My Lack of Faith

by oron61

Rating: mature
Tags: Random, Human, Dark
Length: 4311

A neurotic, depressed misanthorope is trapped in equestria with no hope of escape. Will he manage to get over his conviction that humanity is evil and that his influence would make all of equestria go to awfulness? Probably not!

Contains heavy religious overtones. Tags subject to change if I am able to change the tags.
This is my first story. Rage, flames, and Grammar Nazis welcome. I have no idea if I will ever bring this to completion.
Written in 1st person. The first part is all dialogue of the human talking to Celestia if you didn't figure that out already.

This is a totally original HiE with Anonymous, a totally original name. This is a manifestation of random ideas rolling out my head and through my fingers.

This is a maniacally egotistical work with the main character being a glorified reflection of myself. I will admit that straight out right now. I think I will name the character later. I think Gary Stu would be fitting. I really have no idea where I'm going with this.

I may or may not add a piece of cover art soon.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-14 13:10:01 UTC

Isolate

So, Princess, Celestia, you want to talk about man? You better prepare yourself a barf bag, then. It’s a wonderful story.

We began with our God- probably the same one you have. He decided to make us in what he called his own image- or we were made from millions of years as monkeys—no one truly knows which… he wanted to make us into something important, I guess. It’s come to my attention that he likes his creations; I suppose he wouldn’t be creating them if be didn’t.

Anyways, he made two of us, the female to keep the male company- strangely not the other way around. It just so turns out that the female decided to go ahead and do the one thing that God told her not to do- it seems he wanted to give us free will of some sort. She convinced the man to follow suit, and we lost all of our magical power in one day.

Yep. No magic whatsoever. That’s why you couldn’t trap me with your magic. I’m completely immune.

The direct offspring of the couple got into a conflict, and one of the murdered the other. I don’t find it all that surprising. It is surprising, however, that one got jealous that the other was pleasing God more with his praise- just so happening in the form of food sacrifice- he seems to find the smell of burning food pleasing.

Humanity multiplied, and God found us so disgusting, that he took the best family that he could find, ordered them to build a giant boat to put samples of all of the animals known then, and flooded the world to purge it of us. It’s just too bad that we are the only sentient beings there.

Nope. We’re the only ones there. Gorillas, Monkeys, Chimps, Orangutans- they’re all animals. None of them talk, none of them communicate beyond requesting food. They have no creative powers. We’re the only ones.

Anyways, after doing that, God promised that he would never flood us again. I have no idea why, but he did, and he’s not going to do the best thing that we have gotten so far.

What do you mean I’m taking a dark view on us—you don’t think we could possibly be all that bad? I’m barely getting started, misteress. This is going to be a long talk. I’ll start from the beginning after that.

The people split apart into different nations …

…300 or so of them decided to buy enough time for the Greeks to regroup. They killed hundreds, maybe thousands of Persians…

… pouring tons of salt on everything around Carthage so that nothing would ever grow there again.

Eventually God decided to send himself in a human form to give us a free trip to heaven....

...No, it was not well; they murdered him and scattered his friends. He-  kinda- quit talking to us after that, with exception of the few better people on this world, most of whom are considered to be insane.  Anyways, where was I? Oh right. Eventually the Romans were conquered by Germans, who were being displaced by the Huns…

…here’s another barf-bag for you; I brought several in preparation for this meeting…

…the community of believers turned into a corrupt clusterfuck institution that accepted money from rich people that they might have license to to horrific things to other people. Indulgences. No, I’m not kidding; this literally happened; each and every word I am saying to you happened. Anyways, where was I?...

…Ohhhh hohohohohohohhhh,  I’m not even halfway finished with the story. Do you think you can keep going? Do you need another bag? Oh please stop crying...

… actually, now that I think about, the good things that resulted are still kinda bad, so never mind- they were the worst thing in that millennium. There was even a thing that happened when a few ‘holy men’ decided to get a bunch of young orphans to form their own crusade– though half of them died on the way and those that survived were sold into slavery—which was all part of the plan…

…spreading disease through the entirety of both continents, wiping out the majority of the population…

…weapons capable of shooting hundreds of lead stones in a minute, all flying straight at about 1000 feet in a second- that’s enough power to cut a man in two…

…no, Mustard gas was the nickname– it supposedly smelled like mustard. It’s a mutagenic blister-forming gas that kills you– if you didn’t have a gas mask, you’d typically drown in your own blood. Well, looks like you’re just hurking now. I’ll take that bag off your han– ah– hooves, and get you a bowl and some water…

…literally made wax candles and soap out of their flesh after suffocating them in poisonous gas chambers…

…miles down the road in the heat without water. They didn’t even bother to shoot them- they just impaled them with their bayonets…

…the device that destroyed the entire city in one fell swoop, twice, eventually forcing them into unconditional surrender…

…devices pointed at each other, capable of wiping out ¾ of the population in less than 12 hours…

Mercy? Hahaha! I will not relent until you come to your senses. I already told you- you do not want to establish communications with earth. Our people are worse than animals– in fact, to even compare them to animals would be an insult to animals!

… and that leads us up to this very day, and the war continues.

Why are you still here? Unless you’re here to destroy the world, I really don’t see what you can do for us, here.

No, you cannot take me with you! Let me  give you a little analogy: mold is a fungus in our world that grows in the damp, dark places in our lands. It is usually poisonous, sometimes toxic and infectious. It ruins foods, and attracts the small things that eat the dead.

In this little analogy, humans are mold. Mold that releases spores with rapidly multiplying infectious cells that will get into your respiratory system and make you die a gagging, pitiful, painful death– if any pony is within a mile’s radius for the next 3 months at the site of your infection, they too, will get infected.

…

No, Princess Celestia.  We are that bad. I have seen the horrors of human actions in school playgrounds– the exclusiveness, and bullying and violence–It is in out nature– in our blood! You can take the human out of the violence and suffering, but you cannot take the violence out of the human. We have tried to make good societies before– great experiments– they’re called utopia-s. There’s a reason they’re called Utopia. ‘Utopia’ literally means ‘nowhere’.

I have seen your people. Your people are loving and kind and patient, longsuffering, and brave. Your people have no purpose but to spread joy and happiness to each other; they are filled with such love that only married couples feel between the bitterest of relations among your kind.

Our only three forces in our nature are fear, greed, and pride.

No. Get out of here, Celestia. Never come back. I’m afraid that my mere presence has defiled your hooves.

NO! You can’t! You're going to take me to your world? You're gonna-

“… and our little ponies have been living in harmony ever since.” I smiled at Princess Celestia’s conclusion to her story, and then frowned at my own. Her race had gotten through a series of hard times, adapted, overcame, and coöperated with each other. Mine had gotten through hard times, adapted, overcame, and killed each other, bringing even more hard times, requiring more and more adaption through violence.

“What’s wrong, Anon? You seen stressed.”

“Remember when I told you about what our first kind did? about when we first disobeyed our creator? Did your people do anything like that?”

“No; he decided that our race was destined for glorious things after we passed on, and assigned me and Luna as guardians over our people. He bade us farewell, and left us with a way to contact him, and has never needed to speak to us since.”

“My people have sinned; your people haven’t. My people are corrupt; your people aren’t.”

I realized something with a surge of fear. You as the reader might not understand what was going through my head at the time, nor do I fully understand my conviction, but I was thoroughly convinced that my presence would spread my sin, that my presence would corrupt the ponies of this world and cause them to sin, and to suffer, and to lose their magic like my people had lost theirs so long ago.

I thought in my head that if I stayed in Equestria, I would bring down their race to its knees and my presence would spread disharmony. I panicked.

Celestia managed to calm me down after a couple of hours. Though she was unable fo convince me that my sin would not spread, she did manage to get me to talk.

She then had to inform me that the portal was accidentally permanently closed…

3 days later…

…then I was diagnosed with depression.”

“Depression? As a disease?”

“Yes, you know, clinical depression.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“It’s–  well, imagine the corners of your lips, where you smile.”

“Yes?”

“Now imagine a little hook wrapped around each corner, and a lead weight dangles from each, forcing your face into a frown, making it take a great amount of effort to smile.” The Princess mused over this.

“Now imagine another set of weights at the outer corners of your eyes, making them frown, too. Now wear this for the rest of your life.” Celestia’s eyes widened.

“So it makes you sad? It’s hard to be happy or smile at all?”

“Oh, you can easily smile, but only if it’s a fake smile. There is no cure– you can only treat it constantly. They give me pills and medicines and have doctors talk to me about my problems.”

“What would happen if you didn’t get treatment?”

“I’d kill myself.” Even I was surprised at how calmly I said that.

There was a long, awkward, shocked silence.

The princess started laughing, nervously, not really understanding. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, you’d what?”

“I’m serious, I’d kill myself.”

“What? Why?” All mirth left her voice.

“The pain. I wouldn’t be able to stand the sadness any more. Death would be the only way out. I don’t wanna die, but if I weren’t treated, I could lose control and try to do it.”

Another long silence. The Princess gaped in horror, an invisible barrier had broken both inside her, and in between her and myself. I saw tears rolling down her eyes.

Before I knew it, she tackled me to the ground, kissing me everywhere on the face, sobbing in my neck, refusing to let me go. I felt more affection than any human had ever shown me before. Everything she did told me: ‘Your life is too precious to let go. I will never allow you to die like that. I will now take it upon myself that you have plenty to live for. I won’t let you go. Never.’

Now I knew that my new life here was going to be so much better than it was. I was afraid.

I sat in the garden, sitting on one of the stone benches, by bony butt hurting against the hard stone, barely padded enough by the custom-made pants I was given. A beautiful white unicorn with a curled, purple mane came from some distant town to custom-tailor them, all in less than an hour in combination with the other clothes she made. I now understood why unicorn magic can let you run a fashion business all by yourself.

She was startlingly elegant. I could do nothing but stare at her beauty as she threw her tape measure around every dimension of my body, taking notes for some other pony. She had introduced herself by the name Rarity. She asked my permission to take notes for one Twilight Sparkle.

Rarity didn’t understand why I wouldn’t allow her to remove my underwear. None of the ponies seemed to until, desperate, pleading with her to not remove it, told her that humans don’t have a sheath like horses do, and because I was circumcised, I didn’t even have a foreskin. She quietly backed down and stopped taking notes…

I sat in the garden now. My stylish and well fit trench coat blew in the wind. I heard the sound of hoofsteps in the snow, crackling against the frozen grass. Princess Celestia came into my right view, noticing that I was overlooking Ponyville from the mountain.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Yes,” I said serenely.

“Why are you still out? I’ve just lowered the sun; it’s getting late.”

“Because this place is more beautiful than it is cold.” Celestia sat down next to me.

“I don’t understand you. What’s so beautiful about this place that you risk catching cold to see the sun set?”

“Well,” I said, taking a deep breath, trying to put things into perspective, trying to get my mind out of the bliss I felt when looking outside. “I suppose in order to see beauty, you have to first see ugliness, and contrast them. Take me, for example.” Celestia almost interrupted me for putting myself down, but I raised my hand to still her.  “All the ponies cringe and gawk at me; the nicer ones look at me pityingly or not at all, while the nicest ones try to give me a makeover, quickly giving up since I don’t have a fur coat. You have to admit, I’m not a very charming alien.” Celestia lowered her head in shame, and said nothing, refusing to lie to him, but unable to convince herself otherwise. She tried to force her mind to point out any sort of natural spot of beauty in him, but couldn’t.

“Human cities are much uglier than I’ll ever be, even when I get old and my skin gets all wrinkled and blotchy and my hair starts to fall out.

“There are so many people. And all the buildings are unkempt and dirty, and people walk to work or drive in their smelly noisy cars in long lines on a gray cold stone pathway; dull lights and clouds of brown dust pollute the skies and make the stars impossible to see,” I pointed up to see the beginning of Luna’s newest painting.  “Food is made on giant farms in bulk and put through assembly lines with no personal touch at all, bland and miserably flavorless,

“No one says hello to the random stranger in the streets of the Northern Cities- you’d be lucky if anyone were to save you were you to be mugged.”

“Mugged?”

“Robbed. Someone points a gun or a knife in your face and takes your money,” I blurted in brutal honesty. Celestia cringed.

“Everything is gray and sad- but I suppose that I’m lucky to live in the Southern part of my country.”

“Why doesn’t everyone escape the city and live there?”

“Two reasons: they might not find work to do there,”

“Oh. Right.”

“And secondly, they are too proud to go. They don’t want to get labeled as a Southerner. You remember in my stories about slavery and racism?”

“You told me that it ended 50 years ago.”

“They don’t think so- and in some ways, they’re right, and there’s still discrimination, though I never saw any of it in my whole life living there; but I told you about the Southerners’ way of life and they didn’t use much education before the war. Obviously, the North is going to label them as stupid and uneducated, scoff at their accents and accuse the wealthy of swindling, make them all out to be simple and dumb, and hate on them for their faiths…”

Celestia started crying again, like she did many times when I told her my stories, but since she was sitting next to me, she held on to me, reminding me of when I told her about suicide. The warmth of her body and the closeness of her presence was more blissful than anything I had ever imagined looking out off the mountain.

I hugged her back, unable to get close enough to her. “I’m scared, Celestia. I’m scared that this is all a dream and that I’ll wake up at home and never come back…”

Inquire

Princess Luna’s gaze peered through the bright morning reflected by the snow.

“Strange, isn’t he?” Luna started at her sister’s voice. She realized that she had been staring at the human out on the wall for thirty minutes now.

“Are all humans like he?” asked Luna.

“He assured me that most hum ans don’t act the way that he does. He calls himself an introvert, and an eccentric, that his personality is unusual, and that he sticks to his ideals, while holding a subtle understanding of others, but doesn’t like social conflict.”

“What are his hobbies?”

“He says he plays piano. I had the servants pull out an old Gryphon’s grand piano and he played it. It was lovely.” Luna looked out toward the human, who was wrapped in a dark cloak.

“I like his tastes.”

“The way that he dresses all gray and dark?”

“That, but– the way he carrieth himself. And the way he moveth– but why doth he sit out on the wall and look out so?”

“He– said that he loves this place and how beautiful it is.  He’s told me many times how ugly his world is, comparing it to–” Celestia stopped, and lowered her gaze.

“He’th compared it to what, sister?”

“Himself.” Luna looked back again.

“He think’th he’s– ugly?”

“Yes,” said Celestia. Luna snorted.  There was a short silence.

“I think he’s beautiful.”

“In a way, I think so, too, sister; somehow on the inside.”

“I mean not just within, but outwardly as well!”

“How so?”

“Just as I have stated- dost thou not see? the elegance of his form? the tall, gait so full of grace? See’st thou not the slender, graceful sprite in his step that I see? I see the spirit of the deer within him: yon long legg’d man, as so thou say’st he calleth himself, how he moveth for but one moment with the burden of fell terror on his back, yet another with the flower of spring. I see myself in him, past and present: my present self in his distress, so reminiscent of my millenium on mine own moon ere my return; my past self in his glory through my youth, and his light step reminiscent of our younger years together ere my fall and torment and despair.”

Luna began to cry.

“Luna,” said Celestia. “Go talk to him. He’s full of wisdom. He’s reminded me of the beauty of my own land. I had forgotten how well off we really are– until he told me about his own world. Go, ask him anything: you’ll learn from a few words of his mouth more than I’ve learned in this past century.”

“I’m not worthy, dear sister! I’ve seen his wisdom from afar; I’m not worthy to scarce gaze upon his noble form! Just by his gait, just by yon human’s walk have I seen the burdens he carrieth on his shoulders!”

“Luna, even if that were true, and it’s not, he wouldn’t know that. Go talk to him.” Luna continued crying, but nodded, promising she would.

I was looking out over Canterlot, standing out on the wall. Unicorn gentry were greeting each other and the common laborers, speaking in friendly, upbeat fashions. Listening carefully, both groups spoke in their own languages: the gentry speaking almost in verse, and the laborers speaking in prose so basic I thought I heard them say “y’all” once or twice. I went from smiling to crying in joy when I saw one of the gentry helping a window washer after he fell on his face when he tripped over a loose part of the cobblestone street.

My tears of joy went to mourning, though, as I thought back to Earth, where I knew that the surrounding people would just keep walking, and the gentry would simply keep their noses in the air, and not even the fellow workers of the washer would help him. Crying on the parapet, one of the guards noticed me and flew off.

I payed little note to his action until I felt the wind of wings behind my back. Looking behind me, I saw Luna land with concern in her eyes.

“My dear human, why criest thou so?”

I responded in my own Elizabethan tongue, “Majesty, I am not worthy of your concerns. ‘Tis  too cold for yourn elegant hoof to step out here.”

“Oh, but I implore thee, speak thine heart– or at least let us go hence to the castle.”

“Dear Princess, you are an angel.” I meant it literally as I began walking inside on the parapet wall with her. “and your people are so good to one another. Look yon– you see the sky-coatèd lady who hath just given her scarf to the washer?” Luna peered over the parapet.

“Aye, and ‘tis ‘thou’ to thee*,” she said, relaxing at my way of speaking in response to hers.  I had heard about her banishment and difficulty fitting in, especially with her speech. I took it upon myself to be sensitive to that.

*(The second person in English is used in place of the plural ‘you’ when formalities are dispensed with, in the same way that Spanish and French does. When she said it’s ‘thou’ to him, she said that he can address him as an equal.)

“As you wish– er– thou wist. Whence I came, she would upturn her nose and move along: no regard for him whatsoever.”

“How could that be? Is there no harmony in thine ‘ome?”

“Nay,” I said. “Man doth not live in harmony. We split into familiar  factions and wage war upon one-another, steal amongst each other; it hurts me so to tell thee again. Ask thy sister if she is willing to tell the story again. In short, we were given the choice, and we were deceived and we fell.  We committed sin, something which you ponies couldn’t think to do, for there is no sin to commit here. We are not but evil incarnate.”

“We see naught of such; I see good in thee.”

“Oh? Pray, then, lift me with thy magic.”

“Very well,” she said, and lit her horn. Straining her face in effort, her magic aura failed to even surround me. I opened the door before us which led into the castle.

“See’st thou? There is no magic in me. The magic of friendship doth not affect me in the slightest. When thou wast consumed by the Nightmare, thou would’st have eagerly turned me into thy minion because of my darkness. Evil is in my nature and can’t be removed.” Luna stared at me in shock as I closed the door behind me.

“Surely– thou’rt no longer among humanity, but among us. Surely, there must be a way to purge this so-called nature from thee?”

“There is no cure, Luna. A selection of us will be rewarded when we die, but never as we live.”

“Hast thou no faith in thine own race?” I chuckled at this.

“If I did, I would be a fool. We have fought wars with, enslaved, tortured, murdered and raped each other. Dost thou know what rape is, Luna?”

“Nay; what is it?”

“If I were to rape thee, I would force sex upon thee without thy consent– usually without consideration for thy comfort at all. ‘Twould make thee bleed.”

“Then why dost thou tell me of this? If thou wast so evil, would’st thou not hide this from me?”

“P’raps, Luna, I say this out of pride. I said so because I wish to impress thee with my ‘nobility’ in admittance of my flaws; to elevate myself in thine eyes by a display of humility.  I know I did, even if I didn’t mean to. There is always a selfish desire within me, Luna. It matters not what good thou see’st before me: it will always be done for an evil purpose. Even now, I know not; but there is always a selfish purpose behind every word I speak.”

“I see not so, but gentleness and consideration for my well-being, human. Dost thou truly hate thyself so?”

“Luna, I despise me with all my heart and passion. I see naught but what thy subjects see: a monstrous wyrm. Thy sister’s insistence is all that keeps me from purging thy world of my presence.”

“How so? Celestia hath told me that the portal is closed; that thou can’st not return home. How could’st thou ‘purge’ thyself from this world?”

“Simple, Luna. I will kill myself, even if Celestia refuses to allow it.”

“Kill thyself?”

“If I loosed control of myself, Luna, I know not what I might do; I would attempt to rape thee if thou wer’t vulnerable and I lost control. ‘Tis a constant battle to control myself, believe me, Luna. Thou hast wished me to reveal why I weep; there thou knowest.”

“Anon– no– no. I shall not let thee kill thyself. There is good in thee; why dost thou not see?” We had made it outside my bed chamber.

“Luna, there is none to see,” I felt bitterness rise in my voice. “and if it’s ‘thou’ to me, then thou wilt leave me be,” I said as I crossed the threshold to my bedroom and moved to close the door.

“I will show thee thy good; thou wilt see!”