Twilight Sparkle was sleeping in her bed, happily surrendering herself to her dreams. The sun was already out and the day had long begun, but none of that mattered to the purple unicorn, blissfully snoozing her troubles away. As always, her draconic assistant, Spike, slept in a padded and blanketed basket, also in a similar state as his friend.
Without warning, loud footsteps were approaching upwards, waking up Spike as he drowsily opened his eyes to see the source of the commotion. Coming up to the top level of Twilight’s treehouse was a male human with a slightly muscular build. He had dark amber eyes and golden-colored hair. His clothing consisted of a set of red, plaid pajamas with matching bottoms, a right black sock on his foot, left white sock, and a pair of brown hiking boots.
The strange man stopped atop the stairs, looking at Twilight with an angry scowl. Spike could immediately feel that this intruder was dangerous, and he tried to wake his friend up.
“Twilight?” he called out.
Upon uttering the word, the man looked right at Spike as if he had made him screw up a very difficult puzzle. The man loudly waddled over to Spike’s basket and picked it up.
“Wait!” shouted Spike. “Put me dow–”
The man walked over to the edge of the floor that led to the study a floor below and tossed the basket with Spike on it over, cutting the dragon’s pleas off into screams of terror as he fell. The resulting noise of Spike’s yelling and the crashes forced Twilight out of bed, sitting up to see the man in her house. The man must have heard her, as her rustling sheets turned the man’s attention back to her, giving her the same angry expression.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” screamed Twilight.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” shrieked the man in a creepily similar tone as Twilight, still keeping his anger visible.
The man then walked to the bed, threw the sheets off the bed and grabbed Twilight by her mane, pulling her to the kitchen. Twilight shouted in pain as the man dragged her across the wooden floors. When they finally got to the kitchen, the man pulled her up by her mane and plopped her on the table.
Riddled with pain and confusion, Twilight wouldn’t move as the man pulled a roll of masking tape from his pocket and began wrapping Twilight’s body and the back of the chair together keeping her still. Just to be sure, the man also ran a few layers of tape around her horn, preventing her escape entirely. Sure enough, as the man went to the cabinets, Twilight attempted a teleportation spell, only for the horn to not glow. No matter how hard Twilght grunted and groaned, her horn was disabled.
“Wha…” muttered Twilight. “Why are you doing this?”
The man ignored her, instead grabbing a bag of oats, a bottle of milk, and two whole apples. Placing the items beside the old-iron stove, the man took out a pot and put it on one of the burners. The man dumped the milk into the pot, splashing it all over the floors as he filled the pot halfway.
“Just…” stammered Twilight. “Just stop!”
The man continued on, dumping a couple of cups worth of oats into the pot. He then opened up the door to the source of the heat for the stove. He then pulled a half empty can of lighter fluid out of his shirt and tossed it in. Lastly, he took out a Zippo lighter from his pocket, flicked it on, and threw it in, closing the door. Twilight was terrified by this madman as he was about to destroy her home.
“HELP!” she screamed out. “SOMEPONY HELP!”
No one could hear her as the inside of the stove exploded with flames, a few embers escaping the blown-open door and landing on the floor. Twilight continued to scream for help as the man took the apples to the counter, stepping on the flames and putting them out. Balling his fists, he made ape-like noises as he built the energy to lift his hands above his head and crush the apples on the way down, flinging pieces of fruit and juice all over the room. The pieces he could salvage were grabbed and placed in the pot.
All Twilight could do was sob as the man went back to her pantry and took out a cup and a carton of orange juice. The man popped the top open and began pouring the drink into the cup, still pouring even as it overflowed and dripped down onto the floor. The man turned back to Twilight with his angry expression, scaring her. He then forced a wide smile onto his face, almost as he believed he was doing good by her.
Soon, the milk and oats mixture came to a rolling boil, allowing the man to take both the pot and the juice and walk over to Twilight with it. Twilight shuddered in fear as the man held the oatmeal and the juice over her head. He then let out another yell, forcing Twilight to scream again, opening her mouth. With that, the man dumped the contents of the pot onto Twilight’s face, drenching her in scalding milk and sticky oats and apple, making her scream even louder.
“AAAAAHHH, WHYYYYY?!?” she yelled out.
The man then dumped the orange juice over her face, providing only temporary relief for her burns. Twilight coughed, trying to clear her throat of the liquid and food stuck in her throat.
With her breakfast taken care of, the man grabbed the top of the back of the chair and dragged her out of the kitchen and down the stairs to her study where Spike still laid unconscious under the covers. As the man pulled her down, the back feet of the chair fell down each step, bouncing Twilight up and down and making her even more uncomfortable.
When they finally made it to the desk, he picked her up and forcefully placed her back down. With her burned skin and complete lack of understanding what was going on, Twilight continued to sob loudly as her head was hung low. Suddenly, two books fell onto her desk, waking her back up, she looked to see as several sheets of paper fluttered down, along with a couple of quills and her small jars of ink that scattered along the desk.
The man opened the book to the first page and grabbed Twilight’s mane, moving her head left and right as he made sure she read every word. Twilight couldn’t even be bothered to pay attention to her books, still frightened over what other pain this man would inflict to her. As they neared the end of the first page, the man pushed her head into the pile of quills. With her magic disabled, she weakly grabbed a quill with her mouth, a few sobs escaping from it.
Her head was then lead towards the ink, and she dipped the quill into the ink and went to the paper. Not knowing what she was supposed to write, the man knelt down to face her with wide eyes and pursed, but open lips, revealing only a few of his front teeth. He motioned his gaze to the paper and back to her, expecting her to write. Twilight could only moan in response.
The man, finding the answer unacceptable, slapped her cheek and pointed to the paper, expecting the best set of notes that he’d ever seen. Twilight, brought her head down and began writing on the paper. With her lack of comfortably writing with her mouth, as well as the pain she was in, her legibility was sloppy and nearly unreadable.
This was also unacceptable, as the man punched her in the jaw, forcing the quill out of her mouth. Twilight began to cry again as the man reached over to the intelligible recordings and tore them up into small bits of confetti. Twilight realized his occupation as her chance to escape.
Twilight jumped up in her chair, shifting herself up and down towards the stairway to the library. It wasn’t long though before the man noticed her making her escape. He quickly came at her with wide steps and shaking arms as he tried to get her back to her studies. The man made a reach for her, only for Twilight to escape his grasp by leaning back towards the back of the stairs.
Twilight fell down the stairs, shattering the chair she was bound to as she continued to roll all the way down to the bottom, stopping a few feet from the bottom. Twilight, now even more weakened by her fall, tried to crawl to the door and alert anyone nearby. However, she heard the loud, fast steps of the man coming down to get her. What he saw on this level mystified him.
He saw rows and rows of books lined on the shelves, all for Twilight to read and take notes on. As Twilight continued her far, but close journey to freedom, the man stood in front of the door with a book in his hand and about half a dozen more in his arm. He gave Twilight another scowl, but his unfurrowed brow made him look less threatening. It didn’t matter though. Twilight was obstructed by him and she couldn’t escape.
“No…” she squeaked.
The man threw the book at her face, hitting her on the side of the forehead next to her horn. Twilight curled her body for further protection as the man continued to pelt her with books and tomes of various titles and colors. He reached for the shelves, grabbing even more books as he hyperventilated, the mound of books he was created giving him some strange kind of angry high. As he continued, he only got faster, almost as if someone had increased the speed on a video as he threw about a dozen books at Twilight a second.
In just a minute or two, Twilight’s shelves were completely barren and there was nothing but a mound of books where Twilight was. The man, seeing his work, stood in a wide stance with his hands at his waist, nodding his head at a job well done. He then put his legs together and put his arms up to the sky. With a single jump, the man disappeared in a burst of sparkling fire that made the sound of a clucking chicken as he left.
