Everyone knows of the damned war that caused Equestria to become a disease-riddled land. Some are lucky, they don't need to know about it—they're already dead. Lucky batards.

On the opposite end, being immune to the deadly Plague makes you a target—for jealousy, for hate, for murder. Constantly having to look over your shoulder and be on your guard, knowing that if you ever let it down, it could be your doom. Fun, right?

There are only a few like that though. The others have all gone bloodlust mad from the Pastromorbo Nostrae. Only takes a little for them to snap.

And if you're really unlucky, you're one of the last scattered remains of Chrysalis' hive or Sombra's army and immune. Hunted, tortured, made to suffer a slow and painful death. Justice, ponies would say.

Heh.

I used to be different back then, y'know? Back when my brother wasn't killed in the damned war, back when my sister wasn't cruel and fake, back when I wasn't aware of how unfair the world really was.

Then everything was taken from me...

Based on Aeluna's fic, 'The Pastromorbo Epidemic'
Written for Aeluna's contest.
Warning: Language