Is this how it's supposed to end? All alone, with nopony else around to comfort me? Nopony else to share these final moments with? I guess not. I guess I am meant to die alone, just me and what's left of my mind, with no one to bury my body or mourn my loss. It's rather depressing, honestly. Yes, I know that I will die tonight. I have accepted it, but that does not mean it doesn't make me sad still. I never wanted it to be like this... nopony did...
I still remember them, you know. The ponies. The REAL ponies. The ones that weren't monsters. I remember them clear as day, as if They never left. As if They never changed...
They used to frolic around so much, living their day to day lives, just like my friends and I. We were all ponies. Weren't we? Yes, I believe so. I'm pretty sure at least... Am I still a pony? I think so. Yes, yes I know I am. They never changed me, so I have to be. Yes, I am still a pony. But are They? No. No, they aren't. And there is no hope for them. Not anymore. I don't know what They are anymore, but They definitely are not ponies. They are strange things. Always hungry, and never satisfied. What do They eat? Ponies. The very ponies They used to be. That's how ponies get turned. There were others here, beyond the guards. Others that were trying to stop Them. They wanted to help us, stop ponies from being turned, and to cure the ones that had. Who were they...? Twin... Tri... Twi..light... Twilight. Twilight Sparkle! Her and her friends Rainbow Mash, Flutterbutter, Pinkie Eye, Applesack, and Rarmity were supposed to be trying to stop this. Are those their names? It doesn't seem like it... Where was I? Oh yeah, Twinkle and all them's plan to fix everything. Told us that they wouldn't stop, they wouldn't rest until the cure was made. I know they didn't, though. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be here, all alone, with nopony I can call friend...
It's a little funny, though. Out of all of us, I was the last pony anyone thought would be, well, the last pony. Myself included. I never wanted to be the last pony. Why would any one pony want to be the last? It's miserable. Trying to keep warm, searching for food, avoiding Them. But it's alright. It should all be over soon.
No, it won't be long now. Oh no. I know They'll find me soon, just like they found everypony else. It's getting dark out now, and They always come out in the dark. They come out to hunt, or scavenge, or whatever else it is They do. But never to talk, oh no. They don't talk anymore. They make strange, scary noises. They don't talk. I haven't heard them talk in... almost two years now. Of course, back then there were still others that did talk to me. Back when there were still more ponies, ponies other than myself. But now there aren't any. I have been alone for a long time... only having myself as company...
It seemed containable at first. When They got out, we never worried. There were much more ponies than there were of Them. We all thought that there was no way They would manage to take over. I told my friends that it would be handled. That the guards and the rest of the military would take care of it. I was wrong. The guards were the first to go. When the guards were gone, They moved on to the rest of the military. Then, They began turning regular ponies. Changing them, making them no longer ponies. They became like them. We would fall asleep, the occasional screams of a doomed pony echoing through the night as They got to them. One of us would keep watch, making sure They never got past our barricade. We would listen to the radio, waiting for the newspony to tell us that They were stopped. That we had figured out a way to fix everything. That They could be turned back into ponies. They never were.
When the newsponies stopped broadcasting, we panicked. How else were we supposed to know what They were doing? Eventually, we started going outside. We would go during the day, because They only come out at night. Soon though, we got bold. Too bold. We started going out at night, trying to get supplies. Less of us came back each time. They grew in numbers each time.
I am the only one of us left. I'm tired of waiting, holding on to hope. There is no hope; They took it all away. All of my friends are gone, having become like Them a long time ago. I am the only one left, and my time is running out. I can hear Them outside, clawing through the barricades. I haven't fixed them. I'm too tired. They're inside now, groping their way through the house. Trying to find me. Let Them. I'm too tired. I miss my friends, and it's so very cold in here. Almost like a...air conditioner! Air conditioner. Ah, They are scratching at my door. Do you know what that means? They have found me. Come in! There is plenty of room for all of you. And you brought my friends! Won't you come closer? Yes, come closer my friends... closer... I haven't seen you in so long... We have so much to catch up on... But could you do something for me? Could you warm me up? Just like you did for all the others? Please, come warm me up. I'm so very, very cold...
Author's Note
I have no idea what I am doing with this. This literally just popped into my head at 11 at night, so I thought "Why not? Let's just see how it does, and then I'll complain about it." I don't really expect anything very positive about this one, as it is very poorly thought out. But if (for some reason) you actually did enjoy it, then feel free to comment, fave, thumb up, the works. And as I always try to stress: if you thumb it down, please tell me why. I'm not a psychic, I can't fix things you don't like in future stories/chapters if you don't tell me what to fix. And I wouldn't expect me to write another one like this (unless it gets INSANELY popular)
Peace out
-Shadow_Fire
