When They Come

by anonpencil

Rating: mature
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Profanity, Gore, Violence, Princess Celestia, Dark, Death, Human, Anon, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Other, Romance, Sex
Length: 45893

Ponyville is in turmoil after a horrific incident, the likes of which the small town has never seen before. Anon offers help, but he's not prepared for the twists of fate which engulf him and Twilight as they investigate the attack of a young filly.

Ponyville has always been a peaceful place. Friendship reigns supreme, business thrives, and everyone carries on about their productive and happy lives. Anon has found he likes it here, and is just settling into his new life.

Then, one bleak dawn, everything shatters.

Now, Anon and Twilight Sparkle are left with the task of unraveling the mysterious circumstances surrounding a vicious attack on a young filly. And no matter how prepared Twilight thinks they are, neither of them are ready for the journey they're about to face. Their search for answers may uncover not only the horror of what really happened, but things long forgotten about Anon's past, feelings no one knew were there, and the very nature of what it means to exist in Equestria.

WARNING: Contains Anon, blood, consensual sex, lots of swearing. Also, upsetting imagery involving young ponies. This is not one of my usual comedies.

Published 2015-09-26 23:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-16 21:44:57 UTC

Chapter 1: The Run

Author's Note

After this, I'll be putting author notes at the bottom. I just wanted to give a brief foreword on this story before you begin.

When They Come was written around the beginning of Season 2 of the show. Because of this, these events are meant to take place during that time frame. This story contains several tropes and themes which were not as common in pony fiction at the time, many of which became commonplace afterwards, and even overused.

This story will contain a lot of blood, will contain OCs (sort of), and will contain a human in Equestria, namely Anon. This story will also eventually feature romance, distressing themes involving young ponies, violence, and other things of an edgy nature. Please be aware of this before you continue.

Lastly, if you are a normal reader of my work, please note that this is not my usual brand of comedy. This is not vomit-filled, silly, spectacularly inappropriate fetish fodder. This is -gasp- more serious in nature. If you want something less...this...just go read Hole in One again. Don't lie, you know you want to.

Anyway, please enjoy this old story of mine, and thank you.

-Pencil

Chapter 1: The Run

The first thing that you’re aware of when you wake up is that your head hurts. Oh god, does it fucking hurt, worse than you’ve ever felt it before. You start to open your eyes but the world swims and the pain worsens, so you shut them again. You take a few slow steady breaths till you feel your head go still inside, then try again.

A vast, dark sky greets you as everything slowly focuses. It’s still night out, but there’s a slight glow to your right, hinting at the possibility of a dawn soon to come. The starlight is quickly fading and a few stray clouds sail slowly and silently above you. Really, it’s another peaceful-seeming night in Equestria. The grass beneath your head feels damp from this morning’s dew, and as you reach up to touch your head where it hurts, you find your hair is matted and wet. When you bring your hand down, you can feel that wetness still on your fingertips.

The next thing you are aware of is the blood.

You stare at your hand, bewildered at the sight of it. The stain is near brown, old. You’ve been bleeding for some time now, you realize. But what has happened to you? You wrack your brain, but you’re not honestly sure. No memory of the injury initially comes to you. You sit up slowly, testing your limits to see what hurts you and makes you dizzy. The motion makes you spin a little, but things stay steady enough for you to notice the lights of Ponyville in a nearby valley. Your injury must not be too bad, you tell yourself. Maybe it’s just a scratch or…

You freeze and just stare at what is lying at your feet.

The pony is young, just a year or two past getting her cutie mark, but not someone you recognize from town. Her mane is a muted orange, her body a light pink. She is lying just past your feet, motionless, and the cut on her head makes you think that you have no right to complain about your own injuries. Blood has pooled below her face, which rests slack-jawed and still on the grass. Flecks of dried brown dot her main and forehead, all encircling a several inch long gash that looks like it goes in deep. Possibly to the bone.

Wordlessly you scramble up to your knees and press your fingers below her jaw. Is this how you take a pony’s pulse? Damn it, you haven’t been here long enough to know this kind of shit yet. To your relief, you feel a murmur there, though it’s faint and irregular. You shake her shoulder but there’s no response.

“Miss?” you call. Then a little louder. “Miss are you alright?”

Stupid question, she’s obviously not. You’re beginning to panic a little and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

Your shirt is already torn and ragged, but you hastily and clumsily tear off a piece and press it over the gaping angry wound above her left eye. Warmth moves across your hand as the blood seeps into the cloth. She’s still bleeding, so that means her heart is still pumping. Which is good, right? But what now? The hospital in Ponyville might be open, but you're not entirely sure where that is from here. You haven’t seen signs of an ER or anything like that in your short stay either, so it might not be equipped for an emergency like this right now. But she needs help, more than you can give. You wrack your brain for a solution, putting firm pressure down on the wound all the while.

You’re not willing to brave a trek through the Everfree forest while it’s still this dark out, though Zecora would probably help if you knew how to navigate that maze-like woods. Rarity is closest, but it’s unlikely that she’ll wake up this early. Her and her beauty sleep. Twilight, however, loves to get up early and can do magic. She’s your best bet.

You slip your arms around the pony’s body, one arm around her chest, the other behind her back legs, and hoist her upward. She’s surprisingly light for a pony, and you’ve never held one like this before. There’s a smell about her too, something almost…flowery. No time to think about it now though.

You start walking, making sure your head can take those first few steps before you try to develop a pace. But the adrenalin is surging in full force now and the pain is fading fast. It’s only a few steps more before you begin to run. The pony’s head bounces against your chest with each stride, and you pray you’re not making her injuries any worse. You hold your precious cargo closer, tighter, trying to steady her.

Your foot catches a branch as you move. You stumble, but you don’t fall.

The hills are flying past now as you near Ponyville. You barely hear your own footfalls over the heaving of your breath, the blood rushing in your ears. But you don’t care right now. Have to get to Twilight’s.

Your lungs are screaming at you to stop now. You’re too tried. You’ve lost too much blood. The dizziness is getting worse, you need to take a break. But you tell your body to ignore all that for now, force the internal warning lights out of your head.

Has it been seconds? Minutes? How long have you been running? It's impossible to tell.

The branches of her library loom up ahead of you, and you feel a rush of relief as well as a rolling wave of nausea come over you. Just a little further, you urge your feet. Just a few more steps now. You have to. There could be a life at stake.

As you reach the front step, your legs finally slow and you stop, swaying and unsteady in front of her home. Your hands are full of pony, so you kick hard at the door of the library to try to get Twilight’s attention. When no one answers you kick again, as hard as you can muster without falling over. You can’t tell if the pony in your arms is still breathing or not, but you just know that have to get her inside. Now.

“Twilight!” you yell, your lungs already burning with the run. “Twilight! Open up, please!”

It’s surprising even to you how pleading and desperate you sound.

From inside, you hear a brief scraping of movement, and your chest tightens with hope and anticipation. After what feels like an eternity, the door creaks open and a very sleepy looking Twilight regards you. She looks pissed off, but you don’t care right now.

“Anon, what-"

And then she sees the pony in your arms. She gasps and looks from her to you with horror and shock.

“Oh Celestia,” she breathes. “What happened? Who’s-”

Her words suddenly sound far away. What’s happening? You have to get the pony help, Twilight has to help her. But still…

“Twilight, she needs…”

The corners of your eyes are going dark, and your lips feel tingly. You can taste copper in your mouth and the full exertion of your run finally hits you. You hug the pony tightly to your body, afraid you’ll drop her. Everything is getting blurry now. You make out Twilight calling to you in what seems like a panic, and then everything abruptly shifts to the side and you no longer feel your feet under you.

Everything is black.

You’re unconscious before you hit the ground.

You wake up, you’re not sure how much later, to Spike putting a cold cloth over the back of your neck. The pain in your head has subsided, and you reach up to find some sort of bandage placed there. Everything seems at ease…except…your arms are empty now. The other pony! Where is she?

“Mhn,” you mutter, trying to sit up.

“Oh, you’re awake! That’s good,” Spike sighs. He looks like he’s been sick with worry.

You manage to right yourself, but Spike holds up his tiny purple claws, signaling you to stay put.

“Oh no way, Anon,” he says. “Twilight said to watch you till you woke up, then go get her. And that you weren’t supposed to move.”

You know better than to upset Twilight’s grand order of things. She’s a perfectionist when it comes to shit like this, and you know that doing something to mess with the balance usually makes her come a little unhinged. The two of you don’t always get along because of it, but you at least know her methods are effective.

“Fine, go get her will you?”

But Spike’s already running down stairs to find her.

You lower yourself back down and realize that you’re lying in Twilight’s bed. Everything smells clean here, sterile. Very unlike the loft at the Cakes’ where you’ve been staying for the last month or so. There, the rooms are all filled with the inviting scents of pastries and other sweets cooking. This is nice too though, you suppose. It’s very comfortable and very…utilitarian. You wonder if she’ll get upset if you peel off the covers though, they’re a bit warm for you.

You hear the clop of hooves as she comes up the stairs and decide against it. Twilight comes into view at the top of the stairway, and you nod to her as a simple greeting. She looks very concerned, and speaks softly to you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like someone took a baseball bat to my head,” you admit. “But…better than I did earlier, Thanks.”

“Glad to help, this magic has to be good for something.”

She manages a wry smile.

“Twilight,” you say sitting up a little. “The filly, how’s she-"

The smile leaves her face as quickly as it arrived and she looks away from you.

“You know,” she says solemnly. “You weren’t in this bed at first. I had you propped in an armchair down stairs while I worked on her.”

Twilight glances to a corner of the bedroom, her stare miles and miles away. You follow her gaze and spot a small, dark blanket with stars on it. It’s folded down neatly, like someone was tucking in a baby, around an unearthly still shape. With horror, you realize it’s the body of the pony you’d tried so hard to save.

The sight of it burns into your mind like a brand. You know in an instant, even as you turn quickly away and swallow a noise of pain, that it’s one you’ll never forget.

“When?” you manage to ask.

“About half an hour ago,” Twilight whispers. “I tried everything I could, but even magic can’t...there’s only so much…and it was too late to try to get her to a hospital…so…”

She falls silent.

Your mouth is dry, and you feel like someone has punched you in the gut. All that effort. All that running and desperation. For nothing. You held her in your arms in her final moments, and you didn’t even know it. Could you have said goodbye to her? Is there something, anything else you could have done?

“I...” the words come out choked. “I found her like that when I woke up. We were out by the hills and she was just there. I tried to do what I thought was best for her.”

“You did everything you could, Anon.”

“Was there…anything…I could have?”

“No, she’d lost so much blood.” Twilight places a hoof on your leg and looks into your face. “You couldn’t have saved her Anon. But you tried. Please, don’t beat yourself up about it, you really did try.”

You swallow hard and breathing becomes a little less painful.

“But what did this?” you ask. “What happened?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

You shake your head. With all the commotion you haven’t even tried to collect your thoughts about the previous night’s events.

“I’m not sure,” you say slowly.

The moment you say that, though, images begin to float back to you, voices. It’s becoming clearer now. You’re starting to remember things.

“I went up there with a few of the young fillies,” you say slowly. “They were graduating school, at least part of it. Too young to be going to college or whatever it is you have here I think. Not sure. They were talking about where they were going to go next though.” You can’t help but smile remembering it. “They wanted me to come up to the hills with them because they knew I could get them hard cider from the Pies.”

“Oh Anon!”

Twilight obviously does not approve. Too much to worry about right now to lie and keep from offending her though.

“Yeah I know. Be mad about it later. They wanted to have fun, and I’d been in their shoes a few times before when I was, well, around their age I guess. So I helped them out. We were drinking, we were singing. I got pretty smashed myself, to be honest.”

Twilight seems suddenly uncomfortable, and her eyes widen at you before she quickly turns away.

“Anon, you didn’t...they’re so young, you didn’t…”

She hesitates as if trying to find the right word, and her cheeks flush with embarrassment. You realize suddenly what she’s implying, and you can’t help but grimace at her.

“Oh, Jesus Twilight, no! You know I wouldn’t, not with a pony! That would be...well it just wouldn’t work for me, ok?”

You neglect to tell her that it is something you’ve considered now that you’re stuck here in Equestria, but never with a filly that young. Definitely not the time now to even bring that up.

“Anyway,” she says, seeming vastly relieved. “You were drinking and then?”

“We were singing together, the four of us. I tripped and fell on my face, we were all laughing. Then we just lay there looking up at the stars. Then I remember...”

The memory hits you suddenly, when you’re not ready for it. The darkness, the panic, the confusion. It floods back through your senses like you’re feeling it all over again. Twilight must notice a change in your face, because she suddenly looks worried.

“Anon?”

“It was...” you say breathlessly. You turn to her, staring into her large questioning eyes. “Twilight, I think someone or something came out of the woods. They had some sort of weapon, something metal. They started chasing us. The two ponies got away but that one stumbled. We were all just so drunk, I tried to go back and help her but then...”

You shake your head hard and the images fade.

“It must have gotten me, because I blacked out after that.”

“Oh Celestia, that’s terrible!” Twilight cries. “We have to tell the mayor at once! I’m sure the Cakes are worried about you, so why don’t you get back to them. We’ll figure out a way to deal with this, so make sure you lie down when you get back and just rest. Let your head heal.”

She’s already grabbed a pack from a nearby shelf and is filling it with books. You see a few of the titles as then fly, glowing sparkling purple, off the shelves. Magical Creatures, Ponyville History, something about ancient madness.

“It was Marigold, by the way.”

You hear yourself saying the words, but it sounds like someone else saying them with how hollow your tone is. Twilight pauses in her packing and looks up at you.

“What?”

“The pony,” you nod towards the dead body in the corner. “Her name was Marigold. She was here visiting a friend, an out of towner. Someone should try to find out who her parents are and get in touch with them.”

Twilight nods slowly.

“Of course. Right.”

You’re both silent for a moment, like you’re both unsure where to go from there. It feels like you should say something else, but you have no idea what. At last, you sigh heavily and move to the edge of the bed.

“I’ll get back to the Cakes.”

“Ok. I'll come check on you in a bit,” she says. “The mayor might have questions for you.”

You stand slowly and walk down stairs. Spike gives you an uncomfortable wave as you reach the doorway, one which you don’t have the heart to return. His face looks so empty of the silly carefree nature that’s always there.

“Feel better, ok?” he says.

You wonder if he’s ever dealt with death before. He’s so young, maybe this is the first time he’s ever seen someone die. You hate that you were here to witness that. You nod your farewell to him and shut the door behind you.

As you walk back, your mind is swirling with questions you’re not sure you want an answer to. Who did this? Why? What happened to the other fillies? You remember too well running from your attacker, just as you told Twilight.

What you didn’t tell her, though, what has you so twisted up inside, is that you remember the attacker’s silhouette as you looked up at it from the grass when you fell. It walked on two legs, just like you. For a moment, you can’t be sure, you think you may have even seen a face. A human face.

And it was smiling.

——

Chapter 2: A Time for Action

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 3: Cruelty and Efficiency

Your first stop is the home of one of the ponies you were out with the night before, and you can’t say you’re looking forward to it very much. Twilight makes an easy pace of it so you can keep up with her, but you can tell she’s impatient. Or maybe nervous. It’s so hard to tell those apart with her.

“Do you remember this girl’s name?” Twilight asks suddenly.

“Is she the blue one?”

“Yes, the one with an ocean related cutie mark.”

She's quizzing you, you realize. Trying to see how much you really did know these ponies. Is she still worried that you did something indecent with them? Or is she just judging you a little on how you think of these younger ponies.

“Oh, she was...um...Seabreeze?” You know it was something to do with the ocean.

“Close, Seaspray,” Twilight says. “She has a starfish cutie mark. You didn’t really know these girls very well, did you?”

It doesn’t sound like an accusation, but it sparks something in you, something resentful. It takes you a moment, and you’re already speaking, before you realize that feeling might be a pang of guilt.

“I know Wisteria pretty well, these were just her friends,” you say in your defense. “She comes into the Cakes’ a lot to buy strawberry shortcake cupcakes for her and her family. It’s how we started talking.”

“I see,” she says.

There’s more lingering behind her words, but you can’t be entirely sure what it is. You walk on in silence towards the edge of town, and soon the buildings dwindle to just one or two per block. A small house with a hay thatched roof appears in the distance, and Twilight makes a B-line for it. You bring yourself to a slow jog in order to stay at her side.

“Should I let you do the talking?” you ask, already pretty sure of the answer.

“That might be best, yes,” she says. “I’m not quite sure how her parents will react yet to you being there, so stay quiet if you can.”

“Got it.

Twilight knocks on the front door with one hoof and the two of you wait patiently. You hear the sound of someone approaching from inside, and a shaky female voice calls to you.

“Y-yes? Who is it?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” she says. Then, more hesitantly “and Anon.”

There is silence from inside.

“We’re here to ask a few questions, for the investigation,” Twilight says after a moment.

Another moment or two passes and you’re not sure the other pony is going to let you in. You can understand, what with the culprit still not being caught and all. Or maybe she just doesn’t like the sound of you being there. You’re pretty sure everyone knows you were involved in this somehow by now, gossip is pretty much a way of life in Ponyville. Then, at last, there is a click and the door creaks open.

A gray pony with dark creases under her eyes stands before you. She looks older, not Granny Smith old, but still quite affected by age. She regards Twilight numbly and then shoots you a disapproving glance. Yeah, you’d pretty much expected that.

“My daughter is sleeping,” she says gently, though you can feel the heat behind her words. “She’s been having nightmares ever since last night, can’t seem to stay down for more than an hour or two.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Twilight says. “But we really need to talk to her about what happened last night.”

You look away from the pony. Until now no one has really blamed you for what happened, except yourself. But it’s true that you did get the cider, you did take them up there because it was a beautiful view of Ponyville. If it hadn’t been for you…

You hear a shrieking whinny from inside and it jolts you out of your spiral into self-blame. The older pony spins and dashes inside without any further word to you. Twilight gives you a meaningful look and motions inside with her head. You follow her into the house, uncomfortable about not having been invited inside, but mindful that Twilight is in charge here and that the probably knows what she’s doing.

You follow her down a hallway and the two of you stand outside a partially closed doorway. Inside, you can hear the older pony talking, and you recognize the voice of Seaspray.

“Mom, I had the dream again it was...and I was running but I couldn’t...”

“Hush now dear, hush. You’re safe and sound at home. You’re fine.”

She sounds like she’s crying and shaking in there. There’s a wild terror to her voice, and you suddenly feel that questioning her right now is very wrong. It’s not respectful, not kind in any way. Just as you’re preparing to tell your companion this, Twilight clears her throat.

“Seaspray? It’s Twilight Sparkle and Anon here. Can we come in and speak with you?”

There’s a hasty sound of hoofbeats and the mother pony’s head appears through the partially open doorway. She looks anything but pleased.

“My daughter is exhausted and terrified,” she hisses. “How dare you-“

“Mom!” Seaspray calls from inside. “It’s ok. Let me talk to them. I-I want to help if I can.”

The mother pony closes her eyes and takes a slow breath, obviously trying to calm her nerves. She fixes Twilight with a firm look.

“You have five minutes, then I want you out.”

“Of course,” Twilight says.

She trots inside and you follow her, averting your gaze from the mother’s scornful look. The older pony makes a grumbling noise and steps out of the room, muttering something about cookies and milk as she goes.

“Hey there Seaspray,” Twilight says, smiling gently.

Seaspray is sitting up in bed, hugging her hind haunches towards her body. Her usually straight, blue green and purple mane is tangled and unkempt, and the fur around her eyes is damp from tears. She doesn’t return the smile.

“Hey Twilight. Hey Anon.”

She says hello to you in a quieter voice, and she doesn’t look at you.

“Uh…hi.”

You want to say something else, that you’re sorry about all this. But you’re not even sure where to begin with that, so you just stay silent other than that greeting.

“We just want to ask you a little bit about what you remember from last night,” Twilight says. “It’s very important.”

Her horn glows purple, and a notepad and pen float out of her saddle bags to hover in front of her, at the ready. Seaspray shrugs, shoulders trembling a little.

“We were up there partying because we’re all getting ready to go to secondary schools or academies next year. We got Anon to get us some cider.”

“What about when you were attacked?” Twilight says. She must be very aware of that five minute limitation, because she’s not giving any pause for Seaspray to collect herself. “Can you tell me about that? In as much detail as possible.”

Seaspray nods, and her face contorts like she’s forcing herself to do something very difficult. The sight of it makes your stomach lurch.

“We were looking up at the stars and making up names for constellations,” she says. “When Wisteria thought she heard something. We looked up and something was coming towards us. Anon called out to them to come join the party. I think he thought it was a pony.”

You don’t recall this part very well. You must have been a little more tipsy than you thought.

“And then the thing just started running at us. And it was tall and carrying a long metal stick and Marigold screamed. We got up and began running but I guess Marigold must have fell down or something. Anon stopped to help but we just kept running. And then...”

Her voice has started to tremble more violently. You can see tears beginning to form in the corners of her large violet eyes.

“And then we heard screaming. It was Marigold and she was just screaming for help over and over. And then she was screaming in pain. I think she called my name once. But we were running, and scared and we didn’t…we couldn’t…”

She starts to cry softly, trying to muffle her sobs with one hoof.

Twilight who has been writing things down on her note pad quickly stows the items back into her saddlebag and moves to the bed. She places a hoof on Seaspray’s leg, patting reassuringly, but firmly.

“We’re going to catch whoever did this, but you need to be brave and tell us more. Just tell me, hurry, what did the creature look like? Do you remember any defining features, did it make any sounds? We need you to remember, for everyones’ sakes.”

How can she ask so much of this girl? You want to say something to make her stop, but still you wait, holding out hope that she knows what she’s doing. Between sobs, Seaspray tries to speak.

“It had two...legs. And...and I think...”

At that moment, her mother bursts through the doorway.

“That’s five minutes,” she says.

Then she spots her sobbing daughter and her face grows flush with anger. You know in that instant that you should have tried to stop Twilight after all.

“I want you OUT!” She yells, rushing to encircle her daughter in a hug. “Look what you’ve done here, don’t ever come back! We’re not answering ANYmore questions, you understand me?”

Twilight gives a little bow of the head in lieu of a respectful parting word, then motions you towards the door. You follow her out, glancing briefly over your shoulder at the two ponies. Seaspray has her head buried against her mother’s neck, and she’s sobbing openly now, shoulders heaving as her breath comes irregularly and uncontrolled. The sight of it makes you feel more than a little sick this time.

Once outside, with the front door shut, Twilight lets out a slow sigh.

“Well, that was hardly helpful,” she admits. “But at least we have that the attacker is bipedal and does use some sort of metal weapon. It’s a start.”

You’re not entirely certain why you haven’t told her about what you saw that night, the face amidst shadows, the humanly familiar shape. Maybe you want to believe it wasn’t real. Maybe you are even more afraid that it was real and that this thing, this monster, might be another person. What would the ponies think of you then? Only two humans here and one of them is a killer? They might start to assume...

It’s probably irrational. You’ll tell her if you find any more information to support that this might be a person. Either way, you deem now is not the time to come clean. Not until you have some sort of evidence to back this up, or you might just be imagining it after all. That would be the better option, and you pray that's the case.

“Come on,” she says, already heading away from the house. “We need to talk to the other girl.”

“Wisteria.”

“Right.”

You jog up to walk alongside her. The more you think about what just occurred with Seaspray, the more uncomfortable you feel about it. The cold logic and methodical line of questioning is very much like Twilight, but the lack of compassion there…the insistence and seeming dismissal of the fact that the girl was hurting…hell, she even seemed a little manipulative about getting her answers. After a while, you can no longer stay quiet on the subject.

“Hey Twilight?”

“Yes?”

“You were…kind of harsh back there, demanding she keep talking. I mean, she was crying and everything. Couldn’t we have waited till later? Till she was less shaken up? You seemed almost-”

Twilight spins to face you. Her expression is bleak, eyes narrowed. You’ve never seen her look at anyone like that, and it silences you mid-sentence.

“Anon, I want to be nice about all this to everypony, but there’s a problem with that,” she says sternly, like she’s reprimanding you. “We need to keep everypony safe, that’s our first priority. So we need to work fast, just in case that thing comes back.”

You’re startled by how callous she’s being, especially thinking of her so shaken and crestfallen just earlier that day.

“But couldn’t you have been, you know, a little nicer?”

“Anon!” she barks. “You think I don’t feel terrible about how I made her cry? You think I wanted to scare her? I did it because I have to, for the better of Ponyville and everyone in it. I’m sorry if that offends you, but it’s the truth. We have to do what we have to do, even if it upsets some ponies. Even young ones.”

Without waiting for a response, she starts walking away, posture tense. You stand there watching her go for a moment, bewildered. She’s right, of course, but you hadn’t guessed that she’d get so thick skinned in this sort of situation so quickly. How fast these sorts of situations change people… With a shake of your head you follow her.

After the third knock on Wisteria’s front door, a neighbor pony pokes his head out a window to inform you that they’ve left town to visit relatives in Manhattan, where Marigold’s parents are. They wanted to tell the poor folks in person and deliver her remains, not to mention get away from Ponyville for a little while. You thank him for the information and leave without any additional clues to what might be happening. You quietly hope that Wisteria is doing ok, and that they’re able to break the news gently enough.

“Sorry the leads went cold, Twilight.”

“That’s fine,” Twilight says with a shrug. “I did a medical write-up of what I saw as far as her the injuries already. I’m glad her parents will have someone to comfort them when they hear the news. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child.”

Her voice sounds far away, and the emotion is back in place of that stubborn one-track motivation that was there before. Maybe it was remembering that someone, some filly, is dead that brought her back to an empathetic state of mind.

“Besides,” she continues. “I still have one witness to interview, but I think we’ll do that at the scene of the crime. If you’re up for it of course?”

Oh. Of Course. She’s talking about you. You cringe at the thought of going back up there right now, but you suppose it’s necessary. And you might actually get to search the scene for some clues that way, something to disprove your sneaking suspicion that the killer might be like you. Hopefully The mayor will be right, and it will just be some wild animal.

“Ok, I’ll take you there,” you say resignedly. “But nightfall is coming soon, so we can’t stay up there too long. Don’t want to worry the Pies again, I don’t think I could eat much more cake.”

“Oh don’t worry Anon,” Twilight says with an attempt at a reassuring smile. “I’m pretty quick with writing things down and collecting evidence, that sort of stuff. We’ll be back in Ponyville before you even know it, trust me.”

Author's Note

Ok, if you haven't realized it yet, these OCs might seem a little strange or weirdly named. So here's the thing:

Wisteria, Seaspray, and Magic Marigold are all previous gen ponies. What's more, they're ponies I had toys of when I was younger (Wisteria and Marigold were two of my favorites, and I still have my Wisteria somewhere.) So if you see an OC pony in here...keep in mind that they're actually just ponies from before FIM. Even her mom is modeled after a previous pony I had, though I didn't remember her name so I didn't use it.

In short, I'm weird, sentimental, and nostalgic. Deal with it.
The pace picks up a little more after this bit of my reminiscences, so fear not.

And as always, thanks for reading.

-Pencil

Chapter 4: Those Who Do Not Learn From History...

The hill looms up in front of you forebodingly as the two of you approach. The slowly setting sun lights up the grass and soil in an eerie yellow orange glow, and even the clouds seem to have dark bellies rather than fluffy, metallic edging. The hill itself rustles in with each light breeze, rippling with the grass, and looking just the same as always. As if it had never seen or known death before.

Your mouth started to go dry a while ago, but now you feel it in full. The graininess of your taste buds move like sandpaper across the roof of your mouth almost painfully every time you try to swallow. You’re sweating too, but if you wanted to, you could probably blame that on the warm summer weather. Either way, Twilight doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort. Her sights are set on the hill in front of you, again intent on unraveling the mystery of the previous evening.

“Is this the place?”

“Yes.”

Even your words sound dry and raspy. It’s not that you’re feeling fear so much as anticipation. This is where you’ll find out if what you saw was real. This is where you’ll know if this monster is just another animal or...

“Let’s get started then,” Twilight says. “You take that side, and I’ll take this one. We’ll meet back in the middle when we’re done, that way we can get this done quickly and effectively, and be home before it starts to get dark.”

You nod, especially to that bit about getting out of here before it gets too dark. As much as you don’t feel fear at this exact moment, you think being here at night might be a bit of a different story. The two of you spread out, your backs facing each other and your noses facing the ground. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you suspect you’ll know it when you see it and that Twilight will too.

As you near the place where you woke up that morning, you spot a strange splotchy patch of earth where even the grass looks black in the quickly dying light of day. It looks shiny almost, but also light and velvety, like it might be a rich burgundy-brown powder. With a sickening sensation, you realize that it’s dried blood, a mixture of your own and Marigold’s. You take a slow breath to steady yourself before calling out to Twilight.

“Hey, Twilight? You should probably come over here.”

She trots briskly to you, notepad glowing purple and hovering at the ready in front of her. She looks hopeful and eager, and you’re suddenly sorry you called her over. Maybe she didn’t need to see this after all. Before you can change your mind, she spots the stain and halts abruptly mid stride.

“I-is that what I think it is?” she stammers. She looks as if she may vomit.

You simply nod to her in response.

It’s strange, you notice, how fast she seems to switch between emotions right now. She so quickly jumps from being coldly efficient, even cruel, to fragile and ready to shatter. It leaves you uncertain if you should offer comfort in the way of a hug or kind word or just wait for the next inevitable shift. Twilight clears her throat and, sure enough the calculatingly objective pony is back in place of the quavering, sickened one. It’s unnerving and impressive, even mores now than it was back in town.

“Alright, that means that if there’s any evidence of the killer left it should be nearby here,” she says.

“Right.”

“Keep your eyes on the ground, there could be fur, footprints, something.”

Her eyes are already there as she speaks, scanning the earth intently. You follow suit and walk away from the stain, very glad to do so. Anything to get away from that place where Marigold began to die. You can almost smell her still there, in the breeze and grass. You can almost feel her weight in your arms, her head limp and quickly growing lifeless against your chest. You clutch your arms and rub them for a moment, blaming the now quickly cooling air for the shiver you just had. Not much more than a moment has passed before you hear Twilight call out.

“Anon I think...I think I’ve found something.”

You walk to where she’s standing, only ten feet or so maybe from the stain. She's making a small sketch on the notepad of something, and she’s pointing to with one hoof on the ground, as if to mark her place.

“Twilight, wha-"

You stop mid sentence and swallow the rest of the words. You blink slowly, hoping that it will just go away, but it’s still there when you open your eyes again.

“I’ve never seen an animal with feet like that before,” Twilight says. “It makes very strange tracks. I don’t think I’ve read anything about this either, or seen any pictures, or-”

“I have,” you say numbly.

“What do you mean?”

The footprint is dried into the soft earth of the hillside, defined perfectly in its lines and tread. The squares around the rim, the small clover-like indents where the heel and ball of the foot is. There’s absolutely no mistaking it for anything other than what it is. A boot print. Not quite military, but something meant for hard work, and fairly new by his deep the imprints are.

You know you can’t put it off any longer now, and you choose your next words carefully.

“Twilight,” you say haltingly. “This is a shoeprint. Like from the kind of shoes I wear. This was made by a human.”

Twilight stares up at you suddenly, her eyes widening. You both stare at each other, as if she’s just seeing you for the first time, and you feel yourself flush from some irrational embarrassment. Then the pony gasps and takes a few quick steps away from you.

“But…but there’s only one human here and that’s you! Oh...oh Anon did you...”

She’s gone pale and continues to back away with slow, unsteady strides.

“No!” you almost yell. “Hell no, look, this isn’t even my shoe!”

You raise your foot to show her the worn tread on your own shoes, nearly slick from use. Then, you hold your foot over the print to show how much bigger it is than your own. And yes, it’s considerably bigger, almost worryingly so. This person has to be massive, which pretty well matches with what little you remember. Twilight sighs and a little color seems to come back to her cheeks. She walks back towards you and you can see that she believes what you’re saying.

“Ok, I’m sorry," she says softly. "It’s just that I’ve never seen another human besides you.”

“I know, but this means that there’s at least one other here in Equestria.”

“Yes. One that kills Ponies.”

You know you could leave it at that, but at the same time, you’ve decided that it’s time to come clean, and that means laying out the whole story. Twilight seems to sense there’s more you want to say, and looks up at you expectantly while you fumble for words.

“When I blacked out up here and then came to, I remembered something but I thought it was my imagination,” you admit. “I didn’t wan to say anything because…I guess I hoped I was wrong. I can see now I wasn’t.”

Twilight stares hard into your eyes as you say this, inspecting your bleak expression, and the note pad again hovers next to her shoulder at the ready.

“Tell me everything this time, don’t leave it out right now even if you think you imagined it.”

You agree and begin to describe the face. Pale skin, a smile, very tall. It’s not much, but it’s all you have. As you talk, adding every possible detail that you can remember, the sun slips lower and lower along the hills and your shadows stretch longer and longer. By the time you finish with your description of the events, the sun has nearly set. Though you were watching this happen, judging how long you have, it’s still surprising how fast the sun seems to be sinking now.

“Twilight,” you say, rubbing your bare arms again. “It’s getting dark. We need to get back, I’m sure Rainbow Dash and her pegasi have stopped patrolling by now or are just finishing up. Don’t want the mayor to get on us about disobeying curfew on the first night. And…there’s always the Cakes…”

As her notepad lowers, Twilight seems to come out of some writing-induced trance. She shakes her head, purple and pink bangs bobbing lightly, then squints towards the horizon with a vaguely concerned murmur.

“Goodness, I hadn’t noticed it was getting so late. Sure, we can come back tomorrow to look for more, at least we have something to go on now.”

Though you have no desire to come back at all, you’re grateful she’s willing to go now. Maybe if you come back in the morning, you’ll feel vaguely less creeped out than you do right now. Both you and Twilight turn towards the path back to town, but neither of you take a step. You scarcely even breathe.

A tightness grows in your chest and instinctively you reach out to touch Twilight’s shoulder, just to know where she is in relation to you. Your fingers find her fur, and you can feel the muscles grow taut under her skin. The sounds of the natural world around you seem to mute, focusing all your power of sense straight ahead on what you’re seeing.

There’s a figures standing between you and the path.

The sun casts the entire form in shadow, obscuring any details, but you can see a shoulders and head, and can see that the shape towers above your modest, but hardly petite stature. You’re not sure, but you think you can see the shape’s shoulders rise and fall briefly in what might be a sigh. For what feels like an eternity, nothing moves. Then, all at once, sound seems to start up again as you hear Twilight’s voice breaking the eerie stillness.

“Who goes there?” she demands.

She takes a step in front of you, lowering her head a little to brandish her horn like a weapon. You’d always thought of yourself as the protector here, but now it’s Twilight who stands between you and this figure, and you’re too stunned by the act to draw her back or try to protect her instead.

The figure makes no sound, but takes a slow step towards the two of you.

“Stay there, identify yourself,” Twilight says louder.

But it doesn’t stay there. A second and third step follow, picking up speed. In the remaining light of day you see a glint of metal at that side of the dark shape. Your brain realizes all the implications of this in one breath, and when you breathe out, it’s in a yell.

“Twilight, RUN!”

She spins at your words, dropping any guise of being your protector, and begins to gallop away from the figure. You sprint to stay alongside her. For an insane moment, you wonder if she’s big enough to ride, that maybe you both can just bolt away from here in a flash of hooves and dust. Behind you, you can hear the footfalls of the figure quickening to keep pace with you. Faster than you.

You push your muscles to go, but you still feel weak from the previous evening’s blood loss, and you can feel your joints complain. You make your mind go back to that place it was when you carried the dying pony. Just a few more steps, just a few more. Almost there, keep going.

Twilight is still running faster than you, but you focus your eyes on the purple flash of motion as best you can as she pulls away. Things are getting fuzzy suddenly. You hear breathing, raspy and loud, and realize that it’s your own. You’re too weak for this.

Almost there, keep going.

You risk a glance over your shoulder. Silhouetted there, much farther back than you’d thought, is the figure. The metal in his hand glints, long and thin, maybe a pipe. He's tiring out, you think to yourself. You might get away. You can make it after all, you can escape. You turn back to look for Twilight and spot the rock a moment before your leg strikes it.

You don’t feel the pain, just the impact as it ripples up through your bones and muscles. The strange wrenching-back of your leg jars the rest of your body. The rhythm of your stride demands that your foot come down now, here. But it doesn’t. It can’t. Your body lurches forward as your foot finds only air.

You are falling.

Still, somehow your body urges you to run, to keep going. Time slows down as your sail through the air, forward and down. You flail, half stumbling, half crawling for one more step before you tumble to the ground in a flurry of limbs and dust. You taste dirt, grass. You feel the moisture of the earth and the stretch and tear of a rock taking some skin off of your exposed elbow.

In a heartbeat, just long enough for you to steady your body on the ground, things snap back to real time. You spin, trying to get up, but now a spike of pain shoots up through your leg at every movement. You cry out in shock and your vision becomes white stars and fuzz. Things swirl, but they stabilize quickly. Just in time for you to see the figure approaching at a quick pace. You can see now that he’s wearing a hooded sweatshirt and dark pants, maybe jeans. He’s also at least six feet tall, maybe much more than that, though it's hard to tell from the ground, and he’s very skinny. He’s also only a few hard strides away from you now, and closing that gap way too quickly.

No time to get up. No time to run. No time to even think of what to do. You brace yourself to fight, though you know you won’t have much of a chance from your current position, or in your dazed and pained state. Seeing you’re not moving, the figure slows its pace to a light jog, then stops as he heard you. You recognize a shadowed smile from under his hood.

“You again?” The voice is male, low, not gravely but a bit raspy, as if he has a sore throat. “Surprised you survived that blow to the head I gave you.”

You look for a comeback, but your mouth just moves, open and shut like a fish left to die on the sand.

“Ah well,” the figure shrugs. “What doesn’t kill you usually succeeds in the second attempt, right?”

He raises the piece of metal, and you can see now in the contrast from the red-orange sky that it’s a crowbar. It hangs there in the air, poised to come down against your head. You grit your teeth and prepare to duck out of the way, attempt to roll, move to trip him. Anything to give yourself a few more seconds to think and live.

You don’t get the chance.

A purple form bursts forward past you towards your attacker. With a cry, Twilight charges the figure, planting her head hard into his ribs. The figure lets out a shout of surprise and pain as he tumbles backwards with Twilight falling after.

You scramble painfully up just in time to see Twilight pull backwards away from the crumpled form, the tip of her horn dark with blood. It glows purple and the blood flicks off onto the grass like a spatter of dark ink. She turns again to the downed figure, horn alight and ready for some spell, some way to keep him down for good. But she turns too late.

He may be kneeling, but he’s still got his weight under him, and he takes advantage of it now. You watch, frozen in shock, as the figure swings his arm, grunting in pain and grasping at his ribs with his other hand. The metal flashes, and you see Twilight’s eyes widen as she spots it. It’s happening too fast for you to stop it, or for her to stop it, but you yell, reaching out for her.

“Twilight!”

The blow connects. Twilight flies back, the light going out of her horn instantly, to land limply on the ground with a thud. She tumbles over and over, legs lifelessly flailing like paper streamers with each rotation. She at last comes to a stop in the dirt, laying motionless on her side. Her eyes are closed and there’s a massive, open gash on the side of her face. Blood leaks from it freely, staining her fur a near black.

You stare at her, hand still reaching for where she was. You will her to get up, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t move at all. She could have gotten away, you hear yourself saying inside your head. She could have kept running. She came back for you, it’s your fault she’s laying there. She could have gotten away...

You turn back to her attacker, and now it’s your turn to react too slowly. The figure is standing, and the blow meant for you is already cocked back. The crowbar comes abruptly across his body towards your head with the speed of a freight train. You look up into his face, eyes dilating, and see that same smile as before with that same joy and malice.

The crowbar meets your head, and you hear the blow more than sense it. Your vision spins and you see the hillside fly past in a blur. The world goes quiet inside you. Things slope as you hit the ground, and you see Twilight far off, just a distorted purple shape crumpled on the grass.

You reach out for her once more, and you feel your hand shaking with how much energy it takes to do just that.

Your vision begins to sway and dim. You tell yourself to stay awake, but it’s no use.

"...Twi..."

She’s the last thing you see before you lose consciousness.

Author's Note

For a little reference on Twilight's quickly changing emotions, in the first season and a half, I always kind of thought Twilight was bipolar. She went from hopeful to despairing and self-depreciating so quickly, and neurotic to exhausted so often, that I wondered if maybe she really had that problem.

Not the special bipolar you see on TLC sensationalized programs meant to make you feel good about your own menial shortcomings, but the mild, vaguely fascinating kind my uncle had. I reflected that belief here, though I don't really hold that any more with the later seasons.

Also, for anyone who thought Anon was the killer...hahaha nope!

Thanks for continuing to read, folks.

-Pencil

Chapter 5: Two Sides of the Same Coin

“You’re right, it is beautiful up here this time of night.”

The moon gazes down at you, and you gaze back, basking your face in its cool light. The stars twinkle, and no clouds drift through the blanket of black enveloping the world. You’ve never been up here before at night like this, and you’re just so glad you’ve finally come, especially with such great company.

Marigold playfully shoves your shoulder with one hoof. You’re laughing, though you’re not sure what exactly about. She’s smiling too, her pink cheeks reddened by either alcohol or smugness, maybe both. Somewhere behind her you spot Wisteria and Seaspray. They’re swapping a large green bottle with a series of brightly colored balloons on the label back and forth, taking one swig per turn. As you watch, Wisteria leans quickly forward while Seaspray is drinking and plants an awkward kiss on her chin. She rears back, giggling, and topples over onto the grass, careful not to spill the bottle. Seaspray spits out her mouthful of cider in surprise and shrieks before diving forward onto Wisteria, letting loose a barrage of half-hearted punches.

You snicker and point out the awkward mare-fight to Marigold. She laughs too, covering her wrinkled nose to try to stifle the giggles.

“Wasn’t aware there were lesbian ponies here,” you chuckle.

“What’s a lesbian?”

“Never mind,” you say, shaking your head.

Things are so different here, for all you know ponies don’t have definitions for sexuality, or they’re like the Greeks and just don’t give a shit what you do as long as it’s behind closed doors. Marigold leans over and rests her head on your shoulder heavily. Normally you’d find that weird, but the cider has really gotten to you, and the warmth of her there is nice, homey somehow. Marigold looks up at your face and cracks a huge grin.

“I,” she announces. “am drunk.”

You grin back.

“I think we all are.”

“Yeah we are!” calls Wisteria from where Seaspray is fake-punching her on the ground.

This releases another wave of laughter from you and Marigold.

You can’t help but notice how wonderful she smells. A flowery perfume that you’d never known from any ponies back in your world wafts to your nostrils with each passing breeze. You haven’t been this close, this affectionate, with any ponies in Equestria. Although you know she’s far too young and that you’ve just met her today, you feel a swell of affection for her. To be honest, she’s the first pony to show you any real physical attention besides Pinkie Pie’s spontaneous hugs. It feels nice. Maybe brotherly, or maybe even something a little more than that. Of course, that could just be the alcohol talking.

You feel her sigh as she looks up into the sky with you.

“You know,” she says wistfully. “I’m glad you did this. This is exactly the kind of thing we needed now that school’s over.”

“Hey, glad to help.”

“I’m just feeling so peaceful,” she goes on. “Everything is so right in my life. I could die right now, at this moment, and I’d still be happy.”

A cold shock goes all the way from your tailbone to the base of your skull.

“What?”

“I mean, that’s what you want to hear, right?” she says.

What is she saying? This doesn’t feel right. She sits up straighter and turns to look at you. She has a strange smile poised on her lips and she suddenly seems more vivid to you, her lines more defined than the rest of the world around you.

“That’s what you need in order to feel like it’s ok that you let me die.”

This didn’t happen, this isn’t how it was that night. Something is wrong here.

“M-marigold?” you stammer. “What are you-”

“Oh, you remember my name now?” she says, standing up and taking a step towards you, so she’s almost astride your legs. “You didn’t for a while. Let me get killed, bring me up here to die, and you couldn’t even remember my name? What was the deal with that, Anon?”

No. No, no this didn’t happen.

Behind her you can hear the other two ponies still laughing away, but now their laughter sounds sinister somehow, detached from what’s happening here in front of you. Marigold is still approaching you and you stumble backwards on your hands and knees, crawling and unable to look away from her.

“I didn’t-“

“You didn’t what? Let me die? It’s not your fault? Poor thing, is that what they told you?”

She tilts her head awkwardly to one side, her expression and tone an almost mocking one. She laughs, and suddenly that smile of hers looks all too human.

“And now you’ve let Twilight die. After you promised you wouldn’t. And you think you deserve a little comfort? Closure?”

This isn’t real. This can’t be real, you have to make this stop. You didn’t mean to let Twilight get hurt, you didn’t mean for anyone to die.

“Well, I’m not going to give you your closure,” she says. “I’m not going to give you forgiveness. Not just yet.You’re going to have to be punished, have to earn my forgiveness. It’s not that I’m vengeful or anything, this is just the way it has to be. Ok, Anon?”

Your back hits a mound of earth, stopping you in your awkward crawl across the grass. You stare, wide eyed, at her as she stops only a step away from you. Her shadow where it stretches under the moonlight keeps moving though, catching up with her. Then, all at once, her shadow lurches forward past her, rushing at you and reaching out tendrils of black like dark vines to ensnare you. You try to cry out, but they catch you and squeeze your chest so tightly that you can’t make a sound.

Darkness begins to surround you, blacking out the sky, the hill, the cackling ponies a ways off. All that’s left, shining and leering like a Cheshire cat, is Marigold’s face and her smile. Her eyes have gone dark, lifeless, like they seemed when you saw her dead, but that damned smile keeps gleaming away in the darkness like an infernal nightlight.

The shadows draw tighter around your body, squeezing the air and life out of you. You try to move, but you can’t even squirm with how tight they are. You are suffocating, almost drowning in this darkness. It’s killing you. You’re going to die, just like they did.

“Don’t worry,” you hear Marigold say, even as everything is beginning to fade. “You’ll be able to start repaying your debts soon.”

The dark vines of shadow crawl up your chest, forcing their way down into your mouth and throat. You gag, unable to do anything to stop them as they curl into your lungs, filling them with a lack of air. You try to breathe in, but can’t, and you start to feel things getting distant and fuzzy. You hear marigold giggle.

“You can start, just as soon as you wake up.”

You awake with a start, gasping and thrashing for your first breath of air. The darkness is gone, you tell yourself, you’re not being squeezed anymore. You’re ok, you’re alive. Still, somewhere in the negative of your vision you see the phantom shape of her smile still lingering.

And you’re wrong about at one thing at least. You’re still being squeezed after all.

You look down, your vision still clearing, to find that there is a rope wound securely from just below your shoulders to right above your hips. It's almost painfully tight, and you can't expand your chest all the way when you try to breathe. You can’t even see your hands, and when you wiggle your fingers. they feel somewhat numb from how tight the ropes are. Your head stings and itches somewhere right above your cheek, like there might be flies buzzing against your skin. When you lick the inside of that cheek, you taste blood and feel a cut from where you’ve bitten yourself at some point. Dull pain throbs through the entire left side of your face as you become more and more conscious, but when you wince in pain it only makes the feeling worse.

You remember abruptly the hillside, Twilight flying lifelessly through the air, the man with the crowbar. Your heart sinks as you remember the way she was lying there, still and crumpled, as you blacked out. The realization sets in viciously and all too quickly. You swore you'd protect her. You lied to her. You’d caused another one to die, just by being here. Twilight is gone now because of you.

You tell your guilt to shut the fuck up, at least for a while. For now, just concentrate on figuring out where the hell you are, and getting the hell out of here.

A quick glance around doesn’t give you very much to go on. Your surroundings are fairly dark, but you can make out some shapes from the dull light of a single candle burning on a rock towards the center of the room. You’re in a cave, as best as you can tell. There are boxes nearby, wooden crates, and several long thin sticks laying up against the wall. The space you’re in is small, maybe only ten feet tall and twenty feet across, and by the feel of it, you’re bound to something made of stone. You look up and see a pillar at your back jutting from the ceiling all the way down to the floor, only a little wider than your body. As you stare up a drop of water falls down into your face. It clouds your vision red, seeping blood from your head wound into your eye. You blink hard, trying to get it out. Damn disconcerting feeling, blood in your eye, and it stings, even through the rest of the pain and dizziness you’re feeling.

You hear a sound at what you can only assume is the mouth of the cave. You can’t see the entrance, but a slight shaft of light a ways off tells you that it’s probably nearby, somewhere around a corner. The sound warbles, and you think that it could be a howl of wind, could be a shriek. Impossible to say for sure. But then you hear a male voice, a little closer, and there’s no mistaking that for wind.

“God fucking DAMN it that hurts!” you hear his voice echoing to you. “That little bitch…”

You make another quick attempt to free yourself, to no avail. You see a movement in the shadows and know he’s approaching, so you go still again, waiting for who knows what but conserving all the energy you have. You can hear his footsteps echoing and his breathing, labored and hoarse. You hope it’s from Twilight’s attack. Maybe she even managed to puncture a lung.

The figure, as best as you can make it out, stops walking.

“Oh, you did wake up,” he says happily. “That’s just fantastic. I thought I’d done you in this time, but I wanted to keep you around in case you’re particularly hard to kill.” He chuckles. “Seems you are. Good, because I think you'll prove quite useful to me.”

“Fuck you,” you spit towards him.

The comeback sounded better in your head, but now it just falls flat. The figure just laughs and approaches you.

“Oh come on now, consider yourself lucky. I could have just broken your skull in with Emily here.”

You hear the sound of him tossing something in his hand and assume it’s the crowbar.

“You named it?” you say with a forced laugh, that still tastes like your blood. “What are you, five?”

Your defiance is half-hearted at best, but it still feels pretty good. Better than the sneaking, sleepy exhaustion that’s threatening to take you over. You hear the other man go still, then emit a gruff disdainful grunt.

“Wouldn’t talk to me like that right now, and I can do whatever I damn well please. I can kill you. Could have killed you. Instead I decided to take you into my lovely home here. Don’t you like it?”

“It’s a fucking dump.”

“You’ll have to blame the bear that lived here before me,” he says with a sigh. “What the fuck does a bear even need with crates and candles and stuff like that? Maybe you can tell me, I’ve already got the idea that animals aren’t really normal here. He fed me for a while but he was a serious bitch to drag in here.”

A bear? Poor Fluttershy will be missing a friend. She might come up here looking for the bear or you if this is the home of a friend, you realize suddenly. At first you feel a swell of hope, that you might be found or saved. But then you realize that if she comes up here, he’ll just catch her too, probably kill her like the others. You pray your attacker can’t see as any remaining color drains from your cheeks. You can’t let anyone else die because of you. You have to figure a way out of this.

"Are you the only other human around here?" he asks absentmindedly.

"That I know of, not that it fucking matters."

The man comes a few steps closer but you can still only make out his basic form in the candle light. A single, ominous question lingers in the back of your throat, and after a moment you put your cracking, but steady voice to it.

“You going to kill me?”

He’s silent, possibly thinking it over.

“Yeah, probably. Eventually.”

Your chest tightens even more than the rope’s constraint inflicts.

“Then let me see you, don’t hide like a coward in the shadows,” you demand, surprised with the confidence in your voice. “Not like it matters, right?”

He’s silent again, but then steps forward towards the candle until you can make out more of his features.

He’s shorter than you initially thought, but still at least six feet tall. He’s been growing a beard for a few weeks now at least, it looks like, brown with light streaks of red running through. There’s dirt caked on some of the hair there too. His eyes are a deep chestnut, made darker in this cave so that you can’t make out any pupils in his irises. He’s white, gaunt, maybe starving, though with that quip about the bear, you doubt it. He still has his hood up, so you can’t see the hair on his head, but you can guess it’s brown by the color of his beard. The candle casts dark shadows over his face, which makes guessing his age difficult, but he doesn’t look like he’s quite out of his 20’s.

He spreads his arms wide, palms facing you. It’s a mocking invitation to view him, you realize. He turns slowly, giving you a look at him from all angles. As he comes back to facing you, he’s smiling that terrible smile again.

“See anything you like?”

You don’t say anything. Best not even to dignify that with a response, you’ve been doing too much of that over these past few minutes.

“Oh, not feeling talkative now, are you? That’s good.” He throws a rag down next to the candle. “I didn’t want to have to use this on you. Not fun trying to gag someone when they’re awake.”

“What, don’t like being bit?”

“Now that you mention it, no,” he says with a sigh.

He walks around the candle to get closer to you, then sits down on a rock facing your bound form. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans towards you, squinting.

“By the way, ponies bite pretty hard,” he says. “Did they do that to you when you first got here?”

“What?”

“Did they bite you,” he says slowly, sounding out each syllable like he’s talking to an idiot. “Did they panic, try to kill you?”

You hesitate before answering, then decide against it. Still, he sees your pause and grins wider.

“Nah, they’re nice here, right? Like a god damn little utopia, right? Bet they’re all crying their eyes out about that little pink one’s death, right?”

You look away, gritting your teeth hard to keep from saying anything that you’ll regret. He doesn’t need any more information on Ponyville, especially not from you if you can help it, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to hear a damn thing about Marigold.

“Oh the poor little things,” he says with a sigh, shaking his head. “No idea what hit them when I arrived. Fuck, I didn’t even know they were ponies at first, they don’t look like anything like the horses where we’re from. I’m assuming we’re both from the same basic place, yeah?”

“They’re not like anything from our world, no,” you say as an answer. “And you shouldn’t fucking be here.”

“Oh, and you should?” he says with a chuckle.

He stands and begins pacing back and forth in front of you. He waves the crowbar, which you can see far better now, in front of him like a golf club with each stride.

“See, I know how I got here, but I don’t know how you got here. And frankly, I don’t want to be here. So you’re going to help me get the fuck out of here, ok?”

“Why the fuck would I help you?”

Never mind that you want him out of Equestria, probably even more than he wants to be out of here. It's the principle of the thing, you don't help a murderer. Especially if he's planning on killing you once you've served your purpose.

“You mean, all this amazing hospitality isn’t enough?” he gestures to the cave walls.

He laughs at his own joke, and the sound of it rings in mild echoes off the walls.

“No.”

“Oh, well then.” He sits back down. “I guess I’ll just have to make some threats.”

He leans forward, very close to your face. You can smell sweat, BO, earth wafting off his skin. His smile is gone, but his eyes flicker with the light of the candle, pupils massive and dilated this close up. You feel every hair stand upright on the back of your neck, just from being so close to someone like this, before he even says a word.

“If you don’t tell me exactly how you got here and how to get back, I’m going to start killing every living thing I come across.”

You blink at him, horrified and confused.

“But that…why?”

“Because I fucking don’t care and I know that YOU don’t want me to, Jesus do you really need it all spelled out for you?” He half growls, half yells this. Then he seems to calm down some and he leans back away from you. “But that’s besides the point, it’s just what’s going to happen if you don’t help me. I’m going to kill everything in this fucking world and, from the looks of it, they’re not going to fight back much."

You crack a smile and you’re suddenly aware of how chapped your lips are, how thirsty you are. How long have you been unconscious? An hour? A day? More?

“Right, I’m sure that hole in your side speaks worlds about how they wont defend themselves.”

The other human bolts forward off the rock and grabs your shirt front. He jerks you forward hard against your rope bindings, knocking the wind out of you. You gasp, but your lungs aren’t ready for air yet and you just make a strange gargling noise. Through your pain, you register a flash of emotion in his widened eyes, and it holds you transfixed and breathless. His face is hard now, angry, cruel. It’s even more terrifying than when he was smiling.

“If you don’t help me, she’s the first one I’m starting with,” he hisses suddenly, giving you a firm shake. “If you don’t help me I’ll kill that purple pony bitch I’ve got outside. Right. Fucking. Now.”

Your eyes widen to match his at these words. Purple pony. You heard that right, didn’t you? He has a purple pony outside that isn’t dead yet. That means…

True hope swells in you for the first time since you woke up.

Twilight is still alive.

Author's Note

Reading over this again, I did something kinda funky here that I actually find very interesting. I had forgotten how sinister Marigold feels in Anon's dream sequence, and it really says strange things about how I viewed and intended her character, and I'm not entirely sure what I was doing with making her seem so villainous. I'll touch on this again in a few chapters, to point out exactly what I mean.

Also, what kind of edgy-ass self-absorbed dumbfuck names a crowbar? Oh. Right. One of my characters. Of course. What the actual shit was I smoking, left that in because I'm too damn amused at myself for it.

Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope to see you after the next chapter.

-Pencil

Chapter 6: My Hero

The man must have seen the change in your expression, because his smile is instantly back. He relaxes his arms a little, and you feel the tension in your collar go slack. You quietly curse your traitorous expressions for giving you away.

“Oh, now that struck a nerve, didn’t it?” he says in an almost purr.

You try to remove all emotion from your face but it’s far too late for that. You've blown even the small trace of leverage you might have had. Now, it'll be a battle to find a new foothold, if you can find one at all.

“You killed her already,” you say lamely. “I saw you.”

He holds up his index finger and moves it back and forth slowly in front of your nose, making a chiding tsk noise through his front teeth.

“Not so,” he says cheerfully. “You just saw me beat the shit out of her, like I did to you. I admit, I tried with that first swing. But she was still breathing and I figured if I was going to take you captive then I might as well make it a party, right? Didn’t want this to be a sausage fest, after all.”

He chuckles to himself, enjoying his own jokes way too much for your comfort. He settles down on the rock across from you, and you can tell he feels that he has total control of the situation again.

“And you’re going to kill her?”

“Did I stutter? Yes, I’m going to kill her first and make you watch unless you help me. If you help me I’ll let her go. It’s as simple as that. Is that clear now?”

You’re still a moment, considering his words and whether or not there's any truth in them, then you nod. Even if he’s lying, agreeing to this could buy you some time, and if he’s telling the truth, it might be your only chance to save Twilight.

“Good, so start talking.”

“…I got here a few months ago. It was a whole messy weird situation, hard to explain.”

“Oh, gee, that sure is helpful,” he says sarcastically before getting up from where he’s seated himself.

He strides quickly towards you and then gives you a swift and painful kick to the ribs. You wince and turn away from him, holding back a cry of pain and surprise. He reaches over and sharply raises your chin with the crowbar so that you’re looking at him again. You’re sure that he can see the pain in your face, but you try to show as little of it as possible. Got to stay focused, strong. Got to be ready if any sort of opportunity presents itself.

“Details,” he says “I need details on this.”

He walks backwards, still facing you, and sits down again. He gestures with open hands for you to speak whenever you’re able, and you gasp in air for a moment or two before you again feel able to speak. You start to continue, then shut your mouth abruptly and shake your head.

“No, how do I know Twilight’s alive?”

“You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

“Bullshit I’ll trust you. So far all you’ve done is beat the shit out of me and tell me you’re going to kill me. I need proof that she’s alive and safe before I’ll say a word.”

He stands up and walks back and forth in front of your bound body, glaring. He raises the crowbar to right below your chin, lifting your head so he can peer into your eyes.You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, even from this distance, and smell his foul odor. You doubt he’s had any chance to clean himself since his arrival, and it’s beginning to show at this point.

“That’s some pretty ballsy talk for someone in your position,” he says softly.

“Not really. There are no other humans here, so you need me and I know it. For all I know other than that, though, Twilight’s dead. If you want my help, you’ll need to meet a few of my demands or else I’ll just shut up and you’ll be stuck here.”

It's not entirely a bluff in concept, but the confidence you say it with sure as hell is.

“I could beat it out of you.”

He taps the crowbar against your neck as he speaks. It feels shockingly cold on your skin, like no matter how many times he touches you with it, it still refuses to heat to your body temperature. Still, you force yourself to smile.

“You could try.”

He regards you for a minute or two, studying your expression, maybe thinking over his options. Then he shrugs and pulls the crowbar away from your skin. He slides it through a side belt loop before stepping back and looking for something near the candle.

“Suit yourself,” he says with a sigh. “But I wouldn’t make too many more demands if I were you. I might just start assuming that you’re lying about being the only human around here and decide that you’re expendable. It’s not totally out of the question that you’re just as much a liar as I am, after all.”

He stands upright, something small gleaming in his palm. You tense as you realize it’s a short, possibly home made, knife. He spins and approaches you with it brandished out in front of him. You start to struggle again, trying to get a hand loose or a foot under you to defend yourself. Nothing comes free. You’re bracing yourself as best you can when you notice him regarding you with a rather bemused look.

“Wow, a little paranoid aren’t you?” he asks, shaking his head.

He gives a tsk and then kneels beside you.

“Try not to struggle too much or try to get away. I have Emily here and a knife very near your wrists. Not to mention I’m bigger than you. Bet I could kick your ass faster than you could land a punch.”

“So you’re a betting man then?” you ask, calming down just a little now that you know he isn’t going to stab you.

Any info you can get on this guy could end up being valuable, so a little fishing now won’t hurt. He lets out a short laugh and sets to work on your bindings.

“That’s not a bet you should take little man. The stakes are way too high.”

It’s not an answer, but maybe it means he’s a risk taker, or he likes sport or chance or games. You tell yourself to keep that in mind, that it might be useful later. He unties you up to your stomach, then ties fresh rope around your wrists and forearms, binding them tightly and painfully together in front of you. Once he’s sure you’re secure, he unties the rest of you and gives your short rope leash a jerking tug.

“Keep up, and don’t try to move around side to side or nothing back there,” he grumbles as you climb to your feet. “There are rocks, it’s dark, and if you fall I’ll just drag you the rest of the way out there.”

You don’t doubt he’s telling the truth on that one at least. As you follow him through the dimly lit cave, you decide he’s probably capable of not only dragging you by your hands, but also having a little fun with it while he does, and that’s enough to keep you close behind him. Still, you look around constantly for anything that might help you. A sharp rock, a tool, anything. All you see is shadow and what might be moss or mold. The cave smells damp and musty, maybe from the bear that once lived here.

Light begins to show in front of you around a stoney corner. It’s faint, and softly rosy like dawn or dusk. You wonder if you’ve been unconscious for only the night or for a full day. Either way, some of the ponies will have noticed you’ve gone missing by now. You have to find a way out of here before they come looking for you and risk their lives at this man’s hands.

As you reach the entrance, you crane your neck to see over or around your captor, trying to spot any sign of Twilight. At first, even the low lighting feels blinding to you, and the wound on your head feels like it’s pulsing with each breath you take. Then, as things become comfortable again, you spot her.

Twilight is bound by her front hooves to a large thick oak tree. Her back hooves are tied apart to different tree roots, and the knots on them look hastier and less solid than those on her front ones. You can see a red scraping rash on her front legs where you’re sure she’s strained against her bonds, and her body shows signs of dirt and sweat. Her face is caked with a mixture of mud and blood so that you can’t see how bad the crowbar wound is, but you can see the area under her eye growing puffy and dark. She’ll have a black eye there for a while if she survives all this. When she survives all this, you correct yourself. There's no other option, you’re going to keep her alive, you have to. A rope loops behind her head and through her mouth, holding in what looks like a sock as a makeshift gag. The way she’s breathing so hard, the wretched state of her coat, and her defeated posture all tell you that she’s totally exhausted. If she’s lost too much blood, you think, she might even be too weak to recover from her injuries. Especially if an infection sets in.

She turns her head over one shoulder to face the man with a weary snarl, but then she spots you, and her eyes widen at the sight. You’re not sure how bad you look, but her expression is horrified, if not a little relieved. You now see several fresh looking wounds on her face and neck, and realize with horror of your own that the man has been beating her the entire time you’ve been unconscious, and with how they’re not bleeding, it’s probably been at least a day of this.

Her eyes meet yours, and you see tears begin to well there.

Oh Twilight, I’m so sorry, you think. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.

“Aren’t reunions fun?” your captor says, stepping between your gazes.

“You fucking piece of shit.” You spit the words towards him. “How could you do this? Why?”

“Oh,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Thought you'd never ask. It was easy, honestly. You could say I was provoked, but if we’re being frank it’s because I don’t want to fucking be here. I’m pissed off that I have to be here with these girly ass misshapen little ponies, and until I saw you I thought that I might be here forever.”

He begins to pace back and forth, jerking your leash so that you’re forced to follow behind him like some sort of dog.

“So I got to thinking. No laws, right? No restrictions, no fighting back. Nothing. Basically, I can do whatever I want. And I thought to myself, now if I was a hitman or a serial killer or something hardass like that, this would be the perfect place to set up shop. I’m not one of those, but why not try my hand at it, right? But no humans to kill, no justice or vengeance to dish out, so I guess I got to settle for animals. Got to eat anyway. It was just a bonus when I found out they could talk. Well,” he pauses, giving Twilight a grin. “When I let them. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

Twilight glares at him, but there’s not much force there. She’s just too tired.

“Had to tie those back legs up quick though, you speak your mind pretty well with kicks, now don’t you?”

“You’re fucked up,” you growl at your captor, giving a sharp tug against your lead rope.

Feeling resistance, the man spins and catches you in the gut with a sudden punch. You crumple forwards onto the ground, not even enough air in your lungs to let out a sound of pain. You hear a muffled whinny from Twilight.

“I told you, that’s not a bet you want to make,” he says slowly. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

At last air comes back to your lungs. You breathe in gaspingly, tasting bits of dry leaves and dirt as you do. You flop heavily to one side, facing Twilight, as unwilling tears of pain leak from your eyes. The other human continues to pace, just at shorter back and forths now, to make sure he keeps your leash in hand.

“But even with all the fun, I want to get home. Too much to do there, too good a life to leave behind.”

He nudges your back with one boot, and you see a shadow fall over you. You glance up and see him, half silhouetted against the orange sky above you. The smile is back, an abrupt contrast against his dark shape.

“And you’re going to help me, aren’t you?”

You’re about to reply when you see Twilight. She’s silently nodding towards you, obviously trying to get your attention. The man is standing with his back to her, disregarding her completely, paying full focus to you so he doesn’t notice. But you do, and now she has you transfixed. What is she doing?

You watch as she closes her eyes and concentrates. With a brief spark and flash, a low glow flickers around her horn. You can see the strain it takes from her and realize that she must have waited, conserving this energy, until she knew where you were. Until she knew you were alive. All this time you were thinking about saving her, she was thinking about saving you. Of course! Her magic isn’t as strong as, say, Celestia’s, but rope should be no problem for her. She took those beatings because she was waiting. She could have gotten away by now. The realization and guilt are almost overwhelming in tandem.

The man must have only seen Unicorns briefly, because he’s made no attempt to restrain her horn or even cover it. He has no idea they do magic maybe, or how they work in general, and Twilight has taken advantage of that. Before, Twilight only stabbed him with her horn, so he might even think it’s just a sort of weapon. Still, the light of her magic is weak, and you’re not sure what she has in mind or how long she can go like this. You have to make some sort of distraction.

“...Yes,” you say suddenly, redirecting your gaze up at the man. “I said I’d help you.”

You sit up slowly, making sure you can still see what Twilight is doing behind him, in case she requires some further action from you.

“Good, we seem to be getting somewhere,” he says with a sigh. “Now, how did you get here?”

You think hard, trying to remember the details while still focusing on the scene at hand.

“I was running,” you say slowly. “Jogging. With my…a friend of mine.”

Why couldn’t you just call her your girlfriend? She isn’t here to refute it, no one here knows who she is or how you two interacted. Still, the word refuses to come out as you tell the story. You shake your head at your own foolishness and continue.

“We were up in the hills, coming back I think. We decided to go through a meadow, at her suggestion.”

Twilight’s horn has gained a little brightness, but not much. The ends of the ropes on her back hooves have also begun to glow faintly, and tremble a little.

“Get on with it, you were jogging with this girl, and?” He’s obviously impatient.

“We were going to race, we decided. She’s usually faster than me, but I thought maybe on the uneven ground of a field I might have a shot. I think we were making some sort of bet, winner buys lunch or something.”

The ropes strain not to move, but they begin to slide. The knots start to loosen, but you can see how difficult this is for her to do silently like this. Tears are streaming down her face and there’s a flush of red in her already scratched-up cheeks.

“But I was the one who tripped,” you go on. “And...”

This is where things got strange, you remember. There’s not much more than you recall clearly, but you just need to give Twilight a few more seconds.

“And what?” he demands. “Come on, and?”

The ropes are coming free, almost there.

“…and I fell.”

With a rush of unexpected force and a shrill cry through her gag, Twilight thrusts her hind hooves upwards, and the ropes are not enough to hold her. Before the man can fully turn, she catches him with a strong kick right below the ear. Dazed, but not fully unconscious, he tumbles sideways towards you with a grunt of pain. In the confusion, he also lets go of your rope.

He lets go. He lets go of your rope.

It takes your brain a few moments to process this, and you stand up shakily, dumbly staring down at the loose rope on the ground. You’re…free? A muted cry from Twilight snaps you back, and suddenly you have things to do. You half leap, half crawl to Twilight and begin to tear feebly at the front knot on her hooves. It’s better than the ones on her back feet, and your hands are shaking from the adrenalin of all this, but you locate the ends, the place where they cross, and begin to push the rope to give slack as quickly as you’re able.

You hear a groan from behind you as you force the rope back against itself once, then twice. How many times did he tie this? After what seems like an eternity but what was probably only a few seconds, the rope comes loose.Twilight springs unsteadily away from the tree and pulls the rope and sock out of her mouth. She teeters on her hooves like she hasn't used them in some time, but she stays upright.

“RUN!” she screams.

You hear the scramble of leaves behind you as your captor begins to stand up.

“What the fuck. What…”

He sounds drunk almost with how the words slur. You hope very sincerely that Twilight broke his jaw with that kick. The idea would make you smile if the situation weren’t so dire. You stumble up to your feet and make a move to run. With your hands still bound in front of you, running feels awkward, but it’s not impossible. You never realized how much you use you arms when you run,and it's painfully apparent to you now as you swing your arms left and right to help give you momentum. Twilight too dashes forward, and you’re shocked at how easy it is to keep up with her. After the sudden show of strength just moments ago, she must be so weak now. How much strength does she have left?

You feel a tug at your wrists and the rope snaps taught across your chest. You spin, clotheslined by your leash, and fall backwards onto the ground. The man is near you with the rope in his hand, still unsteady on his own feet, but now fumbling for the crowbar. He grabs for it in his belt, missing with every awkward swipe. Twilight too spins to face you and before he can get steady she kicks feebly out with one leg towards his knee. The blow finds its mark, though not with much strength, and he crumples sideways to the ground again. If his balance hadn’t been so off, that wouldn’t have done much good. You thank god, or Celestia maybe, for small favors.

You tug the rope into your hands and you’re once again free. You don’t need to think this time, you just start to run. You hear the man groaning behind you, but he’s still scrabbling around like he’s trying to get to his feet, so the more distance you can put between you, the better. Twilight awkwardly stumbles alongside you towards the dense treeline, but she looks as if she may faint at any moment.

Without thinking about your own waning strength, you reach down and hoist her over your still bound arms to rest against your chest. She lets you do it without protest, nearly limp and feverishly hot in your grasp. Her hooves bounce against your knees as they come up and down and her head hangs limply forward against her chest. Her muscles are relaxing, maybe she's becoming unconscious, but she's still alive. She’s free, with you, and she’s still alive.

Even in your mad flight into the woods, you feel a swell of gratitude in your chest for this little pony. She’s saved you so many times before now, without you ever asking for her to do it, even been the reason you’re free now. Without her you never wouldn’t…wouldn’t have made it. She's your guardian angel when you need it most, but now, as she rests feebly breathing against your heaving chest, she needs you most. You can finally begin to repay your debt.

“My turn,” you whisper as much to yourself as to her as you force your legs onwards through the brush.

Behind you, the sounds of your thrashing captor are fading now. You’re not even sure if he managed to actually get up after that blow last. Still you keep running, putting as much space between you and that terrible, sickening place as you possibly can. You have no idea where you're going or where you are, but you know for damn sure that you don't want to be here right now. You’re not fully escaped yet. You have to run for as far as you possibly can. Your muscles scream at you, your arms ache, your head pounds.

Just one more step, one more. Keep going.

“Keep going,” Twilight murmurs in your arms as if reading your thoughts.

You hold her tight to your body and focus your mind on the next tree, the next patch of earth, anything to keep you running. You'll run till your heart explodes, till your muscles tear. You'll run until you collapse unconscious so long as it keeps Twilight alive.

You won't let another pony die in your arms.

Not now, not ever.

Author's Note

Someone already asked about both these topics, so I'm going to cover them here.

Firstly, Twilight wasn't super magically powerful in the first season, as you may remember. This story does reflect that. I want to stress that, nowadays in the show? Twi would have snapped this fucker's neck so quick it would have made your head spin. (HAH had to make a joke at some point.) But here, I wanted her to be at a disadvantage, still learning, where magic is an effort that results in exhaustion. Especially if she's pulling her punches, waiting for the right opportunity.

The other question someone asked when they first read this is that I mentioned covering Twilight's horn, and if I subscribed to the idea that covering a horn would remove some, if not all of its power. I do think that's an interesting concept, and yes that is what I was getting at. But looking at some of the evidence? It's likely that's not show-truth either. Would just be interesting if covering a unicorn's horn left them powerless, in my humble opinion.

Next part coming out is the longest, so you know.

So thanks so much for reading, and I'll see you next time.

-Pencil

Chapter 7: Taking Shelter

The sun is already getting high in the sky when at last your muscles start to fail you. Your lungs are already on fire and parts of your hands and feet have gone numb, but you’ve forced yourself on as long as possible. The man is far behind you, and though you’re completely lost, you know you’ve gotten away. You’re safe from him, maybe, for now. But now the tingliness has spread up your limbs, and your knee buckles under Twilight’s and your own combined weight. With a feeble grunt, you tumble forward onto the ground.

Leaves crunch as Twilight flops out of your grasp in front of you. It doesn’t sound like a hard fall, but she doesn’t move right away either. You try to reach for her, but your arms don’t respond to your command and barely strain at your sides. You taste blood in your mouth and things feel fuzzy all over your body. Too many head injuries in the past few days, too much blood lost, not enough food or water. You've pushed yourself too far this time and your body is shutting down now, you can feel it all around you. Maybe you're even dying.

Things are getting white around the edges of your vision, like before when you were carrying Marigold to Twilight’s front door.

No, no not now! You can't faint again. You have to check on Twilight!

“Twilight, are you ok?” you mumble.

She doesn’t respond, and you’re too weak to reach out for her. You hope she’s ok. She has to be ok. You’re just so tired, and you’ve tried so hard to get this far. Maybe closing your eyes for a moment would help get you grounded, centered. Just for a moment, you tell yourself as you lower your head sideways onto the leafy ground. Then you'll take care of Twilight and keep moving back towards Ponyville.

Just for a moment.

Just for a...

Your eyes are closed, but you can feel somebody gently pushing the hair out of your eyes and off your forehead. Their touch is cool, calming, and tender against your sweating and feverish brow. Beneath you, you feel legs supporting your head and neck. You realize that someone has your head in their lap and is stroking your forehead in an affectionate, caring way. It feels more heavenly than anything has in a while, and for an instant you simply let it happen, unquestioning. You want to open your eyes, see who this kind soul is, but your eyelids resist.

Who are you? Why are you being so nice to me?

You think the questions, but you can’t make your mouth move to speak.

You reach up with a shaking hand and touch a cool, smooth cheek. You feel it move and imagine that this being must be smiling down at you. Your eyes flicker open, just a little, and you see a silhouetted figure bending over you with long hair rippling in some unfelt wind. She’s pressing your hand to her cheek and is indeed smiling. You try to focus, to make out who it is.

That long brown hair, pale skin. Occasional freckles. Those dazzling green eyes.

“Miranda?”

The word is so unfamiliar to your lips. You haven’t spoken her name to anyone in so long. In fact, you have even forgotten the lines of her face, you realize. You’ve forgotten the shine of her lips, the flush of her cheeks, the hollow of her throat. You’ve forgotten how beautiful she is. How much you wanted her to be with you.

“I miss you,” she says. “I wish you were still here with me, that I could still laugh with you and touch you. I just miss you so much.”

You’ve always wanted her to touch you like this, look at you with this kind of affection. But she’d never think of you this way. She was your friend. You kissed once, one stupid drunken night, but it was never anything serious like you wanted it to be. She wouldn’t hold you like this.

This can’t be real. No, You want this, all of this, but it’s not real. You know that, and a short pang of pain erupts in your chest, just like it did every time she smiled at you and you smiled back as just a dear friend.

You shut your eyes tightly and tell yourself this isn’t real, but the hand presses more firmly against yours. Is it fur you feel under your fingers now? Is it not a hand but a hoof pulling back your hair? You open your lids again.

The green eyes are the same, but it’s a pony now. A playful swirl of orange and yellow mane bobs above her brow, and pink fur glistens around the edges of her shape like the silver lining on a cloud. She looks so young, so frozen in time there. And she’s smiling so warmly and sadly at you.

Marigold.

The last time you saw her smile like that was on the hillside that night. There was this warmth then too, but more silly and drunken. Now there’s so much affection, not like that terrible dream before. Is this a dream too?

“You know,” she says, and her voice is distant and lilting like strains of music. “I liked you. My friends told me that I had to talk to you or they’d tell you about it.”

Liked you? Wait, as int he proverbial grade school Like-like? Marigold had a crush on you? Ponies are actually attracted to you? Too many thoughts are going through your head right now for you to think straight. You just blink up at her, searching for something, anything to say, should your frozen lips allow it. Marigold giggles to herself and releases your hand. It falls limply back to your chest without the aid of her holding it up.

“I was going to tell you that night. I know you’re too old for me and that I didn’t have a chance with you or anything. But I was going home soon. I wanted to give it a shot anyway, be more confident for a change. No regrets.”

Marigold sighs gently and leans forward towards you.

“You didn’t save me,” she says sadly. “I know, and maybe you couldn’t have. But in the end, it’s not your fault. And you saved Twilight now. I just wish I’d...I just wish...”

Say something, you idiot. Tell her you’re sorry, that you thought she was cute for a young pony, that you wish things had been different. Tell her that you did try to save her, and would do anything to save her even at this moment. But she’s dead now. This can’t be real either.

“Close your eyes,” she says suddenly. “Please. Just close your eyes. For me.”

You shut your already heavy eyelids and feel things get fuzzy all over your body again. Are you dreaming? Passing out? Are you sick and hallucinating or just so tired that your mind is playing tricks on you? Then you feel a gust of warmth against your face. Then a tickle of fur against your nose.

Then her lips meet yours.

Your body tenses as the unexpected kiss ripples through your being. She’s…she’s kissing you?Yes, Marigold is kissing you! The lips are warm, wet, smooth, gentle. Nothing like how you though it would be to kiss a pony. It tastes sweet and aromatic, almost like kissing flower petals. Before you’re ready or can even begin to really enjoy it, you feel her lips break away from. The cold air on your mouth feels unwelcome by comparison, and the scent of flowers instantly starts to dwindle. Open your eyes, you order yourself. Reach out and touch her, keep her here, say something. Don’t let this feeling fade away.

Don't go.

“Don’t go.”

Your eyelids open just a crack and you see a purple form above you, a shimmering light glowing against your face.

“Twilight?”

You see the face change from an expression of concern into a relieved smile, and again feel a sigh in the body that’s cradling your head.

“You’re alive,” she says breathlessly. “Oh thank Celestia, you’re alive!”

“Yeah...wait, are you?”

It sounds stupid, but you’ve just seen Miranda who’s far far away, and Marigold who’s dead. Seeing Twilight could mean that she’s dead too now, and that you’re dead too by that logic. Also, she looks much better than when you saw he last. There’s no sign anywhere on her face of her wounds, and she seems like she’s not in any pain. Maybe this isn’t real either, and you’re still dreaming. But she just laughs and shakes her head, only slightly messy lilac mane swaying.

“Of course I am,” she says. “Thanks to you.”

This is actually happening, you realize. She’s ok, she’s right here and she’s fine! You try to sit up, but you suddenly feel faint and slump back down against her chest. She catches you there with her hooves and hangs on, her horn still shedding a faint purple light down onto you. It's warm, like you have your face near a lit candle.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “It was a long run.”

“There’s no need to apologize Anon…you saved my life.”

“Only after you saved mine. A whole bunch of times. I was kinda due to return the favor.”

You make out through still hazy vision that she’s blushing.

“Well, um, you’re welcome then,” she says awkwardly. “Hey, are you starting to feel any better? I made a paste out of some edible plants I found to give you some strength back and I've been working on your wounds.”

Strangely enough, you find that you are feeling better. The haze is lifting from your eyes and mind, and the ache in your muscles is quickly subsiding. Twilight comes fully into focus now, and now you get a full look at how she’s doing. Miraculously, there’s not a scratch on her. Her coat is impeccably groomed, even if her mane looks a little unruly, and the heaviness of the previous days does not show in her face. Right now, she just looks relieved and happy.

You prop yourself up on one arm, going very slowly this time to see how much you can take. Twilight gingerly helps lift your torso up into a sitting position, and holds a hoof behind your back in case you get dizzy and fall back again. By the second, your aches and pains are falling away. You even feel less anemic than you have in days. You wonder what sorts of plants can do this much good for a person, and if they'd even be legal in your world.

You shrug your shoulder, shake your head back and forth, clench and unclench your fists. Everything seems to work and feel perfectly fine! You look to Twilight with a questioning gaze.

“How?”

Twilight just rolls her eyes.

“Oh Anon, don’t tell me all humans underestimate unicorn magic.”

“You did this yourself?”

She shrugs.

“Yes, well, I just waited until I had enough energy and then used magic and some local herbs Zecora taught me about to heal my wounds. Once those felt better, I felt stronger and could do even more to touch up my wounds and yours too. Finding water was the hard part, but there’s a stream nearby, so we’re lucky on that one. We’ve been here for a day or so, since yesterday evening.”

“A day?”

You now notice that the leaves have been piled in around you, like a bed. Sticks have been set neatly in a frame nearby, and you guess that’s where Twilight has been resting. It’s all very organized, for being int he middle of nowhere, but you would have expected nothing less from your companion.

“Yes, so you’ve at least had a little time to heal,” she says a little proudly. Than, more cautiously, “How does it all feel for you?”

“It’s amazing…I thought you were down for the count though.”

“I almost was,” she admits wryly. “I could barely heal the scratches on my forelegs at first. You really had me worried there too, you were thrashing back and forth, mumbling to yourself. I though your head wound might have become infected, and you definitely had a fever. I wasn’t sure my magic would be enough, or that you’d ever wake up.”

“Nah, just ran myself silly I guess.”

“Either way, you're ok now.”

There’s something more, something uncomfortable behind that last sentiment. Rather than let it go, you decide to push the topic.

“Twilight, is something wrong?”

She sits back away from you awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing, what’s up?”

She glances from your feet then back to her own, rapidly. Then she chews the corner of her bottom lip a moment and shifts her weight from one side of her body to the other.

“A-anon?”

“Yeah Twilight?”

“Who’s Miranda?”

That sets you back a mental step or two. You blink, dumbfounded, at her as you try to process this unexpected twist in the conversation.

“How...where did you hear that name?”

“You said it,” she says. “In your sleep. You sounded really hopeful when you said it, like it was something really important to you.”

“She is,” you blurt out. “I mean, yes, she was.”

“Oh,” Twilight says, still averting her eyes. “That’s...helpful.”

There’s still that awkward and uncomfortable feeling behind her words. Perhaps it will help if you give a bit more detail than that, even though you're not totally sure why it bothers her. You sigh heavily.

“She was a friend of mine back in my world,” you explain. “A really close friend, maybe back all the way into childhood I guess. She was the last human person I saw, I think, until this new asshole showed up out of nowhere.”

“And you miss her?”

“Yeah, I really do,” you say. “I’d always hoped that we could have been together someday as more than friends.”

“So, you’re saying she was your very special somepony?” Twilight asks hesitantly.

She’s obviously not very good with these emotional sorts of conversation, as evidenced not only in her blushing cheeks but in her inability to meet your eyes. Her conversational skills are more suited to mathematics, science, numbers, concretes. In this line of talking, you can tell that she’s floundering very much like a fish out of water.

“Well, not quite,” you explain. “I felt that way about her but she really didn’t feel that way about me. I could have pretty much been her brother for all it mattered, and that was ok with me. It hurt sometimes, but I was glad to, you know, have her in my life at all.”

“Oh Anon, I’m so sorry,” Twilight says, and you can tell she genuinely means it.

She reaches out a hoof and places it consolingly on one of your knees. You look at it, then up at her. She looks almost sad, you decide, like she’s feeling some of that loss as well.

“Do you have someone special back home?” you ask, and immediately wish you hadn’t.

Twilight flushes deeply and she fiddles with the tip of her tail nervously. She also doesn't look any happier, and you think for a moment that maybe you’re the one who’s bad with these sorts of conversations.

“Um, once. A long time ago before I got to Ponyville. Sort of. Kind of like what you said. Look, if you’re feeling ok, maybe we should begin looking for a place to hide so we can recover fully before we head for home. You know, just in case that man comes after us again.”

“Yes. Good. We should do that.”

You jump at the chance to break the tension that you’ve so stupidly created. Twilight stands and you too try to find your balance. You sway on your feet, but you’re surprisingly steady. Even so, Twilight slips a friendly shoulder below your palm in case you need something to hold onto. You again notice how pristine her coat looks compared to a day earlier. There’s not even a scar or remnant of a scratch on her!

“That’s some good magic,” you say as she begins to walk out of the small clearing with you. “I can’t even tell you’d been hurt.”

Twilight smiles bashfully and shrugs.

“It’s a spell I’d been working on with Spike around the time you brought Marigold to me,” she says. “I’ve only used it a few times, but this sort of healing magic seems to come pretty easily to me.”

“That’s handy.”

“Yes, but I was very nervous about how it would turn out on a human.”

You wonder if your injuries are as invisible as hers. You reach up to touch your face and find pock marks in your skin, just little indents. Twilight looks up at you apologetically, and you can see guilt in her expression.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. Some people think scars add character,” you assure her. “Just how bad off was I anyway?”

Twilight looks away from you to focus on the path ahead of you and considers the question.

“You had gashes all over, a lot of dried blood. I counted seven contusions,” she says slowly and methodically, listing your symptoms one by one. “There was a laceration on your cheek that was still bleeding when I started healing it, and I found two broken ribs on your left side. You were also very warm to the touch, a high fever, though I couldn’t tell if it was from infection, exhaustion, or dehydration.”

You chuckle to yourself. It feels strange, and you wonder how long it’s been since you honestly laughed out of amusement. Twilight glances up at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just didn’t take you for the doctor type,” you say. “But you certainly seem to have a knack for it.”

“It’s simple categorization of symptoms and then process of elimination to find a cause and then a cure. Especially out in the woods like this.”

“I was paying you a compliment,” you say, chuckling a little more.

“I...oh. Then thank you,” she says, smiling sheepishly.

Ahead, you spot a large cropping of rocks jutting upwards through the trees. It’s not big enough to be a mountain or anything, but it’s significant enough to climb to try to get a look around. You nudge Twilight’s shoulder and gesture towards it.

“Think that might be an ok vantage point?” you ask.

She squints at the stone and then nods.

“Yes, I think that will do nicely.”

The two of you direct your steps towards the great gray crag of rock. It grows taller and taller as you approach, more forbidding and sharp in its spires. The trees fall away as you get nearer, giving way to blank brown earth and patches of exposed stone. Twilight stops and points towards a particularly spiny bit of the rock.

“I think I see an opening there. It could be a cave or at least offer some sort of shelter.”

“It could also have some pissed off animals sleeping there,” you say.

You don’t want to be the pessimist, but you need to prepare for the worst. There aren’t many resources out here, at least that you know how to use, and the last thing you need is a snakebite or bear mauling. Twilight swells a little with pride though and gives you a confident smile.

“Oh, no need to worry Anon. Fluttershy gave me a few tips on how to interact with animals so that they don’t attack or get scared right away.”

“Really?” you ask incredulously.

“Yes. Well, I never had too much luck with skunks, but what are the odds of it being skunks, right?”

You don’t tell her that it’s more likely skunks than bears or timberwolves, or something else less pungent. You just smile and gesture for her to lead the way. Better she get sprayed while trying out these techniques than you, she’d probably know how to magic the smell away anyhow.

The opening in the rock is hardly a cave, you notice as you approach. One slab of stone has broken off where it juts out of the ground, and has fallen sideways to rest against a tall, sheer rockface in a kind of lean-two. Luckily, because it’s small, you can see that it is free of any sign of wildlife. Twilight claps her front hooves together happily.

“See? I didn’t even have to try my new animal-friendly skillset.”

“Yeah, that’s a relief.”

Twilight cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Er, that isn’t to say you wouldn’t have been great at it,” you say quickly.

The last thing you need to do after Twilight has been so good to you is insult her abilities. But you can see in her still happy expression you haven’t offended her.

“Well, lets see if it’s comfy in there, shall we?” she says.

She easily walks under the low slope of the rock, but you have to duck down to get inside. Once in, you find you can’t stand straight up so you instead crouch down on the ground next to Twilight. It’s cramped, but big enough for you to stretch out to sleep if need be, and it does hide you somewhat. Twilight is examining the chamber with a satisfied grin.

“Yes, this will do fine,” she announces.

“Not exactly the Ritz.”

“The what?”

“Nevermind,” you say.

Sometimes you forget that ponies don’t know places and things from your world. Is there an equivalent perhaps? The Gilded Bridle or something like that? Not important now, you put it out of your mind.

“I should probably get climbing and see if I can get a baring on where we are.”

You stand, still ducking in the small space, and make a move for the mouth of your small shelter.

“Hey Anon?”

“Hm?”

You turn around and catch your cheek on a sharp bit of rock spiking out from the wall. You wince in pain and hold up a hand to your face. When you draw it away there’s a small streak of blood there. Twilight sighs exasperatedly.

“Well, I was going to say that you’re still recovering from blood loss, days of being dizzy and out of it, and that you should rest. I might even be strong enough to teleport myself up there so that you don't have to climb, if we’re lucky and I can remember the spell right. Now, though, I’m going to have to heal that cheek of yours, so sit down and rest yourself for a moment.”

“Is that an order nurse Twilight?” you say jokingly.

“Hey, if I need to order you around like I do to Spike, then I will,” she says “So sit, mister.”

“Yes ma’am!”

You sit down in front of her and she raises a hoof to your cheek. She examines the wound carefully, touching the edges of it with the tip of her hoof and smoothing the skin above and below it. You try not to react to the needlepricks of pain that flicker though your face when she does. Her horn begins to glow softly with violet light, and your cheek feels warm.

“Why am I always having to patch you up,” she mutters.

“Just lucky?”

“You’re the lucky one that I’m here.”

“I really am,” you say earnestly. “I wouldn’t be alive without you.”

She stops, surprised at your words, and again blushes. Her horn stops glowing, apparently finished with her healing work.

“Well,” she fumbles with her words. “I wouldn’t be here without you either so...I guess we’re even?”

“I don’t know,” you say, trying to turn all this into a big joke. It’s getting pretty serious a little too fast for your liking. “I think maybe you still owe me some, I mean I had to carry you, do you know how much you weigh? You’re pony, I should have made you carry me!”

Twilight doesn’t laugh. She’s staring into your eyes with a funny sort of expression, one you can’t quite name. You can feel her hoof tremble against your cheek and you reach up with one hand to steady it. Her face is still flushed and she looks as though she might cry. Is she ok? Did you go too far? Maybe she’s guilty, or sad, or all this stress is finally getting to her. You’re so inconsiderate, you should have picked your words more carefully. You run a thumb gently across the back of her hoof and lower your head to look her in the eyes, but she again turns them away.

“Twilight?”

All at once her face is moving towards yours. You sit, frozen by shock, as she closes her eyes and leans in. You feel her breath on your mouth, the warmth from her face. And then the curve of her lips find your unexpecting mouth. You sit, reeling, as you try to take stock of what’s happening. Even as your mind feels useless, your body begins to react. Your eyelids shut and your grip on her hoof tightens. Your other hand slips up to the back of her neck, drawing the kiss in closer, more intimately. You hear her and feel her moan against your lips at your touch, and you part them slightly, giving access to...

Wait. Wait what are you doing?

Your brain finally catches up with your body and you draw back sharply, breaking the kiss. You stare bewildered at a now deeply blushing Twilight. She tilts her head sideways questioningly, eyes flickering from yours to down at her hooves.

“Anon?”

“Twilight,” you say, not really aware of the words that are coming out of your mouth. “You don’t have to do that. I was kidding, you don’t owe me anything.”

“But I do,” she says softly, leaning towards you again.

You put up a hand to gently restrain her. Your body is yelling at you to let go, go back to that wonderfully sweet feeling it was just reveling in moments ago. But no, this isn’t right. This isn’t the time or the reason. Even though you maybe do want it. And…you do want it. When did that happen?

“No,” you say. “You don’t owe me. You shouldn’t feel like you need to kiss me or do anything with me to say thanks.”

“It’s not because of that.”

“You’re just reacting to this moment,” you try to tell her. “You’re just feeling this way because I make you feel safe, protected, and we're still in a scary place. We’ve been trying to escapee danger for, what, a few days now? You’re not thinking straight.”

“That’s not it,” she insists. She is starting to look frustrated. Suddenly she blurts out: “If that was it, then why would I have kissed you when you were asleep before and we were both safe?!”

She claps both hooves over her mouth and her eyes widen. You simply stare at her, not sure you understand what she is saying. That kiss, that warm wet velvet kiss in your dream...that was real? That was actually Twilight kissing you so sweetly? You feel a tightness in your chest and your mouth gets dry.

“You...kissed me?” you say weakly.

Twilight nods without taking her hooves off her mouth. You shake your head slowly in disbelief as a response.

“Why?”

It’s such an awkward question but it’s all you can think to say right now. Twilight lowers her hooves and stares downward. She proceeds to begin drawing circles and squares in the dirt of the cave floor.

“Well, because you looked so feverish, so upset. And you kept saying the name Miranda and reaching out for someone. I wanted to comfort you and I figured you were feeling alone and confused with that new human showing up. It just…seemed like the right thing to do. And you seemed to like it. Do you, you know, miss other humans?”

Her question catches you off guard. Since when are you the subject of this conversation? It’s so sudden that you momentarily forget about discussing this stealthy sleep kiss she apparently planted on you.

“I guess,” you say.

“You miss that special somepony you told me about?”

“She’s not...Ok, but yeah I do miss her.”

“Well I wanted to be there for you, to make you not feel so alone.” She sighs heavily. “I knew that feeling for a lot of my life before I came to Ponyville. Loneliness can be so cold, so endless feeling. And I didn’t want you to feel that.”

“I don’t feel alone when I’m with you,” you say.

She looks up into your eyes, and you can see the glistening of budding tears there. The memories of all that time alone as a filly must be so painful for her, even just talking about it sets her off. But she manages a smile for you now, ever the brave little pony.

“You don’t have to always think about me,” you say, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You should consider your own feelings too. Don’t ever do anything you don’t want to just for me.”

“Then, I should do what makes me happy first?”

“Yes,” you say with a relieved sigh. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

Twilight studies you, then again raises a hoof to your cheek. You try to stop her once more, but this time your body doesn’t react. She leans towards you, her lips parted. Your eyes begin to close and your hand again slips into the curve behind her head. You feel the need to stop her, but your body is just easing into the moment so quickly that it’s overwhelming.

“What about the man?” you manage to whisper.

“I don’t care.”

“What about-"

“I don’t care.”

“Twilight-”

“This is what I want,” the scarcely more than breathes against your mouth.

You lean forward and your lips interlock with hers. This time, you let your instincts take over and you hold her tight to you as you kiss her back. When she moans against your mouth you open it to let the sound into you. Your fingers interlace with her mane, feeling the soft warmth of her fur and her body. Now at last you can fully admit that you wanted this too. You’ve wanted this for a while in some way, though not this intensely until the last few days.

Twilight slowly draws her face away from you, the sweetness and moisture of her kiss still lingering on your lips. You open your eyes to find her staring at you, with a sort of fear in her expression. Her lower lip quivers.

“You ok?” you ask, stroking the back of her head.

“Yes I just...I’ve never.”

“Never?”

“Never...you know...”

She raises a hoof and gingerly touches it to her slightly smiling lips. The implications hit you like a ton of bricks. Holy shit. Twilight’s never been kissed before. You’re her first kiss? When you were asleep, and then here? Now it’s your turn to blush.

“Well...I-I’m honored.”

It’s all you can think to say and it sounds so damn cheesy. She smiles.

“Have you...did you ever?” she mumbles.

“Oh, kissed someone? Yeah. I’ve done that,” you admit, almost boastfully. You’ve done more than that before too, but it’s probably not right to brag about it now. Twilight looks both hopeful and embarrassed.

“Then am I doing it right? I mean, if there’s a way I can improve or a different technique I should be using, please just let me know and I'll do my best.”

“Twilight.”

“I’ve only read about it in books and seen other ponies do it before so I don’t have any real experience in-"

“Twilight.”

“I’m just saying that-"

You pull Twilight to your body again and kiss her firmly on the mouth. Her words melt away into a sigh of relaxation and pleasure. The weight of her slumping against you tips you backwards unexpectedly, and you don't try to catch yourself. You fall onto your back with her prone form resting on top of you. She squeals into your kiss at the change of position, and you cant help enjoying the feel of her body shuddering in surprise against yours. She draws her head back.

“Oh, uh Anon, I think there’s a rock under one of my legs, could we maybe move over?”

You go to shift and realize with embarrassment that no, that’s not a rock under her leg. You feel your cheeks burn.

“Anon, are you ok?”

“Um...Twilight?” You try to find a way to put this. “Stallions around here...do they...um...anatomically speaking...”

At the scientific word, her ears perk up. She looks down at her hind leg, and you watch the wheels turn in her head. Then the lightbulb comes on. She goes from looking interested, to shocked, and then to looking just as embarrassed as you.

“Oh,” she says.

“Yeah.”

“I’m...sorry?”

“No, don’t be it means I like this.”

Your face continues to feel hotter with every word. Wow, you cannot stop saying idiotic things, can you? You clench your teeth hard and tell yourself to stop talking like such an awkward loser.

“Should I...move?” Twilight asks.

“If you want to.”

“And...and if I don’t want to?”

You look up into her face as a rush of nervousness and arousal floods your senses. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? By that look in her eyes, yes that's exactly what she means.

“You can stay then,” you murmur.

You draw her chin down to you and kiss her deeply. Her body moves sensually against yours, the inside of her thigh grazing your member. Now it’s your turn to moan into her kiss. As you open your mouth she presses her tongue past your lips and against your tongue. Has she really never done this before? You return the favor, drinking in her murmurs of pleasure, sharing the same breath she holds.

Your hand trails down from her shoulder to find the curve of her back and the gently rising slope of her rear. The fur is so smooth and soft here, the muscles so firm. You squeeze her there and she presses her hips forward against you. The sensation of her grinding down against your cock is so strong that you break the kiss to gasp for air.

“I-is that ok?” Twilight asks, startled by your reaction.

She sounds breathless too. You can feel her chest heaving, her shoulders quivering.

“…Oh yes,” you say."Keep going."

She grinds against you again and you muffle a groan through gritted teeth. She stops abruptly.

“I’m afraid I might...I think I’ve gotten your pants wet.”

You’re about to say that it’s probably you and that she shouldn’t worry, since you doubt she knows much about precum. But then you feel the warmth of moisture against your upper leg. That’s…that really is her. Damn, she’s getting just as turned on as you. The feeling of her juices leaking out onto your pants only makes you harder. You press your shrouded member up into her thigh and she moans softly, looking away from you and trying to stifle the sound.

“It’s ok,” you whisper, touching her chin tenderly. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, it’s normal to react this way.”

“Oh. Ok then, as long as this what’s supposed to happen.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she says quickly, almost desperately.

You smile and she bashfully averts her gaze from you.

“If you ever want me to stop, just tell me.”

“I will.”

You again push your hips upwards and hers down against you in opposition, taking the time to slide your cock against the warm wetness seeping through your pants. It’s hard to tell if you’re hitting her pussy or not, but the shudder in her body and longing groan tell you that you’re at least doing something right. You reach down with the hand that was resting on her ass, searching for her pussy. She fidgets nervously on top of you, but it allows you enough space to reach up under her with your fingers. The fur there is slick and wet, and it’s easy to navigate towards the source. Twilight lets out a squealing moan as you touch soft wet skin, and begin exploring it with your fingers.

“Nhhy, Anon...” she breathes in pleasure. “No one’s ever...mhnnn...”

You gently kiss her as you spread her warm, wet lips and probe with one finger for her hole. You find it, and your index finger slides easily in. Twilight tosses her head back and cries out in what sounds like surprise and pleasure. You pause. She's a virgin, so maybe this is hurting her a little more than you’d guessed.

“Twilight?”

“Don’t stop,” she urges, pressing down onto your finger.

You push your finger in deeper, feeling how intensely warm and soft she is inside. You feel her muscles twitch and her hips buck involuntarily as you curl the tip of your finger slightly against her inside. She covers her mouth to stifle a moan and blushes.

“S-sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be,” you assure her. “Relax, enjoy it.”

As if you’ve flipped a switch, Twilight collapses down across your body, her front hooves pressed against your chest and her muzzle resting beside your ear and neck. You can hear her panting, shivering breaths and soft whimpers of pleasure as they slip out of her mouth. It's heavenly to know that she can at last let go of her assignments from the princess, stress of the world, hardship of earlier, all simply at your touch. You realize that you've wanted to help her do this, that some part of you just wants to give her reprieve from everything. You've wanted to be her release and maybe you've even wanted her to be yours.

You pull your finger part way out of her then push it back in, trying to develop a slow rhythm. Her breaths begin to come in time with your movements and an occasional groan or restrained whimper floats to your ear. You can tell she’s in some small amount of pain, but that it’s totally overwhelmed by pleasure, and you feel her twitching harder inside as you pick up pace.

Your member is straining against your pants, aching to burry itself inside her now. You’re thrusting up against her in time with your fingers, and Twilight’s bucking hips tease the underside of your head maddeningly. You want her right now. Here. Like this. More than any person you’ve ever known, in a way that you can’t even explain. You know she’s a pony, that this is strange and awkward, but you just don’t care. Her fluids are continuing to spread over you, and you can smell a sweet hot aroma emanating from where it’s collecting.

“Twilight,” you whisper feverishly. “Do you...do you want to? With me?”

“Mngh yes,” she moans. “Oh Celestia yes Anon!”

In a flash you’ve grabbed her body and have thrust her down onto the ground beside you. Your body acts of its own accord, but now your mind supports it and urges you onward. You have to have her. You’re going to have her. She yelps in surprise as you draw your fingers out of her and roll your body so that you’re poised over her, your hands on either side of her head. You’re breathing hard and so is she, by the looks of it. She cowers under the shadow of your body, shaking all over and looking up at you with large and frightened eyes.

A feeling of tenderness overtakes you, blending with the lust. You lower yourself and kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, then at last her lips. Her legs part and your hips gently push down onto her. She’s shaking so violently now, it’s a little unnerving. You pull back and look down at her affectionately, trying to calm her.

“I’ll go slow,” you tell her. “If it hurts too much, I’ll stop”

“I just...what if I’m not good at it. I’ve never even practiced this or read much about it. I really should have studied more.”

You smile warmly and caress her cheek.

“Twilight, it’s ok.”

She nods and shifts so that she’s flat on her back, legs spread apart. Slowly, she places her front hooves on the center of your chest and moves her tail sideways away from any potential mess. She gazes into your eyes and you see her take a deep breath and let out a long slow sigh. Her body stops trembling somewhat.

Wordlessly, you reach down at tug at your pants front to loose your hard and twitching cock. You catch a glimpse of the inviting pink of her pussy and your member slides free of your pants, almost on its own. Twilight is blushing hard at the sight of your exposed cock, but you focus is set on her body now, her perfect, wet, warm pussy. With an apprehensive hand you steady your cock in front of her opening. Her heat and wetness touch your head and a rolling wave of pleasure runs through you just at that simple pressure.

Twilight winces under you and you feel her lips twitch against your cock. With a moan you press against her resistant opening, hearing the slick squish of her skin against your skin.

“Mnh,” Twilight whimpers.

With a sudden slip your member pushes past her opening and you’re instantly deep inside her. Her body arches up into you and she lets out a sharp cry. You’re inside Twilight, you’re buried deep in her. The realization is an intense one, and you too can’t suppress an ecstatic moan. Her muscles clench, grabbing hold of your cock, and it’s all you can do not to cum right then and there.

You take a deep breath and you’re able to keep yourself from cumming. You look down at Twilight and she’s panting hard, her hooves pressing firmly but quaking against your chest. There are tears in the corners of her eyes from the initial pain of penetration, but she doesn't seem to be hurting too much now. You wait till you feel her relax and then you begin to move. Your strokes are slow and deep at first, gentle like you promised. At first Twilight is still beneath you, but soon she rolls her hips up against you with every motion you make. You begin to form a complimentary rhythm with her, thrusting deeper and more firmly every time. Her cries, initially tinged with pain, now become long groans of pleasure. She feels red hot around your cock and so tight that every squeeze is intensified.

You begin to put more force behind it and you sit up a little straighter. You grab her just above her haunches to get more leverage, pulling her body down onto your cock in time with your rhythm. Her body is hot, sweating, writhing as you move. God, you’d never have though it would feel so good to fuck a pony, especially Twilight. You can hear the slap of your body hitting her wet fur and rear, and know she's still leaking juices all over you.

Even though it's her first time, even though you're no stallion and just some human, you can feel how much she loves this. You can see in her movements, feel from the inside that she loves having you embedded so firmly in her.

“Oh Anon,” she moans. “Yes, mynhhh.”

You'd hoped to last longer, but it's been so long since you've been with anyone, even kissed anyone. You can already feel the pleasure inside you building now towards an inevitable end. Your pace increases, your hips bucking wildly as you begin to fuck her in earnest now. Her legs squeeze your hips and ribs, pulling you deep into her with every stroke.

“Twilight,” you gasp out. “I’m getting close, I’m-“

“Finish inside me,” she urges.

Her head is thrown back against the floor, eyes shut, mouth open. You give her lips a swift kiss in thanks for that sweetest of commands before you resume your thrusts. The intense rolling waves that urge you towards release are building. They’re coming more frequently now, wracking your body harder every time they crash, and you can feel Twilight spasming around your cock more frequently now too. She whimpers, a desperate, needing whinny and you realize that she’s getting close too. God, you’re going to cum at the same time.

You thrust your cock into her with full abandon, plunging yourself as deep inside her as you can, and pulling her hard against you by her middle. You pump her almost violently, her chin and hind legs bobbing with your movements.

Tension is building. Muscles tighten, heat rises, your head swims.

“C-cumming,” you manage to warn her in a hoarse whisper.

She half shrieks half moans and arches her back suddenly upwards in response. You feel her clamp down on you hard with a rush of wetness, and that’s all it takes to send you over the edge.

You thrust deep with all your force behind it, holding yourself there as you spurt your seed into her. The orgasm wracks your body once, twice. Over and over, not releasing its grasp on you. Your body empties into her as she shivers all over, from her ears down to her tail. Inside she clenches around you again and again, milking everything out of you. Then she goes limp and you too collapse down onto her, completely out of breath and spent.

You try not to crush her under your weight, but it's so hard to move. You're dizzy, weak, gasping, and she's holding onto you, stroking your back with one hoof like she wants you there on her. You slip your arms around her and roll to one side, enveloping her body with your own and burying your nose and mouth in her mane. You can smell the sharp scent of what you've just done hanging in the air inside the cave and feel the grit of dirt on your palms. You breathe it in, tasting her and you intertwined, feeling it in every one of your senses.

Did this really happen? Are you dreaming?

No. You just had sex with Twilight, your mind tells you. This happened. This is real. And it was the greatest thing you've ever felt in your life.

You feel a trembling kiss on your cheek and turn to give her one of your own. With a soft shlik you pull your hips backwards and your member slides out with a drip and gush of cum. Twilight flinches, then sighs and nuzzles her head into your neck. You both lie unmoving there together, a mess of sweat, cum, dirt and exhaustion. But together. Alive, more alive than you’ve ever felt.

“I love you Anon,” she whispers in a trembling, reverent tone.

Those words linger in your head as you drift quickly and helplessly towards sleep.

Author's Note

And now I finally get to add the sex tag to this story. I did not do this before, because I don't feel like it's fair to say a story has sex a week and five long chapters before there finally is any. I may be cruel, but I'm not that much of a tease. So here it is...hope it does not...er...disappoint?

Oh, and for any of my regulars reading this: Why yes, I CAN in fact write sex scenes that are romantic, non-kinky, and consensual. Shocking, I know.

You may remember I mentioned the characterization of Marigold before, and you may seen what I mean now. This is such a drastic change from the previous dream she's in, and she's so tender now. Perhaps the previous dream was just Anon's guilt getting to him? Perhaps now she can be kind because his debt was paid by his saving Twilight? Perhaps I should keep better track of my intentions in writing? Yeah, probably that last one.

This is the longest piece by far of this story, so I hope you enjoyed going through that.

Thank you, as always, for reading.

-Pencil

Chapter 8: Time to Waste

It’s night time when you awake. You open your eyes and there’s a moment of panic when you see the cold stone walls surrounding you and think you are back in that cave again. Then, gradually, you remember your escape and blind dash through the forest. The fall. The dream. Finding this cave. That’s where you are: the forest. In a small cave. It’s ok. Twilight and you are both ok.

Crickets are singing their ode to the night and there’s no trace of light outside now. The evening air smells crisply of pine and oak. The shadows of the cave swirl around you with the rustle of wind in the trees outside, lit only by moon and starlight. Beside you Twilight lies breathing slowly and evenly, sleeping a peaceful and dreamless sleep you hope.

The memory of earlier events washes over you like a warm wave. The smell of her body, the softness of her lips, the sound of her ecstatic moans. That happened, that was real. You look down at her tenderly and run your hand gently over the curve of her head and neck. You look down to her hindquarters and see some faded pale stains against her violet fur as evidence of your deed.

Something stirs in you seeing her body like that, your cum still gracing her purple coat. Arousal, maybe, but also pride. She’s yours now in some small way, she’s given you a most precious gift. No matter what happens to you, no matter what happens to her, that fact will remain. You were her first and you always will be.

You stretch and sit up, too alert now to go back to sleep. Even with your bit of fun the night before, there’s still a lot to think about and deal with, and you feel almost silly neglecting it all till now. Last night was…needed. Impulsive. You certainly have no regrets, but now that logic is back in your system you wonder how much time you’ve lost. You need to get back to Ponyville before more ponies put themselves in danger for you. You need to find food, water, figure out where the fuck you are. Your days of injuries still make you feel weak, but you’ve gained strength with rest and the food Twilight found. You’re strong enough to make your way home.

How long have you actually been away, you wonder. You count the sunsets and dawns you’ve witnessed. At the hillside, day one. In the cave, at least day two. You ran for a long time, well into the afternoon, and it was morning when you woke up in Twilight’s arms. That means you were unconscious for a full day in the woods with Twilight? Shit, no wonder she had time to collect food and heal her own wounds so perfectly. And now tonight.

You’ve been gone for a total of at least three nights then, which means they’re definitely looking for you. They may have called in Celestia or the guards by now. It’s only a matter of time before they venture this far, especially if they have that zebra Zecora for a guide and Pegasi searching from the clouds. So..it’s only a matter of time before the man finds one of them and captures them. Or worse.

Now you really do feel a twinge of panic in staying away for so long.

It’s night now, though, so there’s not much you can do. You don’t know the woods well or how to find edible plants. Any signal you sent for help would also attract the man. So all you can do now, if you feel up for it, is to figure out where you are. Sure, Twilight has said that she’ll just teleport up to the top of the rocks in the morning, but if you do it for her then she can save her magic for other possible issues. Besides, you feel like climbing, running, being alive. You just had the most amazing sex of your life and the lack of endorphins in your body now by comparison is getting to you. A shot of adrenalin might do you good.

You look back to her before you go, drinking in the image of her lying there with your mark on her. You take a mental picture, memorize every detail, burn it into your thoughts.

"Sleep well," you whisper.

Placing a soft kiss on Twilight’s cheek, you creep out of the cave into the beckoning night.

The dark sky stretches above you, an endless field of white gleams and swirls of light cloud. The moon is low, signaling that night will soon be over. The air is crisp, but not so cold that it bites through your now stained and ratty shirt. For the first time in days, you feel some measure of peace. You have a task ahead of you, a sense of purpose, and only mild desperation coursing through your veins. All you have to do right now is climb. You look up at the mass of rock in front of you, defiant in the generally flat landscape. The stone is mostly a slatey gray, though there are lines running through it that resemble granite. It doesn’t look particularly difficult to climb, and the light of the large, full moon gives you a good picture of what you’re doing. More than that, nothing really looks very vertical. You may just be able to walk up the damn thing if you choose your steps carefully.

You start out next to the small semi-cave with an easy foothold. The jutting bits of rock make easy handholds and you find it ladder-like as you begin your ascent. Sure enough, after only a few feet ,you find a flat spot that leads to another open space. Then another. A few steps up, a simple hop from this ledge to that. It’s surprisingly simple.

You’re vaguely aware that this is probably not the safest way to do things, but you trust your own steps. You’ve climbed before, back in your own world, and by comparison to some previous climbs this is incredibly easy. Any sense of danger slips away as you focus in on your next step, next move. It’s just you and that next foot of rock, nothing else matters. You go higher and higher quickly, moving fluidly between ledges and spires, rarely even using your hands for anything more than balance.

There’s a low glow on the horizon as you finally near the top. You can’t see the sun yet, but its light is creeping up over he hills, and you finally get a good look at your surroundings.
Trees stretch out far towards rolling hills of bright green grass. Light clouds dot the sky and occasional spikings of rock jut up through the foliage below. Unfortunately, here are no obvious landmarks that jump out at you as being places you've been to or heard about. How far exactly did you run? You squint your eyes and follow the line of the horizon trying to spot anything you find familiar.

Then you see it.

Far off to your left, behind a low dip of hills, a fluffy column rises into the air. Smoke? It puffs up in a solid mass like a thick cloud. By the size of it, you can tell that whatever it is has been burning for some time now. As the light crowns upon the horizon, the smoke is lit up revealing...pink?

Yep, pink.

Like a huge mass of airborne cotton candy, the pink smoke shines out it’s signal to you clear as day. We’re here, it says. Ponyville is right here, come home to us. You can’t help but smile as you think of Pinkie Pie fueling that fire for you to try to get you home. They couldn’t find you, so they wanted to make sure that you could find them.

Your smile quickly fades, though. If you can find them, so can the man. He might even believe the smoke comes from you and Twilight and make a b-line for Ponyville, if he’s checked up above the treelike yet! A lump forms in your throat as you realize that, as kind as Pinkie’s intensions might be, she’s putting everyone at risk. Shit. And they don't even know what's coming.

Scrambling in the new light of day, you make your way down the rock towards where Twilight is still sleeping. Your heart has begun to pound, and you ignore the swirling in your own head as you make your descent. A very real fear has begun to take hold, that these totally unprepared ponies will have no idea how to defend themselves against a human with weapons. Hell, you’re not even sure how many weapons he has, or if ponies besides guards have weapons!

You jump the last few feet to the ground and half sprint to the cave.

“Twilight, wake up!” you hiss, shaking her shoulder.

Twilight makes a happy murmuring noise, stretches like some sort of cat, and blinks her eyes hard a few times. She lifts her head slowly, focuses on you, and smiles gently.

“Good morning Anon,” she says with a yawn. Then she seems to notice your alarmed expression. “What is it?”

“Pinkie Pie’s sent a smoke signal up so we can get home.”

"Well that’s wonderful!” she says, sitting up with a grin. “It…is, isn’t it?”

“It’s visible for miles. Visible to anyone who bothers to fucking look. And if the man thinks we’ve run off…”

Her smile falls.

“He’ll go straight to Ponyville.”

“My thoughts exactly,” you say. “We need to get moving. Now.”

She’s on her feet before you can even finish the sentence.

“Come on, let’s go,” she says, dashing out of the cave past you. “Which way is the smoke?”

You point to your left.

“Miles off maybe, but we can probably make it there in an hour or two if we try”

“Then let’s try.”

She begins to trot swiftly in that direction, and you hit a light jog to keep up. It’s a slightly faster pace than you would have liked, but you need to get to Ponyville as soon as possible. Even if it hurts, even if you honestly have no idea what you’re going to do when you get there. All you know is that you have to get there, you just have to. You’ve wasted too much time already.

An hour or so later, you have to drop out of your very gentle jog. The gnawing feeling in your stomach is beginning to take over, and your mouth is dry from how long you’ve been without water. Panting, you slow down to nearly a trudge.

“I’m sorry Twilight,” you gasp. “I can’t keep going like this. I need...I need to...”

Twilight too slows her pace and she turns around to face you. She looks frustrated at your exhaustion, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“Ok, ok,” she says with a heavy sigh. “Why don’t we rest for just a few minutes, alright?”

“Yes, please. I won’t be long.”

You stand still for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Twilight too stops, but she shifts her weight impatiently from hoof to hoof, almost prancing with anxiousness. Minutes pass and you still don’t feel any better or more able to run. If only you had something to eat. If only you had some water.

“Hey Twilight,” you say, struck with a sudden thought. “I don’t suppose you have magic that can turn rocks into food, do you?”

She brightens.

“Actually I do! It’s not perfect, but I can turn things into apples and oranges if you want me to give it a shot.”

“An orange, if you’re able. I can at least get some juice to drink with that.”

Twilight searches the ground, then nods as she spots a pinecone.

“Hold that,” she orders. “And stand to one side so I don’t accidentally hit you.”

“You...could turn ME into an orange?”

“I told you I wasn’t perfect at this.”

You swallow hard as you hold the pinecone at arm’s reach and wait. Twilight spreads her legs and distributes her weight evenly over them as she readies herself. Then, she lowers her horn, closes her eyes, and begins to concentrate. A spark of light flies from her horn tip, then it begins to glow. A ray of violet light shoots out to the pinecone which also begins to glow and levitate slightly off of your hand. To your amusement and wonder, the pinecone spins, becoming smaller and rounder with each rotation. All at once it flashes brightly, and a large shining orange plops heavily into your palm.

“Holy shit Twilight!”

You've seen her do basic magic before, move things, teleport, change things colors. But this is another level of cool. You beam at her, openly impressed. She smiles weakly and wipes a few drops of sweat from her forehead.

“Glad to help. Whatever gets us to Ponyville sooner.”

You peel and bite into the orange, passing a section to Twilight for her own strength. The juices, sweet at first, soon turn on your tastebuds. You grimace and look to Twilight. She also wears a disgusted expression.

“Still tastes like pine to you too?”

“Yep,” she says with a sigh. “But it’ll have to do, we need to get moving.”

You quickly down the rest of the orange, trying to ignore its bizarre flavor. Even though it tastes awful, you can feel it quenching your thirst somewhat and revitalizing your muscles. You toss the peel onto the ground and nod to Twilight that you’re ready to go. You may have lost a little time, but you estimate that it hasn't been long, so your lack of good stamina hasn't done much damage to your travels.

Twilight again begins a brisk pace, and you jog beside her as best you can. Your muscles are sore, your head burns, but at least your stomach isn’t killing you anymore.

“How much further you think?” Twilight calls over her shoulder to you.

“Maybe a mile? Not much, less than an hour?”

“Good,” she calls. “And still no sign of-"

As if on cue, the rope tightens around one of her front hooves. She shrieks as she topples forward onto the ground, the rope jerking taught beneath her. You move frantically to help her, but a sudden spike of pain at your throat stops you.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice says at your ear.

The knife again pricks your throat and you stand stalk still. You feel color and strength draining from your body as you realize where you are, who this is, and what sort of position you're now in. Where did he come from? How did he find you?

Twilight scrambles to her feet, shaking off the rope, and spins to face the two of you. She lowers her horn and strikes the ground with one hoof menacingly.

“Let him go,” she growls.

“No no, not this time,” the man says with a smile in his voice. “You see, I figured it out. You’re the one with power, you purple bitch. He’s the one I need to threaten and capture, not you. Fuck, I should have killed you in the first place.”

“How did you find us?” You say, but he grips your arm tightly and painfully before you can ask any more questions or try to squirm away.

“Oh, I heard you running this way after I saw that pink shit in the sky. I followed you and when you took a rest I set up this lovely little trap just barely in your path. Didn’t take long either, but I appreciate the opportunity.”

Your stupid hunger. Your stupid decisions. This is all your fault, you realize. Again. How are you this stupid? Twilight shows no animosity towards you, just concern.

“I swear, if you hurt him I’ll…I’ll kill you,” she says, still holding her horn at the ready.

“Twilight he won’t-“

“Shut up,” the man tells you. “You are in no position to say a word right now. All you’re going to do is follow me and help me and there’s not going to be any bargaining this time.”

“Why should I help you, I’d rather you kill me,” you hiss.

“Because I know where all the ponies live,” he says softly. “And I know how much you care about all of them now. If you don’t help me, I don’t leave this place and I go right on killing ponies as I see fit. So it’s in your best interest now.”

“Anon, don’t-” Twilight tries to say, but the man jerks the knife against your skin and it silences her.

You search your brain for a way out of this, some come-back, some plan, anything. But he’s right. Chillingly right. As long as he's here or alive, no ponies are really safe. That means you have to kill him or help him, and being that he's the one with the knife right now you don't see the first option as being very likely.

“What about Twilight?” you demand.

“She can go home,” he says. “I’m fucking tired of dealing with her, she only causes complications. And if she comes back for you, I can kill her. If you don’t help me I can just kill her later. I won’t underestimate that magic again, mark my words. But if she knows you're in danger if she comes for you, and if she knows you're safe as long as you're helping me, then it sounds like we're at a pretty good stalemate. Right? All I need is you now.”

Her magic…it’s not strong enough to stop him, you think. But maybe…maybe a stronger, more experienced pony…

“I’m not leaving him you psycho,” Twilight says sharply.

“Yes, you will.”

Your words seem to shock her, and even you are surprised by their force. She takes a step back.

“What? But Anon…”

“I won’t let anyone else get hurt because of me. Just go home, tell the others. Tell those in charge that I know what I’m doing.”

You try to emphasize this last part, hoping she gets the hint. You also try to make your voice confident, but you’re quaking inside. You know he’s just going to kill you once you tell him what you know, but you can’t let Twilight see that in your face.

“Please. I’ll be fine,” you add, not believing it at all.

She shakes her head.

“No, Anon I’m not-”

“Twilight!” you bark, and she shuts her mouth. “Please. Go home. Be safe. The others will come looking for us if we don’t come back, and we can’t risk anyone else’s safety.”

The man has remained silent for a while, probably amused at your little argument, you decide. Still, that grip never loosens and the knife barely gives you enough leeway to say what you have to or swallow your fear. Now he does speak.

"He's safe as long as he helps me and you leave us the fuck alone. Which means you're all safe too, get it?"

Twilight is still shaking her head slowly back and forth still.

“No. But-”

“Please Twilight. Go. You have to make sure everyone knows.”

Her eyes fill with tears as she stares up at the man then back down at you, and you think you see some bitter recognition there. At least you hope you do. You force yourself to smile, despite the man behind you tightening his grip on your arm and throat. Twilight glares at him then turns all attention to you, her face completely wracked by grief.

“Please come home,” she begs you. “Please come back to me safe.”

Without saying another word, she turns and gallops away into the woods, headed for Ponyville and safety. Despite your fear, you feel a wash of relief knowing that she’s not going to be hurt anymore. No one else is going to die because of you. You’ll make sure of that now, alone, with no one else at risk. The man loosens his grip on your arm, but doesn’t pull the knife too far from you. He walks to stand in front of you, knife still trained on you just in case you try to run. Then, as if giving you a slight bow, he opens his arms wide, a rope dangling from one hand, and smiles.

“Just you and me now,” he says warmly. “Lets get this over with, shall we?”

Author's Note

For those who enjoyed the previous sex scene, yay, I'm glad. For those who did not, no worries, it's the only one in here. Just wanted to let you know. I certainly don't regret writing it because 'thank god we're alive sex' is great and everyone should try it sometime (though just out of the hospital sex is better and I hope you never experience it.) But jeeze, Anon, think with the head that ISN'T between your legs.

I wrote myself more than one logic hole in this part, and I've done my best to fill them in, but I can really tell I took quite a break between this part and the previous one. Ugh. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Also, pine tasting oranges are great, I dunno what Anon is so bent out of shape about.

Thanks, as always, for reading, even when I'm just writing smut. :heart:

-Pencil

Chapter 9: Where I Woke

He ties your arms in front of you this time, but binds them all the way up to the elbow. The leash is also longer, but he loops it several times over the top of his hand to be sure you can't tug it away from him again. He's taking no chances now, you can tell, even with the assurance that he’ll leave the ponies alone so longs you help. You won't be able to get much past him. As he secures you, you notice the brown stains on his hairline and side. The one on his hairline looks like it only stopped bleeding recently.

"She fucked you up pretty good, didn't she?" you say, unable to hold back a grin. “Surprised your jaw isn’t broken.

The man glares at you and pulls your bonds all the tighter. It stings, but you don't care. At least you know Twilight did some serious damage to him before. You hope beyond hope that Twilight has heeded your words. You hope she's nearing home now, and safety. That she'll hug Spike when she sees him, tell everyone what happened, pass along word to Marigold's family. And that she’ll contact one very specific pony. And then, you hope she'll keep everyone else away until all this is over. Maybe she'll even find your body in a few weeks and burry it, assuming this asshole leaves her a body to bury.

That thought doesn't sit well, and you try to push it from your mind.

Once he’s finished trying you, he stands and inspects his work. With a satisfied nod, he jerks you close to him, winding the rope leash across his knuckles once more for good measure.

“Now,” he says slowly. “We’re going to start walking. We’re not going to stop until you take me to where you first got into this fucking place, is that clear?”

You nod.

“And if you try anything weird, I’ll kill you and then your little pony friends. Clear?”

You nod again.

It’s true that images of a possible escapes have flashed through your mind, but he’s right that if you want this to be over, you should just play along. If he’s gone, even if you’re gone too, this world will be better for it. When you nod to him, you truly mean it this time. He smiles halfheartedly at you, still seeming satisfied with how things are going so far.

“Lets go before your little pony girlfriend gets any heroic ideas,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

You feel your stomach twist at the mention of the word ‘girlfriend.’ You glare at him, but you’re sure he can see the surprise behind your anger. He chuckles.

“What, think I didn’t notice?” he asks mockingly. “You don’t do a very good job of cleaning up after yourself, you know. And you think I’m the sick one, you animal fucker you.”

In a fleeting thought, you wonder if the others will notice too and if they'll have anything to say about it. Then he jerks you in front of him and gives you a shove forwards, back away from Ponyville, into the forest. You stumble, surprised at how tired you are. Sure, it makes sense with all the running, the injuries, the stress. But it seems to all catch up with you right now. Maybe your body can sense that there’s not much more it can do, that there’s no desperation or drive now feeling you on with adrenalin. Maybe it can feel that you’ve given up.

Think now, you tell yourself. You have to get to where you woke up that first day. If Ponyville is behind you, that means it’s not far from here. You just have to remember. You scan the forest in front of you for something to remind you, anything. At first, there’s nothing. Then…

You stumbled blindly here, you recount, head bleeding, dizzy. You fell into a ditch, over a thick set of tree roots. You scrabbled in the dirt, confused as to what had happened and how you’d gotten here. Those tree roots maybe? That ditch? You’re not sure yet, but you’ve definitely been here before, and that’s a start. You crawled more often than you walked, head swimming, body mud-caked. You remember being clumsy and confused, like you were still half awake. And when you saw the buildings in front of you, they called to you and you ran as fast as your body allowed.

You fell at Pinkie pies feet, not caring that this was a pink horse with a cotton candy mane. You didn't care that she talked when she noticed you, or that all the other ponies did too. You didn't care about any of that. You were just glad to be somewhere, anywhere at all. It was more natural to be around brightly colored, misshapen, talking ponies than it was for you to be completely alone in those woods.

You trudge slowly forward in front of your captor, eyes to the ground where you exhaustedly crawled so many months ago. You can hear the man grunting behind you, sounding just as tired and pained as you. Without warning, you trip over one of the tree roots and fall face-first into the dirt without your arms free to stop you. You feel the rope go taught and the sound of the man stumbling forward as well. Your elbows find dirt, painfully propping your face away from the ground, and the wind leaves your lungs. The man doesn't seem to fall, and you see his shadow pass over you so that he's standing in front. He growls and drags you forward through the dirt, tugging at you to get up.

“Damn,” he mutters. “What I’d give for a pair of handcuffs right now.”

You blink up at him as you try to get your feet under you. At last, you maintain some balance and he pushes you back in front of him so that you can lead again. Handcuffs? Why would he want handcuffs instead of a rope? You suddenly have a very distinct and very horrifying thought. Is…is he going to rape you? He’s going to rape you, isn’t he. You try to dismiss that idea as ludicrous. There’s no reason to think that, There’s no evidence there, your head just isn’t on straight with all the events up till now. Stop assuming anything, you tell yourself. It could get you into even worse trouble.

“Why?” you grumble as you trudge onward, trying not to sound too suspicious.

He shoves your shoulder to tell you to pick up the pace and to stop asking questions. You quicken your steps very slightly, in no rush to get to your destination.

“Because I do, ok?”

He’s quiet a moment as you move slowly through the forest, and you think that might be the end of the thought. Then he abruptly speaks up again.

“I’m more familiar with them, wouldn’t have to think back to my time in the fucking boy scouts to remember how to tie good knots. Hell of a time, the scouts, though couldn’t stand all the fucking songs, was happy to get into real life from there. At least no one makes you sing at your job. Hey, what did you do for a living back in our world anyway?”

You glare at him over your shoulder. He wants to make small-talk now? Really? After he tried to kill you and Twilight, beat the fuck out of you, hunted you down, and is now leading you around like a toy on a string? Oh, that sounds like a totally sane thing for a killer to do. He shoves your shoulder again.

“Come on,” he urges, returning your glare. “I might decide not to kill you if I like your answers.”

“Oh sure."

"Hey, have I lied to you yet? It might help, you never know, and buddy, you need all the help you can get.”

You doubt it will do any good, but it’s not like you have anything better to do. And maybe if he sees you as human, he’s less likely to murder you in cold blood.

“I’m a student,” you say. “Decent enough grades. Tried sports, was only really good at track though. Worked part time at a pet shop for a bit. That’s about it.”

It’s stunning how vastly mediocre your life sounds laid out like that. He chuckles behind you.

“Sounds relaxing.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Oh suck it the fuck up you whiner,” he says dismissively. "I've never met a student that admits school is easy while their in it. Get into the working world, then come talk to me."

You somehow doubt that's ever going to happen, given he's intending to kill you soon. Besides, the working world here is a little bit different than that back on earth. You don't voice this opinion on your impending death to him though. Best not to remind him.

"I bet your job is hell, right?" you ask him, sounding more sarcastic than you really meant to. "No one really likes their job. Well, except here."

It's true, you realize. No one here hates their work. But then again, they mostly do what their good at and actually want to do, which is a far cry from your world. Once they hit puberty, everything kind of clicks into place, and there’s an actual sign on their body telling them what their calling is in life. They’re so lucky, you muse. None of them will regret how they spend their life.

“And what's so great about this place? You have a good life here? Wild animals, talking fucking ponies, everything so bright and cheery all the time no matter what, and no women so you have to fuck candy-colored horses. In fact, no other people at all, you’re pretty much a freak. You’re fucking deluding yourself," he scoffs, shaking his head as if he pities you. "I mean, Jesus, it’s like an endless trip on the ‘it’s a small world after all’ ride. But with more stupid catchy music.”

You can’t help but snicker at how seriously distressed he sounds. You’ve always found it a nice reprieve from how your life was on earth. A female friend that you were getting nowhere with but wanted like crazy. Low grades, normal everyday boring bullshit. A job that you quit because you couldn’t stand to send unsold puppies to shelters and pounds. Just…general unfairness of everything and a lack of genuine justice or sense. By comparison, this is perfect. In its own way, this place makes actual sense to you in its bizarre rated-G order. He gives your back a sharp punch at your snicker, which knocks that laugh right out of you.

“It’s not fucking funny. I never thought it would be like this.”

“I just don’t see the problem. I mean, you don’t have to act like you are or hurt people. It’s not like you’re alone in the harsh wilderness and being attacked by wild animals,” you mutter.

That’s probably a bit much, but you’re surprised to find that he doesn’t lash out at you. He walks on, and you hear him sigh slowly behind you. When he speaks, his voice is even, maybe even a little sad.

“I’d prefer that,” he says. “I could at least deal with that, work with that. You know how I killed that fucking bear?”

Your stomach tightens. You don’t want to hear this. That bear could be one of Fluttershy’s friends, and they’re all cuddles and love here, like huge ridiculous teddy bears. You don’t want to hear the details of that bear’s death, how this human first disrupted this peaceful place. Unfortunately, it seems like you don’t have much of a choice.

“I’d made a fire because it was getting cold. And all of a sudden this big brown fucker waddles out of the woods with a fish in its mouth. I’m scared shitless and ready to book it, but you know what it does? It takes a stick and skewers the fish and starts to roast it over my fire. I mean, are you kidding me? It’s just sitting there sharing my fire and smiling at me with this fish. I didn’t know what to do at first. And then it kind of half roars at me like it’s being friendly and trying to start a damn conversation. And I figure, maybe this is a trained bear. Maybe it’s all docile and shit.”

You feel sick. You want to shut your eyes, cover your ears but you can’t. All you can do is keep walking and listening.

“And you know, I’ve been hunting before, and I’m thinking to myself that I don’t know how long I’m going to be here, and this bear could make me a pretty useful blanket and a shit ton of food, especially if he’s not a threat. And he’s just sitting there, so it could be the easiest kill I’ve ever had. So I walk over the bear, acting all friendly, sit next to him, see if he’s really that well trained, take out Emily. Fucker doesn't even give a shit that I'm holding a potential weapon. And then I just toss a rock, all nonchalant into the woods. The bear looks and BAM!”

You wince at the word. He swings one arm and lightly taps you on the side of the head to indicate where he hit the bear.

“Right across the back of his head and I hear the crack. And he falls forward, and I’m pretty sure he’s dead, but I keep hitting the back of his head anyway until I can see broken skull because damned if bears aren’t hard to kill in our world anyway.”

You swallow back pain and rage. The bear probably thought the man would be just like you. That he was friendly, friends with Fluttershy, just a nice guy. You probably had met this bear, maybe scratched his head. You taught this bear that humans wouldn't hurt him just by existing. Yet another thing that your presence here has caused.

You also spot the crowbar then, dangling from his belt loop. You wonder how many animals he’s killed with it, how much blood it’s had on it. You know it at least has a good portion of yours, and that it may have more of it sooner rather than later.

“And that’s when I decided, if this is what I get, if this is fucking it that they think I deserve, then I’m going to destroy all of it. Not going to take it sitting down or quietly, because it’s not fair, and for once it’s supposed to be fucking fair. If they expect me to be grateful or accepting for this bullshit they gave me, they’re dead wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” you say, shaking your head. “You keep saying they, who’s they?”

He laughs bitterly.

“Wow, you still don’t get it, do you? Of course you don’t, you’re not even sure how you got here.”

He's right about that, and you're obviously not getting something about this line of conversation. Even as you walk on in silence for a while, curiosity is beginning to creep into your mind, and a ghost of a suspicion, something you never dared to actually consider, is beginning to awaken.

“And how did you get here then, do you even know?” you mutter, still trying to keep the subject on him rather than you.

He’s silent behind you again, and you feel the rope on your wrists go taught as he stops walking for a step before starting again. Once more, his voice has a softer, more reflective tone now, like he’s actually human for a change.

“I stopped to check out an abandoned factory building. There had been reports of vandalism and my partner and I were there first. I had a crowbar in the back of our car from a project at home with the girlfriend, so I was prying a board off the door to get in to check it all out. Didn’t want to duck in the open window, too much broken glass. And I’m standing there, prying at this wood, when there’s a screech and this big fucking green escalade drives past wi-“

Partner? Reports of vandalism? No...

“Wait, wait, hold on a minute,” you say, comprehension spreading coldly over you. “You were a cop?!”

There’s no possible way…but then again, it matches up with some of the things he's said. The handcuffs, the coldness in the face of danger and death and blood. He laughs again, that bitter cynical laugh to match his smile.

“What, surprised? Don't be. Yeah, I was a cop. For two years, maybe the best years of my life, doing my duty to keep the general population safe. I put criminals away, put my life on the line, and this is what I get? This is ALL I fucking get?”

You can hear rage beginning to fill his voice, and his tone is higher, jadedly sarcastic. You're not sure how to respond to this, but you can tell this is not the best situation for you to be in. Even the jerks on your rope are getting more frequent and harsher.

“Sure, I was using the position to get my fix when I needed it," he continues, now dismissive. “I wasn’t perfect no one on the force was. Keeping my dealers around, looking the other way, and maybe I used the position when it came to women on occasion, but I never hit them or nothing. My girl never even knew, so it couldn’t hurt her. I went after the fuckers who deserved it, gave em a little extra love too, just enforcing justice. And none of that pad stuff erases all the good I did. I wasn’t nice, but I was just doing my job. Besides, those fuckers back-stabbed me when they shot me and my partner that day. That's a hero's death, dying in the line of duty. And where was my fucking parade? I didn’t even get to see it.”

“They shot you?”

Your brain is reeling as you almost yell these words. This doesn’t make sense, it can’t make sense. This killer, this crazed man is a cop? You've heard of dirty cops, and you've never really liked cops in general, to say the least. But a cop being a serial killer is like something out of a TV crime drama. It’s such an extreme change, even if it all just points to him loving power. And he was shot? You haven’t seen a mark on him anywhere except what Twilight left. How long has he been here? Not long enough for a bullet wound to heal, assuming he could even survive that.

“Yeah, right in chest,” he says. “Though there was no hole when I woke up. And I wake up HERE? After all I did, God sends me here? No, I’m not standing for that. There are no rules here I’m finding out pretty quick, so I guess all those guys I took down off the streets had it right. This is the way to live, especially if you get sent here anyway after being a fucking cop for two years. But if I can use you to find a way back to my life or at least out of here, then the jokes on them, right?”

He can’t be saying that. What you think he’s saying. You feel cold bile in your throat, and you swallow it down hard.

“Why do you keep saying they sent you here, or that God sent you, wha-”

You feel a hand grip your shoulders. It spins you to face him, and now you are only inches from his face. Your body flies backwards, his hands gripping your shirt and driving back, back. You feel a painful jolt as the back of your head and body hits a tree. He holds you there, toes inches above the ground. Pain shoots though your body and you cough at the sudden and unexpected impact. He holds his face closer to you, looking searchingly into your eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

There's something there, real emotion. That fake pity you saw before seems quite real now.

“You poor son of a bitch, don’t you get it?” he says in a low murmur. “That gunshot killed me, just like your fall killed you. And the powers that be sent us here.”

Your breath freezes in your lungs. You try to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Do you understand now? We’re dead. We’re both dead…and this is Hell.”

He releases you, and you fall without any resistance to your knees. He steps back to observe you as all this sinks in, but you're hardly aware of him. You're hardly aware of anything. You stare at the earth in front of you, that ground that you first found the day you got here. The day you were running with Miranda, you fell head first down that short ravine. You hit your head. You just hit your head, that was all, right? There was a cave in after that or something, a sinkhole you slipped down to get here, some Alice in Wonderland style rabbit-hole. You don't remember it, but that had to have happened. That’s all there was, right?

But you can’t stop the thoughts from coming. That doubt, that slight distant doubt is talking to you now and you can't help but listen.

When you woke up you were lying on the grass on your back, and you felt peaceful. When you opened your eyes, everything looked so strange, but you weren’t afraid. You were tired, desperate to get somewhere, needing some form of reassurance, but you never felt bad necessarily. It was like coming home, like this is where you were meant to be. And you had that passing thought, that brief moment, where you wondered to yourself ‘Am I dead? Am I dreaming?’ You were dizzy. You crawled. You blacked out, but you never once felt really afraid. And after that, you were never hungry, you only ate because you felt like it. And you were never sad until this man showed up. Everything just always felt so right because…

You breathe in, and the air tastes sweet in your lungs.

You are. You're dead.

The weight of it crushes down on your shoulders, and you can't shake the sudden and overwhelming feeling of loss. It's like waking up a second time, and instantly forgetting that dream you were reveling in only seconds before. Then, something else comes to you. The happiness, the good feelings, the perfection, the dream that this place has been for you...

You really are dead, but this isn’t hell. No. This…this is your heaven.

“Get up, you can cry about it later,” the man shouts, jerking you up off of your knees.

You stand shakily and begin to walk, remembering clearly now where exactly you woke up. It’s close to here, less than a mile now, and the terrain is easy from here on. You trudge on for a while in silence, letting him push you, redirect you without a word of protest. You almost feel numb.

You're dead. You're dead. The thought keeps going through your mind over and over, and while it makes sense, you can scarcely believe it's true. You don’t really want to believe it, but you do now. You feel some amount of horror, but at the same time you strangely, irrationally feel like smiling. Your life here has been perfect, very heavenly in fact. The ponies you've met, the places you've seen. It was all exactly what you wanted, even if you would never have guessed it before. Twilight loves you, Marigold, young though she was, had a crush on you and treated you so sweetly. Pinkie gave you an amazing place to stay, Rainbow Dash was a fantastic friend. Rarity was support for you when you asked, and Applejack gave you something to do when you felt useless. Really, it was everything you could have asked for. More than you deserved.

Until he came, of course. Everything changed after that. There was pain again, suffering. Maybe it will go back to being free of all that once this man is gone. You'll probably be gone too, if he does intend on killing you. But at least this place will regain what it had before both of you were here. One question suddenly comes to you, and you swallow hard as you suspect you know the answer. Still, you can’t help it. You have to ask.

“If we’re dead, what makes you think we can get back? Our bodies will be buried or cremated or whatever. And why are we going to where I showed up, why not where you showed up?”

He chuckles, and you’re chilled by how absolutely amused he sounds now.

"You said you'd help me, right?"

"Yeah."

“Well, we can bleed here, right? So, we can die here too probably, but what happens when you die and you’re already dead?”

“I don’t know, why does it matter?”

“Well,” he says softly, and you feel the cold spark of the crowbar resting against the side of your neck. “I think when you die here you might go back. It makes just about as much sense as anything else here. But we’ve got to test that theory now, don’t we? And since you’re the only other human here, you’re going to help me find out.”

You gulp down a breath of air and don’t respond. You knew it was coming to this, but didn't want to say it. You feel the crowbar leave your neck.

"Hey, I've never lied to you. I told you I'd probably kill you eventually."

As if on cue, you see the opening of the clearing in front of you, smell that mild waft of daisies and moist grass. The sun beams down onto the empty patch of earth near the center, padded with moss and mushrooms, and the wind blows a few white flower petals from a nearby blooming tree. Peace fills you at the sight of it as the scents and sights provoke a memory of that very first night. And you know this is where you were dead once. You know this is where you first awoke to your new life, your heaven.

The man sighs behind you and the peaceful feeling is gone.

"Your gravesite I presume?"

You swallow hard, realizing that this may have once been the place where you died. And worse, that it may be that again very soon.

Author's Note

Ok, so, to everyone who is currently rage-quitting this story, thank you for reading. I appreciate that you got this far, and I do not blame you one bit.

I will say a very brief word in my defense though:
When I wrote this part, the whole "Equestria is heaven" was still a pretty new thing. Not perfectly new, but not as widespread and overused as it is now. In fact, RIGHT after I wrote this part, I saw a comic of someone dying in the hospital and waking up in Equestria. I was kind of a little really mad. I know that most other writers have had the experience of going "HEY this is a great idea!" writing it, then finding out that someone else not only did it before you, but that they did it better.
Uuuuugh. So this is a cliche now. I'm not a death-Equestria hipster, I didn't do it before it was cool. I just did it before I knew it was already a thing and before it got intolerably common. It's frustrating to re-read this part, knowing and seeing all I do now in the world of mlp fanfiction, but it is what it is. And it does feed the plot from here on out the way I intended.

And for those mad about the cop thing...hahaha wow, I could NOT have predicted the media shitstorm going on right now about police brutality and corruption. This is NOT aimed at anything involving any of that, so let's not even go into that. I watch a fuckton of film noir. I am easily inspired by such things. Him being a cop is not even slightly inspired by any true events.

For those who are going to finish this story out with me, I do thank you. There is one more part, then an alternate ending (with a lengthy author's note from me about this, as well as some tips about writing some stuff.) So in the end, this is 11 parts, rather than 12. Either way, you're almost through, so thanks for sticking around.

See you for the big finale soon!

-Pencil

Chapter 10: Our Parts to Play

Your whole body tenses as the man shoves you towards the center of the clearing. You feel the dread taking over, panic settling in. Your mind begins to race, and you tell yourself to calm the fuck down. Now. Just breathe. You can figure a way out of this, you just know it. And even if you can’t get out of it, you need to at least make it so that this psycho never harms Ponyville folks or anyone in this world ever again.

Your breath feels scratchy in your throat, hot and dry in your mouth. You swallow, but there’s no moisture there.

“There’s no reason for you to think this will work,” you choke out. “The whole thing makes literally no sense, where did you even get that?”

You glance over your shoulder and the man shrugs.

“No reason to think it won’t work, plus no skin off my nose when you try it first.”

“But...what if it sends me to another place instead? A further hell?”

You use his word for Equestria, even though it hardly suits the place. Anything you can do to get on this guy’s level, any way for you to speak his language, might help. The man frowns a little, considering what you’ve said, but then he just shrugs again.

“Oh well, then at least I won’t have to deal with your annoying ass anymore.”

He gives you another push towards the center of the clearing, more forcefully this time. You can feel your hands trembling in their bonds and your palms getting slick with sweat.

“But how will you even know if it works once you do it?” you say quickly. “You won’t be able to tell that I’m back in our world, so how-"

You’re cut off by the hard impact of metal against your back. The force knocks the words out of your mouth along with all of your breath, and you wheeze as you sprawl forward onto the grass. You feel the resonance of the metal up and down your vertebrae.

“Just. Shut. Up.” The man says slowly and calmly. “We’re going to do this, I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I won’t find out unless I do it. If it doesn’t work, fuck it. If it does, I’m sure something weird will happen here to let me know.”

There’s no way this is going to send you back. You weren’t lying when you said this plan made absolutely zero sense. You’re sure of it, and you wonder if maybe he hasn’t just entirely snapped and wants to take out some more of his rage on you. Or maybe he actually believes what he’s saying. It doesn’t really even matter, the end result will be the same. He steps forward to stand over you, the sun’s light framing him from behind and making his form look dark and forbidding. He stands with one leg on either side of your shoulders, his boot pressing down on your lead rope so you can’t scramble away.

You could fight back. You could grab the crowbar, kill him, and this could all be over that quickly. But you don’t have the strength for that anymore, do you. You’ve been hit in the head, healed with unicorn magic, hit again, run for miles, been beaten, kicked..it’s too much. You could struggle away, but in your state he’d probably just kill you more painfully. And then what would happen to Twilight? The others?

No. This is over.

You’ve lost.

“Now, is there anything you want to say or do before we get this over with?” the man asks as you lie still under him. “Last requests are something I feel like should be honored, even here in this situation.”

Anything you want to do? Fuck, there’s so many things you wish you’d done. You wish you could have saved Marigold. You wish you could have said goodbye to Miranda when you died in the real world. You wish you could have given Twilight one more kiss, hugged Pinkie Pie one more time, had one more bite of Mrs. Cake’s cooking. But none of that’s going to happen. You fucked everything up, and now you’re here and you’re going to be killed.

“No,” you barely whisper. “Nothing.”

The man smiles a little, almost pityingly.

“Ok, suit yourself then,” he says. “I’ll try to do this in as few blows as possible, ok?”

He makes it almost sound merciful, but you can see the gleam in his smile behind the false sympathy. He raises the crowbar and it glints in the sunlight. You can feel your body begin to give up all around you. Muscles are going slack, the panic is leaving. Your body knows its long turmoil is nearing the end, and it’s almost welcoming it. You’ve been fighting so long. It’s time to surrender.

“And you’ll stay away from Ponyville,” you say, a final precaution.

“Cross my fucking heart.”

You don’t know how trustworthy that promise is, but it’s the best you can do right now. Not too bad as a last action. And this place isn’t bad either. There’s flowers growing, light wind blowing. The grass is soft and cool beneath you, and as you breathe in you can taste damp earth and the perfume of flowering trees. If you had to die anywhere, even if it’s in a way like this, there could be far worse places to be. You look around, savoring the colors and shapes of everything. This will be the last thing you see, you tell yourself. You memorize every detail, every sound and smell. Then you slowly ease your eyes shut, holding the captured image there in front of you.

“...Ok. Do it,” you say.

The words have barely left your mouth when you feel the crowbar hit you.

Your world flashes white then dark again and you hear the blow resound in your head. You don’t feel distinct pain, but you feel the crack arching through your skull from just above one ear to the top of your scalp. It feels wrong, out of place, your body screaming that something sin’t right inside you. You feel warm liquid on your face and recognize that it’s your own blood. You try to open your eyes and feel the lids lift but see nothing. Everything is spinning and empty, inside and out. Are you dead? Just dying? You try to breathe, but nothing seems to be working like it should. You hear, very far away, a man’s voice.

“Fuck, that was weak. It’ll have to be two, sorry.”

You hear a whoosh, feel a rush of air against the warm blood on your cheeks. All at once you can see again. Well, you don’t really see so much as a shape just appears in front of you in the darkness. It comes slowly into focus, just a pink blob at first, then with more defined lines. There's orange to it, green. An animal shape. Time feels sluggish and the whoosh from the crowbar fades into the back of your mind.

Clearly, crisply, a voice sounds in your head.

“Get. Up.”

You know that voice. You know that shape, that gold mane, those green eyes...

Marigold?

As if of their own accord, your bound hands snap up and wrap around the crowbar as it races down towards your head. Your vision starts to shift between the darkness inside your head and the red-streaked real world.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hear the man say.

“It’s going to hurt,” Marigold says inside your head. “Fight through it. Just fight it”

Her voice is trembling, like she’s near tears, but it’s so affectionate that it warms all the parts of you that had gone cold with your impending death. The man jerks back on the crowbar, trying to loose it from your grasp, but you don’t let go. There’s strength in your limbs again. It’s faint, but there and growing. You can’t even begin to fathom this strength’s source, but you draw off of it as best you can.

The man jerks at the crowbar again.

Without even thinking about it you throw your arms to one side with as much force as you can manage. Your lead rope pulls taught under his foot, then jerks his boot to the side. He stumbles back a step or two away from you, which gives you just enough time to roll away across the grass. The dark space behind your eyes whirls as you spin, and the real world blinks out with each rotation. As you stop, you prop your knees under you and hoist your body upwards. You’re going to stand and face him. You’re going to…

That’s when the pain happens.

Marigold’s voice had said to fight through it. She had told you it would hurt. You just hadn’t figured how much. Involuntarily you gasp out a gargled cry and almost sink back down onto the ground. A feeling like a thunderclap roles through your nerves, lighting each ending on fire. You nearly vomit as you realize you can feel the edges of bone sliding against each other somewhere along your skull. Your vision goes white, then red, then slowly fizzles back, with dark slowly inching towards the edges of your sight.

You can see the man has regained his balance too. He’s coming towards you now, and as your sight teeters on the brink of barely clear and total darkness you see him raise the crowbar. Somewhere in the corner of one eye, just out of your field of vision, you sense another presence.

“Duck...now!” cries Marigold’s voice.

You duck to one side and hear the rush of air as the crowbar glides past your head. You gasp again and grit your teeth tightly as another surge of pain courses through you. But you keep from passing out or falling down. Your legs tremble under you, barely supporting weight.
You’re not sure how much longer you can do this. Or why you’re doing this, to be honest. But Marigold’s voice urges you on, and you impulsively obey. Maybe...maybe you just want to live. Maybe you can’t stand the idea of giving up to this piece of shit who killed someone that loved you. Maybe you don’t want to risk leaving your heaven.

Whatever the reason, Marigold’s voice keeps you from lying down and dying. You try to steady your feet for the next attack.

“Step left!” cries Marigold.

You step left and see the blur of dark colors as the man brushes past you, grasping at your tied hands. Your knees buckle inwards, but you push yourself up off the ground as soon as your shin makes contact. If you go down, you don’t know if you’ll get back up.

“Hold STILL!” you hear the man shout. “I’ll kill them all if you don’t help me, I’ll kill every last thing in this miserable place!”

Something wet is dripping down your shirtfront. Blood? Sweat? You don’t know and you try not to think about it. You see the shape of the man spin to face you and the world starts to dissolve again. Partially blind you step backwards, feeling for rocks with your heels. Marigold’s apparition flits through your mind.

“Duck left, step back!”

You comply and you hear the man grunt with the force of another missed swing.

“Step back right! Again!”

Unsteady footstep by fumbling shuffle, Marigold guides you back away from the man, dodging his blows. Your head throbs, your bone fragments creak painfully against each other. Your muscles and limbs feel like toothpicks, ready to give way against your body weight at any second. But you keep stepping back. You can tell the man is getting more and more frustrated and he's beginning to pant.

“I’ll fucking kill you, motherfucker!” he’s screaming. “You little piece of shit, just die already!”

You can barely breathe. There’s a salty metallic taste filling your mouth now, stinging as it touches your already dry throat. Marigold’s voice speaks somehow even louder than the man’s.

“Fall back onto the ground when I say, then punch straight up with both hands,” Marigold instructs.

It’s an odd command, and you’r not sure how your body will take it, but you’re ready. You’re going to fall.

“...NOW!”

Holding a breath in your lungs you let your knees give way to gravity. You fall backwards to the ground, holding up your head from slamming into the dirt as best you can. For a second, the pain streaking through your scalp and limbs keeps you from remembering what comes next.

…up…UP! Punch up, idiot, punch up now!

With a cry from gritted teeth and parched, blood-stained lips, you force your hands upwards with what remains of your strength. They meet something soft and warm and continue up into it solidly.

You hear the man wheeze and feel him fall partially onto you, pinning you down. A short distance away you hear a clatter of metal hitting stone. You blink your eyes hard, trying to get them to stop seeing red and black, and start seeing what’s in front of you. The man on top of you is struggling, grabbing at you, and you want to be able to see his hands, his face, where you are, if there’s anything you can do to save yourself.

There’s an impact against your face, softer that the crowbar but still strikingly painful. His hand? His fist? You blink up and see him over you, hand cocked back. It hits you in the jaw, sending a ripple of force through your chin and cheeks to the split on your head. You blink through the blow and suddenly it’s Marigold lying over you, slapping you urgently across the face with her hoof.

“Stay with me!” she shouts. “We’re almost there, keep going!”

Then you blink again and the man is back, pulling his hand away for another blow. Your arms and legs feel far away, might as well be on different continents. There's no way they're of any use to you now. Still, you have your knees you moron, use them! You force one up between the man’s legs, just enough to cause him pain. He grunts again and falls away from you. You’re free of him. Just barely, but you are.

“Hurry!” Marigold whinnies in your ear.

Your eyes hit a sudden moment of clarity and your body reconnects to itself. You’re in the clearing, the man is beside you, and just on the other side of him...the crowbar! He hasn’t even tried to reach for it yet!

Despite your shrieking head, you clamor to your hands and knees over towards the man. You flop pathetically over his body, stretching with both hands for the crowbar. Even as your vision fades yet again, you feel your fingertips meet metal. You pull it into your palms, grip it tightly and turn, swinging one leg over the man so you’re straddling his chest with your knees. He struggles, reaching for your hands up through your mental fog, but you raise them high above you head and he stops.

You stop.

Everything stops.

In the still and darkness, you can hear the pounding of your own heart inside your head. You can feel the heave of the man’s chest underneath you and hear his defeated panting. You can even hear a dripping and feel a tingling on your chin that you’re now sure is your own blood draining our of you. Gradually, your eyes begin to focus. Color seeps back into your world, shapes gain lines and clarity.

The man is lying on his back, his arms on either side of his head, he’s staring up at you with wide and hateful eyes. His face is sweaty and you again notice the bloodstain on his side from Twilight’s horn. It’s begun to seep out fresh blood from your stomach blow earlier, and you suspect he may have a cracked rib or a punctured lung by the rattle in his breathing. He’s not fighting back anymore. He’s waiting.

With shock, you realize the position you’re in. You’re poised, ready to swing, ready to end this. With a few downward blows, this could all be over and things can begin to go back to the way they were. He knows it too. He’s waiting to see what you’ll do. You grip the crowbar more tightly, your arms throbbing with exertion. You’re sure you’re shaking, that the crowbar is shaking. You’ve got this. He’s in your grasp now.

Then, suddenly, the man begins to laugh. It’s soft at first, but you stare in bewilderment as the laugh intensifies, vibrating through your legs and aching knees.

“No,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re not going to do that.”

“Like hell,” you hiss out, noting that your jaw is unwilling to open now. It might be broken.

“You’re just like every other fucking thing here,” he chuckles. “You don’t have it in you to kill. You’re all about doing the right thing, protect and serve, like I fucking used to be. Isn’t that right, buddy? I'm helpless and surrendering, you’ve won. so you won't kill me. You’re not a murderer.”

You feel your arms begin to weaken. He’s right, you’re not a killer, you can’t do this. You can’t beat someone to death, someone unarmed, giving up. No. You just can’t do this, it isn’t you. You’re not like him, not all humans are like him. The crowbar begins to droop in your hands. Seeing your expression change, he laughs again.

“See, I fucking knew it,” he says. He smirks up at you. “Harmless, just like your little ponies.”

Then he smiles.

That smile. That fucking terrible smile.

It all hits you at once.

That smile as he stood over you and beat Marigold to death.

That smile as he showed Twilight to you, bloody and bound.

That smile as he told you he’d kill everything here, that he’d killed the bear by feigning kindness.

That smile as he’d marched you to your death and raised his killing blow.

He’d smiled all the while he’d hurt and killed those you cared about. And he’ll smile as he does it again.

He doesn’t deserve to smile anymore.

A dry, raging heat washes over you, strong, pungent, vibrating. It trembles up your arms to the crowbar which suddenly feels like liquid fire in your hands. Inertia drives you forward, ordering your muscles onward, the heat aiming for the man beneath you. Everything goes taught in your body and you see the man’s smile fade. You see yourself wash that fucking smile away.

Forever.

Before you can even think about what you’re doing, the crowbar flies.

You watch yourself swing at him, as if watching a completely different person. The blows, over and over, with every remaining bit of adrenalin and passion. You watch the man’s face begin to dissolve. First from a blood-stained horrified mask to a deepening crater, marked with jagged boulders of bone and cartilage. You watch yourself dodge a reaching, pleading hand and land another hit to the man’s head. You watch the hand fall away, twitching to the grass. You hear a high pitched roar somewhere and recognize it’s the distortion and crack of your own voice, howling in rage, pain, fear, emotions you can’t even name.

And you keep swinging as the man goes still.

You keep swinging as the blood stains the beautiful clearing.

You keep swinging as the world begins to darken on you once more.

You keep swinging, even after you can’t feel your body around you. Almost as a reflex.

Just as the world is about to flicker out, you see a violet shape on the other side of the clearing.

“Anon!” you hear, and it’s not Marigold’s voice this time.

Twilight...she’s come. She came to save you even though...

Your hands lose their determination and the crowbar slips to the ground. You feel the earth rise up to meet you as you slide sideways off the man’s much-damaged body. It’s ok to give up now, your body tells you. It’s like your limbs are sighing. You’re used up, but you managed to make it much farther than we thought. Good show, you should feel proud about that.

You do feel good. Everything feels good. You're done now and it's time to rest. Maybe forever. Everything is going limp, fading from you. The pain is fading. You’re fading away from you too.

Drifting.

Is there someone holding you? Maybe.

Everything just feels so light and far away now.

Farther away.

Farther.

Far.

Gone.

You’re standing alone, suspended out in the empty. You’re upright, not quite floating, in darkness. The pain is gone, every feeling is gone. Except...there’s something under your palm. It’s warm. Fur? You turn your head to find Marigold standing beside you, your hand resting gently on her shoulder. She’s smiling at you with tears in her emerald eyes.

“Well,” she murmurs just above a whisper. “You did it.”

“I did?”

She nods and sniffs back the moisture threatening to trickle down her cheeks.

“You bet. You kept at it, you kept fighting. Even when you were going to die, even when your body couldn’t take it anymore, you kept going. And you made it.”

“I couldn’t have without you,” you admit. “But where did I make it to?”

She just giggles a little, like she did back on that hillside under the stars what feels like eons ago.

“Lie down, you can rest now.”

You find yourself tipping back till your head is resting on one of her haunches. It’s warm there, soft, homey. Her hoof smoothes the hair back off your forehead in a cool and gentle caress. It feels so nice, and you smell that flowered perfume, so familiar now, you’re sure of it. It’s a smell that has flitted through your dreams, lingered in your memory, but you don’t know from where. She looks down at you lovingly.

“I’m so proud I know you,” she says. “I’m so happy I got to meet you before I died.”

“Are..are you going now?” you ask.

She pauses, then nods again.

“I’ve stayed as long as I could stay, did all I could do,” she sighs. “I’m just glad it was enough.”

“Where..where will you go?” you murmur.

You're so relaxed, like you could sleep and dream forever now.

“You had your heaven, I have mine,” she says. “I’ll be anything I want to be, anywhere I want to be now. I hope I’ve earned it.”

You feel so tired. Are you falling asleep? Your eyes won’t stay open, they’re just dying to close on you. Marigold’s face is becoming fuzzy, pulling away from you. You reach up for it and touch the cool soft curve of her face.

“And...where will I go?” you ask.

“Right where you’re supposed to.”

You feel her kiss your cheek, moist and crisp in your growing darkness. Your hand feels her cheek become wispy, then airy like mist. It seeps cooly through your reaching fingers.

“Anon, you lasted just long enough.”

“Am I dead?” you whisper to her.

You hear her light laugh, and it’s like you’re hearing someone else. Then, far off now, you hear her say one more thing.

“No, Anon, you’re alive.”

“Oh thank Celestia, you’re actually alive!”

You recognize Twilight’s voice through your haze of pain and dizziness. She sounds far away, but getting closer by the second. You can feel warmth on your face, in your chest, and you slowly become aware of wind against your skin and the sticky stiffness of blood, sweat, and mud caking your hands and legs. All at once, you can feel your eyelids again, and you push them open as best you can.

Twilight’s smiling, crying face looks down at you, traces of dark purple lining her cheeks and eyes. Her horn is glowing very faintly and you realize that it must be the source of the warmth coursing through your body.

Is she healing you?

“Twilight,” you try to murmur, but your jaw feels damn-near wired shut. It comes out like a gurgle.

It’s hard to tell if your jaw is still broken or not, but there’s a dull pain throbbing in most of your body. You try to raise an arm and manage to reach up to your chest before you lose what little strength you had. Your hand drops uselessly onto your stomach, and you feel Twilight’s hooves clasp it. She feels cool and nice, but her hooves are trembling.

“Don’t try to speak,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Please, stay still I…”

Her voice cracks and she stops, as if the words are reluctant to come out. You try to smile, but your muscles refuse to respond to you. Seeing you struggle, fresh tears spring to her eyes.

“I’m sorry Anon,” she says in a pleading whimper. “I’m trying, just stay with me, I promise I’m trying.”

You suddenly notice that the glow in her horn is getting weaker. You also notice the red in her cheeks, the dark purple of sweat on her brow along with the tear-lines. She looks exhausted. As your mind surfaces through the pain briefly, you piece it all together.

That glow is her magic. The same magic she healed you with in the woods before that took so much out of her. You’re more damaged now, and she’s been through so much that she can’t have much strength left. It could be that she can’t heal your wounds all the way, or even that she’s barely keeping you alive with her magic. She’s giving all she can to keep you conscious and alive, but if she stops you’ll start losing blood again. Maybe your skull fracture might slip and turn you into a vegetable.

What’s worse is that she knows this. She knows that she’s growing weaker. She knows that if she gives up you could die. She can’t go get help, she can’t keep holding on. She knows that she could be the cause of your death. That she can’t save you.

You want to reach up to her, comfort her, tell her it’s not her fault. You want her to know that you don’t blame her. Hell, you wish she’d never come here. You wish she’d never seen you like this. But above all else you want her to know you love her too, and you wouldn’t trade your time with her for the world. But you can’t say anything. You can only lie there on your back, looking into her glossy, panicked eyes as the light in her horn grows dimmer and dimmer. It’s like watching your own life force go out, and in a sense, that’s exactly what’s happening.

Twilight is crying openly now. Her tears splash onto your skin, feeling surprisingly hot and slick amidst the dirt and blood. She’s gritting her teeth hard, almost panting, and you can see the shaking has spread to her shoulders. You don’t have long now. You muster up whatever strength you have and squeeze her hoof. She presses into your palm in response.

“I’m so sorry Anon,” she says. “I can’t…”

A small shower of sparks leap from her horn, and the light ceases. The warmth in your body dies instantly, and you’re left feeling cold, prickly, and numb. That numbness is spreading fast too. And you feel…sleepy. Twilight gasps in a sharp breath and hunches over you, weeping and shaking.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobs over and over again. She looks up into your face with an expression of grief and regret. “I love you, I’m sorry.”

You force out a smile, as warm as you can make it, and you aren’t quite sure that you’re not crying right now too.

Let go Twilight. It’s ok. It’s safe for you now, no one will hurt you again. And I got to see you one more time, not a bad way to go. Don’t worry Twilight. It’s ok to let go.

A shadow passes over your quickly fading vision. You feel the colors and shapes of your surroundings slip away from you. This is it. This is what it feels like to die. Then you hear a voice you know only from speeches, from your one meeting months ago, and from the many imitations from Twilight you’ve listened to.

“Stand back Twilight Sparkle.”

You feel her hooves leave you and feel the cool shade of someone new standing between you and the sun.

“My dear Anon,” the voice says, sounding almost like an affectionate mother. “You’ve already died once. And for you, for what you’ve done, once is quite enough.”

Through the cottony numbness in your limbs, you feel the ground drop out from under you. You feel the stretch of your joints as you hang in space and color flickers in your eyes. Your chin raises, your head dropping back against one shoulder, and you realize that you’re now in a standing position.

Then the feeling comes.

It starts in your toes and spreads up the arches of your feet, the backs of your legs, your spine, your neck. A warmth, a liquid warmth that fizzes like soda and spreads along each vein of your body. You gasp in a breath of the fresh forest air, and you realize that it’s the first breath you’ve taken in almost a minute. As the air reaches your lungs, your eyes open.

A shimmering orb of light surrounds your body, spinning over you like it’s stitching you back together. The ground stretches out, probably ten feet below you, the grass rippling like a strong wind is blowing over it. It’s like looking through a veil of golden light, but you can still make out the shapes standing beyond you.

Twilight stands staring up at you, dark purple lines arching through her fur where tears once were. Rather than sadness, her face now holds a gaze of wonder. There’s even a hint of a smile on her lips. Beside her stands a tall white figure. Colors undulate from her neck to form a flowing mane, and a gleam of gold rests between her ears. Light arcs out of her horn to surround you, and she looks on at her work with a pleased and satisfied eye.

Princess Celestia in the flesh. And she’s healing you.

You start to hover towards the ground, and as your feet touch the earth, you feel everything again. No pain, no aches, but sensation is entirely back in your limbs. The golden bubble bursts away from you in a silent and glittering explosion. You try to take a step but stumble and nearly fall. Your legs feel brand new, like you’ve never used them before. You reach out to steady yourself, and your hands find purple fur. You look up into Twilight’s face as she catches you to see tears budding anew there. With a sort of amazed laugh, you reach up to her face to wipe the tears away.

“I’m ok…” you murmur to her. “Everything’s ok now.”

“I know,” she whispers back.

She raises her chin towards you and you close your eyes as you lean in for a well-deserved kiss.

There’s a gentle cough from beside you, and the two of you jump. Hell, you’d almost forgotten you weren’t alone there. Celestia looks at the two of you with amusement, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, I can see that a new human in our midst is not the only thing I haven’t heard about,” she says suggestively.

Twilight shrinks under her gaze and blushes all the way up to her ears.

“Princess, you say weakly, shaking your head. There’s almost no words you can find that express the gratitude you feel right now. “I…”

“Anon, I have heard much of your deeds,” she says with a warm smile. “Twilight sent me a letter detailing the events and calling for my aid just hours ago. I came as quickly as I could.”

“You got here just in time,” Twilight says. “I couldn’t have held on any longer, it was almost…”

Her voice is shaking and you rest a hand on her shoulder and squeeze tightly in comfort.

“You did as well as could be expected under the circumstances, my faithful student,” Celestia says. “You shouldn’t feel bad about your performance. Of course, we’ll practice more healing spells later, won’t we?”

“O-of course, princess.”

“And now there is something I must discuss with you, Anon,” she says, tone sounding a little graver.

It sounds like she wants to speak with you alone, but you give her a mild shake of your head.

“Anything you want to say to me, Twilight can hear too.”

Twilight leans gently against your hand, supporting you now.

“Very well,” the princess says with a sigh. “I assume you now know what this place, Equestria, is to you?”

You nod.

“And what this place was to him?”

You pause, but then nod again. The princess turns away from you partially and begins pacing slowly.

“When you first came here, I was surprised. That this place could be a person’s heaven…But I was more surprised to hear that another was here as well. I knew it was possible, but I didn’t think two humans would show up so close to one another.”

She stops and fixes you with a rather stern look.

“Would you say others would find this place heavenly?”

“I think so, yes.”

“And that others would find this place…”

“Yes, I suppose that too.”

She sighs again and shakes her head.

“I was not prepared for this,” she says. “Because I did not have procedures in place, plans of action, the two of you had to deal with this situation on your own. Ponies died, and you Anon…”

She pauses, and you can see that there’s a twinge of pain in her face. She looks away from you, and you see the bloody corpse of the other man on the ground. The stained crowbar rests beside it. Celestia looks away from it all in disgust.

“You were forced to commit a terrible act,” she says tautly. “In all my many years, I have never seen anything kill so ruthlessly, so needlessly as that man. And his evil got into you. Because of him, you had evil in you when you struck him down.”

You feel a tenseness in your chest and throat. Somehow, she knows about that moment when he lay helpless beneath you, when you snapped and wanted nothing more than to see pieces of him littering the earth in all directions. You’re not sure how, but she knows that you committed a murder. You know that can’t be good.

“Princess Celestia,” you say earnestly, approaching the white creature. “I know what I did was…wrong. In a way. But If I hadn’t done it, if I-“

“Anon, I blame myself to some degree,” she says, not letting you finish. “If I had dealt with this myself or gotten here sooner, you would not have done this. What you did was a terrible thing, and no justification can change that, but it was necessary given all that happened. And…”

She pauses uncomfortably and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, the warmth is back. She looks down at you with that same motherly affection.

“I do forgive you,” she says softly. “And I ask your forgiveness as well.”

“Princess…” Twilight says breathlessly.

You realize that she probably hasn’t seen her idol being so humble before. You smile back at the princess, feeling a flicker of pride.

“Of course. You kinda saved my life anyway. I’d say that makes us even?”

“Not quite,” she says wistfully. “I owe you a debt of gratitude for protecting my students and my land…but I also have a dilemma.”

That sounds pretty serious. You swallow hard before speaking.

“What is it?”

“You see, if both of you humans came here as you did, it is likely to happen again,” she admits. “Not often, but it may still happen.”

You can see how that could be a serious problem.

“You can’t stop it?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I cannot. And I cannot predict when it may happen. Or,” she pauses uncomfortably. “Whether they will be good like you or evil like him.”

She nods towards the dead body, then quickly looks away from it again.

“So all we can do is wait?” Twilight asks.

“Yes,” Celestia says. “But this time we can plan, and make certain we’re ready for all this. The problem is that I need someone to watch and wait for me, someone who knows what to look for and how to deal with it accordingly.”

You hear her request before she even makes it, and somehow it suits you. You feel a wry grim spread over your face.

“Princess,” you say calmly. “You can’t expect a pony to deal with evil humans. You can’t expect them to kill if need be. It’s not fair, and it’s not reasonable.”

“You’re right, Anon, I cannot. Nor can I spare my royal guard to constantly survey this area, though they can offer some aid here and there.”

Twilight looks from the princess to you, then back again. It dawns on her, and a look of concern seeps into her face. Any blush that was there leaves nearly instantly.

“Princess, you can’t ask him to-“

“Twilight, I’m volunteering,” you say quietly. “You all have watched over me for so long, and now I can watch over you. I haven’t had a place in this world beyond odd jobs and making friends. This is a purpose for me. To protect you from those who find this place hell, and help those who find this place heaven.”

There’s a brief silence as you all absorb the weight of your words. Then, Celestia clears her throat.

“May we have more like you,” she says earnestly.

She walks to you then, and you can feel warmth radiating from her body, like the light of the sun.

“So be it," she says officially. "This is a great imposition I make on you, Anon. You have already protected us once. And there is still that gratitude I owe you. Is there anything in my power or kingdom I can offer you to help in your new duties?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. It's quite the offer, a princess with seemingly infinite power and resources, but there's only one thing that comes to mind.

“All I want,” you say, looking down lovingly at Twilight. “Is to be able to go home and be with my friends again.”

It hits you that this is the first time you’ve called Ponyville home, and it feels good to you. It feels right. And both the ponies seem to know what you mean by that. Twilight smiles tearfully.

“You have certainly earned it,” she says with a nod. “But if there is ever a time you need me or need something, I will always answer your call.”

“Thank you Princess,” you say, and mean it.

“Now, we can work out the details of your new position later,” she says with a knowing grin. “I believe someone wanted to speak with you alone?”

You grin sheepishly back and Twilight again blushes beside you. Celestia offers you a wink then walks to the edge of the clearing. She spreads her massive white wings and springs into the air as gracefully as any swan. Before you can take a breath, she’s nearly out of sight. You turn back to Twilight and she looks up into your face with wide liquid eyes.

“I don’t want you to risk getting hurt again,” she says. “This life for you could be dangerous.”

“Twilight,” you murmur as you slip a hand around the back of her head. “I love you. What we have, even as fast as this happened works. It feels natural. As long as I have you to come home too, it’ll still be heaven to me.”

She nearly leaps into your arms as your lips meet. You breathe her in as she laces her hooves around your neck and holds you close. You survived all this together, experienced something that you’ll never have with anyone else. Even through all the horror, you’re bonded now in this. You shared this. And even after what you’ve done, in all your life, you can’t remember being as happy as you are at this exact moment. You can't remember one time in your life where everything felt so beautifully clicked into place. In fact, this doesn't feel like your life before at all. You're new. Reborn.

Your life is just beginning.

Author's Note

Well, you did it. You made it through. Thanks for sticking with me, thanks for giving this crazy story a chance, and I do hope you enjoyed the ride. Sincerely. There's an epilogue, though short, after this. I'll give you a more proper send-off then.

Thanks you.

-Pencil

Chapter 11: Epilogue

You often come back to that place where you buried the other man. The uncomfortable mound of earth sullies that beautiful clearing, but it also reminds you of something important. This is where you came to this world, this is where your new purpose began.

You died there. And you were born there.

No other humans have shown up yet, but each day you patrol the woods in search of any newcomers. You start at that clearing each time, then rove through the places you’ve been before, looking for signs of humanity. You occasionally even pass that great mountain of rock where you and Twilight consummated your love. You touch the rock there and know it saw the start of a relationship that has never since faltered in its affection, trust, and strength. You pass the clearing where she nursed you back to health, swathed in leaves. You even pass the cave, now inhabited by several of Fluttershy’s animal friends.

Every night when you come home from your patrol, Twilight greets you with a kiss. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. She calls you her soldier. And you’re ok with that too.

Twilight has made a holster for the crowbar, and you carry it with you everywhere now as an insurance weapon. It was a strange thing at first, a little creepy even, knowing that it killed your friend and nearly killed you. And that it was your accomplice in murder. But it is also the only weapon that was used to kill in this world, and you want to keep this place as clean as you can. Should you need to kill again, the crowbar has known blood before and won’t exactly be corrupted by more. The less you can sully with human blood, the better this world will be.

But you hope that won’t happen.

You hope that when they come, they’ll love this place and the ponies in it. You hope they’ll open their eyes onto a beautiful new heaven that is everything they’ve wished for. You hope that you won’t have to fight off the evils of a world you left behind. But if you have to, you will. Come what may, you are prepared to defend your home, your love, your heaven.

No matter who they are, when they come, you’ll be ready.

-The End-

Author's Note

And that's the story.

I learned a lot in writing this. I'd never posted chapters bit by bit before, only posing full stories that I'd already completed. It taught me how easy it is to write yourself into a corner, and I like to think I won't make that same mistake again.
It taught me how hard it is to write violence in ponies without it being straight up comedy.
It taught me how surprisingly picky pony readers are, though that's not a bad thing.
And most of all, it taught me that even writing serious things can be fun.

So...I hope you enjoyed this. I will be posting the alternate ending, so if you want something a little different, you'll get it there. But I sincerely hope you enjoyed taking this little literary journey, and that you find yourself smiling rather than groaning by the end.
Above all, thank you. I wrote this for my own enjoyment mostly, but you reading it is kinda awesome. And I'm glad you did. So once more, thank you, and I'll see you in some other much less serious story.
And feel free to pull up a drink with me some time. I bet you're a bretty cool dude.

-Pencil

BONUS: Alternate Ending!

-This new ending begins as Anon wakes up from Marigold’s farewell in dream-

Your eyes open slowly, the lids aching, to see Twilight’s tear stained face smiling down at you. She’s holding one of your hands against her chest and you can feel the rapid thumps of her racing heart. She looks so weary, terrified. But you know she doesn’t have to be anymore, you’ve ended this. You press your palm closer against her collarbone and smile warmly.

Wait, smile? Your jaw...it doesn’t hurt anymore! When you try to speak, Twilight holds a hoof to your lips to silence you.

“We saw everything when we came into the clearing,” she says softly, tears still lingering in her eyes. “That man, you...were hitting him. You collapsed. We were able to heal you some but we still weren’t sure you would...if you...oh Anon.”

She drops her head down against your chest, her body shivering with small sobs of relief. You tenderly stroke her mane, loving the soft silkiness of it under your finger and the warm mass against your chest. Even her tears seeping through your very ruined shirt feel soothing. Otherwise, you feel dizzy and weak, that’s for sure, but that rolling storm of pain from before is almost just a memory now.

“How?” you ask her, moving your mouth careful just in case you were wrong about your jaw.

She raises her head, looking considerably comforted by the sound of you speaking again.

“I did a little of it, healing you I mean, but most of it was...”

Twilight trails off and turns her gaze slowly away from you. You follow her look to a large, shimmering white form standing at your other side. Massive wings block out the sunlight to shade your bloody face. Gleams of gold shine out bright all over, and a cascade of shimmering colors streams down towards you.

God? An angel?

No, you know this shape. You know who this is.

Celestial lowers her wings a little so that the light reaches her face better. You see now that she too is smiling at you, in that gentle mothering way you’ve seen her stare at Twilight sometimes. There’s sadness in her dark-lashed eyes, pity that you can't guess the cause of. She's elegant, though. Just her way of standing there looking at you, you can just feel that she’s royalty. You’ve only met her once or twice, but you recognize that she’s the authority figure around here, and that her healing you must be a great honor.

“She was already in Ponyville when I arrived,” Twilight says. “Spike had called her when I’d gone missing and she was just setting up to do a massive searching spell when I came running in. I told her what happened, like toy wanted me to, and she said she knew where you were. We came here and...you were here. With him. She healed you, much better than I could have done alone. I’m not...I’m not sure you would have survived without her.”

You raise your head just enough to give Celestia a nod in lieu of a bow before lowering it back onto the grass. You’re more tired than you though.

“Your Majesty, thank you,” you murmur. “Thank you for saving my life.”

She gives you a little bow of her arching pale neck in return.

“I owe you a debt of thanks too Anon, for saving my star pupil,” she says. “But there’s…something important I must attend to now. Do you feel well enough to stand? I have enough magic to heal you further if you wish.”

“You had several broken bones in your hand,” Twilight says in a rush. “Your jaw was fractured in three places and you had a skull fracture spanning at least three inches in-why are you smiling?”

You’d forgotten how she switched to scientist-mode whenever she was feeling a little scared. It had annoyed you once but now, after all this, it’s downright endearing and you are just so happy to be hearing her ramble on again. How much had you changed in such short a time?

“Come now Twilight Sparkle, let Anon answer,” Celestia urges.

You try to sit up a little bit, but your limbs still feel far away from the rest of your body and it’s difficult to stay upright very long under your own power.

“M-maybe I could use a little more help?” you admit.

Celestia nods and lowers her horn over you. Golden light showers your body and you feel yourself rise from the ground. You slowly rotate in the air till you’re hovering, your feet dangling free. You let your head fall back, eyes closed, bathed in a tingly, warm sensation that courses through every one of your systems in some unique way. You sigh, and as you breathe out, it’s like all the remaining pain and tension goes with it. Twilight’s magic never felt like this. You feel the sensation dissipating as you come down towards the earth again. The glow vanishes as you touch down and you open your eyes.

“Better?” Celestia asks.

You nod. You mean it too, you feel no trace of your injuries or even any fatigue anymore. You're better than you have been in days, maybe weeks!

“Good. Then Anon, would you please kneel? I have a matter I must address, and this is customary.”

You blink dumbly at her, then glance to Twilight for confirmation. She nods her approval, grinning proudly. Are you being knighted? Honored in some other special way? Slowly, you sink to one knee and lower your head in reverence.

“Anon,” she says in a loud, official sounding voice. “As leader of this realm and given what I have just witnessed,…”

She pauses, like there’s a catch in her throat or like she doesn’t want to continue speaking. You think maybe she’s just getting choked up. But no…that’s not it. She’s reluctant, uncomfortable even. You didn’t know the process could even be uncomfortable. She says the next part very haltingly, like the words themselves are painful in her mouth.

“I find you have broken a rule of this land by committing the crime of…murder. I have no choice now but to…exile you from this world.”

Your head snaps up and you feel color drain from your cheeks.

Murder? Exiled? Oh god, what is she saying…

"Your majesty," you say a little uncertainly. "Maybe there's some mistake, I-"

"I'm sorry," she says, and you can hear that she means it. "I truly am sorry Anon. But you have sullied this place with your act of merciless violence, just as that other man had done. It is a crime, though to be perfectly hones, an understandable one given the circumstances. Still, you cannot call this place home as long as you carry that evil deed within you, as long as you are a murderer.”

You hear Twilight cry out with anger and pain from behind you, and in a flash she dashes between you and Celestia.

“Princess, what are you talking about?” she shouts, sounding both confused and infuriated. “Anon was just defending himself, defending all of us! He'a not evil or a murderer! He-"

Celestia slowly shakes her head, sadness now the prevailing expression on her face. She looks at Twilight and speaks gently, her voice tinged with regret but firm. A teacher giving her pupil one more lesson.

“I’m sorry to you as well my student, but this place has known evil now. And Anon may not have brought it here, but he gave it strength. It has known death, blood, pain, loss. Anon created more of it just moments ago. While one of the causes is gone,” she glances uncomfortably to a dirt mound a few yards off that you can only assume is the buried man, then back at Twilight. “The other stands behind you now. All of it must go from this land, even though it pains me to do so. I wish this was not the way but-”

"Then make it a different way!”

Celestia sighs.

“Life doesn't work like that. The rules are very clear, and I must protect my realm. This is my only recourse to fully do so.”

“That’s not fair!” Twilight shouts. “He isn’t evil, he isn’t bad! He’s done nothing but try to help all of us and now you’re punishing him for it!”

“Twilight...”

“I won’t let you touch him! I won’t let you send him away, your ruling is…is wrong! He’s not a muderer!”

You’re struck by the sheer magnitude of what Twilight is saying. She’s standing up to her princess, her mentor, perhaps even some form of god, all for your sake. She’s challenging royal and divine rule for you, and asking for rules to be broken. Her. Wanting to break the rules. Before today, you doubt she would have even raised her voice in Celestia's presence. She’s done so much for you in your time here.

"You did this before too! Anyone who upsets you has to go away," Twilight continues to shout. "You banished Luna, and she wasn't evil, was she? You're anything but fair, you just want things to go your way and if they don't-"

“Twilight Sparkle, be still and listen!” Celestia says firmly. You can see that she's hurt by Twilight's words, but is doing her best to retain her royal demeanor. “There is yet more I have to say.”

Twilight opens her mouth to say something else, but now it is your turn to silence her. You don't want to go, and you don't think this is right any more than she does, but Celestia deserves to have her say on things. It’s her right, isn’t it? You rest a hand on Twilight's back and she turns to face you with a jump, like she had forgotten you were there. You shake your head and she closes her mouth. Fresh tears have sprung to life in the corners of her eyes, and one trickles downwards as she turns back towards her teacher.

Celestia now looks to you, her expression apologetic.

“Anon, I still do owe you a debt of gratitude though. You now know what this place is to you?”

You hesitate, then nod.

“Yes. This is my heaven.”

“It is,” Celestia says. “And you earned it in life. I feel now that your actions, though fueled by hatred, were for a good cause. I am reluctant to punish that, even if I must abide by these rules. You didn’t so much abuse this gift of heaven as just forget yourself for a moment. Rather than cast you into some other place or close off your thoughts into oblivion, I would rather give you a chance to pay for what you have done. A way to pay your debts, if you are willing.”

“What must I do?” you ask without hesitation.

You’ll do anything to stay here. You’re not sorry you killed that man, lord knows it felt good to finally do it. But you love Twilight and you love Equestria. You’ll do whatever she asks of you. She seems reluctant to speak, but at last she nods and continues.

“Anon, I will exile you back to your world and time, back to your old life.”

Twilight gasps again, but Celestia goes on before she can interrupt.

“You will finish out your normal existence there, you will remember this place, and if you prove yourself worthy yet again you may return here. You must re-earn this heaven, but it will not remain gone to you forever.”

She averts her eyes from you and you see an expression there you didn't know princesses could have. Shame? Guilt? Twilight ignores this and approaches her again, stance like one ready for battle.

“That's not enough! How do you know that ten years form now, fifty years from now, this place will still be all he wants in an afterlife?” Twilight demands, her tears audible in her voice. “He’ll suffer there in his world, the world could change him he-"

“I’ll do it.”

You hardly recognize your own voice. Twilight and Celestia turn to you, Celestia with a look of pity, Twilight with a look of horror.

“What?” she demands.

You stand up and raise your chin, trying to look as professional and dignified as you can.

“I’ll do it,” you say, more confidently this time. “You’re right, I did kill that man, and I’m not sorry for it. But I understand, this is not a place for hatred and violence. My being here means that the violence will still be here, would still exist in me. Maybe...maybe through a human lifetime I can let that hatred go. Then I can come back without causing further harm to this place.”

“Anon, no.” Twilight whispers.

"There are rules, Twilight," you say gently without looking at her. "You, better than anyone, know that rules have to be followed. For the sake of Equestria, and for you.”

She turns her face away, gritting her teeth, and dashes away to another corner of the clearing. You feel a sharp tug in your chest, knowing how much this will hurt her. But you also somehow know this is for the best.

“So be it,” Celestia says with a nod. “I will send you back to the moment you died, none of your time will be lost.”

You glance back over your shoulder to where Twilight is sitting alone.

“May I say goodbye to everyone first?” you ask.

Celestia pauses, then shakes her head sadly again.

“I am sorry Anon, but this must be done right away.” She pauses. “You may have a few minutes with Twilight Sparkle. I sense that you two have grown very close over the past few days’ events, and this will be hardest on her.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, giving her a little bow.

She stares at you with admiration in her eyes along with the pity and sadness of earlier.

"You are noble, Anon," she says quietly. "And you do not deserve such a harsh punishment."

She bows back and then steps way towards the tree line to give the two of you some shred of privacy. You turn your full attention to Twilight, knowing that this may be the last time you see her in a very long while. You approach her, and she stands and turns as she hears you. She's smiling a crooked smile, the kind you smile you give when you're hanging onto a hope you know is not really there. She shakes her head at you, tears now cascading freely down her cheeks.

“I won’t let you,” she says. “You already ran away from me once to save me, I won’t let you do it again.”

“Twilight.”

“There has to be another solution, something else we can do, this isn’t right!”

“Twilight.”

“I-I’ll start hating things too, I’ll get the others and we’ll use the elements of harmony. We’ll tell Celestia that we-"

“Twilight, stop.”

“No,” she says, voice unstable and rambling. “Because I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I’m not going to let you slip away from me, not after we fought so hard, not after we...we...”

Without another word, you kneel and pull Twilight to you. She wraps her front legs around your neck, holding you tightly, and presses her muzzle into your shoulder. You can hear heartbreaking sobs emanating from her and feel her trembling all over. You hold her tightly, cradling the back of her head with one of your palms.

“It’ll be ok,” you say, and you can hear a tremble in your own voice as well. “I’ll be back. How could I not be back? I have you to come home to, that’s worth living a good life. It's only a little while that we'll be apart, it's hardly the end of the world.”

“But what if-"

“There’s no what ifs,” you tell her. “I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

She pulls back from you just enough to look into your face. She studies your eyes, your wry smile, your honest expression. You can see she wants to believe you, but ever the skeptic, she wants proof.

“But you could fall in love with someone else.”

“In a full lifetime? I probably will. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop loving you or forget about you. I’ll still want to be with you here.”

“How can you know that. I understand, you deserve love, but how can you know you’ll still…want me.”

“I just do.”

“But Anon…”

“I promise,” you say again.

She raises her head and your lips meet. You press a hand to her cheek and kiss her back deeply, trying to show her just how honest your promise is. You close your eyes and again memorize every scent, every taste, every sensation, as the last you will have in this world. At least for a while.

It feels like your kiss goes on forever, but when you break away it still seems too soon. You stand and silently step back from Twilight. She steps away too, still shaking with occasional sobs.

“You...you’ll tell the others goodbye for me? And thank them for everything?” you ask.

She nods.

“We’ll all miss you,” she says. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, but it's only bye for now. I'll be here again before you know it.”

Celestia approaches you and Twilight turns away, unable to look at you any longer. You can see the pain in her face and tell yourself to remember that kiss as a memory of Twilight to hold onto. Not that pain you're causing her now.

“Ready?” Celestia asks you.

“Yes,” you say. Then, a thought occurs to you. “Your majesty?”

“Yes Anon?”

You try to find the right words to ask what’s troubling you.

“This...this place was my heaven.”

“That’s correct.”

“And it was also his hell.”

“That’s correct too.”

You pause again, still thinking it through.

“Others can come here, can’t they?” you say at last. “Other people who believe this could be their perfect world. Other people who find this place absolute hell.”

“Yes, though it is unlikely and will be a very rare occurrence. Maybe once every millennia.”

“What will happen,” you ask. “When others show up? What if more people arrive that want to destroy this land, fill it with more hatred, evil?”

“My dear Anon,” Celestia says with a smile, touched by your concern. “We have now seen what exists in the very worst of men...and what exists in the very best of them too.”

You feel yourself blush involuntarily at the implied compliment.

“With what we have learned, I think we are ready now. Others will come eventually, thought scarce few. They will bring with them so many things, both good and bad. But after this, we now know how to proceed with them.” She nods. “Because of you, Anon, when they come, we’ll be ready.”

You let out a sigh, surprised by how comforting her words are. Then you force out another smile, for her benefit and for your own.

“I’m ready,” you say. “And I’ll be back soon enough.”

"Thank you for all you have done, Anon," she says. "I look forward to your return."

Celestia lowers her head and her horn begins to glow. Golden light again surrounds you, and you rise from the ground. You begin to tingle all over and rotate very slowly. You feel lighter than air, like you’re separating into a fine mist in the most glorious of ways. It’s not painful or uncomfortable, just a gentle, slow, pulling apart of all your molecules. It’s almost like a release.
Twilight has turned to watch again, crying unabashedly now. She looks up at you with shimmering wet eyes.

“I love you Anon!” she calls. “I love you!”

She calls it over and over again, the words fighting through Celestia’s golden magic and mixing with every bit of your form. You feel her love streaming through your veins like blood. Looking up into the crisp blue sky, you close your eyes and take in one more breath of fresh Equestrian air for your journey. You spread your arms and legs wide, separating even your fingers and toes as you spin. It’s like flying, a gentle flight up into the sky and beyond.

You feel yourself coming undone and suddenly the world slips away. As you breathe out that last breath of air, the rest of you comes out with it, as does all of Equestria. You blend, separate, and dissipate.

Your heaven is gone, and so are you.

The next breath you take in is air that you have not tasted into a very great while. But its taste is still familiar somehow. Like a flowered perfume that has haunted you for far too long…

-Epilogue-

In a ditch by the hiking trail, under the beating afternoon sun, you begin to regain consciousness. You breathe sharply in this stale air of earth. It tastes like grime, like dust, like unpleasant things that you forgot existed. But there’s something else lingering there too. A taste of flowers, sweet sugar, perfume.

You know that smell. You’ve smelled it so many times before. Whenever you began to lose grip on reality, whenever you began to slip away, you smelled that. It was a comfort to you when you needed it. But never till now did you truly recognize just how familiar it was. You have known this smell for years, you have lived with it, grown up with it.

How do you know this smell?

You strain to open your eyes, to see this life you’d left behind once more. Although you can't see yet, you're beginning to recognize this place and remember what event you just plopped back into. You're up in the hills on a hiking trail. There's a ditch by the trail, a small ravine, and you'd just fallen head first into it. The fall had killed you, of course, but now you're back. Your head does hurt a little, but you've known real pain now and this is nothing by comparison. Right now, you're lying on your back with your head propped up on something soft and...someone is touching your head with some cloth. You're probably bleeding, considering the fall and-

Someone is touching your head? Someone...

And then you remember who you were jogging with.

It's Miranda.

She's that girl you'd lusted after for so many years, grown up with, fooled around just that once at a party. The girl who had spurned your advances with the "let's just be friends" line. It all somehow hurts less now that you've fallen for Twilight, and you're also suddenly overjoyed to see her again. You can't help but smile.

"I can see you're felling better," you hear her say with a giggle.

Her voice is twofold familiar. It's both Miranda's and...someone else’s.

Your eyes at last begin to open, and the sun nearly blinds you with how bright and harsh it is. You raise a hand to shade your eyes as the human world comes into focus all around you.
Sitting over you is a silhouetted female frame. Her red-blond hair is accented by one neon pink streak that has pulled free of the messy bun she usually wears for jogging. Her freckles are darker in the sunlight but still only barely show across the bridge of her nose. Her skin is far too light to be out in this bright sun, and her shoulders are beginning to get a little pink as she sits there caring for you. Her green eyes...

Her eyes.

Those eyes.

You gasp in surprise as everything begins to fit into place. Those were the eyes that watched over you as you lay injured in the glen. Those were the eyes that held such affection as you sidestepped blow after blow from that cop. Full of laughter, innocence, affection, and now amusement as she watches you figure out who she is.

"Miranda?" you ask, and she nods.

“..and?”

"...Marigold?"

Her smile broadens and she nods slowly.

"Yes."

Her perfume, that perfume you smelled on her all her life, is the same wafting scent from Marigold's mane. Even her expressions are the same, you now realize. You stare up at her, dumbfounded.

"So you're back then?" she murmurs. "You've been to Equestria, saved everyone, and come back?"

"Oh...yeah," you say, still trying to wrap your head around things. "And you're..."

“Magic Marigold, in the flesh, though it's Miranda now. I was glad they let me stick with an M name."

You continue to stare up at her in shock and silence, and seeing your expression she continues so that you have time to let it all sink in.

"You know, my cutie mark used to be flowers, a magic wand, and a top hat. I was always awesome at slight of hand," she says, grinning. Then she takes an index finger, loops it trough the air once, and rests it on the tip of her nose. "Presto chango! I am now a human! I really should get that mark as a tattoo somewhere, don’t you think.”

She chuckles nervously at her own joke, and you can suddenly see how agitated she is. Miranda always makes jokes when she’s uncomfortable…and come to think of it, Marigold probably did too.

"H-how?" you stutter.

She giggles again, and you're shocked you didn't notice before how similar their laughs were, how similar they both were.

"Well I had earned my heaven," she says. "And I had a choice of anything I wanted."

She blushes, the cutest damn blush you think you've ever seen, and glances away from you shyly.

"I told you once that I wished things had been different. I wished I could have known you before, been the same age as you, been able to grow up with you. And, well, there was one way to do that."

"So...so you've known. All this time?"

She rolls her eyes and let's out a sigh.

"You have absolutely no idea how hard it was not to spill the secret a few times," she says. “But as much as I loved you as you were, you weren't MY Anon yet. You hadn't met me, hadn't seen Equestria. So I wanted to wait for you to get there too before I told you or got too close to you."

"Is...is that why-"

"The party, yeah," she nods, looking even more embarrassed. "And I thought cider had a kick to it! Earth alcohol is far more powerful, that's for sure."

You shake your head and look up into her smiling green eyes.

"But here?" you ask. "Earth? This is your heaven?"

She hesitates, then shakes her head sheepishly.

"No, being able to know you, your world, share this life with you...that's my heaven."

You reach up and clasp her cheek in a gentle caress.

"You saved my life," you say, still feeling shock but now gratitude and awe as well. “More than once I think. What can I do to repay you? You're a god damned guardian angel, you know that?"

She shrugs and looks down.

"I did what I had to."

Then, hesitantly, she puts a hand up and holds your in place for a moment. Her face loses its smile and she gazes into your eyes affectionately and a little sadly.

"Look," she says. "I know you and Twilight are...you know...involved? And I'm not trying to mess with that. You fell for me out of puppy love back before you went to Equestria, I get it. Coming back, you've known the real deal, and I get that too. But I do want you to know that I'll be here for you in this world, till you earn your heaven back. I’ll help. And…I want you to know..."

She fidgets uncomfortably under your head and you prop yourself up on one elbow to look at her better. She seems shy again, and her blush has deepened. You find yourself grinning despite yourself. You know what she's going to say now. You've been waiting to hear her say it since you were twelve years old.

"I...I love you Anon. I did before and I still do."

You smile warmly at her, and through her freckles, pale skin, pink-tinged hair, you see a small pink pony sitting on a hillside and naming the constellations with you. Through Miranda, you see Marigold.

Very slowly, you slip your arms around her neck and pull her into a tight hug. Her smell whirls around you dizzyingly as she draws her arms around you too and squeezes back. You pull your head back just enough that you can press your mouth against hers, and you give her a light, simple, pecked kiss that she returns with one of her own.

"You have Twilight waiting for you," Miranda says, more a fact than an actual protest.

You kiss her again and your lips linger over hers a little longer this time. Then you move so your mouth is right next to her ear, and you feel her breathe in a little gasp of surprise and happiness.

"This is your heaven," you whisper. "And I have a whole lifetime to live in it before I go back. Twilight knows I’ll love others, we’ll wait for each other. But you need company. We both do.”

She's the one to kiss you now, deeply, forcefully, and you can feel all her years of patiently waiting for you to turn into the Anon she knew in Equestria. She breaks away, now grinning her usual cocky grin and stands up. She gives you a hand and pulls you to your feet, and you're sure the dizziness in your head is from her rather than your fall. She nods back towards the trail.

"Feel up to running?"

You shrug. It's been a while since you've run, you suppose. Well, at least in this world.

"Sure, why not?"

"Good, because we haven't finished that race yet!"

With a cackle she speeds off towards the trail in quick loping strides over the stones and grass. You find yourself grinning to as you clumsily sprint after her.

Equestria is behind you now, but in front of you too. You'll have to work to get back, and you are already missing Twilight and know she'll be the perfect motivator. After all, you have a promise to keep. Still, as you run across the grass behind Miranda, watching her hair bob with each step, you can't help the feeling that this won't be so bad.

It may not be your heaven, but it is someone's heaven, Marigold's heaven. And it's up to you to show her how heavenly it can truly be.

-The End-

Author's Note

At last, my friends, we come to the end.

This alternate ending may seem a bit of a shock, may even make you a little angry. But please keep in mind that this isn't actually completely out of the blue. even though this wasn't the ending I went with, it was still one I left a trail of breadcrumbs too. I may also have a soft spot for Marigold, so I had to give her a happy ending too.

I made a lot of mistakes in writing this whole thing, and I could write a very long note telling you each and every one (and how not to make these mistakes yourself.) But I think nearly 50K words is a bit of an accomplishment, so I'm at least content in that.

By the way, the cop's name is Mitch. Yes. I know I never wrote that anywhere, so figured I'd say that now. Why not, right?

Anyway, it is my birthday as I write this, and I can think of no better way or time to send off this story. Here's to me never having to work on it again, and here's to you who read it all with me.
Cheers.

Thanks for sticking with it, and I'll see you soon in something less serious.

-Pencil :heart: