How Equestria Was Made, A Grimdark Tale
How Equestria Was Made, A Grimdark Tale
How Equestria Was Made
A Grimdark Tale by MisterGunpowder
I dance around the table, the light swinging almost in time with me. I'm humming. I'm so excited.
The mare on the table follows me as best she can with those pretty brown eyes of hers. She looks confused, unaware of the possible purpose this could have. She occasionally makes a noise, but it's muffled by the duct tape.
I'm gonna be honest, it doesn't have a purpose. I'm just dancing because I feel like it.
I stop suddenly, above her head, and lean over. “Oh, aren't you excited? Because I am! We're gonna have sooo much fun!” I stop for a second, rubbing my chin with a hoof. “Well, that's not right. I'm gonna have a lot of fun, not too sure about you yet. Hope you do.”
She looks at me fearfully, still unsure of what's going on. She makes a series of sounds.
“Well, that's obviously because of fishday. Your fault for not knowing about it.”
She gives me a look of utter confusion and non-comprehension.
“Let me tell you something. Today is a very special day. I share it with those who abuse their foals, like you!” I silence the anger that wanted break out, making sure it sounds flippant and happy. I grab a hammer and a piece of cloth. I shine it for the one hundredth time that day. She looks horrified by it. “An anniversary.” I stop again, and smile wide. “No, no, no. That's not right. Not an anniversary.” I lean in very close over her. “It's a birthday. Or maybe I should say a rebirthday.” I laugh. “That's better! Rebirthday fits better, let's make that a word for today, okay?”
She nods quickly. Her eyes dart between the hammer and my face.
“But before we can get to the fun, you have to know why.” I run a hoof along her face. “Why I am what I am.” I smile again. “So it's story time! Love a good story!” I put the hammer back in its place and run off, then return with a hefty book. I sit down next to her head, and open the book. “Let's begin!”
* * *
We look at the rock farm. The family home of the Pies. Three fillies lived there.
Every day they would move the rocks, breaking them and taking from them to make a living on that dreary, depressing place.
Now, their father, Igneous Rock, owned the farm, and made them do this as part of their chores. He always used to look at one of them, let's call her Maud, with an odd look. She liked to think that he loved her more than her sisters because that look was reserved for her. I guess you could've called it love, depending on how morally bankrupt you are.
Their mother always sat there next to him, always frowning, looking distant even when she was paying attention. She looked so sad, the three little fillies always wanted to find a way to make her look less sad but they never figured out how.
Cloudsdale was in the distance a lot, and they paid special attention to it when it lit up all those years ago and all the thunder and lightning around it came, which scared two of the fillies but it looked so pretty to one named Pinkie Pie, though they only found out what happened in Cloudsdale many years later.
And then, there was dear Granny Pie. Oh, how she used to make them laugh, even in the worst of times. their father used to look at her like she was doing something wrong whenever she did this.
But then the night she died came, with the little fillies unaware such a good thing could be taken away so quickly.
They'd been playing in the rock fields, having finished their chores. They'd invented a game for themselves, which involved throwing a shiny rock behind them, and then trying to find it before the others. They loved this, considering it was all they had.
Granny called them all in for a story. She'd been lying in bed a lot more, and she was a lot less lively than she was before then. She told them a story about a dark overlord from a far off land and how he was defeated, their eyes shining bright as she did.
She was interrupted near the end, as Igneous Rock burst in right at that moment. He'd been drinking a lot in that time, and that day was no different.
They all jumped when he yelled, shrinking away from him and the volume. “Wat'chu t'ink yer doin', tellin' thes...thes foals abow tha'?” He'd slurred at her at a high volume.
Granny shrugged at him. “It's just a story, Igneous. You shouldn't yell, you're scaring them.”
He didn't relent and just kept going at increased volume. “Aouw'll do as I wan' wit' 'em and aroun' 'em, 'cuz dere mah foals, not yers!”
Granny turned to the scared little fillies. “Would you leave me and your father alone for right now, babies?”
He turned to the fillies, fire in his eyes that scared them beyond their granny's wishes. “Yow'll stay righ' dere!”
We shrunk further into the corner.
Granny whipped her head right toward him then. “Now, see here, Igneous, you can yell at me all you want, but at my grandfoals? No way.” She turned back to the terrified little fillies, one of whom had begun crying. “Go outside and play, babies. It's okay. I'll finish the story later.”
They fled the room, away from their father. He yelled at them, but they'd already crossed the doorway by the time he did. They fled into the yard, the oldest, Limestone, leading them into the old shed to help them all calm down. Surrounded by tools, they resolved to use them to build Granny something later, after the story was finished.
They never heard the end of that story. About ten minutes later, they all heard the gunshot. A few seconds later, they heard their mother screaming.
The three fillies rushed back in, only Pinkie making note of their father on the porch, rubbing his pistol with a cloth.
It was Limestone who saw Granny Pie first. She locked the other two out, who began screaming at the door and banging on it, yelling to be let in.
“You can't.” She told them through the door. “You shouldn't see this. I wish I hadn't.” The two stayed outside because of this, not wanting to see what had made her sister do that.
Limestone stayed there, trying to console her hysterical mother. It took hours before they came out, and when they did, Granny Pie was covered up, and the other two never saw what she looked like. Limestone harbored a large grudge against her father after that.
Their mother became even more distant, to the point she barely spoke a word at any time. The fillies tried everything they could to cheer her up, but nothing worked. Eventually, they gave up.
The beatings started then. Igneous came inside after Granny had been covered, and beat the three fillies with a switch for disobeying him. Limestone got the worst of it. After that, Igneous would occasionally just think of a reason to beat all of them every other day.
He started calling Limestone trash, throwing various pieces of garbage at her as he felt like it. Some were heavy, and often left her bruised. He merely hit Maud, but he seemed to do it with far greater frequency than the others. With Pinkie, he started to insult her intelligence, forcing her to stop anything that he considered too “co'plicated.”
That went on for three years. Three years of beatings and abuse. The fillies grew up, and, eventually, started to form into their marely bodies.
Suddenly, the abuse on Maud changed a little bit. He started raping her. He would walk into her room at night, hold her down, and just rape her over and over until he got tired. Then, one night, it came to a boiling point.
The fillies had been acting at their best to minimize the beatings. They'd all still meet out in that broken down shed to get away from their father. They'd organized a party for themselves, in celebration of Granny's birthday. They enjoyed the festivities they had created for themselves, and when he showed up in the shed drunk, their hearts dropped in the knowledge that he would.
“Wat'chu trashbins doin' 'ere? 'Taint safe. An' ya soudn't be throwin' no parties 'ere, either,” He told us. He was obviously planning to use this as another excuse. “Gonna hafta punish ya.”
Lately, Limestone had been getting angrier and angrier with the situation. She snapped at him. “Get out, this is our place!” The other two jumped. Pinkie backed into a corner, and Maud moved away from both of them.
He looked at her, contempt flashing in those hateful eyes. “Wat'chu say, ya little bitch?”
Limestone broke into yelling. “You heard me, murderer, this isn't a place for you!”
He smacked her. Hard. Her lip split, and she fell to the ground. “Aouw'll do wat I want, wen I want, to w'icheva o' ya I feels like!” Pinkie's eyes narrowed on her father right then, focusing her hatred for him into that one stare.
Then he turned to Maud, smiling a sleezy smile. “Act'ly, I feels like somefin righ' now.”
She backed away from him, a new kind of fear filling her eyes. “No! No! Not right here! Not again! Please!” He smacked her to the ground.
“S'ut up and tak' it, ya whore!” He yelled into her face.
Pinkie leaped from her corner, on to him. “Stop it! Stop it!” She yelled.
He flung her off into one of the rickety walls, causing tools to start falling. Pinkie sat there, stunned for a second.
And he began raping Maud Pie once more, Maud screaming in pain and horror, yelling for him to stop.
Then, Pinkie's head cleared, and she was staring directly at the back of her father as he raped her sister. Right beside her laid a hammer.
She grabbed it.
“Stop it...” She hissed at almost a whisper. He didn't hear her over Maud's screams.
She moved up behind him.
“Stop hurting her!” She yelled.
He turned. “Wat'chu gonna do 'bout it, retard?”
He didn't see the hammer coming, and it collided with his head with a solid thump.
But Pinkie had swung it halfheartedly, and it only stunned him. “Gonna keel you, ya stupid little bitch!” He yelled, looking around for her, still confused by what had just happened.
Pinkie raised it again. But that time, though she didn't realize it at that moment, the crowbar end of the hammer was what she would hit with. “No more!”
She brought it down again. He screamed. That look of horror on his face embedded itself in her mind just as much as she had embedded that hammer into his forehead.
Pinkie didn't flinch at the sudden bloodiness. She pulled it out, and blood gushed from the wound and ran down Igneous' face, which also splashed on to the foreleg she was using to hold the hammer. “No more beatings!” She brought it down again.
She knocked out a good chunk of Igneous' forehead as he screamed a gurgling, drowning wail. He was bleeding out, but still alive, and he babbled and sobbed, confused. The blood sprayed over Pinkie's face.
She brings it up again. “No more raping!” With both hooves on the hammer, she brought it down hard on his jaw, which flew off, and blood sprayed over him.
Pinkie Pie, who had been through so much, finally started to feel the catharsis in this act of violence. This feeling of power which had been taken away from her for so long. She began laughing. “And no more BUCKING ROCK FARMING!” She brought it down one last time.
It collided with the center of his face, caving it in, with on short strangled scream cut short. The blood sprayed over her again.
Pinkie dropped the hammer and backed away from him, still smiling. “It's over.” She laughed. “It's all over!” She collapsed to the ground, and looked around her, having forgotten the presence of her siblings.
Maud had curled up into a corner. She sobbed and shook from the trauma. Limestone leaned off of the ground and stared at Pinkie, totally stunned at what had occurred.
Pinkie moved to Marble, and started rubbing her back with an unstained hoof. “It's okay, Maud. It's over now. And it won't happen ever again.”
Maud nodded, and kept sobbing. To Pinkie's ears, the sobs sounded more relieved now, less pained, but still quite sad.
Limestone picked herself up from the ground. While Pinkie had her back turned, she picked up the hammer. She stared at her father's corpse for a minute, and, before Pinkie even registered what she intended, with a yell of pure fury, frustration, and hatred, she let loose years of anger and hatred onto the corpse. By the time she finished, she'd pounded it into a bloody mess.
Eventually, they all gathered together and hugged, sobbing, save for Pinkie, who smiled. For her, that feeling she got as she killed her father. She basked in this new feeling, letting it run and develop. As the blood of her father dried into the shape of a violent new land, she felt herself reborn. That day, her Cutie Mark appeared, and she decided what path she would take.
* * *
I stop. “The end.”
The scared mare raises an eyebrow.
I laugh. “Oh, I know, short, right? But that's because that wasn't actually written in this book. I cited that from memory, because I was Pinkie Pie.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. I'm certain that if it weren't for the skin, they'd have kept going and not come back.
I hold up the book. “This book is...is...well, darn, I've forgotten the title.” I pout. I sit the book down and flip to the title page. “Oh, that's right. One-Thousand And One Ways to Kill Somepony With A Hammer. Good book.”
She starts yelling through the duct tape, and shifting around.
I pull out the hammer from the cavity in the book, the same hammer I used to kill my father. Oh, you thought I was going to use the hammer I was shining? No, don't be silly! That's the Happy Tuesday hammer, not the Foal Abuser Abuser hammer. It's very important to know the difference. “I always wanted to try number two-seventy-two. A lot of others were so tempting, though, so I never got to it.” I smile at her as wide as I can. “Want to try it?” I ask excitedly.
She shrieks through the duct tape.
“Glad to hear you're so excited to try it too!” I raise the hammer, and bring it down. The I do it again. And again. And once more. Then another time because I missed a spot. And then a couple more times to make sure those ribs are piercing the exact organs they need to pierce in the right places.
Also, I started singing sailor shanties as I do it.
I love my life.