The wrath of Kazan

by Macekill

Chapter 1: The day Equestria changed

Load Full StoryNext Chapter

Chapter 1: The day Equestria changed

How long had it been since he was detained to these cells? A day? A week? Perhaps months, even years?! He could not tell. It was understandable that they would lock him in the depths of the castle that they both had roamed. They, being the two so-called Princesses of this land called, Equestria. Two regal creatures that looked somethin akin to that of a Unicorn and a pegasus combined! Of course he knew the true name, but they just sounded silly to him! Really, an Alicorn? That sounds like someone combined the words: 'Acorn' and 'Unicorn.' He digressed.

The bipedal creature, once human had his back pressed against the moist stones of the dungeon. His arms were raised and chained outward from his sides. Yet, an anomaly of a limb had taken on what should have been his left arm. It looked like something out of a video game, which it probably, if not indefinitely was. The pigment of said skin was crimson which was quite odd, considering his entire ethnicity was Caucasian. Trailing down the rather muscular limb, two solid manacles were constricting firmly against his bicep and wrist. An ominous green glow pulsing from the shackles that hugged his limb feircely. His digits ended in long, two inch claws. The sharp appendages black as night.

Although the man had been sitting in this cell for an unknown period of time, he seemed rather youthful in appearance. He, perhaps was in his mid twenties, from another human's point of view. Bright, red eyes piercing the veil of darkness that was the dungeon's depths. Long, shaggy white hair hung from his head, the thick locks running well over his shoulders and down his back. Stray strands laid themselves onto the bare chest of the male, whilst his bangs concealed most of his vision. The only shred of clothing giving him a hint of modesty was his navy blue trousers.

It would be inpolite if he did not explain just what had happened, that landed him in this equine land. Though with that we would need to delve deeper into the mind. It had been so long since he had suddenly arrived in this place, but the memory was as fresh as if he had witnessed it the day prior.


Yes, finally! I'm going to  Comic-con! Beware me, strangers! For you shall see true awesomeness! Here, all dressed up in his costume, was a young man named, Brandon. Though, his costume would probably be unheard of at the convention, it was from a computer game he played quite frequently. The game was called, Dungeon Fighter Online! A game based around a chosen character that is to save Arad---The town you migrate to in the beginning of the game---and grow in infamy and power.  His favorite character, you ask? Well, that, my friends would be the Slayer; a male character wielding a large great sword, with numerous physical and magical abilities...depending on the route taken. More specifically he was one of the various sub-classes present. The berserker, a being used as a mere vessel to house a great demon named, Kazan.

Indeed, the deranged being was one of his favorite characters to play as. Just the concept of letting the beast loose and tearing things asunder peeked his interest easily. Although, this character gave up his mortal soul for the sole purpose of gaining immense power was something concerning to him. If he had the chance, he wouldn't know if he would do the same, but this was but a game! Looking at himself in the mirror, he grinned devilishly at his reflection. He accentuated the costume perfectly! Even wearing demon-eye contacts just to fit the role more...dramatically.

He, however did not have enough money to buy the replica seals that were suppose to fit on the 'demon' arm. They were waaaay out of his budget, considering he lived in an apartment with a moderately paying job. Things were quite expensive, after paying essential bills. Nonetheless, he looked rather well. He had made some sort of feathered belt in the mean time, long, crimson feathers hanging down from his waist, as if a cape cut in half, with only the lower half left to writhe and squirm from the gentle breeze it came in contact with. With his right arm, he hefted up a large, wooden sword. The wood, however was painted with skilled precision to look a lot like the real deal! Courtesy of his older sister, Cayla. She had taken a rather odd route through her career. She shifted from job to job; always interested in something one moment or the next. This time was easily contributed to art, which she so happened to have quite the talent for.

AS he went to admire all the things he wished about his costume, and how to fix various things, a voice bellowed from the first floor. Male, obviously in pitch, but his crude friend always enjoyed cursing. "Brandon! Get your damn ass down here! We have to leave in, like, - " There was a pause from downstairs. Brandon assumed his friend had checked his watch, considering just a moment later he responded more frantically " - Thirty minutes!" That was his cue. Brandon grunted a loud enough to quell his friends ministrations in rushing him. As Brandon quickly descended the stairs. Upon his arrival a slow, but noticeable scowl took over his features. He was not particularly pleased to see his friend, John dressed up with the accessories that deemed him a Brony.

Now, john, unlike himself was much taller than him. Hell, he was six foot, two inches. But John, John was a monstrosity of muscle and height combined. He stood well over three inches taller, having a broad, muscular form and a toned body. That said, he wasn't as muscular, but it was still apparent that he had a mildly-athletic physique. Besides that, John tended to work out profusely. Hence why he was a behemoth. Yet the things he wore at the moment, made him look like someone going to a rave. A pair of white equine ears sat on his head. His short, but prominently dyed hair was something similar to pure neon, in blue coloration. Sitting on his nose was a pair of overly sized sunglasses; lenses colored in what could only be called 'Overdose on violet'. He donned a shirt with an array of various ponies clouding the fabric in their weaponized cuteness. He had some rather baggy pants. An assortment of glow-sticks, bracelets and ect were draped around his form, turning him into an incandescent pain in the ass.

"Now, John. I love ponies as much as the next guy, but really?!" Brandon exclaimed with a 'are you serious?' expression. Both of them were long time Bronies of the fandom, but even he knew that even John's 'costume' would be out of place at Comic-con!. This however didn't deter John in the slightest.

"Really what? We both know I love Vinyl. That said, I figured I'd cosplay as her, but male. Ya' know?" He asked, as if Brandon truly had all the answers to that single sentence. John's grey-green eyes peered over at his childhood friend, yet what he was met with, however was a deadpan stare. His perplexed expression died, and he sighed. "Just deal with it Brandon. I'm not changing."

Defiant as ever Mused the white-haired berserker. He simply shrugged his shoulders in defeat. The wooden sword perched upon his right shoulder moved with his own, but it was quite uncomfortable on bare skin.

With that, they headed on their way to the convention. Brandon had long since lost the battle with talking his friend out of it. Usually getting punched in the arm when he asked if an alternative was possible. John really did love his ponies...


On the highway, a plethora of cars sped down the many lanes adjacent to theirs. He was driving at a moderate pace, though he wasn't exactly following the speed limit. Let's just say the speed limit was 60. He was going 80 miles an hour! Fast and furious, right?! Nah. John did find the speed they were driving at to be a little dangerous, voicing this to Brandon a few times now and again to remind him to not go overboard.

"So, I see you're still driving the BMW your dad got you a few years ago," Came a incredibly observant John. Brandon raised a brow in question to this, glancing over to him and then to some of the interior of the car. It had been all leather, it seems. For his eighteenth birthday, his dad, unlike his mom who wanted to get him a car at sixteen, had bought him a BMW M1. It seemed to be some model from the 1990s. He wasn't very good with cars to begin with, but he cherished it. Given it's dynamic appearance and cherry red paint-job. It looked like some sort of old sports car.

"I am. Any reason  as to why you'd be asking?" His eyes were focused on the road at the moment, but he could have swore he heard something along the lines of, 'I was just trying to make conversation'. He supposed it was a proper thing to do, since it would take them awhile, but he just shrugged, turning on the stereo and flipping it to a random station. It was going to be a loooong drive.

Well, it took them much longer to reach the convention since the traffic just up and felt the need to fuck them. When they got off on the exit and made their way onto the main road, they could see the large convention building in the distance. "Ah, California! Where conventions are year-round and there aren't as many dicks attending them!" Brandon exclaimed with a bout of laughter, which John joined in on.

Having took a few minutes to park, they finally exited the vehicle and strode down the lot towards the building. Outside stood a line that stretched well down the street. God! There could have been well over a few hundred just waiting to get inside! Brandon was just glad he pre-ordered their tickets online, like a month before. Dangling from their necks, hung the badges required to waltz in and explore without having almost any wait at all. Brandon, being the dramatic queen that he was, burst through a pair of double doors and raised his sword over his head, bellowing out of the crowd. "Comic-con, fuck yea!" A  few people cheered just as he did, but otherwise he just a few odd stares, unlike John who was just attracting them like magnets.

Finding themselves drawn down one of the hallways, Brandon began the conversation with a question. "So, John. Where do you want to go first? I know there is a lot to do, lots to explore, but besides what I want to do, what do you want to do first?" Brandon grinned a little, nudging his friend in the side and waited for his response, but that at the time mattered not to him. They had the entire weekend to do what they liked. After all, they had the full weekend passes. Although expensive it was totally worth it.

John furrowed his brow in thought as they passed a few open rooms holding small events about certain games, lore and the like. The hulking brony tapped a finger to his chin, pursing his lips until he came to a conclusion. He grinned, "How about we go buy some shit? I'm sure they have a lot of cool merchandise." He shrugged, looking to the schedule they acquired near the front of the building, having to follow the small map on the back. It was certainly a good Idea, that was for sure.

This hallway was bursting to the brim with people dressed in all different costumes and even some that followed suit with what John was wearing. He just didn't understand why they didn't go to Brony con. It was understandable, but that was where they would be able to meet more people like them. The thought instantly vaporized in his mind when he passed through the doors and into a literal city of merchandise. Brandon was speechless, while John was just letting out a stream of 'ohmygod's' in rapid succession. With that, they instantly took off into paradise.

At some point, Brandon and John got separated in the sea of people. Brandon didn't mind all that much, considering if he truly had to then he would be able to just call his friend. Did John bring his phone, though? He repressed the urge to slap the shit out of his forehead, instead letting out a sigh and pushing farther and farther to the back of the colossal room. Upon doing so, he found an array of exotic items being sold by a few stands. Two people seemed to stand out from the rest. A man behind a stand was selling full on My little pony merchandise, yet it seemed like no one was actually looking at him. Like he didn't exist. The man behind the stand seemed quite mature for his appearance and the only attire visible, being his brown sweater stood out from the rest. His hair was spiked up slightly, having a two toned coloration to it. A lengthy goatee sprouted from his chin and yet his snaggle toothed grin screamed 'mischievous'. He'd be a fool not to notice that man was cosplaying as Discord, yet why here?

The it hit him. Not metaphorically, no, it hit him physically. Sending the man stumbling forward a few feet and instantly turning around to glare at whoever was at fault, only to find John standing there grinning like a fool. Brandon's anger seemed to sizzle down almost immediately as he took on an excited expression. "John! You got to see this guy, he looks just like dis-" He turned around to point at the stand that had just been there, yet it had somehow mysteriously vanished."-cord..." John raised an eyebrow at Brandon, frantically trying to explain what he had saw and where. "I swear he was there, I know he was! I literally just saw him!"

"Brandon I think you're just seeing things, man." Stated John, patting the slightly shorter male on the shoulder. "I mean I know you're excited and all, but you seriously thought you saw Discord? I love the show enough to wish that were true, but we both know that isn't happening." John sounded crestfallen with the way he said that, as if he truly wished something like that could happen to him. Fantasy and reality were worlds apart so regardless of wanting something, it would never bear fruition without some sort of work or the miracles of miracles!

Brandon glared at John as he yelled, "Really! John are you fucking kidding me?! Why would I even lie about seeing something like a mystical character?!" He screamed out, ripping the males hand from his shoulder and shoving him back. He was gritting his teeth so hard he thought he'd chip one of them. He balled his fists up, "GAHHH! Fuck this!" He exclaimed, quickly passing by John, whilst John tried to take back what he said.

"Brandon, I didn't mean it like that!" He called as the quite pissed off Brandon trudged through the crowd of people, pushing and shoving people out of the way, whilst he just upright and cursed back at them. John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he had responded to quickly, not mulling over what he just heard. Discord...Was he truly there?

-

A few moments later, lots of screaming, and finding himself in a different part of the convention entirely, Brandon found himself much calmer. Though he shouldn't of acted that way prior, he was just so mad! How could his friend not believe him?! He wouldn't lie about something like that. Who lies about meeting discord?! That shit would be memorable. He sighed, trudging on.

"I should really find out where I am right now." Brandon thought aloud. Around him was a rather dimly lit hallway, and near the end it seemed would extend in a 'T' shape. Nearing this intersection, however he found a blue glow emanating from the left hallway. Upon inspection, he nearly died of a heart attack. Yes! Someone was dressed up as the Resident Evil merchant! Wait a second... Why is someone dressed up as a Capcom character in a marvel convention? I'm confused.

"Over here, stranger!" Exclaimed the merchant from the dead end, his body shrouded in a trench coat and the same partial mask he wore to cover up his mouth and nose. Standing next to him were two stands, both flickering gently with blue flames that barely illuminated the place.  If Brandon could see, he could have swore the man was grinning beneath the cloth covering most of his face. He could see it in his eyes.

"Hello?..." Brandon called from his position, cautiously taking a few steps forward until he was merely a few feet away. His eyebrow was raised as he scanned the mysterious person over and over again. This dude looked completely identical to the one in the game. Just what the hell was happening today? First, Discord. Now the merchant? What the hell?!

Then, as eerily as a man can be when opening his trench coat, he said, "Got somethin' that might interest ya'." And within his coat were possibly the coolest things that could be sold to anyone. Ever. He saw a plethora of items he could immediately remember. Dante's ebony and ivory, Rebellion and the Red queen. How in the hell did this guy even hold all of these things?!

Then, his eyes fell on the sword. It looked like a much better version of the one he had strapped to his back. It seemed to be made from metal, rather long, and thick as well. It was the sword the Berserker carried in the game! How did this guy even get something like this?! The blue, slitted eyes of the blade even looked authentic near the base. Oh, he had to totally buy this! "How much are you asking for?" Brandon asked giddily, pointing to the large blade.

The merchant just seemed to grin even wider beneath the mask, waving his free hand dismissively as if to say, 'it's free'. Brandon's eyes widened as the man grabbed it by the handle and removed it from his coat, handing it to him handle first. "Are you serious!?" Brandon asked with a laugh, grabbing the handle of the blade and instantly grunting. Man, this thing is heavy. The blade looks sharp too. I should really be careful with this thing. While he examined the thing, the merchant laughed.

"Is that all, stranger?" He asked, raising a brow as Brandon fervently shook his head yes. With that, the merchant slowly closed up his cloak and chuckled lightly as Brandon carefully put it in the holster on his back, removing the one made of wood and instead carrying the fake one. He wouldn't just throw away something his sister made him, that'd be fucked up.  As he left, he turned the corner, only to hear behind him the voice of the merchant.

"Come back anytime!" Came the faint voice of the man from down the hall. He chuckled slightly at this. That guy was fuckin' cool. No one could compare to the awesomeness that was the sword of Kazan. Yep! That's the name of the blade. The blade, which held the demonic influence of one of the strongest demons in Dungeon Fighter Online. Twas' what made a berserker a berserker. That, and hemokinesis.

After a few moments of getting completely lost and holding in his bladder, he was frantically searching for a bathroom. Upon reconnecting with the bustling crowd in the hallways, his eyes meet the gender sign on the door. He bolted for the room and once inside revealed himself completely. Lurching towards the door to exit the restroom, his hand extended to grab the handle, only to find that his foot lost it's footing. But on what exactly? He was sucked into the void below, his screams reaching no one. His eyes glared up towards the door until it completely exited his view. His eyes tried to stay open, but he could not. Within seconds he had succumb to the darkness that drowned his consciousness.


Equestria was shrouded in darkness, the moon dimly lighting the land below it in it's benevolence. A small village on the  outskirts of the Everfree forest was quiet and, all the little ponies finding themselves tucked inside their beds. However, within the forest lay a strange anomaly. With just the presence of this beast, chaos began it's reign.

Brandon awoke with a start, breathing frantically as he sat upright on the forest floor. His crimson eyes searched his surroundings quickly. Now, the first reaction would be to ask where he was, but that wasn't going through his mind at the time. He patted his chest and other various body parts. Only stopping at his hair...His hair. This wasn't his hair! Why was the wig attached to his scalp?! What was happening! Brandon quickly shot to his feet. "What the fuck is going on!" He bellowed to the heavens, trying to calm himself down when a rather painful spasm wracked his crimson limb.

He could have gasped if he wasn't speechless. The faded dye that had been on his arm, had changed completely to that of a dark red. His digits ended in lengthy claws, and the crimson skin ran all the way up on his arms. Oh no...He didn't have seals like the character did in the game! Wait, that meant he too would become a monster. No, no no. He didn't truly wish to become something that monstrous! He just wanted to dress up like him!

Things had already been set in motion, for another erratic jolt ran up his spine, causing his legs to buckle in pain and fall to his knees. He cried out as he felt something crawling under his skin. The red skin along his left arm had traversed slightly over his shoulder, converging towards his neck and lower body. Evil thoughts, ones of blood-lust clouding his mind in rapid succession. Murder! Slaughter them all! We seek power, you fool! Why resist what you chose? Just give in. Give in to the madness, the insanity...the pleasure.~

Brandon was gritting his teeth as his hands clutched his head with such force, his red eyes glowed brightly as they began to tear up. His lips twitched and jolted now and again, undecided whether to frown with his expression, or to grin maniacally like one would if he was to truly loose his mind. He was hyperventilating before he began weeping, beads of red traveling down his cheeks as he slapped his head profusely with his demonic limb, he was hunched over, banging his head against the dirt. Screaming again and again "STOP IT! STOP! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Pain. Unimaginable pain had forced it's way into his skin like a needle, injecting the virus of what was truly to conspire. He arched his back and pointed his head to the sky as he cried out.

"I don't want this! Stop it! Just kill me!"Most of the red skin had taken over half of his body at the time, changing his form to that of a demon. His k-9's had become quite enlarge, his other teeth taking on a sharper appearance. Upon the left side of his forehead, a horn jutted forth from his cranium. The pure rays of the mood had begun changing, as if something was invading it. Morphing the light to that of vermilion. His tears were no longer tears, just an endless stream of blood running down his cheeks as he wept, that is until he just gave up. How could someone just accept madness? Blood-lust?! He let go, unable to truly endure the voices that plagued his mind.

His voice caught in his throat, moments passed as the man began to chuckle, his deep voice reverberating outwards. His clawed digits dug into the dirt like a knife through butter. "Heh...hehe..." What was so funny? He continued to chuckle before they morphed into laughter. He began cackling madly, leaning up from his hunched position as he tilted his head back, glaring at the moon. His eyes were blotted by red, no semblance of anything human left in them. A grin was plastered to his visage, threatening to split his cheek with force.

Slowly the man hoisted himself up and onto his feet, a different air about the young man flourished. He truly had become something monstrous. A beast. A berserker. His normal hand reached upwards towards his back, grabbing the hilt of his weapon and drawing it. Swinging it to his side, the spade-tipped blade was embedded into the dirt. An ominous red aura seeping from the blade. Near the base of the blade laid and organic mesh of parts, what would seem like sockets for eyes, which they were. All at once a plethora of eye-lids parted, revealing a dozen of blue, slitted eyes, which began erratically shifting.

The berserker chuckled darkly as he lifted up the large blade, the thing being almost his size in length. When the base of the blade was right in front of him, the eyes stilled and locked on to their host, a coo escaping the males lips. His clawed digits gently ran down the side of the blade as he spoke. "I sense your hunger... Do you wish to feast?" Asked the man. His wicked grin slowly shifting to that of a warm smile, like that of a mother comforting a child. A trill of agreement came from the sword as the organic mass near the base of the blade wiggled. "I see. It shall be done, then." Cackling, the man began trudging towards the direction of the town. He could sense a moderate amount of power from that direction. It would become a true slaughter...


In the distance, the princesses felt a sudden surge of ominous power raging like an inferno. Celestia had a worrisome look on her face, until a sudden flash of light caused her to shut her eyes. Standing before her, Luna immediately asked, "Sister! Did you sen-" Celestia interrupted her with a solemn nod. Luna frowned slowly.

"We must protect our little ponies, Luna. Please hurry. We must make haste, if we are to prevent whatever ominous being is to harm them." Celestia stated, Luna merely nodded and within a flash she was gone. What is this being? With that, she blinked out of existence. She only wished they would make it in time.

Next Chapter