Like an Old, Bitter Wine...

by Flint-Lock

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Drama, Equestria Girls, Sunset Shimmer
Length: 2662

After the most exhausting night of her life,Sunset Shimmer returns to her apartment

It's been a long night for Sunset Shimmer.

First, she was transformed into a demon. Then she was blasted by a rainbow friendship laser of some kind. Now, as she limps down the hall to her apartment, she's an absolute wreck.

She could really go for a shower.

Special thanks to Georg for proofreading and editing.

Published 2021-01-08 19:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-01-08 19:10:01 UTC

I'm Down On My Back and I Don't Know My Name...

Sunset Shimmer was a shapeshifter

Once upon a time, she’d been the curious, bright-eyed personal student of the most powerful being in Equestria. After seeing that vision in the mirror, that student had morphed into a rebellious brat. One dimensional hop and a skip later, that rebel morphed into this bald monkey thing that couldn’t decide if it was a carnivore or a herbivore.

A fresh jolt of pain shot up the former unicorn’s bruised leg. She stopped in the middle of the hall and winced.

A few years later, the rebel had clawed her way to the top, shifting into the de facto queen of a local high school. When she coronated herself with Twilight’s crown, that queen had twisted herself into a demon.

Now, as she plodded down the hallway to her tiny apartment, for the first time in years, she didn’t know what she was.

Slowly, she half-walked, half limped her way down the scuffed wooden floor, struggling to keep her awkward primate legs upright. Every step on the scuffed floor sent bolts of flaming lightning up her legs. Her awkward, alien arms hung slack against her sides, muscles overstretched like old, brittle rubber bands. Eyelids drooped. Her jaw hung slack. Thoughts turned to molasses. Staying upright was an exercise in itself.

A few hours ago, she’d wanted hundreds of stallions and mares tending to her every whim, wanted the power of life and death over millions. Most importantly of all, she’d wanted the hard-earned respect of her former teacher.

Now, she’d gladly trade it all for a glass of water, some aspirin, and a soft bed.

Finally, Sunset managed to drag her frame over to the door. Fumbling with mitten-like hands, she somehow managed to shove her key into the deadbolt and shove herself in. kicking off her boots and throwing her jacket on the floor.

The tiny studio apartment had never been a home. There were no rugs, no posters on the brick and wood walls, and no furniture save for a card table in the tiny kitchenette, a laptop, and a bed in a corner. For the past two years since her self-exile, this room had been both shelter and cell, reminding her of how much she’d fallen, spurring her to try harder.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Sunset rummaged through the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of aspirin, unscrewing the lid and popping a tablet into her mouth. A swig of water from the sink sent the chalky tablet tumbling down her throat

Just as she was about to turn around, Sunset caught a glimpse of something in the mirror. She, yelping in shock, adrenaline surging through her veins. It took her a second to realize who she was looking at.

It was amazing; in only a few short hours, she’d gone from “Queen Bitch” to “Hopeless Wreck.” Her flawless lemon-colored face was smudged with bruises, sweat, and caked-in dirt, with tear tracks running along her cheeks like dried-out river beds. Her flame-red and gold bangs- her “bacon hair” as everyone called it when they thought she wasn’t listening- was a tangled, frayed mess.

Worst of all were her eyes. Usually, she could see the raw, untamed determination that had driven her since fillyhood, the kind that had given her that yin-yang sun cutie mark; The fire that had pushed her to give everything she had, then give a little more. Now, all she could see was ash.

Splashing her face with water from the rusted faucet, Sunset scrubbed away the worst of the grim until she looked a little more presentable. Slowly, she dragged her body over to the bed and flopped on top of it. Her screaming muscles quieted down, appeased by the offering of aspirin.

Closing her eyes, Sunset tried to leave the waking world behind, only for it to drag her back kicking and screaming ; a few hours of cleaning up the aftermath of her mistake while flogging herself over and over again had left her in a peculiar state; drained and wired at the same time.

Raindrops started drumming against the apartment’s lone window.

Thanks, nature. I needed the atmosphere. Sunset groaned, reaching into her jeans pocket and pulled out her smartphone. Surprisingly, it was still intact. It’d been exposed to unholy magical flame, blasted by a rainbow, and slammed into a crater, and the little device was only slightly scratched.

Someone on the design team deserved a raise.

Tapping the internet app, she searched for the Canterlot Chronicle’s website and selected it. When the page finally loaded, she didn’t have to look far; splashed across the front page was a photo of Canterlot High, sans its front entrance, with the headline “Blast Rocks Canterlot High.”

Sunset scrolled down. So that’s the story they’re going with. According to the article, a “cruel prank” by an “unnamed student” had started a gas leak that was ignited by faulty wiring. Of course, the article didn’t mention the absence of any gas lines near the alleged blast zone, the massive crater on the front lawn, or the towering rainbow corkscrew that had set off every car alarm in the city.

Then again, what were the Principals supposed to say: “ Oh, one of our students gained control of a magical artifact and accidentally turned herself into a she-demon. Then, six girls, one of whom was an alicorn from a parallel universe, defeated her with the power of friendship.” Even back home, it would have been a pretty far fetched story. Here, it’d probably get you committed.

Not that it mattered. Prank or demonic transformation, her punishment was the same: a two-week suspension, followed by a one-month suspension, and she’d have to assist the construction crews repairing the main entrance. And that wasn’t counting the hundred or so angry classmates who wanted her head on a pike.

After what she did, and what she’d tried to do, it was a slap on the wrist.

The little phone buzzed. A notification popped up

“Hmm?” Sunset checked. A text? Who could be texting her at this unholy hour?

She checked the user. Pinkie Pie? They’d barely even spoken to each other since the incident. How did she get this number?

Whatever. Sunset tapped the pop up. She wasn’t in the mood to care.

HEY SUNNY THE GIRLZ AND I ARE MEETING ATT SUGARCUBE CORNER @ 1200 TOMORROW WANNA JOIN?

The rest of the message was nothing but lines of smiley emojis.

Sunset sighed and flipped off her phone. She’d...think about it

As raindrops hammered against the window, Sunset lay there and sighed, staring at the ceiling as if it held the secrets of the universe. Now what? Transferring to another school district wasn’t an option. News traveled fast in this world; by now, the entire world and their mother knew who she was and what she’d done. Already social media would be filled with memes, images, and goddess knew what else.

Returning to Equestria wasn’t on the table either. Thanks to Starswirl’s design, the portal wasn't opening for another two and a half years, until the moon was correctly aligned, she was stuck here. Besides, she’d made a promise to someone. Someone who’d offered her mercy when she’d needed it the most...and deserved it the least.

Slowly, Sunset reached under her bed, feeling around, and pulling out an old shoebox. Setting it on her lap, she lifted the lid and reached inside, pulling out a photograph of her in her prom dress, wearing the crown from last year’s Fall Formal.

Once upon a time, on the rare occasion when things didn’t go her way, this little Box of Glory had been there to cheer her up. Inside, a visual record of every single thing she’d accomplished over the past two years: photographs of herself holding trophies, selfies with her sycophants, copies of report cards, and essays; perfect bandages for a bruised ego. Now, after leafing through them for a few minutes, Sunset just tossed the box onto the floor, scattering paper and photographs like fallen leaves. It was all just paper now.

The dirt and sweat clinging to her body started to itch something fierce. Groaning, she pried her body off the bed, plodded zombie-like over to the bathroom, peeling off her soiled clothing, and turned on the water. Once it was steaming hot, she climbed in...and into instant rapture.

Sunset moaned, leaning against the glass panel as delicious, liquid warmth washed over her body, massaging sore muscles. Grabbing a bar of soap, Sunset started scrubbing the aftermath of the night away. Sweat, dirt, and grime ran down her body in muddy rivulets, flowing down the drain as a muddy, soapy slurry.

Awkward as this body was, she had to give it credit; it was easy to clean. With her old body, a mess like this would have taken days to clean out, and even then there’d still be stains.

Once her front side was clean, Sunset grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the counter and squirted it into her hair working it into a lather. Water flowed through the frothy mass, streaming down her back…

“GAH!” Red-hot lightning shot up Sunset’s spine. Quickly, she turned off the water and bolted out of the shower, nearly slipping on the slick tiles. Standing in front of the mirror, Sunset slowly turned around, looking over her shoulder.

Sunset recoiled. Her stomach turned sour. There, right between her shoulder blades, were two massive crescent-shaped scars, like two waning and waxing moons, drawn in angry red tissue.

Gingerly, she ran a finger over the scaly, angry flesh with the morbid curiosity of a child poking a dead animal with a stick.

Cold metal pressed against her scalp. Something like liquid lightning surges through her body, reigniting her long-dormant magical core.

Sunset fell to the floor, hugging herself.

Raw magic flows through her body. She groans. Power, so much power. It’s so delicious. Such a rush. The feeling is almost drug-like.

Forget her previous plans. Why settle for being Princess? With this power, she can become a Queen, no, a goddess!

Twin spikes of pain shot up her back. Sunset swallowed her gorge, trying to keep what little was left in her stomach.

Something’s wrong. There’s an intense, burning sensation in her back. Two demonic wings erupt from between her shoulder blades. Her teeth stretch themselves in wicked-looking fangs, while two horns sprout from her fiery hair.

That’s not all. There’s someone else inside her body... and they’re laughing.

The flashbacks broke like a bad fever. For a while, Sunset just sat there on the cheap tiles, rocking herself back and forward. Hot, bitter years trickled down her face.

In a merciful world, the next thing she would have remembered was waking up in the crater, confused and dizzy. Instead, she’d been a helpless meat puppet; able to see, hear, and feel everything, but helpless to do anything. Arms, legs, those unholy wings, all obeyed a new master.

And when that...thing reached into the heads of her classmates, she saw through their eyes. Saw herself as others saw her. To some, she’d been a predator lurking in the darkness. To others, a sword dangling above everyone’s heads. She’d felt the pain of every broken friendship, felt the surge of every panic attack she’d ever induced, felt the betrayal of everyone she’d trampled on her way to the top.

When that fiery rainbow enveloped her and scorched her soul to ash, she’d welcomed it.

Reluctantly, Sunset forced herself off the floor and back into the shower. Scrubbing herself robotically.

That monster that had taken over her body...where had it come from? Was it some kind of psychic parasite sleeping in her subconscious waiting for the right moment? Or was it something created by the crown itself?

No, that wasn’t it. When she lost control of her body, it wasn’t like some monster squirming into her mind; it was more like it was more like...like a piece of herself had suddenly become self-aware.

Something froze inside her body. Or maybe, she wasn’t Sunset Shimmer at all.

It made sense; the Sunset she knew wouldn’t be wallowing in guilt. Far from it, that other Sunset she would be simmering, wringing her hands, cooking up ways to regain her lost prestige. When that rainbow laser struck, that Sunset had been destroyed, burned to ash. In her place was this homunculus, made from whatever bits and pieces the crown could salvage; a shanty built from the ruins of a palace.

Or maybe she was just going crazy. After tonight, who could tell?

Sunset shut off the water and plodded in front of the mirror. She stared at her hand Remembering how she’d scrabbled at the crater walls, still weak from her experience, Remembered how Twilight had stood at the edge of the hole, looked down...then offered her hand.

Why? Even if you ignored the events of the previous two years, she’d still stolen a powerful artifact, conspired to overthrow the government, and nearly murdered a princess of Equestria. .
Besides, if her theory was correct, the real culprit was dead. Sunset had been evil, cunning, manipulative. She... she was nothing.

Something sparked in her head. Maybe... Of course...She had this all wrong.

It wasn’t what Twilight had seen.

A smile slowly spread across her face. It was what Twilight hadn’t seen.

When her former arch-enemy had looked down into that pit, she hadn’t seen the heartless, power-hungry bully. Nor had she seen something broken beyond repair. She’d seen a bottle of poison emptied and rinsed out. A slate scrubbed clean, a blank canvas, the first step on a long journey.

A fire sparked in Sunset’s heart. Storming out of the bathroom, Sunset seized the Box of Glory and plucked out a photograph and nearly retched; everything about it made her sick, that smug, arrogant smile that screamed I’m Better than you, that cocksure pose. Glaring, she grabbed the photo by both corners and slowly, sadistically, tore it in half. Dumping the two halves into a wastebasket, she pulled out another photograph and gave it the same treatment. And another, and another, and another.

“Die! Die Die die die die!” Sunset shouted, tearing into the box’s contents, executing her past. One moment, they were priceless records of her accomplishments. The next, they were a pile of shredded paper and chemical film. With every photograph destroyed, the fire raged hotter and hotter, becoming a blazing, white-hot star, burning away the filth of the past.

It didn’t last long. Once the last piece of paper had been turned to confetti, the star dimmed to a feeble ember.

It wasn’t going to be that easy. Destroying a box of paper was one thing. Undoing her old self’s legacy, was quite another. Redeemed or not, emptied or not, all of that wickedness, all of that evil had left a residue. Somehow, she’d have to clean it up.

And if the past few hours had taught her anything, she didn’t have to do it alone. Snatching up her phone, Sunset tapped on Pinkie’s message and hit “reply”.

“I’ll be there,” She wrote.

Once she hit send, Sunset placed her phone on the nightstand, slipped into some pajamas, then tucked herself under the covers. Tomorrow wasn’t going to be easy; Promise or not, she doubted any of them were thrilled with having to be her friend, except Pinkie, but well, she was Pinkie.

Still, they were willing to give her a second chance. That was more than she’d asked for, and a much, much more than she’d deserved.

As reality slowly dissolved, Sunset reflected on her life for the last time. She’d been a lot of things: Tyrant, student, monster. Now, it was time for her to become something different; something she’d never even considered until tonight.

A friend.

Author's Note

Inspired by this