn't process half of it. He was just… so exhausted, in both mind and body.

She came back with a glass of water. He snatched him for her hands, and drank it himself. He spilled more that he should have because of his trembling hands, but at least he drank it by himself. It would have been too humiliating, otherwise. It would have been fine if he wasn't able to move, but as long as he could move he couldn't accept that kind of thing.

"Eh… Fluttershy?" it felt weird, to say that name. He mea It was just plain weird. But well, what did he know. Around these strange parts that held no love for logic, is own name could and probably would be strange one. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?!" she squeaked. She was so nervous… she was probably remembering the first time she saw him, a boy dragging himself towards them with a clothes covered with blood and mud. She was so nervous, and yet she was helping him, anyway. He didn't understand. He wasn't used to receive kindness, let alone from strangers, so he just didn't know what to think.

"W-what is this place?"

"Ponyville." she wasn't joking at all.

"No, I meant… what's all of this? I never see anything like… like nothing I saw in this place."

"Uh?"

"Even your… we have horses and ponies and all of that, but they don't talk, let alone have sapience. Is just… too strange."

"U-uh, no way. There isn't a place in this world where that would be possible."

"…Are you telling me I'm crazy?!" he shouted, his hands gripped the bedsheets so hard his knuckles turned white.

She squeaked, and jumped back. That dispelled the anger he had felt. Because, it was like seeing himself, terrified and going to cower and cry in a corner and wait for it all to be over. The anger went away s fast as it had come, leaving him feeling empty and sick. Even more sick.

"I'm sorry. I… I didn't..." meant to? Of course he did. "I got angry all of sudden, but I didn't… I'm sorry."

God, what was he even saying? His head was a such a mess. All he knew was that he was remembering things he didn't want to, and he was feeling like crying even though he was tired of crying already.

"I-its f-fine." its not fine at all. Anybody who can see her eyes knows that. But still, she said it was fine. So those words were ones of forgiveness. Or was it just wistful thinking? He didn't like her or hate her, but those memories… it made him want forgiveness for making her act like that. "I shouldn't have said that, anyway."

"And I shouldn't have reacted like that." he said. "I'm sorry… Back then your, friends, or whatever they are… they were saying they were looking for something. Can you tell me about it?"

"I, uh… I don't really know much about that kind of thing, but there was a, uh, a disturbance in the magical fields of the Everfree Forest. So we were told to check it, so we could find the cause of it."

"Magic…" he laughed. From the bottom of his heart, he laughed. "I… I didn't even know what I expected.

But was it really so unbelievable? With all the things he had seen in this place, magic almost sounded like a natural part of it. Besides, he couldn't say this pony was lying. After all, he had done it. He had pulled something from inside himself and had tore that dog into pieces. He couldn't be sure that he hadn't hallucinated the counter with that large black dog, that was true… but he couldn't be sure that hadn't happened for real, either. He closed his eyes. At least sleeping would grant him some sort of peace.

"Wait!" Fluttershy exclaimed. "My friends are coming since I told them you woke up, and well, they are going to have questions."

"Wake me up when they get here."

It didn't take long for him to fall into a deep, deep sleep.

Chapter IV

Pain. Like swords were growing inside its body, towards the surface. All over itself. Even its brain. It hurt, hurt, hurt. As a Spirit Of Chaos, one whose very name reflected its own nature, it hurt to not be able to do what it was meant to do. Aware of itself in this limbo, yet incapable of living. The only thing that made it felt alive was the great, roaring pain of its soul feeding on itself.

Did they knew? Did Celestia and Luna knew about this? Eh, it certainly wouldn't put it past them. The first was indeed that she though of herself, in all her purity and power, as superior to everybody and the second hid a great darkness within herself, a great darkness that could consume Equestria. So it wouldn't be so strange if they knew, and fully knowing they condemned it as evil for following its nature and encased it in this prison for the sin of not doing what they wanted, so it would be like this. Half-sleep, half-awake. Not quite alive. Waiting for the day its soul would break and disappear forever.

Yes, they knew about this. They knew about the pain this was going to cause it, and they didn't care, because it was evil, so there was nothing wrong with it. It couldn't be helped if they could only get rid of it by condemning it to almost eternal torture and a sure death. Yes, of course they thought like that. Like this was any different from killing it!

They should have just killed it. Because, not even once. Not even for a single second during all this long, long time had it gave up. It had always struggled for the sake of getting out of this prison, of getting its revenge. And then spread chaos, DISCORD around, so the nature of its soul would been feed again after so many years. And he had done it. It had found it.

A boy.

He knew its pain. He knew its bitterness and hatred and want it meant to be locked in a cage. He was also despised for his own nature. Dragging a human from his world to Equestria would have been easy, but that wasn't all there was to it. Because of the similarity, of the resonance, it had been easy to anchor itself to him even though it still was inside its prison.

Like this, it would be easy.

So easy, to set itself free.

Chapter V

He woke up, feeling so hot his clothes were sticking to his skin. He had seen a bad dream, he felt he had, but even now the details were slipping from his mind. Yet, there was a lingering uneasiness. For some reason he didn't understand, he felt like he shouldn't forget about that terrible nightmare. It was silly. Still, he couldn't quite shake that feeling off.

He opened his eyes. Before the bed, there were six ponies. Those six. One of them, purple one, was in the front of the group with a wide, utterly fake smile. Her horn-because, yes, she had a horn- was glowing with the same color as her, but with a different shade. A parchment, surrounded by the same energy, was floating in front of the pony and over his bed. Fluttershy's bed. Just like that.

He didn't react. By now, it was just another thing. He just felt numb, as if his soul had been ripped out of his body. He had crash landed from his world into a horrible wonderland last night, and that had been painfully clear since he had woke up. When he somehow tore that dog to pieces, he had finally admitted it to himself. So now, he couldn’t even spare the effort to complain that what he had in front of his eyes was supposed to be impossible.

So he gave up.

The ponies introduced themselves, one after another. He gave them his own name, too. Of course. Hearing his normal, perfectly unassuming name, after names like Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Rainbow Dash only made the whole mess all the more surreal. Then Twilight went into a flurry of questions.

He didn't have anything better to do, so he answered them as best as he could. Which, because he was a twelve year old boy, wasn't really all that good. He was lacking in a lot of areas. Though that didn't really matter. He could have made up on the spot everything about him, about his life, his people, his society, and it would have be fine, anyway, since they didn't know anything about humans. He didn't want to do that, though. Repaying their help with lying to them, even if it their kindness was fake and they were only after their own interests, would have be wrong. Maybe it was stupid, but it just was how he was. After everything that had happened he didn't want to repay these people with the only thing he had be repaid with since the accident.

History wasn’t his strongest point, to say the least, but even what little he could remember horrified the creatures. Fluttery had been on the verge of fainting. Again. In return for his answers, he got a history lesson of his own. Just when he thought the weirdness would stop, something even more unbelievable came up. He could have laughed, but it wasn't funny at all. That the sun and the moon didn't move naturally, but by the will of really long lived princesses who had power as if they were gods. That the weather was controlled by the Pegasus, one of their species of ponies. An Empire that had disappeared without a trace after those princesses killed a evil ruler that acted like a saturday morning cartoon villain. The Elements Of Harmony, special magic objects, and what had happened to them because of those things.

It really was just too much for him, and in too little time. But he had ripped apart that large black dog that had very nearly killed him without even touching it, so he didn't have any right to complain that those things were too strange and jut plain impossible. That image came to his mind, with such stark clarity that it was like it was in front of his eyes again. He remembered. Yes, he remembered. The sensation burning inside himself, pulling out his power. The wave of power that tore the dog apart like its skin was as thick as paper. And, most of all, that pleasure. That pure, animalistic pleasure of putting it in it's place, of slaughtering prey. It had pleased him so much he had wanted to do it again.

Hi vision swayed twice right in front of his eyes. He bended over at the waist, feeling a hellish nausea as if his organs had come up his throat. There were worried shouts, but to him it almost seemed like they were a world way. He whipped his head to the side, and puked. Right there, on the floor. He puked what little he had on his stomach, and he kept on puking. Even though there wasn't anything inside anymore, he jut kept t it.

Trembling, cold as ice, tears streaking down his face. That was the miserable state he was at the end of it all. His troth felt raw, and he could taste the blood in his mouth. Suddenly, without any reason, he started laughing. No reason? Well, that wasn’t the whole truth. It wasn’t funny at all, but he couldn’t help but think about his life. That he had thought that he could find place to belong here and live his life in peace, but even in this world he was miserable. It really was funny. Was it simply his fate? If he couldn’t escape, if he couldn’t find normal happiness again. Then...

Wouldn't it be better to disappear right here?

He didn't attempt to push that thought away, nor did he felt disgust. If anything, it cleared out his hazy, confused mind. He had tried to do so once before, so that idea wasn't alien to him. He didn't remember it clearly, but still, he remembered. Finally having enough, and sneaking away at night. Grabbing a knife from the kitchen and holding it just over his left waist. His hand trembled. But not because he was afraid of death, but of the pain. He saw himself slowly, painfully bleeding out in the kitchen's floor. That h e the only reason he hadn’t ended it ll on that night.

But, that had be a mistake. He was afraid of the pain, so it had be a mistake. Because what was his life if not pain? There could be bright memories to be made, but he didn't hve no reason to hope for such a thing, and, in any case, the only thing he saw when looking at his future was darkness. Pain, fear, guilt. Slowly bleeding out; that was life. So just a minute or two of pain to end it all... it sounded wonderful.

“Good.” he gave a weary little chuckle. He closed his eyes, and opened them again. The puke had disappeared, as if by magic. Because that was what it was. “I was better off dead from the begin, anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Please... don't say that.”

“Yeah! No matter how bad things get, you can't just give up!”

Oh, how nice of them. And how empty, too. They were such a nice society that human history horrified them, so he was pretty sure they couldn’t even imagine his situation. Saying everything would be all right when they didn't even know the truth didn't comfort him. It just pissed him off.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” he laid back down on the bed, slowly, as if to not puke again. He turned around, and buried his face on the cushion. He would wait until the night, until that pony went to sleep and then... then, he would do it. “You got what you wanted from me, right? Then jut leave alone already. I'm so tired.”

“You... You can't say things like that. If you die, what then? It's over. You should cling tightly to your life for as long as you can.” Twilight lectured him.

He didn't answer.

Chapter VI

He was dreaming. He knew he was. He was walking forward in the stark clear darkness, slightly swaying as if dancing. His hands occasionally went to the wall to support himself. When moving, he had that sluggish, irritating feeling of moving in dreams, as if he was wadding through mud, and yet his body moved without an issue. There was a disconnection between his feelings and what was happening, what he wanted to do and what he did, between him and… well, everything.

Beyond this cottage, there wasn't even a noise. He reached the door, and opened it without resistance. The lock fell by pure force of will. And went out, into the night. What a shame. Tonight, he had resolved to… do… something. Something important to him. And because he had fell asleep like an idiot, he would probably lose his chance to do it tonight. But, well. For some reason, he didn't really care. Because. Because. Because. Because there was something else.

Eddie…

Eddie. Edward. Edward Chasse. That was his name. Something in the darkness was calling out his name. He didn't know where he was going, let alone where that thing was, but his feet started to move towards somewhere instantly. As if his body remembered walking here. As if his body remembered reigning over these grounds, and the sky above him. Remembered. Remember. He had to remember, but what was it?

Eddie, Eddie…

That voice destroyed his gathering consciousness, and soon enough he even forgot what he had been thinking about. He ran. He ran, fast as a panther, through the forest without slowing down for even a second, following the voice that was calling out his name. And where he ended up at… a shop. A dressmaking shop. The Carousel Boutique. He didn't understand why he had come here, of all places, but he didn't have to understand. This was a dream, after all. Logic? What logic?

So he just watched himself going inside without questioning why, nor why at this hour. And he searched the boutique all over, he searched and searched. He suddenly understood what he was searching for. Rarity. That unicorn that seemed to think she was the centre of the world, and always took care to look beautiful and elegant no matter what she did. Yes, her. He was searching for her to

KILL HER

He wanted to take her and

KILL HER WITH YOUR OWN HANDS

Yes. But she wasn't there. He had missed her. By little, but he had missed her. Damn, damn, damn. The burning inside of it increased. The message was clear. This was not enough. It wanted blood. It needed blood. A hiss. A low hiss, that couldn't have even noticed normally. He turned his head. A cat was there. A fat thing, prim and proper and with a collar of diamonds or whatever it was.

“You're an eyesore.” he said, and those words resounded inside his head like a chant. A chant.

With an effort, he lifted the cat from its position. Using his will, he shaved off its skin, ripped off the flesh, and dislocated the bones. The cat's anguished screams filled the empty boutique. And finally, when there was nothing else to play with, when the toy was already broken, he pushed. The battered, bloody corpse slammed against the wall with great force. Leaving nothing but red paste.

What an eyesore. Even though there was barely anything left of it, it was an eyesore. The momentary pleasure of toying with the creature had already vanished. Now, it was just a reminder that he had come here for nothing. That tonight, he wouldn't get to kill that unicorn.

He barrelled out of the shop, feeling the heat inside of him grow worse and worse. He fell down to the ground, on his knees. The sound of his heavy panting and the frantic beating of his heart pounded in his ears. He clawed. At his shirt and his throat. He tried to breathe, but he felt like his heart was being constricted by SOMETHING INHUMAN. His whole body was burning.

CELESTIA, I

Edward let out something halfway between a sob and a scream.

KILL YOU, AND LUNA TOO

He stood up on his shaky legs. He felt like a bag of bones held together by wishful thinking, but he started walking again. Towards some place else.

Uuh....this is not the most accepting place for adorable equine enthusiast such as yourself.

Good luck with that though. :/

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Renko

Uuh....this is not the most accepting place for adorable equine enthusiast such as yourself.

Good luck with that though. :/

---

I know it seems shocking, but you can write stuff about stuff you don't like.



Chapter VII

Edward woke up, the shards of that horrible nightmare floating in his head. That… the details were hazy, and they were slipping away from him even now, but he remembered getting out the house using those mysterious powers, going in search of Rarity to kill her and then ended up torturing and killing her cat. It had all felt so… real. So vivid. Even as things were now, it felt more vivid than that mess in the Everfree Forest.

He sat up, one hand on his stomach. But there was nothing. No sudden dizziness, no nausea. What hurt was the pain inside. He couldn't believe he was even remotely considering such a thing. Even a world where talking animals ruled the earth, killing people in your dreams wasn't something that belonged in reality, but in a horror movie.

Of course, he couldn't and wouldn't rule out a spell to control people. But… he looked towards the door. It was locked. When he had gone out in his dream, he distinctly remembered making the lock fall. And now it was there again, without even a scratch. So that dream couldn't have be real.

He let out a breath he didn't even know he had be holding. Of course. Of course it wasn't real. He had done something like that once before, back in the forest, with that large black dog. But he had only done so because it had be about to kill him. Nobody couldn't blame him for defending himself, for enjoying that he had turned the tables on that thing. And the thoughts he had after… it had only be because he thought it was dream, it had felt like a dream at least, and he angry, frustrated and nearing his breaking point. That was all there was to it.

No, not at all.

The power he had pulled from inside himself. What was that? He, of course, had never done such a thing before. He couldn't have. But on that moment, on the verge of his death, it had come so easily. He had destroyed that dog so easily. He was tempted to dismiss it as a stress induced hallucination, but something held it back from it. Something. He couldn't dismiss it out of hand, not in this world. Though, of course, it wasn't like he could go to Fluttershy or, really, any of the others and ask them to search for the mutilated corpse of a large black dog inside that forest.

He got out of the bed. He didn't feel any better that yesterday, but he needed to go to the bathroom and, in any case, he felt like if he spend even one more second on that bed he would go crazy for real. The birds chirping could be heard from the outside. He just wished they would shut up, for once.

He found the bathroom, eventually. Needless to say, it wasn't a human bathroom. Aside from being a big strange, it wasn't so different nor difficult. Besides, if he didn't do in the bathroom he would have to go to the forest, and he couldn't really see himself do something like that even though he was the only human around. Not like he had any choice, then.

He went looking for Fluttershy, to beg her for food. She gave a whole plate of vegetables. He hated them, obviously. But he ate them, anyway. In world when lots of animals were sentient it only made sense that they would eat lots of vegetables and stuff like that, and, besides, he didn't have any right to complain. This wasn't his home. This wasn't even his world, which was something he was trying hard not too think about.

When he finished, he washed the dishes. Fluttershy tried to insist otherwise, but he felt like he needed to do something, if only to distract him from his own thoughts, so he did so. He had learned to do so since a young age. The fat slob he had for a father could hardly be brothered to do anything, so he had to do everything. He had never liked it doing it, but it was easy, quick and simple and it let him put his mind on autopilot and not worry for a few minutes. He also washed yesterday's dishes.

Then, not having anything to do, he went back to bed. He considered trying to sleep, but after yesterday's nightmare… he wasn't quite in the mood for it. Fluttershy had informed him that Twilight had sent regular, scheduled visits to him, so he at least had that to look forward to, even though he knew she wasn't doing out of the kindness of her heart.

And she came. An hour later that she was supposed to, but she came. The smile in her face was shaky, obviously fake and she was rather ragged looking. It was a big difference from yesterday.

"A-are you okay?" he tentatively asked, feeling awkward. "What happened?"

"No, I'm not okay." she said, after a small pause. He could see in her tone and body language that she was desperately trying to kept her composure. "Op… Rarity's pet cat was brutalized, and killed. There was so much blood..."

Those words stopped him cold. Suddenly, the dream came back to him with stark clarity. Only, it was clearly not a dream. The lock had be there even though it wasn't supposed to be there, but it hadn't be a dream. Shaving away the skin, ripping off the flesh, dislocating the bones. And that last push, leaving its blood all over the wall and something that was more a badly made sculpture that something that had once had be alive.

So it meant it was real.

He had killed for real.

"I'm sorry about that," he shuttered out, not even really sure of what he was saying, still reeling for the shock of that realization.

"Its not your fault." she said, forcing her smile to widen. Just a little bit. That made him felt even worse. "Anyway. Can we start were we left off yesterday? You told me much about human society, but you never really told me much about yourself."

Of course he hadn't. There were some things that couldn't just be told. He had told her the general stuff, but omitted a few details. The crucial details. He hadn't wanted to lie, and lying by omission was still lying, but it didn't make him felt as bad.

"I don't like talking about myself." he admitted, with perhaps a hint of bitterness in his voice. "I'm not a great conversation topic."

"Well," she shrugged. "Perhaps not in your world, but as for me, I'm hearing about another world. How could that not excite me?"

"I guess. But sorry, I still don't like talking about myself."

"Why? Did something happen to you?"

"...No."

"That doesn't sound very convincing, you know?"

"Maybe." he sighed, laid back down on the bed and fixed his gaze at the ceiling. "Nothing happened, is just that I really don't like talking about myself. I find it hard to do it, and it would come across as self important. So let's just leave that aside, okay?"

"Okay. But more general questions are good, right?"

"Shot." he bit his lip. "I meant, of course."

"That's a really strange expression."

"I guess." though, if you asked him, the similarity between their expression was stranger to him. And that they said everypony, like they were only species on the planet, was also pretty strange. But well. It wasn't his world. It wasn't like he could judge them, when he had be here for only one day and a few hours and he hadn't really seen much about the place.



So they ended up talking about irrelevant things, and, truthfully, somewhere along the way he forgot he was talking to a pony and he was out of his own world. He felt at peace, and almost like he was just talking to an old fried. That illusion got shattered every time he had to explain things which would be common knowledge to any human, but still, it was a nice feeling. He could get used to this.

The one thing that remained in his mind after she left, at nightfall, was a question. Why? No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't see what was she getting out of those little talks. They hadn't never had contact with humans before, which meant that they didn't have some sort of portal to his world or something, so he didn't seriously consider that they could be planning on invading his world or something. Also, he couldn't see how talking with him helped her investigate whatever happened to cause an anomaly in that forest.

He wasn't stupid. It was clear to him that his appearance had be that anomaly, or at least the results of it, but if they suspected it was so, he had expected them to tie them down to a table and poke around inside his body to see what made him tick, what made happen what had happen, no matter how pure of a society they say they were. A saccharine dystopia was still a dystopia, in the end. That things looked like they said they were didn't necessarily meant anything.

But he hadn't be treated like that. What did she hope to gain by just merely asking him questions… oh. He had never really considered it before, but those questions might be just what was going on in the surface. Meanwhile, she could easily e poking around in his brain using magic. No, wait. Shouldn't she have found about yesterday, then? Even assuming she could only read surface thoughts, he had thought about it while she was there. She should have done something about it.

Maybe she was about to do it, and all of this was to lull him into a false sense of security. Of course, considering he was trying to think around literal magic and that he didn't know the rules and limits of it, if any, or the list of spells, literally anything could be possible. Running himself ragged over things he couldn't control was pointless.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, released it. What could he do about this? Fucking around because of not entirely unjustified paranoia might save him, but it could as easily just fuck everything up for him. So that was a no. The only thing he could really do was live his life, react if anything bad happen, and just survive. As for what happened yesterday… it had only be some cat, but today it might well be an actual sentient being.

He had see enough horror movies to know that not sleeping wouldn't work, not as a long term solution, but that was all he really had. That and trying to stop it for happening, if it ever started again. It could happen. Last night he had just let himself go with his 'dream', so he maybe he could actually change it. Maybe. That was all he had.

He could have told them about it, but there was as much of a chance of the helping him get control of whatever was happening to him as that they would kill him outright to save themselves the trouble. And the end of the day, he was just a boy. He was powerless, and he just wanted to live his life. He would do everything he could to prevent any victims, but he just kill himself for the sake of others. Nobody could call him evil for that.

For now, he had to think about the present. He stayed awake, with the lights turned off. The moonlight drifting through the window gave more that enough illumination. It was really so strange, to think that it was being moved by some unicorn princess instead of naturally. Alicorn princess. Whatever.




He suddenly woke up. That meant he had fallen asleep somewhere along the way, but he didn't have time to dwell on that. Pain assaulted. A burning heat coming from inside of it. Gasping in pain, he clawed at his chest, as if trying to stop it. He knew this feeling. That heat from when he had pulled out that power, and tore the dog apart. It was coming out. Whatever was inside of him was coming out, threatening to control him.

He screamed in pain, unable to bear it any more, and curled up into a ball. Control it, control it. If he was able to let it out, he should be able to kept it inside. Easier said that done, of course. Damn. He could felt it… fading. His consciousness was fading. He couldn't think, no matter how hard he tried.

There was a knock on the door.

"What's wrong?" Fluttershy's voice. He couldn't let her open that door. He would lose it if she opened that door.

"Get away!" Edward screamed, the panic bringing him back to full consciousness. "Get away from me!"

"W-what… I-I'm opening the door."

"I told you!" he barked. "Don't do that."

He had forgot to close it from the inside. How he could he forget such a thing, now of all times? He closed his eyes tightly. Then, alarmed, he opened them again. His arms were being coated by a dark, viscous substance that was almost like smoke.

ITS NOT ENOUGH

Tears of pain started streaming down his face.

I KILL I HAVE TO KILL THEM

He concentrated, and pushed it back. Somehow, after a lot of effort, the black smoke that had enveloped his arms started fading. It burned. It burned like hell. It was the worst pain he had experienced in his whole life, and if he knew about something, it was about pain. But it passed. It was two long, agonizing minutes spend biting the sheets to try to kept to muffle his screaming.

When it was over, he looked at his arms. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He almost stopped breathing at the sight. His arms were covered with second degree burns. Or so he thought, anyway. He wasn't exactly an expert on this, and he couldn't think straight. Not after everything. And it still hurt a lot, just not as much.

"Edward?" Fluttershy called out, sounding terrified. The door was still closed. He let out a shaky breath.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice ragged. "Help me."