The Host of Insanity

“Ugh...oh, my head...” I said as my eyes readjusted to the almost nonexistent light.

“Oh finally! Wake up, sleeping beauty!” Said a familiar voice, drained of it's accent.

“Wha-what happened?” I asked, still in a daze.

“Ha! You have about as much of an idea as I do!” My twin replied.

“Oh shut up! You’re giving me a headache.” I retorted.

“Oh really! So you think that it's me giving you the headache! What about all of those mushrooms you ate? It couldn’t possibly be them, could it?”

That is when it all came back to me: our fake backstory, the fillies going to sleep, needing shelter, the walk into the Everfree, the run from the pack, and the mushroom eating. All in vivid detail, every scrape, from trying to outrun the pack of timberwolves, to the effect of the mushrooms, to the reason we came into the forest in the first place.

“Why did I let you talk me into going into the Everfree for shelter...dumbass...” I mumbled.

“Faggot.” He retorted.

“Dipshit!”

“Waste of space!”

“Excuse for a split personality!”

“Pussy of a fanfic writer!”

“Degenerate!”

“Daddy’s boy!”

Instantly I was filled with a rage that surpassed anything that I had felt so far, “What did you just say!?! I’m nothing like my father! I hate my father! My father was a cruel man, responsible for your creation! If he hadn’t been such a blind drunk idiot, then maybe HE WOULDN'T HAVE HIT ME ACROSS THE FACE WITH THAT STUPID BASEBALL BAT EVERY DAY FOR TEN YEARS, AND MAYBE  I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN EXILED TO A PLACE LIKE THAT SHITTY MENTAL INSTITUTION!" I yelled, pointing at the many scars that adorned my head under my thick hair, the most prominent one being a big ‘C’ that stretched down from the top of my temple to my cheek bone.

I sat there, fuming, refusing to look at the only other person in the room. Instead, I tried to get a better grasp of the situation. We were tied up to something, in a dark, cold room that smelled like mildew. I figured that we had been dragged here by somepony, and placed in some kind of dungeon.

“Fine then, if you're not going to talk to me, then I'll leave!” My twin finally said.

That struck me as a bit odd for two reasons. One: it came from across the room from where it used to be, and two: he couldn’t leave; he was chained up to me, or at least that's what I thought. I realized that I was wrong when he opened a door and a streak of light came directly at my eyes, blinding me. Once I had recovered from the sudden change in the lighting, I got a much better look at my surroundings.

I was strapped to a bed by my arms and legs, red cuff marks adorned my wrists; probably from my struggling. I also noticed that I was not in a dungeon, but in a rather nice room that was made out of cobblestone. It had a fireplace, an expensive looking couch, a couple of very artistic paintings, and an armor stand, covered in what appeared to be a suit with forest camouflage. I tried to get into a better position to see the rest of the room, but the restraints held tight.

I suddenly felt a tingling in my forehead. The tingling spread and increased in intensity until I felt like my entire head was on fire. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I felt something project from my head. I thought that I had been shot from behind. The pain peaked as the protrusion came to a stop about seven inches away from my face.

It took me awhile to realize, I had just grown a horn...in ten seconds flat. I chuckled weakly to myself at my pathetic attempt at ignoring the raging fire of pain that was still going on in my head. I felt like I was absorbing knowledge from the air itself. I was learning and understanding various spells, from camouflage to teleportation to levitation. My head felt like it was about to explode, my vision became blotchy and faded.

I almost failed to notice the dark figure standing in the doorway as he said, “Good, good. Now that you have experienced this firsthand, you can begin your training.”

I awoke to the familiar smell of pancakes with sausage and over medium eggs. "Oh, hello Mr. Doorman,” I said groggily, “I didn’t see you come in.”

I turned to the door of my padded cell and saw an unfamiliar wooden door...with an armor stand next to it...and a painting on the wall...along with a couch...and a fireplace...

“GODAMMIT!!” I yelled to the world.

“I thought it was all a dream...” I continued, more quiet this time.

Wait...why do I hate being here? I thought I always wanted to be here... I been trying to come here for ten years! I would think that this, finally coming here would be a good thing...I will have to think about that later, I have breakfast to eat!

I sat up in the bed I was in, which turned out to be very soft and comfortable, with blankets that appeared to be made out of animal skins. My body instantly resisted my every move, wanting to lay back down on the heavenly bed, but I needed to sate my curiosity, and my hunger. I took one last look at the inviting bed before taking to my hooves. I noticed the armor stand out of the corner of my eye. Before leaving, I ventured over to the leather dummy to more closely inspect the strange clothes that adorned it.

It was a tight looking shirt, with a mesh plate that spanned from the elbow to the chest, and continued across to the other elbow. The mesh also covered the front of the dummy’s abdomen along with patches on the outside of it's thighs. The parts that weren’t the deep black of the mesh were a camouflage the matched the flora of the surrounding area, a light green with patches of light brown and dark green randomly placed throughout the design. Along with the suit, there were black leather pouches, worn from use, placed in strategic places around the body, each one was within hands reach. There was a bandolier of them that went across the chest from the left shoulder down to its right hip. There were two big ones on the left hip, and one huge one on the right thigh.

Behind the dummy was a case that held some strange looking weapons. There was a pair of daggers that seemed to be forged of the night sky itself. The twin blades seemed to flow like water, but they were black as the new moon, with tiny specks of light like stars. They each curved away from the wielder, if held correctly, and came to a thick tip while the blade near the handle was thinner.

Hmm...they are kukris, if my knowledge of ancient weapons is correct.

With them was a bow and a quiver that was made out of black leather, but emitted a slight glow. The arrows inside of it were the purest white that pulsated wirh light, similar to the life draining lights of the fluorescent tubes plugged into the ceiling of my old home.

I shed a tear at the thought of my old life. Not because of the friends and family I loved, but for the bad memories. Memories of receiving beatings each and every day when I came home from elementary school. Memories of my father picking up the baseball bat while my mother just watched, terrified at what was about to happen, and of what had happened each and every day of my memorable life.

But it was that day that he decided to go for the kill. Instead of bringing the metal rod down on one of my limbs, he swung it at my head. I just sat there, bloodied, bruised and broken, waiting for the final blow, the one that would take me from this accursed life. I closed my eyes and prepared for the oncoming peace and tranquility, but nothing happened. I opened my eyes to see my father, in a daze, rubbing a red hand mark on his cheek. He was staring wide eyed at my other who, after watching apparently one too many beatings, was screaming at him.

Suddenly his eyes filled with rage, he hoisted the bat over his shoulder and swung with all his might. My mother’s head didn’t even stand a chance. It was smashed to pieces in the new hole in the wall. I watched on as my father continued to beat and break my mother’s dead body, and I felt no sorrow for her death. In fact all I felt was anger, I was angry at her for taking my spot in the afterlife, I was angry at her for birthing me to this man who caused so much suffering in my life. All I felt was anger, until I saw my father glare at me and charge at my still kneeling form, then I felt nothing.

I wrenched myself away from the bad memories. I found that I was still standing in front of the armor stand, my clothes damp with fresh sweat. My hands were intertwined around each other, clutching my wrists and rubbing. I looked at myself, I was a wreck. I had come to an entirely different world, maybe a completely different universe, and that beast still plagued my thoughts.

I shook myself out of my daze and looked at the last weapon, hoping to whatever powers that be to not let it bring back more memories. I looked at the bow, its neatly carved features prominent in the soft glow from the quiver. It looked like the carvings were nordic in design, but it was broken. Cracks spider webbed all across its surface, which would have been worrying if not for the magic pulsating through them.

The more I looked, the more I noticed the the carvings seemed to be moving. Crossing and interlocking in different ways, never repeating a single pattern. There were patterns in the shape of different animals and plants, along with ponies in Ponyville doing their everyday things. I looked on and noticed that the patterns seemed to create a scene remarkably similar to the one I was currently in.

It showed a very confused pony wandering around a dark room, their eyes finally settling on a stand that had a very familiar suit on it, and the weapon rack behind it. Suddenly, a wooden imitation of my face was staring back at me from the bow. I tilted my head at an angle, and noticed that the face in the wood mimicked my movement. I proceeded to do many more random movements before I was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Sorry to interrupt your journey through your darkest memories, but you should come and eat some of the green cockatrice eggs I just cooked up for you and Darkside.” Said a familiar voice, and instantly I felt a sense of dread flow over me.

Discord?