A Bronie's Soul

I'm not a religious man. Yes, I believe in the afterlife, but I'm not religious. At least, I don't think I am. None of them really appealed to me, so…

Anyway, back on topic. I believe that, when you die, your soul is sent to an alternate universe that best suits your fantasies, on mindset, or whatever.

EG: if you're, a fan of comedy, you go to the funniest place that whatever divine being there is can find.

Now, mine was a very… shall we say special case. Never before had this being found somebody like me.

Maybe I should elaborate. I lived underground. Literally, I bought a bunker and renovated it. That's my house. The whole thing was dedicated to my one true love… ponies. Because of this, I never left my bunker-house.

I made money by selling art and music over the Internet. I also had a partnership with YouTube on my Pony music channel, but that was mainly just remixing other artists work. I ordered my vital provisions (food, drink, electronics, pony merchandise, etc.) to be delivered to the bunker's loading bay. There, my Personal Innovative Neuro-Kinetic Enforcer, or PINK-E for short, would collect and move them.

It's because of her new AI upgrade that I ended up here. She began to insist that I go out, even just for an hour, because lack of sunlight wasn't good for me. Something about 'angering Celestia'. So I decided to go for a walk around town.

Now I'm at gunpoint, in an alleyway, fearing for my life.

"I'll only say it one more time, buddy!" Shouted the hooded man in front of me. "Hand over your wallet!"

"Please!" I pleaded, dropping to my knees as tears streamed down my face. "I don't have any money! It all stays in a digital account, I swear!" The thug sighed and pulled his hood down, revealing a short, wiry beard, curly black hair and a tattoo of a winged skull on his right cheek. It was actually a pretty good design. If I get out of this, I could edit it to fit Rainbow Dash and…

Matter at hand, damnit! Even at gunpoint I can't focus!

"Sorry kid." He said, visibly upset. I dreaded what he was about to do. "But I can't risk you giving me up."

"I won't! I would never do that!" I yelled.

"That's a risk I just can't take, kid." He said, closing his eyes. A single tear fell as he tightened his grip on the gun.

And then he pulled the trigger.