Author's Note
Sorry for the feels this is my first one shot.
please don't downvote just because you hate the premise of the story.
hope you like.
one shot one chapter
The snow was falling heavily on the streets of Canterlot as the solitary white pony with the pink and purple bedraggled and filthy mane crossed the square in a white fur cape and white furry snow boots. She tread along silently, miserable in the bitter cold of the frigid air, seeking shelter, warmth and love. Her pale aquamarine eyes told a tale of sorrow, misery and woe, her childish innocence long gone in the aftermath of her destruction.
But Sweetie Belle knew something as wretched and abhorrent as her would never be loved, only used as she was daily now, by mare and stallion alike; and on rare occasions, a griffon or zebra . She thought about that word ruefully. Aborrent . She had learned that word in miss Cheerilee's class years ago, before she had gotten that accursed cutie mark. Sweetie coughed loudly, gasping in pain as she felt something wet drip into her lungs.She spat to confirm: the foreign substance was blood.
Sweetie walked on, struggling against the blizzard weakly as her nethers protested again from the cruel and unusual punishment of the night's escapades as she felt a mixture of blood, lubricant, and her own juices ran down her hind legs. Fleur, one of her most popular clients, had beaten her mercilessly less than an hour ago with a whip, as such was her dearest fetish, however unsettling it may seem to Sweetie. But the bits had bought her a cup of hot cocoa and a gram rock, so she was in a state of not giving a flying buck at the moment. She was looking forward to the upcoming high and night of nightmare-free sleep the gram of crack would give her.
She had severed all ties with her sister, her parents, and her best friends, for fear of them finding out what a bad pony she had become in the ten years since she had gotten that damned cutie mark that had wrecked her life and made it a living hell, a torturous prison and refuge she couldn't escape. For the gram rock alone now, Sweetie would be willing to do anything that got a pony's cock hard or pussy wet.'What have I become?' she asked herself in shame and horror- tinged regret.
She contemplated where her life had gone since that faithful day, when she had gotten the star and microphone now adorning her flank, which had thin gashes in the design from Fleur Des Lis' cat-of-nine tails. She sighed, leaning in a corner of the dark alley she had stopped in for a moment as she tried to catch her breath, coughing up another glob of mucus mixed with blood.
After she finished school, at Rarity's bequest, Sweetie had moved up to Canterlot and met up with Noteworthy, a musical stallion and career manager for other musician ponies. After her audition, Noteworthy had made a big show of dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief, and later in the privacy of his office, he addressed her with an overzealous amount of adoration. "Sweetie, you could be big." He had told her. "But you need some INSPIRATION."
"W-what's INSPIRATION?" She had asked. He had simply smiled and pulled out the crack pipe, lighting it up and filling the air with its acidic, deadly fumes. Sweetie's pristine, innocent hooves had shaken as she took the pipe, but she told herself she should be willing to do anything necessary to make her dreams come true. She took the hit, immediately feeling dizzy and hacking, her pure lungs protesting the acrid evil she filled them with, but then it went to her head. It was better than sex, she had thought as pure pleasure washed over her, her eyes dialating to the point where the innocent blue disappeared and they went all black.
And ever since, Sweetie had been hooked to the stuff. She did anything to get it.Noteworthy had started trading her small tastes for sexual favors, and then began letting his friends do the same, but she found the bits added up quicker if she just got cash, and she could earn nearly 100 bits a night if she acted well enough. There was the acting career she had fantasized about as a foal, she thought bitterly. She imagined many different lives when she was a hopeful young filly, crusading for her cutie mark, but this one had never crossed her mind.
She didn't notice her emaciated frame, and she would eat something maybe three times a week. Her bones were held together by fur so dirty ivory and thin it looked like paper ready to be ripped through at any moment. Every step was painful and shot lines of white-hot agony up her fragile legs. 'When did I start hurting so bad?' She wondered.
Sweetie hated herself, hated who she had become, but couldn't stop doing all of these repellant things that she despised because the high was her refuge, her salvation for a few hours.That first hit.... everytime, it was like her own personal heaven. It was what she imagined being Celestia felt like, and she always wanted more. But it never seemed quite as pleasurable as that first time, and she used more and more, trying to relive that first time in vain.
She hit the pipe, softly inhaling the lung-burning fumes, moaning softly and whinnying in pleasure, pushing her dirty, matted mane out of her face. "Oh, buck yes, that's the shit." She rasped,eyes glazing slowly and curling up in a ball, hacking and sputtering up blood in the snow, but feeling warm despite her damp, freezing clothes. Her heart rate sped up, and she slowly let the high take away the world around her that wouldn't give her a break.
She could finally dream of going home to Rarity, Scoots and Applebloom.
Sweetie was a filly again, a Cutie Mark Crusader, searching for a bright future with her two best friends, and later that day they would all go back to the Carosel Boutique to have a Cutie Mark Crusader Slumber Party with the Best big sister in the whole world, Rarity."So what cutie mark are we gonna try for today?" Sweetie asked her friends in a sweet, childlike voice, unlike the harshened one of before.
"Cutie Mark Crusaders Master Scuba Divers!" Her adventurous friend, Scootaloo, said. " You game?'
" Ah know ah am!" Applebloom shouted, smiling and making a 'squee' sound.
Sweetie Belle just smiled.
She was home.
And today might just be the day she got her cutie mark.
THE NEXT MORNING
"Oh.... Oh no!" The aquamarine pony shouted, nuzzling Sweetie Belle and checking for a pulse, brushing the snow and ice off of her cold body."Wake up! Come on, filly, you gotta wake up!!!! You're gonna catch your...."
Lyra had awoken Hearth's Warming morning to go see her friend Octavia Melody, but now Octavia's present lay forgotten on the ground as she rolled Sweetie over, knowing she was gone the moment she saw the blood beneath the young mare's body.Lyra didn't know who this young mare was, but she looked peaceful and innocently smiling even as she had choked on her own blood and drowned.
Celestia save her, Lyra thought.
The snow and a small, thin layer of ice stuck to her cape and fur, refusing to let go of the filly who had once been so sweet, naive and innocently pure as the falling snowflakes. The filly that, even in all of her discretions, was only trying to fulfill her destiny and achieve her dreams, only to be overcome by the world as her still body was being overcome by the snow.
An Angel Had Died.
Covered In White.
"Death out here." Lyra finished, beginning to cry for the lost soul in the blizzard's embrace.
