What the fuck happened?
One minute, I'm walking home to my apartment in Midtown, New York, and the next thing I know, I'm smack-dab in the middle of fucking nowhere, with nothing but the clothes on my back, my wallet, and my bag with my laptop in it.
I looked around, and all I could see were trees for as far as the eye could see. I looked down at myself to check myself for injuries, only to find none. I checked my pockets and my bag to see if any of my possessions disappeared, only to find that everything was still in my pockets or in my bag.
Okay, so I'm not hurt, and all of my stuff is still here, so there's only one question left to ask:
WHERE THE FUCK AM I!!!!!!!??????
Looking around once more, I found a discernible path that cut through the trees, one that probably only those who ventured into the forest quite often, and apparently, me this one time. I figured that standing around in the middle of a strange forest that was possibly filled with dangerous creatures wasn't the best course of action, so I decided to take the path.
I started walking down the path, ducking under the occasional low branch or stepping over the roots of a tree. It was very warm, not like the mid-October weather of New York City. I laid down my backpack and took off the leather jacket given to me by my father. Luckily, I had stuck with a simple black T-shirt for today. I replaced my bag around my right shoulder, and slung my jacket over my right. As I walked through the forest, I began to think. I guess the relative quiet of the forest made me feel like doing some self-reflecting.
Anonymous
The name I had chosen for myself. No one called me by my real name anymore. No one left to remember it. There are some days where I can barely remember it. I started using the name when I was 15. I liked the name "Anonymous", meaning that I could be anybody, but nobody knows who I really am. Anonymity is important when you're in the line of work I'm in.
I've been Anonymous for 10 years. 10 years today, on October 10. It's the only reason that I decided to actually leave my apartment and go outside. I had gone to a bar close to where I lived, ordered a glass of Jack Daniels, and toasted myself to a decade of ruining the lives of pedophiles and thieves and other scumbags who thought that the Dark Web was a haven for bastards like them, until I decided that it was time for them to pay for their crimes.
As I drank, I kept a picture of me and my family on the bar in front of me. The picture was taken when I was 13, a little more than a year before my life was changed. The picture contained me, my mother, my father, and my twin sister. The picture was taken at the boardwalk at the Jersey Shore. I remember how we had spent the entire day there, looking at all of the shops and attractions that the Shore had to offer. It was one of the best days of my life.
I ran my thumb over my sister's face. My sister; the reason why I do what I do.
God, I miss her. I miss all of them.
I wonder if they look down at me every now and then? If they do, I would hope that they're proud of what I've done. Cause I know I sure as hell am.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize that the scenery had changed. Instead of thick forestry, I was now surrounded by apple trees. The apples were a bright, luscious red, and they were definitely bigger than any apples I had seen before.
Out of curiosity, I picked one from the nearest tree and took a bite out of it. Jesus Christ, it was like I had eaten the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden! As I swallowed and went to take another bite, I heard a rustling coming from behind one of the trees. Out of caution, I put down my bag, opened it, and pulled out my M1911, loaded with .45 hollow-point rounds. Another gift from my late father. As I began to stand back up, I heard another rustle coming from some bushes. I whirled around, aiming at the bushes where the noise came from.
"Who's there?" I asked. I pulled back the hammer on the gun. "Come out with your hands up, or I'll put a bullet in your head."
After some more rustling, a small, yellow filly with a bow in her hair came out of the bushes. Since when do horses accessorize their manes?
I stuck my .45 back into my pocket. "What's a horse doing out here?" I asked myself aloud. Then again, if there were horses out here, that means that there could be a farm nearby, and I could figure out where the hell I was.
"Ah live here, mister! This orchard here belongs to mah family!"
Wait a second.
Did that horse just fucking speak!?
"Did you just talk?" I asked the horse, dumbfounded.
The filly smiled brightly. "Of course ah did!"
What. The. Fuck.
Since when the fuck do horses talk?
As much as my instincts made me want to panic, I could see that this horse in front of me was just a child, so I didn't want to scare her. But I can't help but wonder why she wasn't scared when I pulled out my pistol.
Before I could say anything else, I felt something slam into my side, knocking the wind out of me. The hit sent me flying into the nearest tree, slamming into it back-first. I felt something in me crack, and as I slid down the tree, everything turned black.
I woke up in a cold sweat, in a bedroom that I didn't recognize, laying down in a bed that was way too small for me.
For a second, I though that the forest and the orchard and the talking pony must have been a dream, until the throbbing pain in my back proved otherwise.
I began thinking back to the nightmare I had right before I woke up. It was of the night my sister's death. It was so vivid, it was like mental time travel. It's a night that haunts me to my very core. One that will follow me until the day that I die.
I turned away from the window and over to a dresser across from the bed. I picked up a framed picture from the top of the dresser and examined it. In the picture, a red stallion with a piece of wheat in his mouth stood on the right. On he left, was what I assumed to be a mare with orange fur and a blonde mane wearing a Stetson. In between the two was the same yellow filly I had seen in the orchard. They all had bright, happy smiles on their faces. It reminded me of when I still had a family of my own.
I left the bedroom and descended down the stairs, trying to be careful of how I moved around, due to the injuries I sustained from getting slammed into that tree. My ribs and back throbbed painfully at the memory.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard a pair of feminine voices from what I guessed to be the kitchen. As I made my way over to the kitchen, the voices became clearer, and I could understand what they were saying.
"What should we do with it, Twilight?"
"I don't know, Applejack. I've seen humans before, but from how you describe him, he sounds potentially unstable, especially if he was so quick to pull a weapon when faced with confusion."
I resent that.
"Ah think we should turn him over to the Princesses. For all we know, he could be dangerous."
I didn't know who the fuck these "Princesses" were, but I'll be damned if I'll let them drag me to some group of royal assholes so that they can do whatever they want to me. For all I know, they'll experiment on me and fuck up my physiology six ways from Sunday.
"I don't think that's necessary, Applejack. He was probably just confused. He's most likely never seen ponies like us, before."
Well, at least that's one rational being other than me here.
I hugged the wall and peeked around the corner. I saw the same orange mare with the Stetson talking to another purple one with a horn on her head.
Wait, a horn? Are you fucking serious? A fucking unicorn?
What kind of children's book universe did I get zapped to?
The purple one's horn glowed, and a purple aura encased my M9, which was sitting on the table that they stood adjacent to. She held the gun close to her face, examining it at different angles.
"I've seen weapons like this in the human world." she said. "It's called a gun. It's typically used as a mean of self-defense. It's main use is for killing others."
Well, that's one hell of a way describe the purpose of a gun.
She continued to turn the gun this way and that. I decided to make my presence known when she attempted to look down the barrel of my pistol.
"Careful with that." I said, turning the corner. "Your gonna blow your head off with that thing." I walked swiftly over to them and grabbed the gun out of her magical grasp.
The orange one, who I assumed to be Applejack, immediately eyed me with aggression. "You better watch it, partner." she growled at me. "Ah don't take too kindly to creatures pointin' strange weapons at mah family."
To help ease the tension, I held my hands up in a submissive manner. I unloaded the magazine from my pistol and laid it down on the table. I popped out the single bullet that sat in the chamber. It landed on the floor with a light tink.
"I'm not aiming to kill anyone, here." I said. "I'm sure we can discuss this rationally." I set my gun back on the table.
The purple one trotted closer to me and held out her hoof. "My name's Twilight Sparkle. What's yours?"
They got weird fucking names here.
Not wanting to give her my real name just yet, as I barely knew anything about these creatures, I instead gave her the name that I was more accustomed to.
"My name is Anonymous."
Later that day...
After the purple one, Twilight, checked me out to make sure any injuries I had weren't serious (which I don't get why she didn't do it while I was asleep), she started dragging me through town back to her home, where she was going to let me live for he time being. As we walked through the town, I gawked at all of the pastel-colored ponies that we passed by. Everyone was so friendly to one another, as if they had all known each other their entire lives. It was so...nice.
I hated it.
I know that makes me sound like an asshole, but I don't do nice. When I do, It's only if I absolutely have to, like if I'm trying to keep a cowpony from bruising any more of my ribs with another kick. Serious, sarcastic, cruel, and sometimes compassionate are right up my alley. Nice, however, is not.
What can I say? I spend my time ruining-and sometimes ending-the lives of criminals. On top of that, I've seen so much fucked up shit, that it's a wonder that I haven't started seeing a therapist. Kinda takes away any reason to have a demeanor that's all happy and sunshine and rainbows and crap.
As we walked through town, which earned us many a stare from a number of the town's residents, as they've most likely never seen a human before, Twilight tried to start a conversation with me.
"So, Anonymous..." she started, "What kind of job did you have back in your world?"
Fuck.
"I was self-employed." I answered, hoping I could avoid giving her the whole truth.
"Fascinating!" she replied. "What did you do?"
Shit.
"I..." I tried to think of something to tell her. "I was a private investigator." Not the worst lie, but it was the only thing I could think of.
"You'll have to tell me about it sometime." she said. I hope "never" is a good time for her.
We arrived at a large tree with a door built into the trunk. I looked up and saw several windows built into the trunk as well. Twilight walked towards the door and opened it, motioning for me to follow her. I walked in with her too see a large room filled with books. At least 90% of the wall space was filled with bookshelves.
"Welcome to the Ponyville Library!" Twilight said, smiling.
As I looked around the room, a small lizard-like creature with purple scales and a green underbelly walked into the room...on his hind legs.
This world will never cease to amaze me.
"Hey, Twilight." He greeted her. "I finished the dishes and reorganized those books. What was that emergency that Applejack was...talking...about..."
The lizard stopped talking as soon as he got a good look at me. He stared at me for a few seconds before speaking again:
"Who's he?" he asked Twilight.
"Spike, this is Anonymous." Twilight introduced me. "He's gonna be staying with us for a while."
I extended my hand, which he tentatively shook.
"Spike is my assistant here at the Ponyville Library." Twilight informed me. I nodded to show that I had heard her as I set my stuff down on the couch that sat in the middle of the room. The sun was already setting when we had left Applejack's farm, and by now night had settled over the town.
I began emptying the contents of my bag and setting them on the coffee table. I laid out my laptop, phone, iPod, and pistol first, followed by the picture of my family, and a large hunting knife that I kept for when I was feeling more...creative with my methods of punishment.
"What's with the weapons?" the lizard asked me. I sent a glare in his direction, showing that questions about my personal belongings were not welcome. He backed away from me.
"Yeesh. Sorry." he said.
"Okay, well its time for bed, Spike." Twilight said hurriedly as she ushered the lizard upstairs. Her horn glowed, and a pillow and blanket appeared next to me on the couch as she followed her assistant upstairs, leaving me alone.
I lied down on the couch, covering myself with the blanket and hiding my gun under my pillow, as I had done wherever I slept for the last 10 years. I lied there for an hour as I contemplated how I was going to get home. It began to sink in that maybe I wouldn't be able to go home, and I'm stuck in the middle of a world that has no idea what the fuck the Internet is.
Everything I spent my life working towards meant nothing here. What was I supposed to do? Being Anonymous was all I knew how to do anymore. As far as I was concerned, I was Anonymous, and nothing else.
All I knew was how to hack, steal and kill. What use is that in such a peaceful country as this?
Soon enough, I fell asleep, and the nightmares started once again.
