The demon’s flaming magic ricocheted their rainbow of light straight back at them, shattering their shield of unity.
Twilight gasped, confused and frozen. Her mind floundered, failing to comprehend what just happened.
Ringing screeched in Twilight’s ears. Arms felt hot as they blocked the smashing fireball. Pure power pounded her to a pulp. Blackness filled the world as she scraped over the ground and into the statue’s basin. Shards of shattered glass pierced her skin as she stopped to a broken halt by shattering the mirror portal with her body. Opening her dizzy eyes, she saw the full demon–no, Sunset Shimmer. The crown corrupted her beyond belief. Red-hot skin emblazoned her, flame-licking hair billowing in the arcs of flickering magenta energy caught in her hands.
The crook of Twilight’s neck lay as stiff as the jagged stone of the horse’s stand. She tried to pull herself off her blistered back. But nothing listened to her, for half of her muscles felt torn. She had to stop and lie still, to conserve energy, as she could hardly manage to stay conscious. Looking around, she saw the other girls–lying cold and unconscious underneath the blinking stars and uncaring moonlight, surrounded by sprouts of fire scorching the schoolyard. She’d failed Celestia. There was at least one inadvertent success—the portal’s destruction, her way home.
Woozily, she stared down the approaching nemesis. Twilight attempted to lift her arms, anything at all. But she could do nothing more than weakly grasp at air. The grinning Shimmer slowly floated towards her. She bade her time, perhaps intent on enjoying Twilight’s cowering, to watch her struggle and flail. To try to stay awake, crawl away, and attempt to use the severed connection to Equestria. Lower and flower, Shimmer dropped. Eventually, she reached the ground. Leaning, then kneeling, she pressed her claws to Twilight’s vulnerable face, drawing blood.
This event would be her death. Twilight was sure of it. Shimmer continued to maliciously coddle her cheeks, gazing with a burning desire for sheer evil. The digging of her flesh stung worse than sandpaper dragged over a paper cut. Twilight tremored, waiting for the inevitable result of friendship failing. However, instead of ripping her guts out or mauling her to death, patient intent glimmered in Shimmer’s eyes. Twilight’s heart jumped–she attempted to speak. Just as quickly, the demon’s hands lashed to grip her neck. She couldn't breathe. Shimmer was choking her out. Second by agonizing second, the air ran out. Lungs grasped for non-existent air. No escape.
Her throat gargled, desperate, struggling.
For nothing.
Her eyesight went dark.
And…
… and…
… the assault continued.
Sensations ripped with discordant harmony to bring Twilight back into the realm of technically living. She could feel nothing but the harm inflicted upon her. Aware of her body, but unable to control anything nor awaken from this nightmare. The massacre of glass shrapnel had been removed, becoming never-ending phantom wounds. Shimmer let her live, only to trap her in a dreamscape of torture. There was no sight–just the misty, blazing sensations. Deep slashes sliced through and over and under Twilight. No recourse except to yowl existed. Yet she had no mouth. It all stayed within her trapped consciousness.
Cold, dull metal laced itself to brush over her burning, thrashing skin. Unable to stop anything, Twilight could do nothing but let it happen. Let Shimmer destroy her body while her mind fought an abysmal, suffocating void. An ebb and flow to the breaking of her established itself. At times, Twilight focused solely on the pricking inflections chosen to induce extensive injury. Sometimes, she had spare moments to scarcely form thoughts. The emerging hypothesis Twilight pieced together more or less morphed into a confirmed theory, supported by numerous painful data points.
Shimmer was playing a game with her. And Twilight knew not why, nor if the demon retained any morsel of mercy to spare her life.
Aching throbbed each time these thoughts circled. Yet no possibility existed to end the wounding nightmares. She feared for the fates of the other girls.
Memories of energy rippled through Twilight’s dreamscape over and over, searing surges of the hot magic washing over them. Everything felt wrong. How did they crumble at such an important moment? She desperately wanted to awaken. But she was prevented. A harsh magical essence kept Twilight chained. What had Shimmer done to the girls, given the pain she was experiencing? Blinding flashes of red and white repeated and repeated and repeated. Nothing made sense. Screams unseen echoed. Just aware of it all, but unable to seal it away.
Twilight rewound the ceremony, reliving the breaking of the friendship shield, barely aware of any memories beyond it. Cracks of the cyan magic fracturing, raining a cacophony of cataclysmic remnants whiplashing at her. She struggled to create a sense of the circumstances causing their downfall. Was something wrong with them to cause the magic of friendship to utterly obliterate? That couldn’t be. Shimmer must have had an ace up her sleeve. The human realm stood doomed thanks to Twilight’s failure. Why had their friendship attempt, their last stand, failed?
The mental torment took its toll as the eternal loop played. Twilight wept. She’d failed Celestia. Twilight felt without finality, as Shimmer toyed about, playing.
Time ticked by, uncountable, with Twilight the victim stuck in its lava flow.
Not even she could last forever.
So, at an unknown point, in a moment of grasping lucidity, Twilight begged.
“Please… let… it… end…”
Her voice weakly peaked before dying.
Menacing laughter soaked what little remained of Twilight’s confidence.
Cold, cruel, calculating, uncaring, casually finding pleasure in her grim state.
“We’ve just begun, Twilight.”
New waves of terror gripped the former alicorn.
“You deserve to be a failure. Now you’ll see the price you pay.”
An injection shot into Twilight’s upper shoulder. It punctured deep inside the flesh to reach the bloodstream. Chemical flames infused, shooting straight to her heart. From there, the concoction spread throughout her slumbering form. Twilight screeched awake into the conscious world. Despite the dreamscape being wiped, she immediately knew only evil machinations followed in its wake. It took a moment to adjust her eyes. Trying to move her body, Twilight sat paralyzed. Terror dawned upon her; it trembled in her weak stomach, which wanted to puke its contents.
A crackly voice announced its presence courtesy of a badly fine-tuned speaker installed somewhere in the ceiling above her. While Twilight disorientedly figured out her situation, nerves reacting to consciousness after days of misuse, her hearing was good enough.
“Let’s play a game, shall we?”
The demon bespoke.
“Your will versus my tests. Consider it mercy.”
Twilight was trapped; shivers controlled her still-waking body. No matter the odds, however, she could not give up. She must live, for her friend’s sake, if not her own. If Shimmer was foolish enough to keep her alive, she must take the chance. A small seed of hope planted itself, buried and crushed under her burgeoning emotional burdens.
There was a very good reason she could not move. A chair, composed of fearsome and strengthened steel, withheld her. Heavy, sluggish chains anchored her waking lower limbs to square legs. Locks to them connected to the clamps restraining her ankles. A tight metal cage wrapped around her waist and torso, leaving no room to wriggle or properly breathe. Sharp ribs etched themselves into her side, ten per side, with their sharp, serrated texture. Perhaps threatening to snap closed any moment. Similar structures encased her immobile right arm and hand. Lastly, a larger iron band choked her neck to keep her head in place.
For an unknown reason, her left upper limb remained free to roam, if limited by the particularly uncomfortable shoulder part of the torso cage. She tried to squirm her neck to look behind, but she couldn’t budge. Sweat began to trickle. Though one arm could be moved, it did not help the rising sense of claustrophobia she felt. Nor did it help to feel degraded and filthy. Shimmer left her clothed in the tattered, ash-stricken remnants of her prom dress and boots. The steel’s cold touch prodded wherever it could.
A new terrifying thought struck–if Shimmer kept her like this, how much worse were the girls faring? Twilight shook her head. No matter the impossible odds, or the horror she faced, she had to get through it and live. A few determined tears trickled, splashing into the torn fabric. Regardless of the pain Shimmer inflicted, she must stay calm and rational.
First, she had to take stock of her environment. Shaky breathing ensued as Twilight analyzed. White barren walls and floor tiles greeted with equal enthusiasm. Bright white fluorescent lights hummed above, casting ominous illumination. She blinked a few times after staring. A speaker system also inhabited the ceiling; this must be a repurposed schoolroom. On the left, occupying the doorway, stood a solid metal door. A padlock held it closed, yet Twilight saw no key. Bubbles of worry arose. In reach of her left arm, was a control panel with six buttons of varying colors. On the wall in front of her, six black screens hung.
The dots connected as if lightning was on cue. Just as she noticed the blinking red light on a camera mounted above the screens, the speaker popped to life, startling Twilight from her momentary panic. Dread seeped in as if to poison the vows she’d promised herself but a minute before.
“I see you’re fully awake.” The sneering voice of Shimmer echoed, “You’re as smart as I hoped, connecting-”
“Let them go!” Twilight yelled in a sudden frenzy.
“Oh, so you’ve figured-”
“I don’t care if you kill me! Just-”
Electric shock struck the princess, cleverly built into the neck clamp. Twilight’s body shook violently as the currents passed through her. Screams unlike any before ripped from the deepest pits of her throat. Yellow and blue flashes rapidly flared in her vision. The fury of a fire, contorted to a whip of incomparable heat, hit every part of her simultaneously. Worse than the explosion or nightmares, Twilight honestly considered succumbing underneath the layers of extrication. A mere ten seconds elongated to ten minutes in the mind’s eyes before it stopped.
“I enjoy seeing your face as you writhe.”
The world remained scarcely coherent as she recovered.
“I was considering letting you die, but I had a funner thought.”
Twilight knew not where to dart her twitching gaze.
“Me, for them…” Twilight wheezed out. “What else could you want?”
Another cackling laughter.
“For you to suffer, Twilight.”
Dams of tears lingered upon breakage. Twilight fought to keep herself together against these revelations. Shimmer lightly chuckled, watching from afar.
“Either you submit to my game, or they die, and you’ll be your fault. Basic choice.”
“It can’t be that simple!” Twilight yelled.
“Of course not. They’ll have to be in it, playing as well.”
Anger bit the former alicorn’s words. “That wasn’t what you said!”
“I hold the power here, and you failed Celestia. Don’t forget that.”
“You just-”
A half second of electricity jolted to cut off Twilight.
“Your suffering is to watch them suffer, knowing you forced them to make the choice they soon shall make to stay alive. ” Shimmer hissed gleefully. “Or you let them die in delightful ways, having watched them before I kill you myself.”
No words stirred.
“As I thought.”
Twilight’s stomach fell flat. Not them too, not them too, not those innocent girls too. Myriads of tears burst amidst her agitated state of guilt, wanting to live, and a maze of other complexities. Who knew what this monster concocted for each of them? For her to mentally endure, trapped in this steel prison, versus minimal hopes of living. Was her life worth this much? It hurt her mind. She might not ever be able to live with herself for failing the girls. Even so… Twilight sniffled. Even so, they deserved to live, if not her. It wouldn’t be her fault, yet it felt like it anyway. She had a duty to carry out. If she could help it, they would not die.
“They have nothing to do with this, you know….” Twilight trailed off, whispering vainly.
“Ah, but they tried to stop me. It's all your fault, isn’t it?”
Hatred, an emotion she’d felt so little, boiled, laced with her swirling, fumbling stream of unclear head ramblings.
“Stop it! Stop it!”
Shimmer laughed heartily. “I will if you can live through my challenge.”
“You’re twisted!”
“Thank you. Now, to business, or else.”
Twilight glared at the camera. She couldn’t find words for a rebuttal. Instead, they simmered on the tip of her furious tongue.
“Awaken your comrades.” Twilight swore she could hear the smiling. “And let the games begin.”
Fingers trembling, Twilight gulped. No recourse left itself except to comply with the demon. The deepest dread she’d ever felt nestled. Shimmer meant to break every one of them. Test their will to live. Twilight couldn’t help but feel responsible. She was the one to encourage them to stand up. And here they were, at a literal demon’s mercy. If she didn’t comply, she would be at fault and haunted with guilt. Better to die knowing she is at least tried. She went pale and ill, feeling the need to vomit, though nothing came up.
“Let’s speak to them one by one, shall we?”
Shakily, Twilight pressed the yellow button, corresponding to the upper left most screen. It instantly flickered to life; Twilight couldn’t deduce whether to regret it.
“No, no, no, no….” Hoarse whines left fumbling lips, processing the situation.
Shimmer cackled. “You each possess sins to pay for.”
“What could-” An electric current interrupted by spasming her tongue.
The room was bare white, with a locked metal door–similar to her own. A set-up syringe pricked Flutttershy’s shoulder before bouncing off with a clatter. She gasped awake, stumbling out of her chair onto her hands. Twilight could only squirm in horror, mouth agape, at the contraption mounted to the shy girl’s face. The gifted audio of her alarmed breathing teased Twilight’s churning intestines. As Fluttershy sat up to kneel on her knees, the cord attached from her back to the chair snapped. The clock on the contraption moved, bringing widened eyes.
“Fluttershy-” Twilight screamed before another shock painfully cut her short.
“She can’t hear you. None of them can.”
Upon Fluttershy, a head cage composed of multiple rusty parts tightly fit. But the most prominent feature was its deadliest. The opposite ends of a bear trap tightly clamped near each other on the other inside her jaws. One half fastened at the base of her neck. The other overarched her forehead. Their sharp maws awaited to spring and snap. The room stood barren of the chair, and what spread before the poor girl. Twilight wanted to cry at the cruelty of the objective Shimmer conceived. Guilt gnawed at her caged guts.
“Fluttershy.”
The yellow girl looked up, hearing the same words Twilight did.
“You must atone. Look before you.”
As Fluttershy obeyed, Twilight viewed for a second time. The sedated canine, a mutt of some sort, lay deathly still on the floor. A red ‘x’ stained its slow-rising chest. A butter knife rested atop its soft flank. On the locked door’s keyhole was another brightly painted crimson mark.
“You stole from the charities you worked for just because I stole your lunch money. All so you wouldn’t starve to death, because your parents neglect you. But what of the starving dogs who died because of your gluttony?”
Flluttershy’s tried to shake the lock securing the trap to her neck; no dice. She switched her gaze between the dog and the door. Her breath whimpered–her heart storming. Trembling fingers picked up the blade. The timer’s ticks clicked.
“The key to your life is close to the heart. You have one hour.”
The screen shut off. Outrage stifled Twilight. How dare Shimmer victimize Fluttershy’s actions? She had no choice, nor could tell anyone without fearing harsher bullying and retribution. It sickened her to the core.
“This is your doing!” Twilight yelled. “You forced her-”
Another shock. Shimmer tut tutted.
“Regardless of my involvement, her sins are the result of her own decisions.” Demonic giggles spilled from the speaker. “I told you they’d suffer to live. Of course, if they want to.”
“What kind of game is this?” Twilight fought her restraints futilely.
“One that determines if you choose to let your friends die or not, Twilight, as well as testing everyone’s willingness to be alive, for the chance to see their friends again.”
Gritting her teeth, Twilight swallowed a retort, lest the demon change her mind. A plethora of emotions overwhelmed her. Fear for the girl’s lives. Guilt for roping them in and the trauma they’d live with. Nervousness that they wouldn’t survive their traps. Dread at what Shimmer had next in mind. Bitterness for the torture they’d endure. Misery for her own suffering, being forced to do this. Anger at herself for failing. Madness that she was having to do this at all. Horror of what was to come. The hesitation locked her up. The control panel brushed her fingertips. Yellow, pink, blue, orange, white... and amber?
“Tick tock, Twilight…”
Swallowing, Twilight mustered movement to will her arm to move. Her hand rose, uncertain of its direction. She randomly mashed one. The pink button clicked. A second screen brightened.
“Pinkie Pie.”
Shimmer announced the second victim with deliberate glee.
“You, too, must repent.”
A wired drug infection also awoke a confused and now fumbling Pinkie. She, too, wore only the battle-torn, fire-battered outfit from prom night. Compared to Fluttershy, the room stood empty aside from the chair. She was free to roam. However, the door presented no keyhole. Twilight pondered the terrible methods Shimmer had devised. Though often wild, Pinkie was not stupid. Her eyes stared pleadingly at the camera, right at Twilight. ‘It’s not your fault,’ her lips read. Twilight’s eyes watered, crying that this girl could forgive her.
“Too frequently have you taken out your anger at me on others online. With your quick hands, you send hate to others all day, to gain the attention your boring, respite family and school life never delivers. Today, your wrath ends.”
Pinkie saw the exit the demon devised right at Twilight as did. Inside the wall, a large furnace was embedded. Two tiny, hand-sized entrances led to two large handles. Heating racks above and below, fire thrusters encasing the sides. Wrist-shaped-indented metal blocks loomed above and below the entrances. An oven time set to ten minutes displayed above them. Twilight winced. Sweat glistened on Pinkie, the room cooking. She only had so long before heatstroke, among predictable results, ensued.
“A sacrifice is required. Perhaps your hands can serve you once more”
Pinkie looked at Twilight, eyes recoiling, before the screen buzzed off. No words came to Twilight. She could only ponder the violence planned for the other girls. The demon’s quiet cackles tuned out–background noise. Why? The questions burned. Why would Shimmer do any of this when death was a much easier alternative? It went far beyond a misplaced belief such as vengeance or a right to rule. It was evil incarnate. Simple as that. Much as she wanted to stop it, she couldn’t stop any of these deviant activities. Play, play, play, she must.
The horribleness screwed Twilight’s mind. These memories would last forever for her and all of them. Choosing to want to live would be easy. Genuinely carrying out the actions to do so, however, facing the cutting consequences, was the true psychological damage. Unscratchable itchiness pestered Twilight, unable to extricate the painful thoughts. Worry set in if she took too long, Shimmer absolutely would snap. Twilight did not want to push any one of these buttons. But for their lives, she had to. Years of discipline under the princess wormed up from her roots.
Absent-mindedly, Twilight struck another button before she could stop herself or commit an irreparable action. Heaviness hounded her heart.
“Rarity,” Shimmer announced.
The next panel revealed a blur of seething white.
“Karma has caught up, darling.”
The fashionista jerked awake on the entirely metal floor. Seemingly out of spite, a shiny bronze clamp overlapped Rarity’s mouth to gag her. Furthermore, she was entirely stripped of clothing. Twilight noticed how she shivered. The room, she realized, must be frigid, opposite to Pinkie’s test. Each chamber was tailor-designed for each occupant. Realizing the depths of Shimmer’s hate severely frightened Twilight. She shuddered as if cold as well. This wasn’t suffering. It was Tartarus on Equus. Consternation flummoxed in Rarity’s perplexed expression; frosty breath bellowed from her nose.
“True to the nature of your industry, you became toxic to your friends from the tiniest shreds of malice I framed them for. You became ugly, mocking others for their choices while refusing to admit your own faults. But, at last, your reign of filthy envy shall end.”
Twilight could do nothing but observe. The mechanism of leaving was next to the door. The tiniest hints of frost on the hinges barely registered to Twilight’s naked eye through the camera feed. A scale rested in a hollow carved into the wall. What might be bulletproof glass nearly sealed it off, save the sliver of an opening to allow materials to pass through. Besides Rarity, a sole serrated knife hung on the wall. The machine, she deduced, must be calibrated to require a certain weight to open the exit. Bile taste traveled in Twilight’s throat.
“A pound of flesh and scars to your reputation is the price.”
Shock showed in Rarity’s smeared makeup; she was trying to pry the metal gag off as the feed cut. The pure fear she radiated singed Twilight. Personalized torture went far beyond a distaste for an enemy. It demonstrated the colors of their soul. The metal cage in which she sat tugged at Twilight, taunting the impossibility of escape. She had to keep it together. In spite of what Shimmer threw at her, she had to keep it together. No failing this time. For them, for her friends. Twilight found it harder and harder to keep going.
Three checked off, three more to go. The fate of the remaining half rested on her shoulders. Even then, Twilight knew not if any of them would actually go through with the tasks set of them. Shimmer’s tests would certainly afflict them with years of nightmares and trauma. Others of them would be crippled in a brutal style. The possibilities tore Twilight apart. Sweat dripped frantically. So far, Shimmer showed a dim, weird aura of fairness. One by one, she was dividing them. Twilight wanted to concoct a clever dialogue to exploit Shimmer’s honesty-
A flow of blistering current snapped Twilight to focus.
“Tsk tsk,” Shimmer bemused, “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Why-” but another shock.
Amusement flowed in the demon’s voice. “Move along now, we’re almost there!”
The unspoken ‘or they all die’ weight on the former alicorn’s heart.
Her fist slammed onto one of the upright buttons.
The fourth panel lit to life.
“Applejack,” Shimmer called with an echo.
The farmer’s slumbering form stirred.
“You shall arise for judgment.”
Warrior instinct kicked as Applejack shot up with a yelp. The band-like device strapped to her wrist injected and infected her bloodstream with a substance, based on the flow of blood leaking from underneath. Defiance demonstrated in Applejack’s eyes as Twilight’s vision graced another near-empty room. To Twilight, it felt like Shimmer held an especially vicious vendetta towards Fluttershy. Strings of barn-based expletives left Applejack’s usually clean tongue. She also started walking ever so slightly woozily as she ventured to explore.
“Contrary to your claimed honesty, you stooped to malicious deceit. When I embezzled school funds, you chose not to report me, cowardly fearing blame. Instead, you lied on your taxes and cheated customers to cover up the loss. Your greed grew too far.”
On a table, a remote detonator chilled as if a child’s toy left out and about for anyone to use. Applejack cautiously examined it. Twilight feared whom it could hurt, as much as her friend surely did. Its long antennae wavered, posing jeopardy. Two switches occupied it. Only then, did Twilight realize the course of action Applejack faced. One switch was painted the color of a granny smith apple. The other, the yellow of a golden delicious. Flipping it to the other side bequeathed a crude drawing of a barn in flames. Applejack’s hand rattled at the sight.
“Your livelihood shall burn. And with it, either the elder or the sister blazes.”
“You sick f-” Twilight nearly swore. An excruciating electric shock knocked the words away.
“Decide, before the poison does, whom you want to be there for.”
Applejack just simmered to her knees, struggling with the demon's words as the panel shut off. Thrashing against the metal rib cage rubbed Twilight's skin raw. But she had to get her fury out somehow. Distracting her mind as she screamed at the world. At Shimmer. At herself. Roaring the sights she'd seen and fates her friends were being subjected to. Fabric tore and stretched, scratched and itched. Several minor cuts opened due to the proximity of skin and metal. Twilight couldn't care less. She cared not long for how much she hurt. Hardly much could be worse.
Internally, something cracked. Watching Applejack forced to choose between which of her family to murder crossed an unspoken line, unlike the other girls. An impossible moral dilemma. Yet was she any better for not killing her friend, thus cornering her friend in the scenario? Or would both her family both have died along with her? Immovable object versus unstoppable force. Twilight couldn’t bear it anymore. Shimmer's game twisted more and more with the constant half-lies. Each press of the button. This–this was exactly what the demon wished. It took a minute to calm down–more so, Shimmer forced her to with more vicious volts.
“The final two await you, Sparkle.”
Yellow, pink, white, and orange rested firm and snug, used up. One button of blue, for whom she most certainly knew would awaken next. Unknowing of what fate the demon created for the athlete, pinched like falling into a pit of spikes. The mysterious amber, by a gargantuan gap, scared her to the extreme. It could be anyone. That Shimmer would throw in a random student she might've but talked to toiled the weariness. Outside the girls, pretty much no one attempted to annihilate the demon in the battle. Who?
Shimmer had her cornered like a wild animal hunted to the brink. Flittering specks of hope existed to live another day. Yet it’d cost her. It could be part of a long-term trap by the demon, to extract an unknown by utilizing her weakness against her and pinning her to unavoidable scenarios if she chose wrong. The constant duress stressed Twilight to her limits. The choices, the morals, the ethnics, the dilemmas–the grandiose scheme the demon tugged her along with. The verge of no return crept ever close.
Twilight rapidly bashed the blue button before she mindlessly pondered and killed them both by indecisiveness. Her hair felt hot.
“Rainbow Dash.”
As she had been anxious about.
“The past has caught up to you.”
Unlike the other girls, the Wonderbolt wonder's trap immobilized her nearly completely. She struggled, attached to a thick, sturdy oak table. Leather straps fastened to her neck, torso, and legs looped through slits slotted in the wood. Rainbow yelled threats at whoever dared do this to her. Meanwhile, she buckled to break free–the demon's impeccable craftsmanship stood firm. But they were the least of her concerns. A mysterious machine affixed itself to the ceiling. The sharp edge of a blade gleamed inside. It lined up with her mid-thighs, where the latchings holding her bindings came together. As soon as Rainbow saw the metal's gleam, embers of fear sparked.
“Your actions hurt others. You grew isolated, and jeered by the peers I turned against you. To cope, you resorted to inflicting violence back. Soon, you gave up on yourself and gave into substances. All because you couldn't admit you had a problem. Today, your streak of pride ends.”
Twilight heard her teary, unbelieving cries of no. The audio relay scuffed the sound, enhancing the wretched mess broiling in her mind. The test's full extent was revealed as Twilight's eyes rumbled. Rainbow panicked, trying, trying, trying to break free. Two levers attached to the sides of the table, in range of the blue girl's bird-free arms. Miniature flamethrowers glared by each leg, brimmed in readiness. Presumably, their purpose was to cauterize the wounds as they formed. Shimmer would let them live. In return for a steep cost. Twilight shivered and clenched at Shimmer’s deviousness. Rainbow’s legs were her lifeblood–the foundation of how she valued herself.
“Now, you must give that which is essential to everything you hold dear.”
The glint of hope in the blue girl's eyes died. Then and there, the demon chose to terminate Twilight's viewing. A gut feeling told her those eyes would forever haunt her memories, bringing sleepless, tossing, turning nights. For Rainbow, the path was clear glass. Cripple herself and crawl to help or else starve to death. The imagined pain she'd go through rebounded in Twilight as if happening to her. Watching them suffer, after all, was what Shimmer planned. It felt a losing battle to stay herself. There was nothing to do. No way to stop it. Only hope she came out alive to help them through the end actions of the torture scenarios if any of them decided to.
Trying to understand the reason drove Twilight to cracking ends. The demon was unfathomable. Not even King Sombra delved this low into the pool of evil and sin. The metal rib cage bruised as she sobbed and laughed spontaneously. Nothing. Twilight, in some strange way, after witnessing so much suffering of others, felt near nothing now as she replayed the events in her head. A void of expanding despair within–the light imploded. Pity for the agony of the girls, and nothing but morsels for herself. She couldn’t bother trying to find a way out. Besides no magic, there was none. Everything began to feel different. She was a bodyless mind built to watch the torment of others.
One last button to go. Her hand groped its edges, its hard plastic tethering her to any sense of reality. The amber glowed as it basked in the room's bright light. Who was it? Even choosing at random, the girls' predicaments had grown worse and worse. How much worse could it be for the mystery student or teacher? She did not know. She feared this unknown. Exactly as Shimmer planned. Hyperventilated breathing labored her lungs. Twitchy fingers danced on the control board as if in a late-night rave. The claustrophobia of being restricted from movement for so long ate away.
An electric shock shattered her nervous fiddling. The room's cold amplified one thousand-fold. Unlike previous instances, the electricity kept going beyond two seconds. Twilight tried to speak to the demon and found her tongue spasming from the continuous current. The entirety of the former alicorn's body seizured wickedly. The metallic nature of her encasement ensured it. She fell limp, a mind in a shell alive at the whim of a dishonest maniac. Unable to breathe, her lungs burned. The blood in her ears resonated–the room's eerie quiet echoed. Shimmer's whispered cackles were a mocking static.
Blackness reeled at the pinpricks of Twilight’s vision. At some point, before any inkling of asphyxiation coursed in, the current cut. A round of tears spewed as she recovered control of her muscles and tendons. Why why why shot and shot and shot. She'd been shocked just for procrastinating. The magic of the crown could be corrupting Shimmer… yet it might not be. Why did she feel any amount of sorriness for she who held her captive as a rag? The sixth and final, unused monitor blurred into central focus as color re-entered functioning eyesight. The weight of her decisions crushed, enough to turn dirty coal into blood diamonds.
“Twiiilighttttttt….” Shimmer sang with a happy high pitch.
She didn't dare speak a word lest she be excruciatingly shocked. An unstoppable withering manifested, sinking in.
“By chance, you've saved the best for last!” The jubilant atmosphere of her words hurt.
Though she stifled the crying away, the thrumming of her tearing did not cease; her eyelids felt raw and dirty, the days-old makeup stinging.
“Or perhaps,” another shock ripped through, “You want them to die.” Threats carried on the edges of her tongue tip.
Twilight swallowed the vile feeling everything was about to go from bad to worse. Fear greater than ever burst. With great regret already in motion, she complied; the button sank in.
“Flash Sentry!” Shimmer announced his name like a carnival game.
The words died in Twilight’s throat. They would not help anyway. She could only watch the horror unfold. As with the others, a syringe shot forth to shoot up with a waking concoction. The blue-haired boy sat up to examine his circumstances. A scowl formed as Shimmer’s audible laughter sounded. A ridiculously large metal collar wrapped his neck; red blinking lights adorned it. In the middle of the room, a loaded shotgun situated itself. And on the other end, Spike, her beloved assistant, growled awake, one leg chained to the wall, unlike the boy.
“No!” A bloodcurdling bawl left her inflamed gullet.
The demon chuckled, bemused.
“Why? How could-”
More energetic jolts surged at Shimmer’s whim, leaving Twilight speechless and weeping, unable to do a single action to save either of them. Flash glared worryingly at the camera, moving to the center of the room. His untrusting hands picked up the weapon to examine it closer. Spike, meanwhile, was confused. A muzzle prevented him from speaking or letting Flash know of his sentience. Unnerving realization shimmered in the former dragon’s eyes at the clanking sound. Flash breathed heavily. Faint beeping pulsed from the collars.
“For years, you were faithful to me, dear Flash.” Her voice showed a hint of softness, unlike anyone else. “But,” and the harshness revamped, “In the span of three days, he cheated on and abandoned me for another girl and her looks. This test absolves you of your lust.”
Twilight mewled, mouth uselessly fluttering. “No, no, no, no, no...”
“Kill her dog, and you may live to see her again.”
“How do I know she’s alive?” Flash’s enraged tone was scrappy, but clear.
Shimmer responded, prepared to rebuke. “When have I ever lied to you, Flash, righteously cruel as I’ve been?”
“This isn’t you.” Resolution carried in Flash’s words–words Twilight wishes she had. “That crown is corrupting you.”
“Valiant try, my gallivanting hero. But alas, the magic merely amplifies my true darkness. You’ve all been lucky so far, is all.”
The feeling of utter defeat bubbled in Twilight. She fought to not succumb to it, despite how hopeless she was to prevent Flash’s unwitting actions.
“And the collars?” Flash questioned.
“Bombs, connected to each other’s heartbeat,” Shimmer explained, “Quite ingenious, if I do say so myself. One of you drops dead, and the other’s releases and the door unlocks.”
He sighed, the desire to seek a non-violent resolution bringing a small spark in the darkness of Twilight’s heart, even though she already knew the logical outcome.
Flash tried to bargain. “This isn’t right-”
“You have one hour.” Shimmer’s coldness rang. “Or you both die.”
Grimace swelled in Flash’s expression.
“One must die for the other to live.”
“Sunset-”
“Don’t you want to be there?” The demon interrupted, snickering. “For your new girlfriend?”
A moment of silence for all parties.
“Tick tock…”
The ominous red blinking of the device served as a focus as the moments whistled by. Grief set in motion for Twilight. The choice was predetermined, the outcome unchangeable. Spike’s eye traveled to the camera. With one glance, he communicated everything. Regret that he wouldn’t be there for her. Sorriness for following her into the portal. Guilt for causing her to lose the crown, even though it was in no way his fault. Declaration of his undying love even in face of imminent death. And thank you–thank you for everything. Twilight quivered uncontrollably, weeping near quietly, choking on suppressed howls.
Flash stared inquisitively, trying to figure out why this dog was staring blankly at the camera. While doing so, he too communicated an apology as the firearm cocked. The camera panel cut before Twilight could see the outcome. More and more tears poured forth from Twilight’s blurry eyes. Beneath the emotional whiplash, the gears of her ever-thinking self turned. How much had the crown corrupted or amplified Shimmer? Had her heart truly been so treacherous before putting it on? None of it mattered anyway. The artifact, as of now, had fused with her. And they stood no chance, not now.
Unable to hold any longer, Twilight shrieked all she felt to no one particular. Though the demon listened, she was beholden to nothing but her promise of delivering Tartarus on a personal platter of silver set alight. Shimmer’s motives unraveled as Twilight stewed between outcry and carving away the reasons for it. These girls had given in to their inner darkness long before she arrived. She thrashed and thrashed and thrashed against the chair, bleeding and bruising from scrapes and acquired wounds.
In due time, all her new friends would be dead or scarred or crippled. Watching them suffer, to force her to harbinger throes and pangs, was what Shimmer planned. It worked. There was nothing to do. No way to stop it. Only hope she came out alive to help them through the end actions of the torture scenarios. Their mental destruction was forwarded in motion by her pressing of the buttons. Yet it was that or guarantee their deaths. Knowing the demon set her up did not unravel the threads of guilt she felt.
The reason for their loss bled clear in a moment of fit. Twilight screamed louder and harder. Each girl had fallen–a consequence of Shimmer’s long-term, extreme bullying and manipulative behavior of all the students. It mangled beyond repair in each of them. It hurt; everywhere hurt now. But what force was stronger than friendship? Now in power, the demon forced them to confront their own actions for cruel, petty, and supposed justice. Eventually, Twilight slackened and quit her raging, purely because it ground her to exhaustion.
The tears did not stop, however.
Shimmer cackled with delight.
How many minutes did the demon listen to her break apart?
It mattered not.
Hatred, unlike any she’d felt before, erupted in Twilight.
For Shimmer.
And everything she’d done.
“How does it feel to suffer, Twilight Sparkle, as you would’ve to me?”
The demon’s voice boomed.
“How….”
The short sentence barely registered as a sound.
“It’s simple.” The down-putting sneer came naturally. “You can’t undo years of abuse and mistrust in three days. In short, there was no friendship to rely upon.”
“In… Equestria-”
The unexpected stab of electricity caused her to vomit. Twilight absorbed the revelations as the shock of the jolt and Shimmer’s words whittled out.
“Humans are different, Twilight, and that’s why you failed.”
She elected to let Shimmer explain, dark curiosity tempting her in full.
“Your sin is sloth. As smart as you are, you failed to do anything right, nor did you take everything into account I did.”
Perhaps… there was truth to that.
“Even though the sun sets, twilight always falls, for the blazing fire rises again.”
The twisted joke brought a single wheeze of laughter, broken as she felt.
“One more thing you have failed to notice in the pocket knife in your possession.”
This must be her test. With nothing to lose except her life, Twilight compelled herself to obey. It pained them to move her left arm to such an angle while the metal cage bound her left shoulder. Nonetheless, it proved possible to retrieve the tool stashed in her torn dress’s purple pocket. Her hand grazed the battle scars, healing burns, and today’s wounds; her feet, trapped in warped dance boots, ached. Warm steel greeted her fiery palms as she returned the arm to its former resting position. Twilight stared at the blade as though it were a welcoming fireplace.
“Blind yourself.”
Shimmer’s demands hammered Twilight further into the drain. It made sense for her demonstrated depravity. It’d crossed her own mind as an ideal vengeance for the demon. This was the price she’d pay to live. To meet her friends and help them. There was no way home to Equestria now. Even if Shimmer found a way, they’d be powerless to stop the demon or cross over themselves. The crown, while empowering the demon, might have averted her evilness enough to allow them to live. How lucky were they–was it even true? Twilight knew not.
“Or you’ll never see them again.”
A technically true statement. She’d talk to them. Hear their lovely words. Sense budding love. Feel hands and hair and lips. Smells delicious food when they eat together. The world would be hers to live in while Shimmer changed it. But she’d never view fresh, wonderful, lovely sights. These memories of them, whole and intact before the completion of their painful tests, would be the last. The fuel of her nightmares, to be never able to fully assure herself they were okay. A form of suffering to stick for her entire life. Twilight almost–almost–admired the creativity of it.
“An eye and an eye makes the world go by.”
Quite a twisting of a quote.
“The choice is yours.”
The blade within unsheathed.
Its sharp gleam flickered under the bright white lights.
She stared at the black screens, pondering a moment further.
The knife engulfed her focus as she pivoted back.
She considered her entire past.
And contemplated her entire future.
The pointy tip invited.
Twilight jabbed it into her left eye.
Author's Note
If you have any questions about the story or the intricacies of the traps, feel free to ask away.
