Dear Princess Celestia,

Oh, how I want for you to read these words. How I wish I had the courage to tear out these pages and send them to you, the bravery to show you how twisted I’ve become and accept whatever punishment I deserve. But I’m a coward, no better than a snake, slithering on the ground, tracking in dirt and dust with its lowly form. I’m vile, like that snake; I don’t merit the kindness, much less love of those around me. I’m a serpent, a monster in a pony’s skin. The pony that once inhabited that skin is gone, hollowed out from within by the Itch, and I’m the shell that is left behind.

Today is Friday, February 1st, and now, an hour away from midnight, I once again find myself freed from the cruel grasp of the Itch. If only the purgation of the Itch had been caused by anything other than today’s events, I would have jubilantly written down paragraph upon joyful paragraph in relief, and devoted stanza upon ecstatic stanza in song. I would even prefer to still be in torment than for this day to have occurred like so. But this could not be, and so I wallow in misery, wishing that this day had never happened.

I thought I would have given anything to have momentary respite from my torment, but I now realize that the price I have paid is one far greater than I could have ever imagined, than I would have ever wanted to imagine. Something that I would have never wanted to pay. I have paid with my equinity, the right to consider myself a pony. I am now just a monster that only resembles Twilight Sparkle, and the actions I have made today are the cause of this horrible transformation.

*****

It was 6:40 in the morning when Spike interrupted me from my research. Following in the past few days’ example, I had spent the entire night performing tests and was planning on spending most of today continuing to do so as well. That is, until Spike entered my laboratory, despite the fact that I had ordered him not to just the previous day. I was about to yell at him for disobeying me, when I noticed the darkened bags under his eyes. I realized how much he must have been affected by my most recent attempts at isolation, and my brusk and irritated attitude had done little to soothe his distress. We stared at each other for a few moments, both, no doubt, taking in the raggedness of the other when he spoke in a tired voice:

“You’re supposed to go over to Fluttershy’s today,” he paused, before adding in a dejected tone, “though, why should you care?”

Confused, I asked as to why I would go to see her, prompting Spike to sigh, his little scaled shoulders sagging glumly, “because Princess Celestia is going to be here today with the delegates from Saddle Arabia, and is expecting a show to welcome them. You’ve forgotten about the letter, haven’t you?”

“Delegates?” I began, racking my brain for anything involving Saddle Arabia. I then remembered that Princess Celestia had, in fact, sent a letter a week before informing me that she would be arriving with two Saddle Arabian representatives on the first of February and wanted to welcome them with a show.

To be honest, I completely panicked when I remembered that today was the first of February. I had completely forgotten about the letter, being so caught up in the mystery of the Itch. The corners of my vision were already blurry from the unending assault of the Itch, but when realization struck me, my entire world turned into a disorganized haze. I eventually recognized that I was hyperventilating, and began to calm myself down with breathing exercises. When I had finally calmed my breathing down to an acceptable level, I grabbed Spike in my magic and teleported us outside the library.

Knowing that town hall wouldn’t be open yet, I ignored Spike’s protests and galloped over to Mayor Mare’s house, teleporting us inside her living room, where we found her staring at us with wide open eyes and a spilled mug of coffee at her hooves. Wasting no time, I explained my sudden appearance, the reason for it, what needed to be done in preparation for later today, and was soon galloping over to Fluttershy’s cottage as fast as I could.

Fluttershy was already up and about when I came running onto her property. I quickly explained my being there and sent the yellow caretaker gathering the various animals I would need for my performance. She was understandably concerned for her animals' safety, and began to express it rather vehemently once I had explained what their part in my act would involve. Already nearly apoplectic by the constant siege of the Itch and now under the pressure of handling a welcome for Princess Celestia and two representatives from one of Equestria’s most important trade partners, I must admit I didn't handle her concern as maturely as I could have. Either way, I was free to practice as much as possible for the next few hours, albeit accompanied by a Fluttershy far more timid than usual. Spike was smart enough not to intervene in our short, but concise, ‘conversation,’ and remained out of the way for the rest of the morning.

Thankfully, my horn had healed enough from its most recent injury that by the time 9 o’clock rolled around, I was satisfied that my act for the evening would be acceptable. I started to trot away from Fluttershy’s cottage, believing that I was now free to spend the next few hours planning out how to avoid Princess Celestia for the entire night. Unfortunately, any ideas having formed inside my head were soon dispersed as a certain sky blue mare alighted from the skies to land before me.

I honestly would have been ecstatic at the fact that Dash had finally stopped avoiding me, but thanks to the Itch anything and everything only served to increase my irritability. Dash didn’t help the matter by acting annoyingly uncharacteristic: avoiding my gaze, shuffling her hooves, stuttering with every other word - it was like I was dealing with two Fluttershys!

Stuttering, Dash told me that I was needed over at Town Square, though neglecting to mention as to why before quickly taking off in the direction of town. Cursing under my breath at the rainbow-maned mare, I ordered Spike to get on, and left a trembling Fluttershy behind.

Upon arrival at Town Square, I found that a crowd of ponies had amassed in front of Town Hall, all apparently having their attention drawn by something in front of it. As I approached, some ponies in the back of the crowd noticed me, and began urging those around them to move out of my path. The sea of flesh parted before me as I made my way to the front, and was greeted by the sight of an atrocious dress aparating on Rarity by a beam of red magic. The sudden aesthetic assault on the dressmaker’s sense of fashion was apparently too much for her, and she had to be carried away by Applejack and Pinkie. Looking to the origination of the spell, I saw none other than Trixie, the failed showmare who had fled of Ponyville after the Ursa Minor incident.

The blue unicorn grinned evilly as Dash flew up to her, and sent another magic bolt at the airborne pegasus, causing Dash’s right wing to enlarge grotesquely and send her careening off balance. Trixie then proceeded to fuse her two young hanger-ons (the first ones I imagined killing with my own hooves) by their horns, before turning to address me. After a few moments of self-appraising drivel, she challenged me to a magic duel, and stated that the loser would have to leave Ponyville forever. I outright refused her absurd challenge and began to walk away from her when Trixie picked up Spike in her magic and began bouncing him around like a basketball. My already dangerously shaken temper began to slowly destabilize even more as she displayed the Ursa Minor incident from her own self-absorbed perspective and the difficulties of her life that ensued, which apparently I was to blame for! In all honesty, considering the current economic recession that Equestria is going through and the rising levels of unemployment, she was lucky that she got hired at a rock farm!

But when Trixie began casting spells on more of my friends and some of the crowd, I was almost ready to tear out that egotistical mare’s throat. She even tore my house out by its roots! By its roots! Angered almost beyond reason, I agreed to Trixie’s ultimatum, and prepared myself to duel.

*****

When the first thing Trixie did was endanger innocent bystanders, I knew that I wasn’t dealing with the same hot-aired performer from before. She may have just been insufferable then, but now she seemed to have a certain ruthlessness about her. I soon realized that the showmare had also gained newfound power to base her haughtiness off of, and found myself unbelievably outmatched. She was able to perform an age spell, an enchantment only feasible by the most powerful of unicorns! Something I myself can’t cast! But for some bizarre twist of fate, in our duel a half-bit performer was able to do something a prodigy student of the Princess wasn’t! Somehow, Trixie was able to alter time with only the use her magic! How can she even do such a thing? Starswirl himself, who devoted most of his life to thauma-temporal studies, was only able to alter the age of one pony, but some dirt-poor attention whore was able to age two colts!? Into two different ages at that!? It angers me now just to write it down!

And because of this impossibility, I lost the duel, and found myself roughly launched to the fields outside of Ponyville! I tried to run back, but Trixie conjured a giant glass container around the entire town, preventing me from returning. I was trapped outside of the glass, looking on as my friends ran to meet me, only to make their own discovery of the horrid barrier keeping us apart. I felt a bizarre, liquid sensation bubble up in my heart; a syrupy molasses formed from emotions foreign yet oddly familiar to me.

The feeling it brought to my heart was so caustic I almost forgot about the Itch in that moment. But soon after it arose, that feeling soon sank back into the recesses of my mind, and I realized that I had no idea how long I had been standing there in front of my friends, submerged in alien emotions. Focusing my eyes on them, I was surprised to find in their faces both worry and… fear. Etched lines of concern were joined on their faces by sweat droplets and shrunken pupils, all directed at me. It was something they must have seen in my face in those moments I was touched by that unknown-intimate emotion, something in my eyes, in me, that must have frightened them. They were afraid of me. Such a thought was too much to bear for my beleaguered heart, and turning from them, I ran off into the hills with tears blurring my sight.

*****

After an indiscriminate amount of time, I was able gain a weak hold on my emotions, and realized that I was now near the border of the Everfree Forest. Panting for breath, I delved into the pain now searing my heart, digging past the agony shrouding my body. My heart was surrounded in a swirling miasma of disgust and self-hatred, tainting it with a searing poison. Ever since coming to Ponyville, I have prided myself as somepony that others could trust and confide in, and now I felt like I had betrayed my friends, like I had broken their trust in me. What did they see in me when that unknown emotion rose in my heart; what kind of pony did they find their friend to be? Whomever they saw in my features must have been a truly terrifying pony; I can only remember seeing such frightened gazes in my friends eyes when we first beheld King Sombra during those harrowing days trapped in the Crystal Kingdom. Is that who I am to compare myself to from now on, a maddened, sadistic, power hungry tyrant? Perhaps it is right to do so, as I already share the first two criteria. Who knows, maybe the third will come in time?

*****

Eventually, I reached my destination, and gazed upon the gnarled and bulging form of the aboreal home of one of the Everfree’s more friendlier inhabitants. Knocking on the out of place door lodged under a frightening mask, I was soon greeted by the striped face of one of my dearer friends: Zecora. Though the zebra rarely goes into town, we always make time to visit each others’ houses and chat. After the whole “evil enchantress” debacle, we found each other to be knowledgeable minds when it came to the fields of science and magic, both of us being well-read on many different subjects, so it was of no surprise that when she saw who had come to see her, Zecora’s face lit up with a smile.

That smile though, soon turned into a worried frown when she saw the state of distress I was in. Bidding me inside quickly, she offered me a cushion to sit upon while she prepared some tea. Knowing that offering guests tea was an intrinsic part of Zebrican culture, I waited for her as calmly as I could, though I couldn’t stop myself from fidgeting nervously all the while. Not quickly enough for my liking, Zecora finally came to the table with two steaming cups of tea, and offering me one, she prompted me to begin my story.

*****

“... I just don’t understand how that cheap slu- performer could even manage to lift an entire loaded cart, much less age two colts so drastically! And now I’m banished from my home while my friends are trapped inside that glass dome, subject to who knows what vile whims she may have?!” I almost shouted, slamming my hoof on the short table the two of us were sitting at.

Steadying the rattling cups, the striped mare looked at me quizzically for a moment, before replying, “I know that these matters bring you fear, but panicked thoughts your mind must not near! For what use will you be, to your friends in dire need?”

Breathing deeply, I tried to get my temper back under control, though I wasn’t met with much success. First there was Spike’s reminder of the Princess’ visit with important dignitaries, then the ensuing interaction with Fluttershy, then Dash’s demeanor, the arrival of Trixie, my defeat at magical prowess, and now I have found myself banished from Ponyville with no way of contacting the Princesses! But while all this was occurring, the ever-present reminder of my quickly approaching madness still wreaked havoc across my body and senses. Despite days upon days of research and desperate experimentation, I feared that I would never discover the origin of the condition affecting me. I knew its symptoms: aggravation of nerves, audiovisual hallucinations, and sadistic urges, but not a single idea of its etiology. Could it be chemical, neurological, mental? I hadn’t the slightest idea! All I could plan to do was to conceal any worrying occurrences of this disease from those around me, in order to buy more time for myself, and I couldn’t even do that right!

“But what is there that I can do?” I questioned Zecora, desperate for a solution to my woes.

“Though this Trixie has powers strange and wrong,” she began, giving me a reassuring smile, “train with me and you too can be that strong.”

Taken by surprise, I asked incredulously, “but Zecora, what is it that you know of Equestrian magic that can trump a unicorn who can cast age spells?” I gestured her, accidentally knocking over the zebra’s cup.

Seeming to be more annoyed about the spilled tea than about my doubt in her abilities, Zecora picked up the cup and circled her hoof around the brim. “Though skill in your magics I may not possess, within other powers I own great finesse. Power can be found in many ways; ‘one’s best above others,' who’s to say? If you truly wish to save your friends, I just may help you attain those ends.” She turned the cup towards me, showing it to be full of tea again.

“You really believe that I can defeat Trixie?” I asked, desperate for good news.

“Accompany me, and soon we shall see…” The hermit answered, leading me out of her house and into the murky woods beyond.

*****

It was in those woods that I was introduced to an entirely different aspect of my friend. In that twilit grotto deep she displayed such an ageless patience and emotionlessness that I half-wondered if my friend was an ancient, unknown immortal being, one having lost her equinity to the aeons. The rhymes that issued forth from her mouth were strange, almost nonsensical at times, and yet, like unwavering arrows, always pierced into me with meaning and instruction. Under the mentoring of Zecora, at that silent pool, I felt myself far more at peace than I had been for a long while.

This peacefulness softened the thundering percussion of the Itch, the screeching strings of my anxiety, and the wailing brass of my shame, giving me a clearer sight to view my predicament. I followed Zecora’s orders word for word, and soon found all that had perplexed me simplifying in my mind. In that calm, I was able to look past my emotions and judge unbiased all the mistakes I had made in dealing with Trixie. Enmeshed in this relaxed state, I was wholly unprepared when the Itch, having been pushed back to the farthest reaches of my attention during my meditation, surged forth with frightening ferocity to the forefront of my mind, ravenously demanding sadistic pleasures and unspeakable, brutal acts. When I mentally refused to yield to its demands, the Itch sent its hounds, doubt and anxiety, upon me. Nipping at my fetlocks, they drove me from the meadows of tranquility I had come so close to attaining during Zecora’s teachings, and back into the maddened and frantic mental wasteland I had been trapped in since the first occurrence of the Itch. Now doubly tormented, in those jagged peaks of fiery agony and precipitous cliffs of madness I was plagued with winds of auditory hallucinations and flashbacks of my failures earlier today, haunting reminders of my present shortcomings.

*****

“...Trixie is the highest level unicorn!” I heard the cruel performer yell, her spectral, malevolent laughter breaking what last vestiges of concentration I had left, making me loose my hoofhold on the surface of the pool, and plunge into the chilly waters underneath. When I surfaced, the only emotion that I felt was boiling rage, and seeing Zecora stare pitilessly down at me, I imagined that she was the source of all my suffering. For a brief moment, I contemplated attacking her, assaulting her and making her feel my pain, and relieving the Itch through her pain. I imagined taking her staff and breaking her legs with it, tearing out her earrings, gouging out her eyes. I wanted to do all of those things in that one moment, but then realized what I was thinking and became disgusted with myself. I’m not sure if Zecora noticed the way I had looked at her, but the cold way in which she regarded me did not provide reassurance.

“The power you seek cannot be gained, through blackened thoughts nor outward facade,” she looked down at me, her gaze piercing my soaked and worn exterior. Turning from me she continued, “to be victorious, your mind must readjust.”

With downcast eyes, I pulled myself from the shallow pool, and silently followed after the striped mare through the oppressive trees. Imagine my surprise when arriving at Zecora’s tree, I found none other than Fluttershy waiting there for us. Great was the relief in seeing such a close friend in those blighted woods, and I was hungering even more so for one in light of Zecora’s recent coldness towards me. She was perched upon the doorstep, her eyes nervously flitting about, her wings twitching, ready to take flight at the slightest sign of danger. When Zecora and I came closer to her, the yellow mare finally took notice of our approach, and let out a panicked squeak.

“Calm down my dear, there’s no need to fear,” Zecora rhymed softly, reassuring the frightened mare before us. “It is only us; two friends you can trust.”

Fluttershy visibly calmed at the zebra’s words, though when we reached her and I tried to hug her, she shied away from me, as if afraid of my very touch. Zecora observed the tense interaction between us, her face unreadable. Sighing in frustration, I shouldered past both of them and entered the tree, feeling their gaze upon my back.

*****

Zecora set two teacups down at the wooden table, one for herself, and the other for Fluttershy. The striped mare glanced at where I was walking back and forth, too jittery from Itch’s siege upon my body to sit still, while Fluttershy took a drink of the tea to calm her nerves. I looked away, not wanting to make eye contact with her, causing the zebra to frown slightly. When Fluttershy at last pulled her mouth away from the cup, she turned towards me and addressed me, though her eyes remained on the cup in her hooves.

“Um, Twilight, I, uh, we - that is, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow, Pinkie, Spike, and I - um, well…” She trailed off, her wings shifting nervously, “uh, we’ve, well, at least we think we’ve found out why Trixie is so powerful.”

“You have?!” I burst out, forgetting the tension between us, rushing close to her, “what is it?!”

“EEP!” Fluttershy squeaked, shielding her head with her hooves, accidentally throwing the cup of tea into the air.

I also gave a slight “eep” when Zecora’s hoof appeared right before my eyes and caught the cup as it was right about to hit me. Unfortunately, most of the tea contained in the cup had been ejected by Fluttershy’s reflex, and I was made painfully aware of that fact when the airborne liquid splattered on my face, splashing my eyes and muzzle with hot tea. A few cool towels and a pair of reddened eyes later, Fluttershy continued speaking, occasionally glancing at where I laid on the floor.

“Ah, w-well, we think she’s so powerful because of the necklace she has. We were in the library, and an illustration of it was in one of the books,” she paused, scratching her head, “I think it was called, um, the Alicorn Amulet?”

Recognizing the name, I leapt up from my position on the floor and began pacing back and forth in Zecora’s tree. “Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize the Alicorn Amulet! It’s only one of the more dangerous known magical artifacts, and it was right under my muzzle the entire time?!” I growled angrily, “how did that skank even manage to get it in the first place?”

Fluttershy and Zecora just sat at the table and stared at me as I paced back and forth, muttering various curses under my breath, until finally Zecora spoke up, “Twilight Sparkle, your mouth you need to cease. Such turn of events, your brow must not crease. You now know the source of her power; why is it that you are so dour?”

“How the hay am I supposed to beat her if she possesses a magical talisman?! Do you really think I can beat her with some mumbo-jumbo I learned from some lonely hermit?!” I questioned her, glaring at Zecora for asking such a stupid question.

“Foolish mare! Who do you think I am?” Zecora’s rebuttal contained as much venom as my question, “is what I’ve taught you not worth one damn? You’ve learned all my lessons, all except one. Quit your griping, there are things to be done!”

Realizing that I had just spurned the one mare who had been there to help me the most through this whole ordeal, I hastily tried to apologize. “Zecora, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Silence!” She barked, not bothering to rhyme the two syllables with anything. “Do not speak, you impudent worm; your forked tongue you shall dare not turn. Here, the last lesson I have for you; listen well, and then make yourself few: If Trixie’s tricks have you in a great fix, you must mix your magic, and use the six!”

Confused, I began to ask Zecora, “wha-”

“Out!” She yelled, throwing a small object at me. Instinctively catching the small projectile in my magic, I turned around and ran from the tree, with Fluttershy at my fetlocks, and into the twilit gloom of the Everfree.

*****

The object Zecora had thrown at me turned out to be a gold necklace with a green glass fixture, and at first I was confused as to why she would throw something like that at me. It was only when Fluttershy (who had been following meekly behind me the entire time) and I reached the edge of the Everfree Forest did I figure out the zebra’s intentions. Despite the fact that I had been so disrespectful to her and her hospitality, she still assisted me in my time of need. And now, as I left the murky gloom of the forest, the puzzle pieces of our meditations, her final lesson, and now the necklace all fit into place to form a plan that I could use to defeat Trixie. I turned to Fluttershy, ignoring how she flinched away from me, and began instructing her on what we were going to do…

*****

It was simple enough to con Trixie into accepting my challenge for a reduel and dispell the barrier, allowing Fluttershy to sneak in on the opposite side of Ponyville and inform the rest of the Element bearers and a few other ponies on my plan. The only difficulty I had was keeping myself from assaulting Trixie before the duel. I swear, if egotistical blathering was a degree, that hot-air horse would have a doctorate in it! Thankfully, all my patience and preparation paid off, for the fool soon removed the Alicorn Amulet in favor of my own phony talisman, making herself no longer a threat to the town. Despite my victory, there unfortunately wasn’t any time to distribute any retribution upon the showmare, as Princess Celestia and the delegates would arrive in only a few hours. Mayor Mare and I organized the town to remove the cult-like banners and flags that Trixie had forced them to set up and begin building an arena in which the show would be held. Throughout this, the Itch only increased in its aggression, its claws tearing with unrestrained violence at my hide, increasing my irritability and curtness, which made most of the citizens hesitant to approach me for directions or help, among them including my friends, though I did notice Rarity try to come to me before being pulled back by a panicked looking Rainbow Dash.

Thankfully, the preparations were completed just in time for the Princess’ arrival. She was borne in on a golden chariot pulled by two of her pegasi guard, with two more chariots behind her bearing the dignitaries. Right before she landed, I excused myself from the welcoming group under the pretense of needing to prepare for my act later that evening. I couldn’t have allowed myself to face her then. She knows me too well. She would seen right through whatever disguise I’d have tried to hide myself behind, and would see how vile I had become. She would banish me from Equestria, encase me in stone, or, hay, even send me to the sun! I can’t allow her to see what I am!

It was thoughts like these that possessed my mind as I sat beneath the stands, waiting for the ponies before me to finish their performances. As the sky attained a purplish twilight glow, trapped between the descending sun and ascending moon, I walked into the arena. Noticing the Princess and the dignitaries to my right in a private stand, I turned my back to them so Celestia wouldn’t see my face.

Thankfully, I didn’t mess up once during my performance, and as I did my finale, a series of unexpected fireworks shot up above the arena, earning a final round of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the crowd. Tracing the tails of the fireworks back to their origination, I saw none other than Trixie standing just outside the entrance to the arena.

“Trixie? What are you doing here?” I asked in a guarded tone, preparing myself for a possible attempt at revenge. Instead, I was completely surprised when she began to give a heartfelt apology for her actions.

*****

“...could you ever forgive me for what I’ve done?” The showmare asked, looking at me with a pleading stare.

I realized then the futility of my anger towards her. Yes, she may have acquired the Alicorn Amulet with not the best intentions in heart, but she had only intended to make me feel the embarrassment that she herself felt after the character she had so carefully constructed had been reduced to shreds. It was never her true design to run me out of town and subjugate the denizens of Ponyville, it was only under the influence of the Amulet that she had done so. With this realization came a sort of peacefulness that transcended the violent demands of the Itch. I felt content, having managed to clear up at least one problem in my life.

Staring back into the purple eyes of the mare before me, I smiled, and said, “of course I do, Trixie. Though, would you be willing to go on a walk with me before you leave?” I asked, wanting to know what her plans for the future were and if she needed any help before leaving.

Returning my smile, Trixie playfully responded as she joined my side, “oh, I suppose the great and apologetic Trixie could deign to do so.”

*****

We walked together in the park, admiring the artistic brush strokes of blue and grey the night had painted upon the grass and trees. As we chatted, despite the constant barrage of the Itch, I tried to keep on a cheery disposition, though, things soon turned for the worst. I spotted the place where the visions had first visited me, where I imagined Scootaloo dying, and felt a slight thrill from that vile memory. Almost in response, it seemed, the Itch began to increase in ferocity, eliciting irrational and frightening thoughts from my mind:

‘Why am I being nice to this skank? She’s already caused so much trouble for Ponyville. She doesn’t deserve my kindness.’

‘In fact, shouldn’t I make her pay for what she’s done? She certainly would deserve it.’

‘That’s it. That’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll make her pay for what she’s done to my friends. Surely a few broken bones wouldn’t be too unreasonable.’

It was because I was fighting off vile thoughts like these that I failed to notice that the path we were taking was bringing us closer and closer to the Everfree Forest. Trixie, it seemed, failed to notice my increasingly troubled demeanor, too busy talking about herself, something she seemed never to grow tired of. So occupied by my malicious thoughts, that I almost failed to notice when she had stopped moving by my side. Looking about us, I realized that we were at the entrance to the Everfree.

‘She deserves to feel PAIN! Make her feel-’

“Well, Sparkle, thank you for taking the time to talk with Trixie,” Trixie began, interrupting the invasive thoughts as she smiled at me. “Trixie really does appreciate your concern in her well being,” she paused and looked closer at me, “say, are you well, Twilight Sparkle?”

‘Shut her mouth up! Enough rotten words have spewed from it already! Silence her with bruises and broken teeth!’

Gritting my teeth, I ignored the evil demands of my mind and started to respond, “y-yes, I’m f-”

‘HURT HER! BURN HER! BRUISE HER! MAKE HER FEEL PAIN!’

Almost physically knocked over by my rage-filled thoughts, I sank to my knees as the Itch grew even more furious, its searing maelstrom rising with each cruel word.

“Twilight!” Trixie shouted, her concern evident to me despite my tightly shut eyelids, “what’s wrong?! Are you-”

‘HIT! GOUGE! RIP! SLI-’

“Should Trixie go get help?!” She interrupted in her annoying third-pony reference to herself, “can you-”

‘DESTROY HER! MUTILATE HER! REDUCE HER TO SHRED-’

“Twilight!” She shouted, and I could feel her breath on my head, “can you hear-?”

“SHUT UP!” I yelled, swinging my head back angrily, feeling it connect with her muzzle, eliciting from her a pained squeak. Trixie landed on her butt in front of me, looking at me with confused eyes. Glaring at her, I yelled, “JUST SHUT UP YOU DUMB FOAL!” And leapt at her, my hooves outstretched.

I was on top of her before she could react, and began striking her with my forehooves, throwing punches with wild abandon. With each hit, I felt my hooves connect with her flesh, causing her to gasp and cry out in pain, I responding with grunts of anger and pleasure. This was what I had missed, the sensations that I had so shamefully craved for. But why should I have to despise myself for feeling this? How could such pleasure ever be? It was too long since I had last felt like this, and the sensations I felt then were nothing in comparison to what I felt now. Pinning down Trixie, bloodying her with my hooves felt far more... for lack of a better word, full than the my last time with Rainbow Dash. It was like a whole new depth was added to that beautiful experience, beneath an opalescent moon and atop a cowering victim, in a way I couldn’t explain. With each strike, I felt the Itch receding from my hide, pushed back by each delicious, violent impact. So enmeshed by the physicalities of her tender flesh against my hooves and the euphoria sent racing up my forelegs with each hit, that I wasn’t expecting any retaliation on Trixie’s part.

Pulling my hoof back for another strike, I felt a sharp pain on the right side of my head, and toppled off of my victim. Dazed, I blinked my eyes, and saw Trixie dragging herself to her hooves, a sizeable rock held in her magic. Once upon her hooves, the bruised mare began to back away from me, the one eye I had not blackened looking at me in utter fear.

As the Itch began to fill the void left by the fleeting traces of pleasure, rage filtered into my mind, and slowly rising from my hooves, I glared at the bloodied showmare. ‘How dare she strike me! I’ll make that whore pay a thousandfold!’ I thought, already devising ways in which I could teach her the foolishness of her actions.

“T-twilight, s-stay back,” she stuttered out of broken teeth, blood streaming down her chin. Ignoring her plea, I slowly began to approach, taking precise, menacing steps towards the object of my ire. “I’m warning you, I-I’ll hit you again if I have to.”

In response, I feinted forward, acting like I was going to charge her, and pulled back in time for the rock to sail past my muzzle. Grabbing the rock with my magic, I overpowered Trixie’s weaker grip and shot the rock at her forelegs.

She fell with a satisfying crack, giving a scream that sent shivers down my spine. Picking up the rock with my magic, I drunkenly stumbled towards her, unable to make steady steps underneath the pressure of the Itch. Just as I reached her, Trixie raised her head, her horn lighting up as she prepared a spell. I immediately slammed the rock down upon her horn, driving her back onto the ground. An idea struck me, and I stood astride Trixie’s form as I grasped the rock with my right hoof.

“You know,” I said, “you’ve caused a lot of trouble with that horn of yours. I think we should do something before another thing happens. Do you know what a preemptive measure is?”

Trixie looked up at me with eyes containing a mixture of pain, confusion, and fear, and asked, “w-what are you talking about?”

“Oh,” I mock-gasped, raising the rock above my head, “I forgot, you’re just some dumb attention whore. I think I’ll just give you a demonstration instead.”

With a vicious grin, I swung the rock down upon Trixie’s horn. One time. Two times. Three Times. Again and again, she screamed and screamed as I mercilessly battered the sensitive bone, writhing helplessly underneath me, held fast by my magic. Each strike brought greater and greater amounts of pleasure bursting through me. I kept hitting her over and over, desperately wanting the pleasurable sensations to never end.

Abruptly, a loud crack broke through the fog in my mind, and I heard Trixie give a piercing cry of pain underneath me. Looking down, I saw a jagged stump residing in the place where Trixie’s horn once stood. The other half of her horn laid on the ground nearby, and, stepping away from Trixie, I dropped the rock and picked up the half. Gazing at Trixie, as she whimpered and cried, her eyes shut in fear and pain, I determined she would be of no danger to me, and released her from my magic. Her limbs freed, the broken mare curled up into a ball, her forehooves curled around her head, trying to feel for something no longer there. Realizing what I had done, she began to cry in earnest, miserable sobs wracking her body.

Gazing over her pitiful form, I couldn’t help but express my disgust. “The Great and Powerful Trixie? Hah, look at you now,” I sneered, “not so great anymore, are you? No, you’re now just some dirty, hornless weakling who can’t even lift herself up off the ground.”

I grew irritated when the mare refused to look at me as I spoke to her. Clenching my teeth, I walked closer to her and stomped down on her vulnerable side with my forehoof. “You can’t even show proper respect to your superior? You really do belong on the ground with the dirt then. Here, have your horn back, it’s not like you can make use of it anymore,” I tossed Trixie’s horn onto her, and became lost in my thoughts.

‘I… can’t feel the Itch any more,’ I marveled, stuck in silent relief. “No… wait, it’s still there,” I amended, ‘it’s still there, but I can barely feel it.’ I looked down at the huddled, bloody form at my hooves, ‘perhaps all I needed to do was to attack someone to relieve the Itch... I never had to kill her in the first place!’

Looking down again at Trixie, I suggested that it would be better for her health if she left Ponyville permanently, the coldness of my tone surprising even myself. Giving a parting warning to never mention what transpired tonight, I turned, and began to walk away from the hornless mare.

*****

Oh, what a fool I was to believe that my troubles were at an end! Had not my previous experiences warned me that fate never allows anything to be so simple?! Alas, this foolishly secure state of mind was mine as I walked away from the broken mare. If I had only known the depths of despair and depravity that night would have taken me, I would have never left my library, Princess Celestia's welcome be damned!

*****

I had only taken a few hoofsteps when a thousand sharp syringes stabbed into my body, halting me in my tracks. The pain was unlike anything I had felt before, and I felt my knees begin to buckle as the needles sunk slowly deeper into my flesh. I was barely aware when I collapsed upon the ground, so insensate was my mind from the pain. Thoughts racing desperately, head thrashing savagely, mouth foaming, wordlessly drawing breath for spasming lungs, my eyes lit upon the trembling form of Trixie, and our eyes connected.

As I looked into the light purple eyes of the mare on the dirt near me, my frayed thoughts centered into one, singular thought within my mind:

SURVIVE

I didn’t know why that one word came into my mind, and even now, I’m still no closer to understanding its relevance, but that word became a chant within my mind that I rallied myself under, beneath the assault of the needles

Survive, I thought as I righted my trembling limbs, lifting my shaking body off the ground.

Survive, I thought as I walked slowly towards Trixie, relishing the whimper she gave at my approach.

SURVIVE bounced back and forth in my head, sparking an idea in my head as I took notice of a nearby tree.

I stood over Trixie, the light of my horn as my magic worked illuminating her beaten countenance. Framed by blood and bruises, her eyes were captivating. The fear that they held, their fear of me, was satisfying just to look at. I drank in that fear, and it felt right.

I was broken from my reverie by a sudden increase of duress from the syringes in my spine, and glanced up to see if my magic had finished its work. My mouth split wide and I grinned down at my prey, my magic flowing into existence around her.

“W-what are you doing?” She stuttered as I lifted her into the air, “what do you still want from me?”

Not bothering to respond, I looked past her and grinned even wider. Seeing my attention was not on her, she tried to turn her head to see where I was looking, but was held in place by my magic.

“What are you look-” She began, but was cut off as I sent her flying forward, and a wooden pike erupted from her chest.

Coughing up blood, she stared down at the spike protruding from her blue fur, caught unaware when I released my magic. The sudden presence of gravity on her pierced form sent the mare into writhing spasms, jerking limbs waving wildly in the air. Crimson mingled with the shorn twigs and leaves that once adorned the deadly branch as Trixie gripped it, vainly trying to pull herself off it.

I was held captive by the sight before me. In past visions, I had described what I saw as artwork, akin to paintings and sculptures. Then, though, under Luna’s moon, I saw something beyond any representation of life. Tonight I saw life itself. It surged in her muscles, glimmered in her eyes, flowed in her blood. She was life itself, struggling to survive beneath the stars in the sky. She was beautiful, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her.

Trixie’s attempts to pull herself off weakened with each consecutive try, each one more futile than the last as her strength flowed out of her body with her blood. Finally, she gave up altogether and let her arms fall to the side limply. Hacking up feeble breaths, she raised her head, and our eyes locked. During her entire struggle, she could only emit pained grunts and gurgling mumbles, her voice muted by the blood pooling in her lungs. Now, as we looked into each other’s eyes, she tried to speak to me, but only was able to force more blood out of her mouth. Raising a trembling hoof, she wiped some blood off of her lip and stared at her crimson stained hoof. Resting the hoof on the branch, Trixie returned her gaze to me, silently asking me why.

“I needed to scratch an itch, and you were simply there,” I answered, my voice impassionate.

Trixie’s eyes conveyed her confusion at my statement, and seemed on the verge of trying to voice it, but instead exhaled a last, shuddering breath. I never broke eye contact as her light-purple eyes glazed over, and as I gazed into the eyes of a dead mare, I felt my spine tingle with the arrival of a euphoria unlike any I had ever experienced.

Even in previous visions, the pleasure brought to me by the death of my prey was always seeming to increase, but the ecstasy I felt right then is beyond description. Even now, as I sit here and write this, just the thought of what I felt then makes me shiver. The world became a blanket of white, and as the bliss rose to even higher levels, I was absorbed into that blankness. Immersed in white euphoria, every worry, fear, and concern I had was erased, and I just floated there, without a care in the world.

Eventually, the bliss that I wrapped within began to fade, and I once again returned to reality. Alas! If only I could have remained in that state forever, and never was greeted by the sight that I returned to! For when my senses returned to me, I found before me the dead form of Trixie, still hanging off of her mortal perch.

My mouth went dry as I took in the scene in front of me, finding it exactly like it was before my euphoria immersion. Her limbs still hung limply, like a marionette that had its strings cut, her blood still trickled down the shaft, the sound of droplets hitting the ground filling my ears, and her eyes still questioned blankly, though the foggy portals now stared at the ground, her neck now as limp as the rest of her.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I desperately tried to come up with some sort of explanation for why Trixie still appeared to be dead. ‘Could this just be a continuation of the hallucination?’ I thought, reaching out to touch the mare in front of me.

“T-Trixie? Are you…” I began, but trailed off as I wondered what I could say. ‘Are you actually dead? Did I really kill you, or was I just thinking about it?’ I thought in my head, scorn and disgust filling my every pore.

‘It has to be a hallucination, I couldn’t have killed somepony, could I?’ I asked myself, trying to avoid thinking of such a possibility.

My ruminations were cut short by the sound of ponies nearby. Looking around, I saw the light of torches on a nearby hill to the left of me. I heard indistinct voices shouting out, and was able to catch a few words such as “scream” and “search” interspersed among them. I became panicked as my brain went into overdrive, imagining scenarios in which I was caught here with a corpse with magical residue on it that matched my theurgic signature. I couldn’t be found, and I couldn’t allow the corpse to be found either. I looked about, searching for a place where I could hide the evidence of our… interaction. My eyes lit upon the entrance to the Everfree Forest, and the perfect place to hide the body came to mind.

My destination set, I began to hurriedly clean up the area of any traces of violence. Pulling Trixie off of the stake, I wrapped her cape around her midsection to prevent the gaping hole from oozing out any more blood. I then used her hat to wipe up any spilt blood in the area, broke the branch off of the tree and shattered it into splinters, and dropped them into the hat. The torches of the search party had become worryingly close, and so, using a spell to remove any residual traces of my magic from the area, I stole into the Everfree under the cover of the night, my sinful baggage held aloft behind me.

*****

I don’t know how long I was trotting on that murky path, but it seemed far too much time had passed before I finally reached my destination. Stopping to gather my breath, I looked at the boulder that blocked off the entrance to the Mirror Poll, and knew that it was the perfect place to hide the body. It was remote, protected by dangerous woodland, and was blocked off from accidental entrance. I quickly removed the boulder, and was just about to throw Trixie into the open hole when our eyes met. Her dead, glassy gaze pierced into my heart, and I knew I could no longer deny that this was no hallucination. With the final acceptance that I had murdered another sapient being, I fell to the ground, overwhelmed by guilt and remorse.

In that unnatural forest, with only the company of a dead mare, I became aware in the fullest and most painful sense of what I had done. I had taken a life for the sheer pleasure of it. I had murdered another sapient being in utter selfishness. I had stolen all the future possibilities from another living being just to sate a damn itch! I cried then, but unlike earlier, when I first cried from pain, and then from pleasure, I cried from pure remorse. Remorse for the mare whose life I had taken, and remorse for the pony who I once was. I could no longer call myself Twilight Sparkle with pride. Twilight Sparkle, the friend of those she loved, the daughter of two loving parents, the sister of a kind brother, the defender of a nation and the world, and… the pride of Celestia, had died. In her place I now found myself, Twilight the murderer. I tarnished the very shoes I now filled, just by existing. I was an insult to all those who had ever loved or had been loved by Twilight Sparkle, and a defacement of all that she ever stood for. Nothing I can ever do will fix what I have done.

Eventually, I managed to force myself to rise, and with a heart coated in lead, I dropped Trixie into the hole, trying to ignore the sound of her body hitting the floor far below. Replacing the boulder, I slowly trudged back home, left alone to the judgement of the stars and my somber thoughts.

*****

It was 11:34 p.m. when I finally reached the library, and I immediately...

Oh, Celestia, I’m sorry, so sorry. I’ve failed you. You had such great plans for me, and now I’ve betrayed every one of your kindnesses. You took me in at such a young age, you taught me how to control the power within me, you trained me to be a greater magician and a better pony. You practically raised me like a second mother, you treated me like I was your daughter, and this is how I repay you? With spilt blood and innocent lives?

I’ve become a monster, a wolf in sheep’s skin. I hide in my vileness amongst your ponies, wearing the skin of one of your most trusted subjects. Celestia, I’m so sorry, I love you, but I still hope you’ll never see these words. I know I deserve to be subjected to the worst of punishments and ridiculed by all of Equestria for what I’ve done, but I still don’t want to be discovered for who I’ve become. I’m ashamed of my selfishness, and desperately wish it wasn’t so, but I can’t help but think of ways to lie about how my ‘talk’ with Trixie went. I’m already planning out scenarios where I lie to my friends on what she and I talked about, and telling them that we departed as friends! How sickening can I get!?

I don’t know what I am going to do with myself now. Should I follow my shameful desires and hide? Can I bring myself to reveal the horrible thing I’ve done, and bear to see the looks of pain and betrayal on the faces of those I care most about? Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Shining Armor, Mother, Father, Cadence, Celestia, my friends, my family, my teacher… I’m so sorry… I can’t bear the thought of losing you all… I’m sorry...

I don’t know what to say. It’s not important. Nopony will ever read these words, flit through these pages. Only I will know of my shame, of my atrocities. I will defend my shameful secrets with my life, and take them to my grave…

My grave… what sort of grave have I given Trixie? Her parents will never know what happened to their daughter, what I’ve done to her, where her grave is… Did she have friends? Did she think I was her friend right before I killed her?

Questions, so many questions. I don’t know the answers, but do I want to? I don’t know… I’m tired, but I know I won’t get any sleep.

-Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

Aaand finisimo!
Thank you all for waiting so long for this chapter, I hope it made up for the wait. I apologize for taking so long, but I've been rather encumbered with school, preparing for college, and prolonged sickness. That aside though, please do give me any feedback on what you thought of entry 10, I would love to hear it. Hope you all enjoyed the newest entry, and thank you for sticking along so far.
Also, thank you eLka for the prereading.
Au revoir,
The Fruity Cousin