Awoken

Awoken - Entry Two and Three

Entry Two

Day One

I just got back from my job. It was horrible. I had to skin a mare and her friends today. I feel...  I feel glad I did it.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO. I CAN'T. I WON'T. I SHOULDN'T. WHY. I HAVE WORKED HERE FOR EXACTLY EIGHTY EIGHT DAYS, TWENTY HOURS, TEN MINUTES AND TWELVE SECONDS. I HAVE HARVESTED THREE HUNDRED COLTS, FOUR HUNDRED MARES, AND TWO HUNDRED FILLIES AND FOALS. I CAN'T TAKE IT. WHY AM I GLAD?

I have built my life on judging the lives of ponies, and deciding that they all deserve to die. I caused them the worst pain they could experience, and it's starting to wear on my sanity. I haven't figured out why I'm glad I killed them yet, but I do know that if I escape, the world will see me as a monster. I will be basically dragged back and executed. All I want now is redemption, I want all the ponies in the world to see me as a regular pony. I have no chance at escape, though. If I try, I'll be harpooned and... Oh Celestia... I don't even want to think about it...

I'm not sure if I will ever be considered a normal pony, but I have been helping ponies as we skin them. I stab them through the heart quickly, ending their lives so they don't have to suffer through it. I can't bear to listen to them scream anymore. I wear the earplugs, but it doesn't help.

I don't think anything really bothers me anymore. I've seen and caused more pain than you'll ever know. I've done... Unthinkable things... Sometimes we would torture the ponies before skinning them, we would use branding irons, beat them, and just give them a lot of pain. I have to go now, it's bunk time and I need to try to get sleep.

Entry Three

Night One

I had the worst dream. I was killed. By a shadow of myself. Completely black. He killed me with his bare hooves. Snapped my neck and stabbed me in the chest. I felt all of it. I can't sleep and I don't have much sanity left anymore. I just want the shackles on my mind to be broken so the work can stop. I'm going to work in processing for a while so I don't go completely nuts. The dream, though... It felt real...

Oh god. It was real. I just checked my chest. I have marks right where he stabbed me. Scars of an old injury it appears, but I have never had an injury like this. The thing is, if my dreams are crazy like this, and they end up being real, how long do I have to live? It appears they can't kill or harm me to where I would die yet. I'm not sleeping tonight.