Author's Note

Welcome to A Flurry Of Hell. In this story, you will find that our protagonist and Flurry Heart have a blooming relationship. However, there are many people who would want to tear that love down.

Every journey begins with blah blah blah.

There's a problem with Google Docs that messes up the format.
Sorry.

1. Remember

“There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,

The earth, and every common sight,

To me did seem

Apparell’d in celestial light,

The glory and the freshness of a dream.

It is not now as it hath been of yore;

Turn wheresoe’er I may,

By night or day,

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.”

Whispers among the wind, traveling to my ears, sweet nothings lost upon me. Canals that were stuffed with lies and truths disguised as lies, that happened to be what I was hearing. Precious, cherished air managed to escape from my overused lungs, joining the whispers and lies among the wind, moving on without me; I didn't need them anyway. They hate you, they scream! Once again with the lies, when does it end, when does it cease, when does it stop? Salty liquid seeped from a pair of eyes that gift me vision, streaking down my bruised cheeks, dripping down onto my blood-soaked chest; I’m clean, I know I am!

Extravagant decorations and banners swirled around me, intent on filling me with hope and joy; they did not, they did not, they did not… They did not accept you, they scream! The lies? Why? Cake and presents, presented on a table, intricate and grandiose wrappings covering them entirely. For me? Of course not, the voices preach, why would they reward you? Broken nails and missing blood, fallen locks of hair and lost tears on the ground; that of which I walk, littered with swords and shields of frightened warriors who wish, who beg, to rest their eyes upon their kin. You are not sorry for those who died in vain for you, the disembodied and flickering voices shout, planting my own suppressed thoughts into the forefront; much like the brave soldiers who died on the front lines.

Curling my fingers, they clench into fists and squeeze into my palms, drawing blood. More blood, on my hands? I must not allow it, but what I can do? Wipe it away? No, it's not enough. Party hats, stripes and patterns adorned upon them danced in my sight, guttural laughs emanating from their non-existent mouths; I’m sure they're wearing invisible grins on their invisible faces. They laugh and point at you, don’t you see, the voices holler once more; How would I see, I am but blind to what I see in front of me. Fear, Death, Pain… Is that truly what is beyond this threshold? Do I do it? For her? Is she worth it? Yes, No, Maybe, Can you repeat the question?

Placing a single finger on a random wrapped present, a cool, paper texture licked my feeling and sent shivers down the length of my spine; I am not to open this present, it's not meant for me. Do it anyways, you've done enough, after all… Ignoring those who wish to break me, I lodged the undersides of my fingers under the strap and pulled them upwards, successfully ripping the strap clean off. Discarding the bowtie on top, it wouldn't look nice on me anyway, I tore the paper off viciously and carelessly threw it to the side. Under the wrapping was a plain, brown box. Disappointed, but still curious, I lifted the lid off and placed it to the side. Inside was… A piece of string.

Do you not recall? You and your girlfriend used to love watching it together… Throwing caution to the wind to assimilate into the whispers and lies, it slowed me down anyway, I coiled my index finger and thumb around the lone string, pulling it calmly until a single photo fell into the middle of the box, backside up. Slightly scared of what might be on the other side, I picked it up and flipped it over, revealing an image of which I lost; it's inside, somewhere, in the most repressed part of my swollen and damaged mind. Christmas… Girlfriend… Me… Family… Humans… Same? Shaking nervously, the photo dropped back into the box. There are words on the back now; read them. They will either help you or hurt you; the decision is yours.

“Your name is not Anon or Anonymous, but perhaps it should be; They shouldn't know who you really were.”

I allowed the picture to slip from my grasp and back into the throes of the wind, the lies can guide it to its destination now. Watching it disappear from my vision from afar, the party decorations mirrored it as well, vanishing right in front of me. It was soon replaced by dirt that encompassed my feet with a sticky texture; lowering my eyes made me realize it was caked with blood. Spikes that I assume were for barricades protected small trenches and bunkers full of cadavers wearing golden armor; the E.U.P. symbol clear as day on the chest. Walking at a slow pace, I approached the spikes and laid a lone phalange on one, and once more, blood clung to my skin like a baby clinging to its mother.

“I don't understand… What happened?” I forced the words from my mouth, finding it difficult and hard to accomplish. Of course, when I ask this, the whispers grow silent and I was left with nothing but the faint sound of wind whipping at me and the dirt. Opting to find out more, and not from some insane voice that would rather laugh instead of speak, I gripped a bunch of spikes and using my strength, I ripped them out from the soil and threw them to the wind, lies catching them and coaxing them. Sliding down into the trench, I grunted, my body smashing into a bulkier, deceased stallion. Dusting myself off, I stood up and rested my eyes on the pony, paying my respects. After a moment of silence, I snaked my hand underneath his chest plate and fished out his badge and identification; I remember the Crystal Guards having them, but I wasn't sure about the Royal Guards having them because of their notoriety. Some would love to capture a Royal Guard.

“Bronze Buddy… Age twenty-six… Corporal… Rest in peace, Bronze.” I spoke aloud from the card, thinking about placing it back into his chest before deciding to hold onto it; you never know… Continuing on, I stepped over many guards and even regular ponies alike… Mercenaries? Why would they hire mercenaries? Regardless, I ventured further into the trench, eventually reaching a bunker. Dust floated about the air and I hacked and coughed from the obscene amounts; It's almost as if it's been here for years. Limiting my breathing as to not inhale too much, I noticed a table with documents on it, and a pony huddling over him… A large wound in the back of his head. I picked him up and gently placed him down on the ground, once again reading his card. Steel Vigor, Age fifty-six, Captain. How did the enemy even get to the Captain, anyway?

Looking back to the documents, I picked one up and read from it. “Entry #46… We've managed to barricade the trench, but they still keep coming and sneaking off with one of us during the night! Ugh, I might just slit my throat tonight… I haven't decided yet… Gods know it'd be better to die that way.” Narrowing my eyes, my mind raced and I had several questions, but I swallowed them and picked up another. “Entry #78… Fuck it, I’m calling in reinforcements and we’ll make our final stand here… Wish I could see my wife and daughter one more time, but Gods know I’m not that lucky… Still haven't had the balls to kill myself yet… Maybe it's because I would never forgive myself… I would rather die an honorable death and wait for my family in Paradise… I guess I’ll have to wait until then to see them again.”

Setting the paper down slowly, I sighed heavily as I rubbed my forehead; I need to know more, but how? Scanning through the documents didn't yield much, just more on these attackers and their extreme brutality. Nothing about who or what they are. Guess I can't figure out this mystery… At least tonight. Making my way back through the row of bodies, I crawled out of the trench and onto the blood-soaked dirt, feeling it seep into my pores and dig into my nails; much like how these valiant ponies dug their hooves into it as they fought until the end. The difference between me and them?

I’m here to remember.

Their time is done.

* * * * * *

The Sun seeped through my exquisite blinds and violated my comfortable sleep, causing me to raise my eyelids. That only woke me up even more. Groaning to no one in particular, although I wish someone would share my distaste for sudden awakening beams of light; everyone in this godforsaken wasteland is a morning person, so I’m alone in that regard. I guess Luna counts to a certain degree, but she's just happy to be with her sister after a thousand years… I know how that feels; only difference being that I had company, just not people I would prefer to keep by my side on a daily basis. Meh, those thoughts are useless; It's over, and done. No use dwelling on the past.

Yanking my thick blanket off of my half-naked body, which still makes me sweat; Might as well sleep in my birthday suit. Placing my feet on the floor, curling my toes and enjoying the crack that resonated from it, I yawned loudly. I already expressed my hatred for mornings, haven't I? Well, I’ll do it again; I hate mornings. Somethings never change, I guess; much like myself. It's been about three years since Flurry and I began… Well, details are never important. Whilst she has grown exponentially, I've barely aged.... I can grow a wicked beard now, but not even an extra inch down there? Oh well. I should probably clean myself up, if my breath is any indication.

Standing up, I twisted my hips and moaned at the sudden, slightly pleasurable crack that coursed through my torso. I also cracked my jaw, neck, and knuckles; some may say it's unhealthy, but it does wonders for me and that's all that matters. Shuffling my way over to the bathroom, I turned the light on and closed the door. I wrapped my fingers around the faucet on the sink and switched it on, allowing the warm water to cascade down into the porcelain bowl. Glancing to myself in the mirror, I rubbed the five o’clock shadow forming on my face. Grabbing the razor, sadly not an electric one, I began shaving that monstrosity off of my face. I said wicked beard; as in horrible, not cool.

Setting the razor down, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and was satisfied with what I saw, so I pulled out the toothpaste and my personal toothbrush; which is meant for ponies, which basically means it takes up seventy-five percent of the space in my mouth… I appear as though I am fellating on a penis whenever I brush my teeth… Spitting the excess paste out of my mouth, I rinse my brush and hop in the shower, washing myself so I don't smell terrible. Despite being in the middle of a winter wonderland, the Crystal Empire doesn't have a hot water option for anything. ‘Oh, what's that? You're currently suffering from hypothermia? Oh, have some more cold water and maybe, just maybe, you'll become resistant to the cold!’.

Shutting the shower off, I step out and dry myself off with a nearby towel, before dressing myself in some generic clothes; white T-shirt, blue jeans, black shoes, same old, same old. Nothing interesting; At least my clothes don't glow with an eye scorching crystal effect. Kind of annoys me, but their land, their people, their customs. I have no say in it. I like to say that I've impacted the few lives I've been exposed to; Gleaming, Shining, Cadence, Luna… Flurry. It's the little things that keep me going, her included. We’re all just puppets on the stage of life, and you can either be the puppet or the master… So, I walked away from my masters and forsaken the puppet within me.

I stepped out of my room, sighing quietly to myself. Closing the door behind me, I went to lock it, but my hand froze over the doorknob. There's no point; I've never had any trouble with thieves or ponies trying to kill me… Besides, I’m in the most secure place in the entire Crystal Empire. Dropping my hand to my side, I left my room and strolled towards the dining room as usual; I can't really start the day without something to eat, kind of liked how a smoker needs a cigarette when they wake up. Plus, I get to see Flurry and Shining and Cadence and Gleaming. Misery loves company, I suppose, but do I consider myself miserable? That's the million dollar question… No. No, I’m not.

Shaking my head of these thoughts, I focused on not tripping over myself; Apparently I’m really clumsy, according to everyone in the castle. I just think these crystal floors are too slippery. Turning the corner, I said hello to a few guards I passed every morning; never bothered to ask their names. It's not that I don't care to, it's just some of them unapproachable; although I guess that goes both ways. Considering I’m as tall as Princess Celestia, and they praise her as a God, I’m guessing I’m revered as a demon or something. The ponies here, in the castle, see me as normal and accepted me, whilst the ponies in the rest of the Empire are still wary, but I’m growing on them.

Two purple eyes landed on me and the guard grinned widely, the bottom of her spear striking the ground. “Mornin’. I see you shaved that monstrosity off of your face.” Gleaming mentioned, tilting the tip of her weapon towards me slightly. I nodded as I approached her, kneeling down to give her a short hug. She awkwardly patted me on the back before she attempted to push me back. “Geez, when did you become so sentimental? Remember to buy a scarf and glasses while you're at it.” Gleaming scoffed. She's right… Where did that come from?

I smiled warmly. “Sure thing, Gleaming. Just remind me to tell you to buy some socks and a pair of panties.” I joked, tapping her on the head before leaving her to her post. Soon after, her sweet, melodic laugh echoed throughout the halls; that never fails to bring me a smile. Before really getting to know Shining, Cadence, and even Flurry, Gleaming was my go-to gal. She was the first one to accept me and even become my friend, despite my previous behaviour; nervous, anxious, partially insane, and I lashed out at anyone even attempting to get to know me. But, no, I distinctly remember her there, talking to me and breaking through this shell of madness that formed over me in the many years I dwelled the Masters’ Realm.

Princess Luna, of course, was the first to do anything for me. She took me with her, she helped me break free from my strings, to start again; she helped me let go. Afterwards, the other princesses were informed of my arrival and a meeting was had to discuss what was going to happen to me. Princess Twilight, sweet but still a little naive, offered a room in her castle in the town of Ponyville, but was shot down; I was still considered a potential threat to Equestria. Next was Princess Celestia, wise but not without fault, said it would be best if she were to watch me herself in Canterlot. Once again, the answer was no; Too open and too public, said panic would ensue if so much as one pony saw me, same problem with Ponyville.

Of course, that's when Cadence came in. I was to live in the Frozen North, more specifically the Crystal Empire. She said it's not as public as the rest of Equestria, not to mention it's isolated and surrounded by miles upon miles of wastelands of snow. I was considered an underage at the time, albeit being in the Masters’ Realm for what seemed like centuries, so she and Shining adopted me, became a foster family of sorts. Still being nervous and admittedly fragile in the head, I lashed out violently and escaped from that meeting, into the streets of Canterlot, where dozens upon dozens of ponies seen me, witnessed me collectively lose my shit. Dodging guards left and right, I wound up at a waterfall, overlooking a very high fall into a river.

And so, I jumped.

Fortunately and unfortunately at the same time, they couldn't pursue me that far into the forest that was nearby. Sure, they sent out patrols for me here and there, but by large, I was completely and utterly alone; wild animals were my only company. I talked to them, told them stories, but they didn't respond; they never did. So, I killed and ate them, to survive and to quench my overwhelming hunger. It was only afterwards did I realize they were sentient… They were just too afraid to speak. I didn't care. I mean, I do now, I didn't back then. I was mad, dangerous, ruthless. Tired. Tired of people trying to attach strings to me and call me their own, I wanted to be my own person; a real boy. It was a long month of solitary; not necessarily closed in, but I there was nowhere to go except delve into the darkest reaches of the forest in hopes of finding some closure.

There was no closure, no escape. Just endless running and hiding, killing and devouring; a monster, something to be afraid of. Over time, my thoughts became more sadistic and brutal, to the point where I was beginning to fear myself. I hung animals, formed messages using various limbs. They were warnings, boundaries for the princesses; it was clear as day to them… I didn't want them to become my masters. No one saw them. Eventually, I snapped. Took down the animals and hid the bodies, walked back to civilization. I wasn't going to allow them to string me up. Instead, I strung myself up and controlled myself. That day, I realized I didn't have to be just a puppet… I could be a master, too.

Arriving at the dining room’s doors, I closed my eyes for a brief second and let loose a small sigh, placing my hand on the handle. I still remember their fear, my own fear… Much like the fear I had when I discovered my suppressed love for Flurry. Remembering what I did, what I've been through, makes everything I have seem that much more important… And by God, do I want to know. Pushing open the doors, I was immediately assaulted by the scent of a signature and favorite food; pancakes. We may be in a luxurious castle suited to be lived in by royalty, but there is absolutely no single person in the entire world that can not love those spongy, sweet cakes of pan. Already feeling myself grow hungry, I entered the room and was surprised by the lack of anyone but the chefs; completely empty.

“Hmm.” I muttered to myself, approaching the empty table. Twisting my head, I scanned the room for any signs of the three ponies I see everyday, but all I received was a shrug by the chefs. Deciding to just wait for them, I sat down at the head of the table. “Hah, stole your seat, Shining.” Chuckling to myself, I laid back and crossed my arms, resting my eyes on the clock ticking in the middle of the room. Tapping my foot nervously, I bit my lip; they're here before I’m even awake, so what the absolute hell gives? As the chefs placed the plates of food on the table, I distracted myself with the enticing smell and my watering mouth. Fuck it, I’m hungry. Besides, they start eating before I arrive. Forking over a healthy, haha, amount of pancakes to my plate, I carved into them with the viciousness of a wolf.

Mmm, these are so good.

Swallowing the huge wad of chewed-up pancakes, I took a sip of orange juice from a cup placed in front of me, thanking the chef for it. I usually try to seem humble and modest for the sake of not acting like a spoiled royal brat; God forbid I ever turn out like that. But, to their credit, the princesses don't act like that, at least what I've seen of them. Of course, I only spoke to Princess Celestia once, same goes for Princess Twilight, so maybe they do become a little snobby. I don't know. What I do know is that I still talk to Princess Luna regularly, via my dreams or a simple back and forth letter chain; I usually prefer the latter, if for the sake of past experiences and realms. She likes talking to me and so do I, and she knows if she needs to vent or whatnot, I’m here. And she has expressed that goes both ways, too.

I still remember when she found me in that wretched scape of misery and laughter. Even as I laughed in her face and mocked her for trying to help me, she did. Through the storm. Even after all these years, I’m grateful for her. If it wasn't for her, I’d still be there, strings tied tightly around my arms, doomed to dangle endlessly as a puppet. But, no, I’m here now. Family, friends, and Flurry are here with me, and I can't possibly come up with a single excuse to be upset. Sure, it's cold; buuuut it was cold there as well, and a tidbit hot, too. And besides, it's not as if I actually have to go into the Frozen North. I am perfectly content with planting my firm, cold arse directly on this chair and digesting these scrumptious, barbarian treats known as pancakes.

After eating the whole plate of discs of pan and cake, I downed the tangy orange juice and stood up, pushing the chair in; Like I said, if I can help make the staff ponies’ jobs easier, I will. Shooting one more glance at the clock, I promptly left the dining room and stepped back out into the hallway, the large double doors slamming behind me. While I’m glad they're tall enough to accommodate my height, I wish they weren't so loud; don't want my eardrums to be blown out. That, and well… It makes it more difficult to sneak snacks during the night. Walking slowly, I turned my head and gazed out the grandiose windows, taking in the barren wasteland that seems so close, yet so far away. Ironically enough, I've never set foot outside into that freezing nightmare, and I’ll avoid it if I can.

Passing by Gleaming’s post once again, I noticed that she wasn't there. Scanning the hallway, I noticed that there was absolutely no guards around. Perplexed by this sudden change, I hummed in thought before continuing to my room in caution. The further I delved into the castle, the more that was wrong; no guards, no maids, and it was unusually cold, which is especially odd considering there's constant heat flowing through the palace. A chill ran down the length of my spine, and I shivered, realizing that it's growing even colder. I’m going to freeze to death at this rate. Breathing heavily into my palms to warm them up, I jogged to my room as fast as I possibly could, not seeing any guards again. What is going on?

Arriving at my what quarters, I reached for the doorknob when I noticed that the door was ajar when I explicitly closing it. “What the fuck?” I whispered to myself, seeing my own breath course through the chilling air. Maybe the wind blew it open, or perhaps this is all just one huge surprise. Hoping it's one of the two, I pushed the door open and was introduced to the sight of my window being wide open, allowing cold air to freely pass through my room. Rushing to the window, I slammed it shut and locked it, a sigh of relief escaping from my maw. Closing my eyes, I leaned on the dresser. Where is everyone, why is it suddenly cold? Why was my door open, and-and my window? Turning around, I froze in shock at the bombardment of knives levitating in my face.

A figure in a black cloak stepped out of the shadows. “Perhaps thou should have locked thy door.”