If only you knew...by MC 117ChaptersOne cold nightStupid, red, stallion.The end.The LibraryOne cold nightIt was dark out... the moonlight shone dimly through the shades in the window, the dirty panes blocking it even more so. Big Macintosh Apple stood in the dim light, looking out... he'd been dreaming of it again. It... what was it exactly? It was neither a dream, nor a memory... nor a nightmare, no matter how garish it seemed.... it was a want. An idea. Something from deep within his sub-conscience, and he knew it. Mac had been having these dreams since he was just a foal, they had taken him to a psychiatrist, but he didn't know what to say... what to call it. Some form of deep mental psychosis was all he could come up with. And now, that psychiatrist may have been more right than he knew... already Mac had dreamed of slaying the pony he loved most.... brutally murdering Caramel in many ways, and in this mental picture he had enjoyed it. That small fact... that he could ENJOY such an act.... filled him with fear. What if he did end up doing it one day... no... no he would never hurt Caramel.... he held the stallion to dear. The large stallion never spoke much of anything because of the deep depression he was constantly in... only was he happy when he was with Caramel, or at the very least he was at ease when he was doing work. He turned, shuffling slowly over to the bed and crawling under the covers, the floor boards creaked ever so slightly as he did so. He rest his head on the pillow, and put his forehooves gently around the cream colored stallion he, as of tonight, shared the bed with. He loved Caramel... and Caramel loved him... If only he knew.... if only Caramel knew what mental torment Big Mac went through every night.... Mac nuzzles the stallion gently before hesitantly closing his eyes, and going to sleep.... He was in a street. It was daylight out, the jingle of an ice-cream cart played, and yet there were no ponies to be seen other than Mac... just standing there, looking around, walking slowly along. Then he saw Applejack, over by Sugar Cube Corner. She turned, smiled to him, waved.... and he trotted up, and... Punched her muzzle. Hard. She stumbled back, knocking into the window pane and cracking it severely. Mac pulls back, and lands a hay maker between his sister's eyes,her back bends backwards over the short wall where the window used to be as her upper body goes through the glass. Guess that's why they call it window pain. Her back appears to be broken, and he picks her up in two hooves, her face already smashed, bleeding from her mouth and nose, fractured teeth, shards of glass stuck in her hair and skin, he reels back... and is suddenly awake, in the bed with Caramel again, this time in a cold sweat. He is breathing heavily, and stumbles out of the bed, where early morning rays of sunshine show through the grit and blinds on his bedroom window. He looks out, seeing AJ safe, up early as usual... he lets out a sigh of relief... He hated the dreams... dreaded the night.... but sleep always found him. And the terror only rose. The thing that scared Mac so much... the thing that made him afraid to get too close to too many ponies.... was that he really DID enjoy the act of causing pain... it frightened him... sadism was not his favorite trait, to say the least. But he would do anything to keep the ones he loved safe... even if that means.... no.... it wouldn't have to come to that. At least he hoped not. ******* It's been a few days since that dreadful night, the dreams had calmed down some, and Caramel had convinced Mac to go to Sugar Cube Corner with him. Someone had broken in recently, and the window had been smashed... apparently nothing was taken. Big Mac tried to dismiss this, but it stuck in his mind... Stupid, red, stallion.Weeks passed, and now Big Mac once more trotted through an acre of trees on the farm, checking each and every one. If a tree had any new apples, they were to be picked, or bucked. If there were only a few, pick them. If there were many, they were to be bucked. Simple rules, for a simple stallion. In all truth, he longed for something else. Something more complicated. Anything more complicated than the daily drawl of kicking a tree, putting apples in a basket, and repeat. It was always the same thing, every day. He was sick of it. Now, most ponies guessed he liked it. It kept him busy. He wouldn't be dumbfounded by most of today's workings and mathematics and such. Why they made the assumption he was simple minded, he couldn't imagine. Most ponies knew nothing about him. Perhaps it is the stereotype, he wondered. Big, strong stallion, working out on a farm away from the city. Must be a retard. It angered him so. If there was a good use for bucking trees, it gave him time to think. As he finished with his work, carried the apples to the barn, and walked. He usually took a walk after a long day of work. More time to think. He did his best thinking when he was walking, as most of the time he didn't have to pay attention to the world around him, and rather he could concentrate on his thoughts. But this did not always play to his advantage, as he walked through town, he was not paying attention to his surroundings, thinking of course, wondering what would everypony think if he spent some time in the library, maybe checked out some books? And in the midst of his thoughts he bumped into Rarity, who was sporting a fancy dress for some occasion somewhere. She fell back, into a puddle of mud that Mac guessed she had just made careful to keep away from. She scowled, and glared up at him. "Why don't you watch where you're going, you big, dumb, stallion!" he didn't say anything, didn't let the sneer form on his face, rather keeping his expressionless, emotionless tone. Rarity, on the other hand, sneers up at him in disgust. "Well, aren't you going to help me up?!" This spark more anger in him. Call him stupid, then expect him to be kindly in return? Openly say that you find him dumb, and then ask of him? One bitch she is... He reaches out a hoof, which she takes delicately, and he gently helps her out of the puddle. She had not been looking where she was going either, and she had no reason to be so angry. The dress had not been particularly ruined. It could be cleaned quickly, actually it looked as if a towel could wipe the grime away, but Rarity was steaming. "How could you dash me at the rocks in such a way? Do you not have eyes?! Look where you're going you giant fool!" And with that, she trotted off. Mac held back the words, the anger.... but that brings another violent fantasy to his mind.... he hated them, every time he got angry at somepony, he got another fantasy, every time he dreamed, it was one of the fantasies, it was driving him mad.... in this particular one, he would shove Rarity back into the mud, then grab her mane, and pull violently, removing some of the bows that were in it, and then thrusting her face into the wet, brown dirt. He would then grab her again, this time by the hoof, and place one of his hind legs at her shoulder, right at the base of her foreleg, and pull violently, ripping it out of it's socket, another jolting pull ripped it off, blood spewing out onto the concrete, mixing with the mud as he slammed the arm against her skull. He would grin as a large crack was her at the breaking of her neck, and then trot off, happily covered in the blood. It terrified him that it was so graphic.... and that the image of this happening was so real in his mind. He would never hurt Rarity... she could be nice at times, and he would be getting himself in huge trouble by hurting anypony, let alone an element of harmony. He trotted back home, his face pale... he didn't know how much longer he would last before.... he did what must be done. The end.The scream was heard from all the way in Canterlot. Everypony came to the farm, and found Applejack crying on her knees in the fields, Big Macintosh hanging with a rope tied around his neck, connected to a tree branch. He had taped a note to the trunk of the tree, and it so read: 'I hope you can forgive me, it was for your own good. I loved you all, I held you close. I only wanted you to be safe. I'm sorry. If only you knew...' Caramel kneels down, holding AJ comfortingly while crying himself. This was a short story, delving shallowly into insanity. It ended in one death, in the hope to save many others. Applejack goes months without peaking to anyone, Caramel eats a poisonous berry in the Everfree Forest of his own will. Twilight slits her wrists. Applejack later goes insane over the suicides of her friends, and goes on a killing spree, murdering most of the ponies in Ponyville. Mac failed. The LibraryMac trotted up to the library... he had never been inside, and had no idea what books the place withheld. He brung up the courage... and went inside. He was greeted by Twilight Sparkle, the places owner, and sole proprietor. "Oh, good evening Macintosh! Can I help you?" She says, with a warm smile, and a slight tilt of the head. He smiles sadly back, a rare show of expression. "Ah'd like ta check out a book." He replies. Twilight trots over the the shelves, looking them up and down "Well, feel free to look for it, I have so many... Who is it for, if I may ask?" She looks back at him, eyebrows raised in a questioning manor. "Mah self." Mac responds, looking up at the massive shelves. Twilight is taken aback... Big Macintosh checking out a book... for himself at that? This was a first. But she was glad to help. After some searching, Mac found what he was looking for, a text book on psychological defects. Twilight was extremely confused, looking from the book, to the stallion holding it. "Are you sure you got the right one...?" He looked down at the book, then back up at the purple unicorn mare. "Yes ma'am."She hesitated before ringing him up "Well, have a nice day..." He did not reply, only nodding and trotting out of the library. The rest of that day, and until he passed out that night, he studied psychology. He still did not know what ailed him.
One cold nightIt was dark out... the moonlight shone dimly through the shades in the window, the dirty panes blocking it even more so. Big Macintosh Apple stood in the dim light, looking out... he'd been dreaming of it again. It... what was it exactly? It was neither a dream, nor a memory... nor a nightmare, no matter how garish it seemed.... it was a want. An idea. Something from deep within his sub-conscience, and he knew it. Mac had been having these dreams since he was just a foal, they had taken him to a psychiatrist, but he didn't know what to say... what to call it. Some form of deep mental psychosis was all he could come up with. And now, that psychiatrist may have been more right than he knew... already Mac had dreamed of slaying the pony he loved most.... brutally murdering Caramel in many ways, and in this mental picture he had enjoyed it. That small fact... that he could ENJOY such an act.... filled him with fear. What if he did end up doing it one day... no... no he would never hurt Caramel.... he held the stallion to dear. The large stallion never spoke much of anything because of the deep depression he was constantly in... only was he happy when he was with Caramel, or at the very least he was at ease when he was doing work. He turned, shuffling slowly over to the bed and crawling under the covers, the floor boards creaked ever so slightly as he did so. He rest his head on the pillow, and put his forehooves gently around the cream colored stallion he, as of tonight, shared the bed with. He loved Caramel... and Caramel loved him... If only he knew.... if only Caramel knew what mental torment Big Mac went through every night.... Mac nuzzles the stallion gently before hesitantly closing his eyes, and going to sleep.... He was in a street. It was daylight out, the jingle of an ice-cream cart played, and yet there were no ponies to be seen other than Mac... just standing there, looking around, walking slowly along. Then he saw Applejack, over by Sugar Cube Corner. She turned, smiled to him, waved.... and he trotted up, and... Punched her muzzle. Hard. She stumbled back, knocking into the window pane and cracking it severely. Mac pulls back, and lands a hay maker between his sister's eyes,her back bends backwards over the short wall where the window used to be as her upper body goes through the glass. Guess that's why they call it window pain. Her back appears to be broken, and he picks her up in two hooves, her face already smashed, bleeding from her mouth and nose, fractured teeth, shards of glass stuck in her hair and skin, he reels back... and is suddenly awake, in the bed with Caramel again, this time in a cold sweat. He is breathing heavily, and stumbles out of the bed, where early morning rays of sunshine show through the grit and blinds on his bedroom window. He looks out, seeing AJ safe, up early as usual... he lets out a sigh of relief... He hated the dreams... dreaded the night.... but sleep always found him. And the terror only rose. The thing that scared Mac so much... the thing that made him afraid to get too close to too many ponies.... was that he really DID enjoy the act of causing pain... it frightened him... sadism was not his favorite trait, to say the least. But he would do anything to keep the ones he loved safe... even if that means.... no.... it wouldn't have to come to that. At least he hoped not. ******* It's been a few days since that dreadful night, the dreams had calmed down some, and Caramel had convinced Mac to go to Sugar Cube Corner with him. Someone had broken in recently, and the window had been smashed... apparently nothing was taken. Big Mac tried to dismiss this, but it stuck in his mind...
Stupid, red, stallion.Weeks passed, and now Big Mac once more trotted through an acre of trees on the farm, checking each and every one. If a tree had any new apples, they were to be picked, or bucked. If there were only a few, pick them. If there were many, they were to be bucked. Simple rules, for a simple stallion. In all truth, he longed for something else. Something more complicated. Anything more complicated than the daily drawl of kicking a tree, putting apples in a basket, and repeat. It was always the same thing, every day. He was sick of it. Now, most ponies guessed he liked it. It kept him busy. He wouldn't be dumbfounded by most of today's workings and mathematics and such. Why they made the assumption he was simple minded, he couldn't imagine. Most ponies knew nothing about him. Perhaps it is the stereotype, he wondered. Big, strong stallion, working out on a farm away from the city. Must be a retard. It angered him so. If there was a good use for bucking trees, it gave him time to think. As he finished with his work, carried the apples to the barn, and walked. He usually took a walk after a long day of work. More time to think. He did his best thinking when he was walking, as most of the time he didn't have to pay attention to the world around him, and rather he could concentrate on his thoughts. But this did not always play to his advantage, as he walked through town, he was not paying attention to his surroundings, thinking of course, wondering what would everypony think if he spent some time in the library, maybe checked out some books? And in the midst of his thoughts he bumped into Rarity, who was sporting a fancy dress for some occasion somewhere. She fell back, into a puddle of mud that Mac guessed she had just made careful to keep away from. She scowled, and glared up at him. "Why don't you watch where you're going, you big, dumb, stallion!" he didn't say anything, didn't let the sneer form on his face, rather keeping his expressionless, emotionless tone. Rarity, on the other hand, sneers up at him in disgust. "Well, aren't you going to help me up?!" This spark more anger in him. Call him stupid, then expect him to be kindly in return? Openly say that you find him dumb, and then ask of him? One bitch she is... He reaches out a hoof, which she takes delicately, and he gently helps her out of the puddle. She had not been looking where she was going either, and she had no reason to be so angry. The dress had not been particularly ruined. It could be cleaned quickly, actually it looked as if a towel could wipe the grime away, but Rarity was steaming. "How could you dash me at the rocks in such a way? Do you not have eyes?! Look where you're going you giant fool!" And with that, she trotted off. Mac held back the words, the anger.... but that brings another violent fantasy to his mind.... he hated them, every time he got angry at somepony, he got another fantasy, every time he dreamed, it was one of the fantasies, it was driving him mad.... in this particular one, he would shove Rarity back into the mud, then grab her mane, and pull violently, removing some of the bows that were in it, and then thrusting her face into the wet, brown dirt. He would then grab her again, this time by the hoof, and place one of his hind legs at her shoulder, right at the base of her foreleg, and pull violently, ripping it out of it's socket, another jolting pull ripped it off, blood spewing out onto the concrete, mixing with the mud as he slammed the arm against her skull. He would grin as a large crack was her at the breaking of her neck, and then trot off, happily covered in the blood. It terrified him that it was so graphic.... and that the image of this happening was so real in his mind. He would never hurt Rarity... she could be nice at times, and he would be getting himself in huge trouble by hurting anypony, let alone an element of harmony. He trotted back home, his face pale... he didn't know how much longer he would last before.... he did what must be done.
The end.The scream was heard from all the way in Canterlot. Everypony came to the farm, and found Applejack crying on her knees in the fields, Big Macintosh hanging with a rope tied around his neck, connected to a tree branch. He had taped a note to the trunk of the tree, and it so read: 'I hope you can forgive me, it was for your own good. I loved you all, I held you close. I only wanted you to be safe. I'm sorry. If only you knew...' Caramel kneels down, holding AJ comfortingly while crying himself. This was a short story, delving shallowly into insanity. It ended in one death, in the hope to save many others. Applejack goes months without peaking to anyone, Caramel eats a poisonous berry in the Everfree Forest of his own will. Twilight slits her wrists. Applejack later goes insane over the suicides of her friends, and goes on a killing spree, murdering most of the ponies in Ponyville. Mac failed.
The LibraryMac trotted up to the library... he had never been inside, and had no idea what books the place withheld. He brung up the courage... and went inside. He was greeted by Twilight Sparkle, the places owner, and sole proprietor. "Oh, good evening Macintosh! Can I help you?" She says, with a warm smile, and a slight tilt of the head. He smiles sadly back, a rare show of expression. "Ah'd like ta check out a book." He replies. Twilight trots over the the shelves, looking them up and down "Well, feel free to look for it, I have so many... Who is it for, if I may ask?" She looks back at him, eyebrows raised in a questioning manor. "Mah self." Mac responds, looking up at the massive shelves. Twilight is taken aback... Big Macintosh checking out a book... for himself at that? This was a first. But she was glad to help. After some searching, Mac found what he was looking for, a text book on psychological defects. Twilight was extremely confused, looking from the book, to the stallion holding it. "Are you sure you got the right one...?" He looked down at the book, then back up at the purple unicorn mare. "Yes ma'am."She hesitated before ringing him up "Well, have a nice day..." He did not reply, only nodding and trotting out of the library. The rest of that day, and until he passed out that night, he studied psychology. He still did not know what ailed him.
