Hello. I am nothing. Well, right now I am nothing. Soon I will be something. You, specifically. I look forward to it. I do not really like being nothing.
Ponies like to think of my kind as something. But we are not something. We are nothing. We are the absence of thing. We need you. You do not need me. It is a one way street. I like it that way. They tell me it feels good to become something. I would hate to be something, then become nothing. You are going to become nothing. I am glad I am me, not you.
Ponies like to think of my kind as black. You say it shows we are bad. It is true, we look black on the outside. But that is a facade. The truth is, we are all just white spaces. White spaces that need something to fill them. We have found that ponies work best for filling in those blanks. You ponies are all so colorful. You will be filling in my white space, with green, blue, and a touch of mahogany. I am very excited. You would not be excited, if you were awake right now. But you are not awake, because I hit you very hard on the head. In fact, you will be sleeping for a while now. For ever.
As I make small talk with you, I am prying your brain for memories. Soon enough, I will have all of them. Every single one. Even the ones you have repressed, or long forgotten. Not that your poor memory will bother you for very long. You will never have to worry about forgetting a name or grocery item again, because you will never be awake again. Look at me, doing you such a big favor. You probably would not think it was a favor though. Good thing you can not think now.
If you could think right now, you probably would not be happy with what I am doing. Ponies like to think of my kind as evil. We are not evil. We are only doing what comes naturally to us. Is the fish evil for catching the parasprite? Is the bear evil for catching the fish? Is the manticore evil for catching the bear? I doubt you would argue that they are.
If anything, we are good. When the predator catches its prey, the prey leaves behind a family. You are leaving behind a family. You are leaving behind two fillies named Jade Crush and Amber Wind, and a colt named Obsidian Leaf. You are leaving behind a wife of five and a half years named Sandy Shoreline. But they are not left behind. That is because I am good. I will care for them when you no longer can. Which is now, by the way.
Your family will not feel a loss, because I will make them think that I am you. They will love me like they loved you. They will love me more in fact, because I will be a better husband and father than you ever were. I am an expert on love. Making love is my job. For you it was just a hobby. See, I am doing your family a favor. Ponies like to think of my kind as parasites. But really, we are helping you.
Those around me-as-you will notice changes, but they will only notice good ones. Your boss will notice you now show up three minutes before your shift instead of two minutes late. Your wife will notice the promotion you will receive in about three and a half months as a result. Your kids will notice mommy is not drinking as much. I will be a better pony than you ever were. Your friends will notice how they no longer have to pick up your tab a few times each month. The homeless pony on Fifth and Walnut will notice the bit you deposit in his hat. The Equestrian Tax Bureau will not notice your unreported income, because you will report it. I will be a better pony than you ever were.
Those around you will notice these positive changes. They will not notice the headaches or shortness of breath they may occasionally have, or the lack of energy they have in the mornings. That is nothing that some coffee can not fix. They will not notice these things, because they, like you, are stupid.
Yes, you are a very stupid pony. You fell right into my trap. You ponies think yourselves the apex species of the land, yet you do not bother to check the pantry where I waited before you slept last night. Now I am building a cocoon around you, in a cave five miles from your house. You are dumb, and I pity you.
You ponies think that because our fanatical queen was defeated, you have won. You ponies have no idea how wrong you are. Canterlot is but one city on this earth, and your pretty princesses have little bearing beyond the puny borders of Equestria. We are everywhere, and you do not even know it. Really, you are terribly trusting and inept. It boggles my mind your kind survives so many years.
Still, if you did not exist, I would not be able to help you as I am. So as I finish sealing you in your chrysalis, I guess I owe you a thanks. What is left of your emotions and magic energy will be drained over the next few days, and soon you will be a lifeless husk. But I am a good 'ling. I am seeing to it that you do not suffer. So perhaps you owe me a thank you too? Unfortunately, you are unable to provide one, because you are asleep. I guess this exchange is one sided.
Thank you.
I was nothing without you. But now I will be something. You will not be. You will be dead, soon enough. Thank you.
Now I am something.
Now I am you.
Author's Note
The first hints of dawn are appearing on the horizon when I gently shut and lock the front door, several fresh scratches and bruises upon my body. I trot to my bedroom, where a sleepy voice inquires "Honey?"
"I'm back," I say softly, and she springs up out of bed to greet me.
"Oh, thank the sisters, I was getting worried!" She casts a small glow spell with her horn. "So, did you find what was making those bumping... is that blood on you, Moonshine?"
I chuckle nervously, wincing when she touches a sore with her hoof. "Yes, and yes. You know how something's been snatching the chickens from their coop?" I ask.
"Yes," she says, apprehensive.
Confidently, I continue, "Well, that Timberwolf won't be bothering us no more."
A smile lights up her face in the faint glow of her spell. "Oh Moonie, I'm so proud of you!" She leans in for a surprisingly passionate kiss, and I soak up her warmth, leaving her breathless.
She grins. "I'm glad I married such a studly earth pony. I love you Moonshine."
"I know," I say, "I can tell."
Suddenly, a hall lamp flickers to life, and three small figures leap toward me. "Daddy, you're back!" they squeal.
I sit down on my haunches, embracing my son and daughters, flinching slightly at the contact. "Yes kids, daddy fought a Timberwolf. But now I'm back."
"Tell us about it, daddy!" they plea, but Sandy shoos them away.
"Alright, back to bed you little monsters. Your father is probably worn out. He can tell us all about it in the morning."
"Awwww," they whine collectively as they trot back to bed. I smile, cheered by their enthusiasm.
After they're gone, I plant another kiss on my wife's horn. " 'Kay Sandy, I'm going to rinse off, then hopefully I can catch a few more hours of sleep." I turn toward the restroom.
Ten minutes later, I slip under the covers, wrapping my legs around the warmth of my companion.
"Thanks for protecting us, Hon," she whispers. Then she adds, almost a habitual afterthought, "I love you."
"I love you too," I whisper back, and the funny thing is, she believes me.
Author's Note
Dramatic Irony