The things i do for love

A/N: alright everypony, i hope you all like the new chapter, but i need a bit of help. I'm going to need a song for the next chapter, and not just any song, but a lullaby. now, if any of you can find one that would be suitable(With words, and in a female range would be nice, for reasons that will become obvious as soon as you finish this chapter) or you come up with one, send me a link, or the lyrics, via Private message. i hope y'all can help me out, cuz if not, the next chapter might be kinda far away. But, for right now enjoy this bit of plot twists.

I was tired, hurt, and soaked in blood. I was limping through the forest, trying to just find a place to rest, to think, to figure out if I was actually doing the right thing. I’m sure you’re wondering just how I got into this position, and I think I have enough time to tell you. I’m pretty sure I managed to lose the guards an hour ago. “You know what this means, don’t you?” damn it Rage, I swear to god if you sa-“Flashback. Trust me, kid, I don’t like it any more than you do.” I guess he’s right… wait a minute… am I stoned? I’m seeing ripples everywhere……… I knew I shouldn‘t have eaten that one guy, he was totally tripping balls……..

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He sits there, bandages around his midsection, where he had been stabbed. He had cauterized the wound earlier, using his blade to burn the wound shut. just gonna point this out, but the blade isn’t actually THAT hot. I had to heat it over the stove….. Can I continue now? Hm? Oh, shit, sorry, go on. Thank you. As I was saying, he sits there, bandages around his slightly burnt midsection, sharpening his sword. He knows he has time before the guards arrive, and he likes being prepared. He puts his sword back into it’s scabbard, and walks up the stairs to find his armor, which he left where he had found the bandages. When he reaches the top of the stairs, something compels him to look into the mirror to his right, and what he sees there…… disturbs him...... Alright bro, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to cut you off there. This whole third person, present tense thing isn’t doing anything for me. So, here’s what happened when I looked in the mirror. Have you ever just looked into the mirror, and looked yourself in the eye? Well, normally, you expect to see…. Something. Anything, be it fear, joy, sorrow. Hatred, whatever….. I hadn’t looked in a mirror in almost four years now, and I had usually seen something in my eyes when I had, but now….. I saw nothing. They were blank. No shine, no sparkle, no fear, hatred, anger, or anything, just….. Nothing. Beyond my eyes, I saw a monster. My eyes were sunken in, my lips were white(like milk white bro. that’s not healthy.), my teeth were an orange color(a mixture of yellow, from lack of care, and red, from…. Well, you know.), and my hair was turning grey, my beard was longer than it should have been(I shouldn’t even have one, considering I’m now nineteen…. But then again, I had one when I was sixteen, so whatevs.), and, in essence, I looked like those homeless people you see in the street, begging for change…. Except I had armor. In my reflection, I saw the one thing I always swore to myself I’d never be. The kind of person that, when given a choice between suicide and Columbine, would choose Columbine without hesitation, simply because it meant they got to kill people… and it scared me. What have I become?” I asked myself, not expecting a response. Though, of course, I did.

“Well, it seems to me that you’ve become quite the public enemy number one. Congratulations on that one, my friend. Quite an accomplishment, if I do say so myself.” I turned around to see Discord, standing there.

“Figures. I don’t suppose you’re here to help me at all, are you?” I asked, knowing full well the answer.

“Why, of course not, my dear boy. That wouldn’t be fair, now would it? I simply came to see how you were doing. Want one?” he said, pulling a pack of smokes out of nowhere.

“You’re damn straight I want one. I didn‘t know you smoked.” I said as he handed me one. Now, I know I’m gonna get shit tons of hate mail for this one, but screw off. I’m nineteen, so it’s legal, and I’ve been through a lot, so deal with it. He lit both our smokes(not sure how) and put the pack away.

“I could say the same of you, but, as you are so fond of saying, shit happens.”

“Hey! Watch your mouth. I’m the only one allowed to swear around here, alright?” I said jokingly. Good times, good times. But seriously, the shit was about to hit the fan. “I don’t suppose you could at least help me put on my armor?” I asked, to which he simply snapped. “That was fast. I kinda expected you to come up with some bullshit excuse about rules.” I said, causing us both to laugh. He disappeared in the midst of the laughter, which is when I allowed myself to let my mind wander for awhile. I didn’t want to fight anypony anymore. I was tired. I was always tired. Something I think I may have failed to mention, is that werewolves can never get a good nights rest in their lives. Nightmares plague our dreams constantly, mostly of killing those closest to us. That, and if you drink the blood of someone you killed in human form, you turn instantly, even if it’s broad daylight. The only reason this doesn’t apply to beast form, is that you’re already in beast form. You can’t very well change into a werewerewolf, that would just be stupid. I thought about this as I walked back downstairs and saw Fluttershy’s corpse. There was enough blood around her for me to drink….. But did I want to? At this point, I was tempted to just turn myself in and face my fate. I sat down on the stairs and just….. Stared at my hands… wondering how much blood had been on them…. And how many times I had cried into them. I didn’t know, but if I had a wall with tally marks on it for each time I had, I’d have to add another. I cried, uncontrollably. “How the fuck could I do this? How could I kill them… and feel nothing? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME!?” I yelled as I punched the stair I was sitting on, leaving a good sized dent in it.

“Yer a buckin’ maniac is what ya are.” came the familiar voice of Applejack. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“C-C-Christian? Is that you? Y-You were one of my bestest best besties…..” Said the voice I could single out as Pinkie’s…. I couldn’t take that bit of sentiment, and began to openly sob. Yeah, I cried, right there in front of Applejack and Pinkie. Ya got a problem with that? Cuz I don’t really care if you do.

“I-I know I was…… but I….. I’ve changed, Pinkie.” I said, staring at the ground, my hair falling into my face, my tears staining the floor. “I’m not the s-same person you knew, Pinkie….. I’m just… tired. Tired of pushing on through all this bullshit… tired of fighting… tired of living…” I said….. And she sat down next to me.

“Pinkie! I told ya, he’s dangerous! Get away from ‘im.” yelled Applejack, but she was ignored. Pinkie threw her hooves around my shoulders and…. Sang softly into my ear… the most haunting melody I have ever heard….