From worse to Nightmare.

by WrathOfGod519

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Dark
Length: 2017

Some socially awkward guy ends up as nightmare moon after getting stabbed.

Benny is your not so average self insert who has no social skills or really any kind of positive quality. He gets stabbed after saving a woman from being raped and ends up in equestria as nightmare moon, h-h-hilarity ensues (yes it does, I decide whats funny). rated mature on the basis of paranoia, but probably won't contain much objectionable content, definitely no horse fondling here.
Inspired by an inspiration

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-11 00:54:14 UTC

Chapter one

A scruffy looking man who seemingly hadn't bathed recently once strode through the darkness, face down, mind lost in some far off, possibly erotic fantasy bullschit that nobody would ever care about, this guy was me. I was a 20 something year old degenerate who still lived with his mother, faped to lolicon, couldn't hold down a job, still has no friends and was recently diagnosed with an autistic spectrum disorder. There's more I suppose, but it doesn't really matter to anyone other than myself... oh god I'm being too angst aren't I? ... sorry. I also feel the need to warn you that I don't know how to tell a story, so expect style and tenses to change as if written by a group of un-amused addicts at rehab being forced play musical chair literacy as a symbolic exercise for prostitution.

Anyway things were far from ideal but at least I had found my niche in life, and like an awkward parasite living on the scalp of a rapidly balding man, I rather wish things had never changed.

The light fading from the passing street lamp, rolling back into the inky blackness as I rounded the corner... Why does this need describing? It doesn't, I guess there's nothing else worthy of note, certainty not that neckbearded individual that walks with his head down in said darkness, there I go again being angsty again, but hey you try telling the story about how you got turned into an apparently frightening terror horse only to be molested by various midgets of said species without feeling just a little sorry for yourself... this isn't a porno I swear.

Anyway I tend to avoid public pathways, and the public... and anyone else really. Why else would I be trouncing around at 10:30 to order takeaway, walking past people makes me nervous you see, sometimes I stare at them to make sure I don't know them and don't have to converse just a little bit too long and they stare back. I'm kind of a fucking autist...so yea...

Don't get me wrong I don't dislike people, they dislike me or at least that's what my brain keeps telling me. I always get the feeling that I'm committing some kind of ridiculous faux pass at single every moment I'm in the presence of another human being,i-it's like..huh?... sorry... I'll rambling on about shit nobody cares about.... back to the present:

There's definitely something dread inducing about that bright delicious food factory in the distance that grows ever closer, something I imagine a normal person would feel when they're staring into the gaping anus of their drunken loved one and something hard and brown pokes out.... unless your into that, I can't judge. Like therein there's this sinking feeling in my gut when I realize that there are people waiting in line. Maybe I could take a quick detour, maybe it'll be quieter in 15 minuets, because I don't want to wait in line I tell myself, and nothing more. I know I'm lying, you know I'm lying. I know from experience that it won't be any less busy later on, my gaze keeps bobbing alternatively to the grass and destination, already feeling horribly self conscious I felt my warped, possibly damaged by 4chins imagination desperately trying to wonder back to that fantasy wherein I'm a super-powered little girl in a medieval magical setting living my life in a much less revolting way, and i had half a mind to let it... yeah...I know.... I know. But I fucking love escapism.

At this point mostly on autopilot, my mind in some dirty tavern full of orks and dwarfs and other outlandish, scantily clad bullshit normalfags don't care about I took my place out of the way at the back while 3 other people waited in line. My plan was to wait until the queue goes down to one so I don't have to stand next to anyone. Next tactic is to quickly glance around to see what everyone else is doing so i can try and mimic it and not stand out. I end up pretending to read the menus, this takes me out of my imaginary world much to my chagrin... it shocked me when I realized I'd been staring at the same spot for 10 seconds, I'm being weird again. A quick glance reassures me that nobodies noticed yet or cares, but even so. I try to make myself look busy by leaning against the wall and counting the money in my pocket, pretending to see how much I'd need for fish and chips even though I meticulously counted it before hand. tedious I know, skip ahead if you want.

'Is the room suddenly much smaller'? Honestly it feels like the walls are closing in all around me, I can feel peoples eyes on me even though my gaze is glued to the floor, just sort the money benny, fold the 5 pound note, unfold it, fold it, unfold it. I wipe the sweat from my head, vaguely aware of the next guy in line ordering his meal, almost there, ALMOST. Another man joins the restaurant, he takes his place in line as I watch from the back, my heart sinks like a young man trapped in a retirement home with an old guy who just shit himself.... while you where bathing him. He took my spot and probably absolutely did not didn't even realize it. I read the text on the 5 pound note, staring at the queens head obsessively. 'I don't know what to do here!' I imagine stuttering to the man in front using my monotone lisp, saying that actually I was in line and he had inadvertently cut in, but failing to even constitute my words. Dread fills me rather like a choir boy trapped inside a church on valentines day, that won't be happening.

Well...maybe I should just leave, pretend I don't have enough money and casually saunter out and into the cool freedom of the night feeling like batman. But then again I haven't had anything to eat all day, my stomach hurts... curse my inability to feed myself!

As I'm in the process of pussying out of brief social interaction (it's exactly as pathetic as it seems)  an old lady wonders into the shop and takes her place in line besides the man, aw shit why am I such a fucking pleb. My head glances around as if to check for dangerous predators. fuck fuck ok, maybe I'll just stand behind her and hopefully nobody will notice what a fucking retard I am. I get into manual walk mode and awkwardly hobble over to where I very clearly should have been standing, each step painfully unautomated and full of unease, thanks spinal cord you useless piece of shit, way to puss out. Quick gotta distract myself, can't deal with this malarkey.. , and why do I always go into manual walk mode when passing groups of people in the street?

"Excuse me" I mean I'm just minding my own business when my brain decides MANUAL WALK MODE ENGAGE as if it was a mating dance to attract- wait hold up did that old lady just talk to me!!!!

I can imagine sound of my head turning being akin to rusted iron as I awkwardly pull myself way from fiddling with the damned note. That was a metaphor for how fucking anxious I felt, i saw it in anime once. Yey me.

"u-uh" I stutter, I can just tell I've fucked up somehow. And majorly so.

"Were you waiting in line dear?" Oh MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING.

"....u-uh...y-yea..." my mind is drawing all sorts of blanks right now, try not to panic man, don't panic. definitely not the time to PANIC!

She smiles this motherly smile and mentions for me to take her place, manual walk mode activate. Is it getting hot in here? I think my face is turning red.

She puts a hand on my arm and smiles, I wish I could jump off a building.

"You should really speak up if someone pushes in front of you sweetie" Oh. My. God. She thinks I'm retarded, I mean... I am retarded but not THAT retarded, but I've clearly made myself look like a retard. I feel a thousand eyebrows raising in my direction, the walls spiraling in, I'm breaking out in a sweat. This is a fucking disaster.

The guy in front turns a a quick glance towards me for less than a second but doesn't give up his spot, I can imagine his utter disdain for one such as myself.

I'm trying really hard to control my breathing right now, my eyes jumping around from the floor to the counter to the 5 pound note sitting idle in my clenched palm. It's like a bloody furnace in here, this shit is hell, I'm literally in hell. It's like everything is moving in slow motion, why can't I just say fuck it and run away. Why do I fuck up everything I do.

"And what will you be having sweetie?" Well it seems the momentary lapse from reality have been interrupted, the way the lady at the counter said that just seemed so amazingly condescending ...shit, shit she thinks I'm retarded too, maybe I am that retarded... oh shit what's that look for! how long have I been standing here like a gormless tosser,say something mouth!!!

"...ish a-and cips plz" it seems my mouth has decided to mutiny, what the fuck is wrong with me those won't even words!!

"Sorry what was that?" It's like she's talking to a child, and for once this isn't just my fucked up negatively warped perspective due to crippling social anxiety speaking to me, this shit is real. I have fucked up, fucked up, I have fucked up now. Am I really just standing there staring? It's like I'm having a weird out of body experience, as if it's not me at the counter but some guy who looks like me and also coincidentally like a hobo. Seems my brain has decided to turtle up and offer some not so reassuring advice for my body that vaguely feels like 'sssshhhhhh, just let it happen, it'll all be over soon dear' . The hobo points at the fish, haha what a fucking pleb. You're meant to order with words idiot, everybody point and laugh at the spacker. Feels good not to be that guy.

Yet It just seems to take forever for the fish to be wrapped and end up in his hands, the mongoloid at the counter leaves and I step out into the cool night, I'm finally back in myself as strange as that may sound. A long shuddering sigh of relief exits my bearded mouth and I frantically run my sleeves over my face to wipe away the buckets of sweat drenching my face. If there's one thing I know it is this, I can never go back. This is concerning because I'm rapidly running out of fast food takeaways that cater to my nocturnal lifestyle.

Sometimes, well most of the time when it gets particularly bad, I have this nasty habit of going into a spiral of despair after talking to people, where I rerun the scene that just transpired over and over again in my head compulsively, my hand feels up my chest, hearts beating frighteningly fast, hands are trembling, head cold to the touch yet feels like it's on fire... holy shit did I just have a panic attack over ordering fish and chips, what a fucking looser.

It is at this point I have realized I only ordered fish, that and I'm not walking home, just through some back alleys, i have no idea where i'm going. Funny that huh? Don't feel quite right, kinda disorientated actually. Y'know what? Fuck it, it's too much, back to the escapist loli fantasy, I don't even wanna be here anymore. And so off I fuck to parts unknown to decency.