Stitches

by Anna_Dash

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Rarity
Length: 1101

A desire, within the deepest depths of your mind. Easily obtainable. A desire that you've dreadfully been looking forward to for the rest of your life. Will Rarity finally let go?

The first thing you should know about me is that I'm not you.

A lot more will make sense after that.

Published 2019-11-04 13:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-11-04 13:20:01 UTC

Generosity

I glanced at the mirror apprehensively.

Stitches.
"Horrid."

It is what you desire after all.
"Of course not, it would simply be diabolical."

You're pathetic, you know. If your prey is easily obtainable, strike.

"I am not going to stoop down to such a low level, you do know that."

You just won't accept the fact that you're hiding me deep inside. You've been hiding your desire for such a long time. Your discordant nature. Strike

"It would cost me a fortune. I'm not willing to play the..."

What? Play the odds and risk it? There's no such thing. You already know they're using you. Now it's your turn to use them and return the favor. There's nothing to lose when you've lost your sanity, precious. You do know that, cease tempting me to remind you every single second.

"You're not real. I possess greater power than you. Leave me be. I shall stop wasting my time speaking to a being as dreadful as you."

Don't tempt me any longer. I can easily unleash my beastly side on someone hopeless and deprived, devoured of all mannerisms... But I still seek something in you. Particularly you. I can easily view your desires. Strike.

"I shall never give away my harmonious nature to something as.... as... As pitiful as vengeance."

I am only here to help you. I'm not some sort of satanic demon that would willingly suck out your soul. In fact, I'm the opposite. I'm an angel sent from Heaven just to help you. You just need to accept.

"Y-you? An angel? Oh, please darling. Don't kid me. I certainly would not like to be manipulated and toyed with as if I were a two year old."

I only help the holy. I see something precious in your merciful soul. That generous soul. Your generosity is heading the wrong direction, my dear.You need to let go and retrieve your honor. You can't go on forever, living like this. You state that I am manipulating you in defense of your friends, but, engulf your thoughts for a while. Who really is using you? And who is worthy of your generosity?

"Stop absorbing my thoughts! I-I won't give away my generosity, you foal!"

If so, my beauty. It's time that they prove their generosity to you, am I right?

I glanced at the mirror once more. Trying to comprehend my overwhelming senses...This burning sensation. Filling my soul with fire. My heart, bursting in flames. The small pit of darkness lying deep in my soul... Slowly emerging from its place. I tried to cease this behavior. I tried. I tried...
A faint, inaudible sound occurred. The sound consisted of a water drop.
I swept away the stains of dry mascara and tears. It was... truly...Pathetic.

Pathetic, muffled screams echoing in my mind.
He was trying to get out.
To release his sentiments and 'advice'.
No, I couldn't take any more of this torture... Torture. Huh...

Zealous to release my emotions free, yet, this strident and serpentine voice was muffling my screams in return for my own bad deeds. 'It' was a callous being, yet, it considered me a sinner for not listening to its cacophonous, diabolical screams. Spreading it's dreadful demands.
We were in this together. Although he was the one slaughtering my effervescent and ebullient self. He assumed I would pursue his devilish attitude.
I was a pure soul...Was I, Indeed?

My elaborate group of friends thought so. They were there to support me. Through calamitous and mellifluous times. For what reason, however? Did they really mean it? Was all of this just a mere facade?

Nothing could've been so perfect... So flourished... So flawless.

I directed my glance towards my mirror yet again.
What did I see there?

A broken mare. She was pathetic. Her usual, divine mane was ruffled and dampened. Her fake eye lashes had fallen. Her cheeks were stained with various substances, including her own tears.
Her stunning, comely eyes were now bloodshot. Her soft, delicate skin was rusty, an accidental cut spreading far and wide through the mare's hoof.

My eyes twitched at the sight, gaining a darker shade of red afterwards. More tears dropped to the floor, as more muffled screams escaped my mouth, since I was covering it with my healthy hoof.

And my friends didn't seem to care. They were never generous to me. Seeing me in this state, refusing to help, but to simply laugh in bemusement. As if I were a puny joke.
This broken state. This everlasting scar. It was piercing through my soul, shredding me to pieces. They didn't deserve generosity. Generosity appealed to them as something constant and something that you'd always look forward to receiving every day. They didn't appreciate all of my hard work. All the moons I've spent, all the effort and time I've wasted. Just trying to be a good friend. And yet, they still take me and my generosity for granted. I was useless to them. Who would care about a fashion-obsessed mare?
With only insanity grasping at my delicate soul. Leaving tears, anger and regret.
Generosity isn't something to spread wherever you go. Generosity isn't something to waste away. Generosity.
Those who give are pathetic. With nothing in return.
It was them, right?
Only them.
The cause of my broken state.
It was them, not me.

I glanced at the mirror once again.

I was ruined.
To put it short, I was glaring at a possessed mare. She had no bit of sanity left in her. She had a heart as black as Tartarus itself.

She had one desire. A desire that reached acres of acres of imaginative atmosphere. Something that her life depended on. If nobody was willing to rescue her other than her inner self, then she would have to snatch away that freedom. Snatch away that false freedom. Yes....
She would have to take what she needed. If they weren't going to be as generous as to give it away themselves, then she would have to take it with no mercy. No sympathy.
Why would she care? They didn't care. She would respond in the same way. She would need to strike at last, and unleash the fury she was holding in the deepest depths of her rhapsodic soul.
She would achieve her desire at last.

Stitches.

Author's Note

Cover Art source:
https://www.deviantart.com/emalajissda

Wanted to write something short, since I'm not in the mood for writing longer fics with more context and characteristics and such.

Hope you enjoyed, constructive criticism would be highly appreciated.