Equestrian Family Values

by daOtterGuy

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Horror, Flash Sentry
Length: 1009

Always follow mandated Equestrian Family Values

Always follow mandated Equestrian Family Values

CWs: Homophobia, Implied Violence, Blood

Written for the Thousand Words Contest III in the Horror Category

Edited by EileenSaysHi

Preread by The Sleepless Beholder, Dewdrops on the Grass, and Aklinstar

Published 2024-06-29 02:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-06-29 02:20:00 UTC

Equestrian Family Values

Flash Sentry and Twilight Sparkle woke up in their bedroom. Two beds on far sides of the room. They each got out of bed and dressed themselves, the prior into a thick suit, the latter into a floral print dress. Both slipped on their gold wedding earrings.

Neither looked at the other. They left the bedroom separately.

Flash watched Twilight prepare breakfast from the dining room table. It was the kind of breakfast made for health over taste. His hooves twitched, eager to make something more palatable.

The camera in the corner of the room held him in place.

Eggs. Toast. Haycakes. He was served first, then Twilight. He ate everything. As expected.

“How was it?” Twilight asked, a placid smile on her face.

It reminded him of her brother. He didn’t like that it did.

“It’s great,” Flash lied.

They both left for work.

Twilight sat at her desk, hooves clacking away at the typewriter set before her. Meaningless busywork. The castle foyer stretched before her, a strange amalgamation of old brick and corporate waiting room.

Her mind wandered. She was capable of more meaningful work, but she was a mare. As per Equestrian Values, she was only allowed to do this kind of menial task.

The camera behind her served as a reminder to keep the status quo.

“Please, have mercy on me, Sir!”

She looked up. An Orderly approached, dressed just like her husband. The stallion dragged a mare behind him.

The mare was… Twilight hesitated to even think about the words. She was a creamy beige with brilliant cerulean mane. She was dressed to accentuate her natural cuteness. What drew Twilight in were her eyes. Even blurred by tears, she could see the creative spark in them.

Twilight wanted to compliment the mare. Make some awkward pick-up line about drowning in her irises.

She could feel the camera boring into her back.

“How can I help you, Sir?” Twilight asked, tone pleasant.

“One appointment for re-education,” the Orderly answered.

Revulsion squirmed inside of her.

“One moment, please.” Twilight pulled out a desk drawer to reveal an intercom. She tapped the red button and said, “one for re-education.”

A moment passed. A staticky voice replied, “send to Floor 3, Chamber 9.”

Twilight relayed the instructions.

“Thank you,” the Orderly said.

He began to drag the mare away.

Hooves clambered onto the desk. Doe eyes stared into Twilight’s.

“Please! You have to help! This is—”

The mare’s head was smashed into the wood with a crack. Blood splattered Twilight’s neck from the impact.

“Sorry.” The Orderly hefted the mare over his back, unperturbed. “Finish your shift before you clean up.”

The Orderly left.

Twilight stared into the distance. She could feel the blood drying. She wanted to be gone.

A click. The camera behind her adjusting itself.

She continued to clack away at her typewriter.

Flash patrolled the empty corridor, steel doors evenly spaced along stone walls. He had earned a higher station and been allowed to keep out of the streets away from… the problems. A privilege for good work and following proper Values.

He wanted nothing more than to use that privilege to destroy the system that had hurt him.

The camera above him reminded Flash of what was more important.

“Sir Sentry.”

He saluted. An automatic response. The Orderly regarded him with a neutral expression. A mare was slung over his back.

“Good work,” the Orderly said.

“Sir,” Flash replied. He kept to form. “Another for re-education?”

“Yes. This one was caught gazing inappropriately at another mare. She must learn proper Family Values.”

“Of course, Sir.” Flash forced the bile back down his throat.

The Orderly trotted down the corridor and stopped before one of the doors. He knocked twice. It slid open.

Long green limbs ending in hands spewed out into the corridor, a multitude of horror grasping toward the Orderly and his unwilling prisoner. The hands grabbed hold of both of them, dragging them into the room. The Orderly smiled widely, a hint of fear in the expression.

The door shut on both of them.

Flash continued his patrol.

“No! Stop! Please!”

Unbidden, Twilight turned toward the voice. Bright sun bore down on the cobblestone as a stallion was dragged out of his home by an Orderly, a wide smile around the metal club clasped in his mouth.

Lipstick was smeared across the poor stallion’s lips, begging to be let go.

The Orderly was saying something, but Twilight couldn’t hear them. She could only see white fur and blue mane. A unicorn stallion dragged out as slurs were chanted at him by desperate ponies. The Orderly had raised his club. She had watched helplessly as her—

Feathers covered her vision.

“Don’t look,” Flash said. “Just follow me.”

She wanted to tell him to back off. To do something about the unfair treatment. To stop another loss of life.

Twilight could feel the camera on the nearby street corner looking at them.

They walked onward to their home.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The screaming stopped.

Flash and Twilight stared down at their plates, silently eating the meal prepared by Twilight earlier.

Against his better judgement, Flash had watched everything happen. Seen the messy aftermath. That was the fate of stallions who didn’t follow the Values. Mares were spared, being instead re-educated. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

He’d seen it before. He’d see it again. He’d say nothing just like those other times.

All in memory of his first love. The stallion who’d sacrificed everything for his lover that he never revealed and for his little sister who’d held a secret that could never be exposed.

Take care of her, Flash.

A hoof slid across the table. Flash looked up. He saw the quiver of fear in her lips, the caked on blood in her fur. She needed comfort, to be told it would be okay.

It wouldn’t.

His hoof met hers and held on tight. A lie.

All the while, the camera observed them.