Chapters His name, is Marcus Crelio. Not that anyone short of his teachers or his parents knew that. Marcus isn't special in any way, shape or form. He's average. He's had a few girlfriends before, but nothing that ever worked out. He's was a junior in his local high school, until one morning when he woke up, he wasn't in his bedroom. He was in the middle of a field, with what looked like a village out of his medieval history textbook off in the distance.
Marcus looked around, whimpering slightly. He stood up, finding everything to work properly with his uniform body. He wasn't fat, he wasn't skinny. He wasn't smart, nor was he idiotic. He was average, just like normal. He started walking towards the soft light of the village in the distance, noting that he woke not in his normal pajama pants and tank-top, but in his usual blue jeans, white blank shirt, and worn denim jacket. Canvas sneakers poked out form beneath his jeans, softly patting down the hill.
"Maybe I got kidnapped. Oh, wait, that means that my parents would have to have money to make people want to kidnap me." He sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around his frame tighter to protect himself from the harsh, cold morning breeze. He reached the cobblestone streets, staring at the color pallet of the tiny village. "I don't think that they used pink as a building color...but, hey, what do I know, right?" He muttered to himself. He stared down the village street to a small, dry fountain. He plodded over to the fountain, noting it was clear of stuff like dead plants.
He lifted a leg over, climbing inside and curling up in the basin, taking cover from the assaulting wind. He stared up at the comical horse statue, perched on one back hoof with a goofy smile on it's face. Marcus shrugged, figuring it was just a bad artist who sculpted the statue, or maybe it was designed by a kid. He didn't know, or care. All he knew was that this was warmer than being out in the wind, and that was enough for him.
He didn't know how he managed to drift off to sleep, but he did. He awoke to the sound of his stomach grumbling, the sound of people talking, and oddly enough, the sound off hooves on stone. He figured that if he really was in somewhere so remote they had horses, they were probably too good to help someone like him. He mentally punched himself. "C'mon, Marcus, you're 17...you should know how to take care of yourself in a situation like this. What happens when you get older, huh? You gonna call Mommy? Ask for a tray of cookies and some warm milk? No wonder you're a damn failure, and your dad didn't want you. You're a failure. Always have been, always will be."
He felt a himself prodded, a gentile push into his back. He sighed. "Great, now I'm going to get yelled at for fucking sleeping in a fountain. Just. Fucking. Great." A voice he didn't expect to emanate from behind him did just that.
"Mommy, what's this thing in the fountain?"
He looked over his shoulder. He had to admit that, while he had been called some mean things in his lifetime, more than a few of them from his parents, being referred to as a thing offended him. He was still a person, as much as least as a failure such as him could be called a person. Two bright amber eyes stared at him curiously from underneath a two-toned blonde mane. Her fur was a soft purple, and she clearly wasn't human. "When the fuck did I take acid? Was it Trevor? I bet it was TP. He's always doing crazy shit like that.", Marcus muttered to himself. The light pink pony was soon joined by another grey one, peering over the edge. The second one, however, had it's eyes misaligned.
"What is it, Muff-AHH!"
Marcus covered his ears at the high pitched squeal emanating from the second pony. "OWWWW! SHUT UP!" He yelled back. The second pony grabbed the first, taking flight. "Oh, fucking wonderful. They can fly now. What's next, flying spiders?" He paused for a moment. "Y'know, maybe that wasn't a good thing to wish for." Marcus soon heard yelling of the words 'Monster' and 'Run for your lives' being yelled at but seemingly dozens of different voices. The sound of hooves also sped up immensely, and the village soon fell quite again. Marcus got out of the fountain, looking around. The was a farmers market, with fruit stalls laden with produce. There was the obvious occurrences of daily life here, but it was all gone now. He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Great. Looks like I'm having a really bad trip."
He imagined what ridiculous cocktail of drugs he must have been slipped to get this bad of a trip as he walked slowly down what seemed like main street. He stopped in front of a large oak tree, a brass plaque with a large book on it sat outside it. He pushed aside the heavy door, walking inside the library. He stared at the bookshelves scattered around the room. He pulled one off the shelf, sitting down on a seat. He flipped open the book, looking at the title page. "Musings on the Equestrian Legal System" he shook his head, getting another. "Unicorns Throughout History". He stared at both of them, tossing them aside. "AGHHH. WHAT IS THIS SHIT?!"
The oak stairs behind him resounded the sound of someone angrily coming down the stairs. "WHO IS THROWING MY BO-WAGH~!" A feminine voice screamed from behind him. He buried his face in his hands, sighing.
"These high-pitched screams are really starting to piss me off."
Author's Note
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my newest story. I hope you enjoyed, and if you liked it, even just a little bit, could you possibly consider giving me an upvote?
Marcus was really having a shitty day. When he had gotten home from school, his mom had accused him of drinking her booze. Then she had slapped him. He had curled up in bed after the only water that would come out of the faucet was the color of rust. He had officially decided at the time: "Yeah, fuck that." He had changed into his pajamas, and gotten on his shitty 125$ bed, hoping that there wouldn't be any bed bugs in their shitty run-down shack of a house. He had curled up, hoping that perhaps tomorrow would be better, that he wouldn't have to see his dad, who would more than likely beat him for fun. Yeah, definitely not looking forward to that.
But he hadn't. There was no stoned, drunk mom waking him up at 7:50, yelling at him to get his "lazy ass" up. There was no school, with assholes he didn't care for, and no ex-girlfriends who were gonna spread bullshit lies about him. There wouldn't be asshole jocks that were going to beat the shit out of him during gym. There wasn't going to be Mr. Walters, who would say he "couldn't do anything", when he knew exactly what was going on, he just didn't give a shit. Best of all, there were no stoner assholes who were going to try and get some weed, or some smack from him. He wasn't going to get bullied into buying more joints, or another gram of meth. He had woken up in a land of talking, flying ponies. And, at the moment, he wasn't quite sure which one was better.
Marcus was thoroughly pissed off. He'd had his ears pissed off by the screaming of these pony things in the last couple of minutes, and he felt like it had broken his eardrums. There was currently a purple one picking up and throwing books at him, continuing to scream at him for, ironically, throwing books. He took what felt to be an encyclopedia to the head when he finally decided that if he was tripping so hard that it was hurting, might as well fight back. "Come on, fight back you good-for-nothing pussy! What the fuck are you standing there for, taking it like a bitch? Is that why you're always gonna get fucked, cause you're a bitch? You're going to spend the rest of your life, getting fucked by anyone who wants. You ain't gonna amount to shit." His dad's words rung through his head. He got angry, a lot. Sometimes for no reason at all, and almost always took it out on him.
Marcus reached for the ground, grabbing one off the dozen books off the ground. It felt thick and heavy in his hands. He looked at the purple pony, but he didn't see her. He saw his dad's shit-eating grin staring at him, smirking, making the "I'm going to beat the shit out of you" look. He cocked it back, staring at him.
"FUCK YOU, I'M DONE TAKING YOUR SHIT!"
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Twilight, had woken up to a normal day. The sun was out, everyone was happy. The market was open, and she was probably going to go visit Applejack, before her and Spike were going to organize the library. But then she had heard the screams. Everypony had been screaming about a monster of some sort out by the fountain. She had written a letter to Princess Celestia, asking for her to send a detachment of guards to Ponyville immediately. By the time she had stepped down the stairs, she had seen something she had never before sitting in her library. Twilight wasn't sure what it was, but it was relatively lanky, and it was really tall. It was sitting down at the moment, opening a book, but it was taller than a normal pony, and a guess would probably put him at as tall, if not taller, than the Princess herself. She thought that with such a calm demeanor, sitting and reading a book, that it might be civilized, and that meant that it was another case of the citizens overacting. "AHHHH. WHAT IS THIS SHIT?!" was followed by the sound of the book hitting the wall. She was angry now. How dare he, she...it throw her books around.
"WHO IS THROWING MY BO-" Her angry, yet logical, argument was interrupted as the creature both looked at her, and stood up. Her voice suddenly turned into a higher-pitch squeal. The creature had long, sharp teeth. It's eyes were bloodshot and it looked nearly feral. And, of course, she had to be correct in her guess that it was taller than Celestia. She considered her options, engaging him in hoof-to-whatever it called it's appendages. Or, since it seemed he lacked a horn, she could throw her most-precious books at it in an attempt to get it to flee. So she made the decision to fight it with books.
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The book left his hand, flying towards the purple unicorn. Before she could react, the dictionary impacted into her face, giving her enough surprise to cause her to slump, a small trickle of blood running out of her now-broken nose. Marcus stood there, panting, staring at his victim. "Don't...fuck...with...me..." The young man panted out. He grabbed his head. To him, the room was spinning, everything had a tint of red to it. He walked over to one of the bookcases and slammed his head into it. He saw a slight red stain on the wooden shelving. "FUCK THIS TRIP!" He yelled, looking around the cluttered library. He walked around, throwing books off the shelves, sometimes at random, sometimes depositing a whole row on the floor. He didn't know why he was such a damn failure. He didn't know why he was tripping extreme balls. He didn't know why his parents hated him, but more than anything else, he wanted to wake up.
Author's Note
I've added a dark tag, because I didn't originally intend for Marcus to be slightly crazy, as well as having abusive parents. A broken home, yes, but not abusive. In light of that, I felt a dark tag was appropriate, and I intend to use this part of his history and slowly unveil it, as will Marcus to the ponies.
It had been at least 10 minutes. The purple pony was still passed out on the stairs. He glanced at it, making sure that he wasn't going to get jumped by it as he left. The door flew open, and he stepped through. The sun had emerged from behind the clouds, and was shinning brightly. "Fuck you, sun." He said to no one in particular, squinting his eyes as it shone brightly. He kicked a stone, watching it fly into the distance. "Everything here fucking hates me. Guess that's no different from back home, is it Marcus? Back home, it was the other assholes at school. And your parents. Here, it's everything. They're practically identical." He slowly plodded his way back to the market, kicking loose cobble as he went. He took an apple from one of the stands, biting into it. At least it was sweet. That was something missing from his life. Sweetness. He thought back. When was the last time he had sweetness in his life?
"Fuck her, that fucking cunt." Marcus said, throwing the apple down in disgust. It splatted against the stone, sending apple chunks around. He began stomping the apple, picturing everything about her. "FUCK. YOU. GO. FUCKING. BURN. IN. HELL!" He yelled with each stomp, staring at the remains of the sweet, red apple. He shook his head, walking over to the fountain, with the damn horse with the damn smile on it, acting like nothing was wrong with the world. He realized he was carrying another apple. He sent it flying into the statue's mouth. It exploded in apple bits. He grabbed his jacket, pulling it tighter around him. He slumped against the fountain, laying his head in his hands. He brought his knees up, trying to hold back everything that was tearing at his insides. He felt like he was suddenly made of lead. He didn't want to move. He just wanted to die.
When Marcus finally came to, he saw a brown pegasus with a spear clutched defensively in his teeth. Marcus looked at him with fire in his eyes. "What are you gonna do? Fucking stab me? End my miserable fucking life? Kill a no life failure who will never amount to shit? Kill something that's absolutely worthless in every possible fucking way? Huh? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!?" The brown pegasus was clad in gold armor, complete with a helmet. A bright blue strip adorned the top of his helmet, like a Spartan's. Marcus began to stand, and the pony forced the spear against his chest. He clutched the spear, and to the guards surprise, he didn't try and take the spear away. Instead, he forced the spear against his chest. "Go ahead. Fucking kill me. Get it over with." The guard was really confused at that point.
The spear was against his white shirt, slowly beginning to force it's way through the cotton. Marcus felt the cold touch of the spearhead come to rest against the skin of his chest. He didn't stop, though. He kept pressing. The soft touch soon became harder, to the point where it was beginning to become uncomfortable. Uncomfortable for a normal person, maybe, but then again the normal person would be uncomfortable by having a spear pointed at them. Marcus felt right at home. This is what happened when an animal was inadequate, a failure, they were killed. "Natural selection says I should die. I'm a failed prototype. I didn't work out."
Marcus' eyes had narrowed to pinpricks, and his grin was sadistic and crazy. "Do it. DO IT!" He yelled at the pegasus. "Force this thing through my chest. Kill me. Take my life. I deserve to fucking die. I'm worthless, a failure. That's what you're suppose to do, kill the failures. Do it. Do your job. FUCKING KILL ME NOW, GOD DAMNIT!" The pegasus went skyward, taking off after forcing the spear out of Marcus' hands. A small drop of red began to spread from the mark, Marcus stared at it, slightly disappointed that there wasn't more of it. "You failed. You COULDN'T. FUCKING. KILL. ME!" The pegasus flew off, into the distance, leaving Marcus there. He dropped to his knees, grabbing a small rock. It met his face. He slammed it into his head repeatedly. "WHY...ARE...YOU...SUCH....A.....FUCKING...FAILURE?!?" He screamed. Not from pain, but from frustration. The rock was bloody, a large portion of the right side of his face bloodied form the repeated force of impact. He was trying. He was truly trying to brain himself with a rock.
He dropped the bloody stone onto the ground, blood now flowing down his face and into the collar of his shirt. He looked around, stumbling over to a comically over-sized gingerbread house. "What the fuck is this shit?!? IS THIS A FUCKING JOKE?!?! A GINGERBREAD HOUSE?!?!?!?" He didn't know why the existence of a life-sized gingerbread house made him so angry, but it did. He tried the door, finding that it was locked. Unfortunately for the door, gingerbread was not good at surviving force. The door, unsurprisingly, broke when he kicked it. He stepped into the dimly lit main room, looking around. "THE FUCK?" He studied the whole room. "IT'S ALL JUST A FUCKING PASTRY SHOP?!?" He walked over to the display counter, studying the donuts and muffins behind the counter. Marcus clenched his fist, sending it into the counter. It shattered, and he had access to the treats within. Yes, his hand was now cut up, but he got a donut out of the deal.
He bit into the pastry confection, reveling in the taste. It was sweet and sugary, the kind that told him the sweetness was just added in, unlike the apple, which had been naturally that sweet. "Nothing is naturally that sweet. She's proof of it." He sighed, sitting down at one of the table and eating another donut. "Look at yourself, Marcus. You fucked up your face, and now you're in a sweets shop, eating diabetes-on-the-go, by yourself, in the dark. Yeah, you're the definition of a god damn fucking failure." He walked over, grabbing a piece of glass off the counter. It wasn't long, but it didn't need to be. He lifted the shard into the sun, staring at the wickedly sharp razor edge. It was sharp enough to slit his throat. That was all he needed.
He lifted it, feeling it touch the sensitive flesh of his throat. He could picture it, him just bleeding out in a dark lobby, with no one around. If he was tripping, he obviously didn't have someone like Trevor to stop him from doing crazy shit like this while he was on a trip. If he was actually here, and he wasn't high, what was the fucking point? He was alone. Not like he was all that less alone back home, but he was at least with his own species. "Everything here has hated me so far. Might as well fucking end it." He put the shard down, slumping against the counter. "Might as well die with style, not sprawled out with my throat slit open." He once again pressed the shard to his throat, but when he tried to go further, he couldn't. It was then that he noticed the pink pony, holding his arm back, trying to stop him.
"Don't do it. You're not alone."
Redemption in Pink and White
Marcus stared at the pink pony in front of him. It had not only talked to him, but that it hadn't yelled at him. That was a new one. In fact, it was so new that he dropped the glass. It hit the floor with a soft clink, and Marcus made no move to pick it up. He simply stared at the pink pony, the first sentient thing that hadn't flat out let him go as far as he wanted down the road of possible suicide. There was a soft line in his neck flesh, which while not lethal, it showed that he was less than a quarter of an inch from slitting his own throat.
"You. Are not. Alone." The pink pony pulled him into a hug, her mane rubbing against his neck, her breath pressing down his back. She clenched him tightly, knowing how close he was.
"What do you know?" Marcus asked, not returning the hug to the pink pony. He sat there, at least accepting that she didn't hate him. That was new.
"I know what it's like hurting so much that you spend your nights curled up in bed, wanting escape." The pink mare locked her hooves on his shoulders, making sure he was looking directly into his eyes, and that he was looking back. "I know. I know that kind of pain. I know how much it hurts when nopony seems to love you. I know."
Marcus shook his head. "You couldn't possibly know...what it's like to be me. You don't know what it's like to have parents that beat you. You don't know what it's like to have everyone hate you. You don't know what it's like to have everyone truly want you gone or dead." The pink pony stopped, her eyes filling with tears as she pulled him into another hug.
Marcus had felt the hollow feeling that he had felt before come up as he choked the words out of his throat. He suddenly felt like he really needed a glass of water. His throat was like sandpaper, scratching his words as it left. What the pink pony said to him managed to hit him in the center of his soul. "You might not know what it's like to have loving parents, but that doesn't mean you're not loved. It doesn't mean you're alone. It means..." The pink pony trailed off, burying her muzzle in his chest, beginning to truly cry.
She reminded Marcus of her little sister. She was always trying to make him feel better. She was so innocent. so loving and caring, so ignorant to the world. She was so kind...but then he saw Him. He was there, in his room, his breath reeking of alcohol, tire tracks up his arm. He was over her, shoving her head into the wall. There was red. Blood. Her blood. Staining the wall. He didn't remember what happened but he woke up with a broken jaw. She had been sent to the ER for a fractured skull. The bastard had lied and said she had fallen down the stairs, and that he had done the same.
The thought of his innocent little sister, being the target of that bastard was too much. He lost it, loosing all control. He cried. He cried hard, clinging to the mares embrace as they cried out their sorrows to each other. The mare attempting to forget a past of neglect, the man trying to forget his cruel father.
Marcus hated falling asleep. Or, at least, when it was a case of him not planning it. When he came to, the pink mare was still clinging to him, asleep. She was asleep, and her mane was flat. He also had 3 guards with spears pointed at his face. Admittedly, he was seeing a possible silver thread to the cloud that had been hanging over him. "Maybe there is a chance that I'll have reasons to live." The 3 ponies parted ways, and a large white one stepped forward. Her wings were pressed against her side, and her horn was obvious. "They can have both...and then this one is bigger than others..."
She stared at him, and at the pink pony in his arms. Her wings puffed out. She opened a mouth, and her voice demanded attention and respect. "What are you?" Marcus paused. The last thing he expected was for one to start actually asking questions. The pony in his lap radiated warmth into him. He genuinely felt warm inside.
"I'm a human..." He paused, looking up the alicorn. "...and if I may ask a question, what are you?" She stared at him, and then at the pink pony who clung to him.
"I am Princess Celestia, I am the sovereign leader of the kingdom of Equestria. I am an alicorn, of the race of Equine. Now, I was summoned here because you assaulted my star pupil, and ordered one of my guards to kill you." Marcus nodded, he wasn't going to deny any of the thing that were more-than-likely true. He might have kicked a sacred stone for all he knew. "One question. Why?"
Marcus paused. He looked down at the pink pony in his lap, and then at the white one above him. The guards had put down their spears. "I...I don't know. I was depressed. I...I...I woke up here in the morning, somewhere completely different from where I went to sleep. I don't think I'm even in the same dimension. I...all I saw was darkness...I..." He choked up on his words, clinging to the pink pony in his lap. He looked up. He knew this kind, the kind that thought that he was just some kid that would never amount to anything, that he was pointless, and she didn't care about him. What he saw surprised him. She looked at him with eyes of compassion, of caring, of "You will be cared for". He choked on the ideas that were suddenly flooding his mind, just like a donut, being eaten for the first time in a while. It was so sweet that he was gagging on it.
"I...I...thank you..."
