Hungry
He watched them all from an unseen corner. He smelled misery; tasted its sweet flavor on the tip of his tongue. Far more than he had anticipated finding in the capital of a utopian country. His eyes peered out from an unremarkable face, the kind of face that could never be picked out of a crowd. They moved unnoticeably, creeping up on those who came nearest.
Ponies of all different backgrounds traveled down this street. As always, each one radiated some kind of want. He had grown used to this smell; everyone wanted something. But most did not have the kind of want he looked for. What he sought was selfish desire; greed, envy, lust. They were hard to come by in such a paradise, though everyone at some point felt them in their lives.
His eyes found a target. A gray pony was coming, her purple eyes plastered to the sidewalk in worry. He smiled as she came closer, seeing into her mind, reading her secrets. Her intelligent brain was a turbulent storm of anxiety. She was a musician, one of the finest in Canterlot. But her glory had recently been usurped by a white unicorn whose own music proved to be more popular.
He reveled in her unhappiness as she passed by. The rarity of misery in this world made it taste all the more sweeter to him. He sensed a trace of jealousy within the mare, as well as fear. Fear of becoming obscure, fear of becoming poor. He sighed wistfully. If only he had the strength. All the discontent he consumed went to his survival. There was never enough left over to grant desires.
His lamentation was cut short by a particularly strong sense of misery. He glanced over to see a beautiful unicorn wading through the sea of ponies. He noticed all the things about her that they didn’t. He saw the hatred blazing behind her eyes, the bitter looks she hid from them. A smile appeared on his face as he watched the wretched creature sneer at a passerby. He knew that she wasn’t a pony. He knew that she was really a queen.
He felt her pain, and it was delicious. Failure and fear, loathing and vanity, all of them emanating from her black heart. They went into the endless void of his hunger, filling him with energy. He drew some pleasure in the fact that he was feeding off of a parasite, one whom he viewed as being close to. Oh yes, the love she preyed upon often led to the misery he craved. He had seen it happen countless times.
Her unhappiness might have given him some speck of power, but she never came close enough for him to draw it. Instead she cut around the corner, heading down some street to brood of her defeat. But just as she departed, he felt two more ponies enter his feeding grounds. They talked back and forth, discussing of their past and how to improve their future.
They were brothers. Twins. He sensed that they were intelligent and inventive, two traits that could lead to happiness. But he knew too well that such gifts were often corrupted by greed. But it wasn’t avarice alone that led them astray. He could smell the terror at the back of their minds, the fear of failure. They reeked of it. Failure after failure in their endless quest for success, their minds harboring vivid memories of letdowns.
He saw all this, and knew just how he could have drawn them into his clutches. But he couldn’t. Their misery wasn’t strong enough. They had hope for the future, something he had to take away before they could be truly unhappy. He sneered at them as they entered a café, their hope leaving a bitterness in his mouth.
But soon his nose was overwhelmed with the scent of envy, for down the street he spotted one of the most prominent couples in Canterlot. They were coming, surrounded by a cloud of envy, never noticing the bitter looks given to them. The husband, a wealthy business stallion, the wife, a model. Their happiness made him contort in disgust, but yet they gave off something that appealed to him. It was there, buried beneath the first few years of married bliss, were painful memories of being aware they were envied.
Yes, the wife had long been miserable. Surrounded by ponies who valued her looks, never taking notice that she had a personality, hated by mares because she appeared to them as something they could never be. She had everything mares strove for, money, elegance, and splendor. And she had been miserable with them. A victim of beauty.
The story was the same with the husband. From birth he had always had an advantage in life, going on to become one of the wealthiest ponies in Equestria. But despite being surrounded by contemptuous aristocrats, he somehow had a kind and genuinely caring personality. But it was never noticed. All anypony ever saw when they looked at him was his money, and disliked him because of it. A victim of wealth.
He watched them happily stride along. They found each other; somepony who genuinely cared for who they were. He sighed longingly. What he would give to have them be as they once were; broken and miserable. Both would have taken an offer in a heartbeat. The unhappy ones were always the easiest to tempt. Their want smelled the strongest, their misery tasted best. They were the most amusing to harvest.
It was a long time before he felt anything worth feeding from. His eyes snapped open, and began scanning the crowd. He tasted a discontent far more powerful than anything he had sampled today. And it was close. He saw her, a light blue unicorn, sitting across the street at a café. A wide grin spread across his face. This mare was suffering. He tasted succulent misery, smelled an unending lust for glory and fame. She was vain, self-absorbed, but beneath her arrogance lay a raging storm of self-doubt.
It had been ages since he had seen a pony this unhappy, and what made it all the more appetizing was that she had been successful until only recently. Something had knocked her from a success she didn’t deserve, leaving her without the attention so wildly sought. She blamed it on one mare, and her hunger for revenge made his grin grow wider.
For the first time since he could remember, he felt strong. Her misery flowed through him like lightning, charging him with the power he once held. His hooves tingled with energy, ready to begin harvesting again. Filled with resolute, he started across the street towards the mare that had given him his strength back. She noticed him now, and looked upon him with contempt as he sat down in the chair across from her. He could only smile in response.
“The name is Dark…”
