Confusion.
This is how she lived. One of the only emotions she understood. Why things happened the way they did, why she felt the things she didn't want, and why she couldn't put aside the one part of her mind she thought about the most. Be it a sign of illness, perhaps. It would make sense. The things she had been through during the past month had only made her perspective in this category grow, and from her findings, the only possible answer would more than likely be a feared mental disease of hers;
Insanity.
Now, she knew that insanity was a low likely thing. Things would appear more unclear, even more blurred than things already were. She couldn't put the pieces together, but at least she was able to think. Her thoughts ran through her head, and even though she couldn't think clearly, at least she was able to. Although she had her mind (somewhat) together, she still didn't feel right. Something was off. Completely off. This feeling was caused not only by her thoughts, by the darkness that corrupted her mind, but by the feeling she had when she looked down at herself.
The feeling she had when she looked at her legs.
Worry.
It was the thing that made her think so much. Still, no matter how much thought she put into it, no matter the scientific study she did, she could not point down why they were the way the were. How they got there, and even when. She assumed it'd been recently, due to her ~~friends~~ earlier comments about them, though that didn't help whatsoever. The burning question remained stuck in her head: Why were they there? She didn't know, they didn't know. No one knew.
Confusion, worry, and the worst feeling of them all.
Pain.
This had to be the breaking point. Though worry and confusion out-ruled her mental state of mind, pain had to be the most unsettling thing she had ever felt. In all the years she had lived, only pushing up to these moments were what she remembered. It was as if the world paused at some moment in time just to toy with her, to play games with her. Though nothing made sense, she knew she was of existence. It was obvious, of course. If it weren't, then she wouldn't have thought so much.
But this was a problem.
She was different, and this wasn't a compliment. She wasn't normal. She wasn't the pony everyone thought was strange but admired for how outgoing she was. She wasn't awkward, or shy, or dull or boring or unattractive. It was the way her legs were that made others terrified of her. She was different because the ponies were scared of her, thought her as a threat, feared her.
The two, long metal knives that now cover what used to be soft, purple legs now pressed against her flank constantly. They went down to the ground, shining silver to the very tip, a sharp dead end. A giant screw, jammed into the center of her used to be Cutie Mark, tearing away the skin and eating at the flesh, breaking the veins and slicing the muscle open. A damage to her body, with a realization that her talent was gone. Assuring her that she had no more magic, no powerful spells to help her out this time. Blood had stained and hardened her soft fur, trickling down the dreadful blade. And though that seemed fine for a cartoon, technicolor miniature horse, the problem was this: This wasn't an illusion of insanity, this was reality.
All day it hurt. All night it hurt. From the moment she woke up to the moment she slept, it hurt. She dreamt of it while asleep, and mourned over it while awake. It ached non-stop, and her mind was set to this subject always. There wasn't a passing, breathing moment that it didn't ache, that she thought of anything else. This caused her paranoia. She didn't know if this was the worst, or if there was more to come. What sorts of things lingered in the darkness, and what shadows were alive. Whatever had turned her like this made her mind scatter, her heart race. Maybe she was under a spell, maybe she was in a coma. And with all of this unexplained madness going on, who knew what else could happen. Monsters could be waiting for her for all she knew, but perhaps they had already found her, for she was already a monster.
Anxiety.
She was afraid to make friends in fear of them running away. It had already happened to her before. Her pet dragon, Spike, (although more of an assistant he was still her best friend) was taken away by the princess because she was so unstable. What she remembered of him was very little, though she agrees with the decision her princess had made. She loved Spike, truly she did with all of her heart, and she had to let him go. If she hurt him, she wouldn't know what to think of herself. He meant too much to her.
Her friend Rainbow Dash, whom she found very annoying over her boasting and self indulgence, almost sliced into two pieces after she had went crazy on her. Yeah, she had the magic needed to regenerate her (Twilight WAS one of the most powerful ponies in her time, afterall she did represent the Element of Magic) but the process didn't really go as planned. She was able to bring back her friend, but it wasn't the same. She brought her soul to life, but somehow Twilight managed to capture her in her mind. This Rainbow Dash didn't speak, didn't move, didn't even breathe. She was like a robot, though she followed Twilight everywhere happily. In her mind, that is. Her body was similar, however she was covered with some pretty badass tattoos. She still couldn't clear her mind that this wasn't the real Rainbow Dash. This wasn't her overbearing friend whom she'd watch clear the skies, the one who begged anyone for a pal to go watch the Wonderbolts with. This was a mistake. A bad, bad mistake.
Twilight didn't have friends. She wasn't ALLOWED to have friends. What she could remember was very little. She had memories of her accidentally slicing her cyan pegasus friend into pieces, but she knew it wasn't her fault. These legs were causing Twilight her life, and her friends lives as well. Her old friends, at least. Oh, right. She wasn't allowed to have any.
She wasn't allowed to have any magic either.
She tried. And tried, and tried, and tried. Her magic wasn't working. It wasn't there. It was as if it had been stripped from her mind. She needed it, badly. It could've helped her find a way out of the small, black room. It could've provided light, it could've provided a lot more than what she had.
Her magic was gone. Completely gone.
Of course. It was natural Celestia locked her up in a dark, confined room. It was alright that she stole her magic, and forced her friends away. It was Celestia, right? Maybe, maybe not, Twilight didn't want to think it was her but...if she was a threat to Equestria, maybe Celestia did what she had to do. Who else could've had the power to steal her magic, and who else had the ability to lock her away in such a place?
This couldn't have been Celestia...
Which brought the question back into her mind....where was she?
She could always just contact her, right? NO-no, that was a terrible idea. She would never write back anyway. In this dark, cold room, it would be impossible to even compose a letter, let alone find a way out to send one. Whatever she did was unknown to why the princess wouldn't help, yet she still had the urge to contact her. Maybe it was because of what she did to Rainbow Dash. Though, it was an accident...Celestia wouldn't care. She would put the price of ones life over the rest.
That was still a bad thought to have. Maybe Celestia had a fear of her. Maybe something really bad happened between her and the princess and she just couldn't remember. Maybe Celestia had made her the way she is.
Too far.
But why her? How could her royal teacher let her fall? The princess was her tutor, her teacher, the inspiration for her to be who she was before she became this monster. The princess taught her everything she knew and helped her be everything she had become. Without her, she felt like nothing. Like nothing mattered, like she didn't matter. What was there left of her but a failure? She relied on the princess, and all Twilight did was lean against her to support herself. She was nothing now, she was nothing before. Celestia was who held her up, and now she realized that she was never the one who brought herself up. She was an empty shell that everyone else kept stable. She wasn't able to do anything without others. But now, she was this.
Through all of the pain and torture, she had made up her mind. She was completely determined to get these deadly weapons off her flank, and she would stop at nothing to make her seem normal again, and to remember what it was like to be loved. To get her friends back and to get them to love her again, to be able to approach others without them running. All these things were what mattered to her, but all these things were whisked away when the sudden change happened. Was being different the cost? Surely her entire life couldn't be thrown away by something so simple that the world wanted, to teach that it was okay to be different.
But she was a threat. To her friends, her family. What family or friends did she have left, anyway? Other than one of the only ponies she had left in her life, she had nothing. Hell, the last character left in her life didn't even seem real. She saw her when she closed her eyes, she saw her in her dreams. She was always standing there, waiting for Twilight in her slumber. At least she was there, however. It was super lonely in her prison. She just wished there was a way to bring her friend Rainbow Dash out of her mind. There was nothing left but her soul, unable to escape Twilight's dreams.
Why did she care, anyway? This wasn't her friend. It was nothing but a brainwashed mind and soul shoved into a new body. Her little Dashie. She still looked like her, covered with some pretty cool art, but that didn't confound her. It just meant that all she could do was sit back and watch as her lifeless friend danced around in her mind.
It was fine, being alone. Judging by the way it's been for a long while, she took this as the opportunity to get to know her new self. Try to think of another pointless way to get out of this mess, to catch up on how horribly wrong things were, time to just lay down and feel her aching legs press against her for another eternity.
Only, it wasn't fine.
This is who she was, is, and always will be. She didn't have friendship anymore. Without help, she couldn't do anything.
She sighed.
Because without her friends, what magic did she have?
Author's Note
My take on Iopichios Ask-Scissor-Twilight story! I hope you enjoy!
This is a prologue before the actual story begins. A little hard to explain stuff, but I was just setting some things up to set the scene of things. 
