Twisted Tales

by BaroqueNexus

Rating: mature
Tags: Princess Celestia, Main 6, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Other
Length: 8192

A collection of horror, mystery, and thriller pony tales.

Delve into the minds of BaroqueNexus and many other authors with Twisted Tales, a compilation of horror and gothic stories told by many authors instead of just one.

What makes things go bump in the night in Canterlot? What is Rarity using to make her fabulous new dresses? Why is Fluttershy so afraid of her newborn child? Find out all of this and more in...TWISTED TALES.

Published 2012-12-10 18:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-31 00:06:00 UTC

Fluttershy's Child (Short Story by BaroqueNexus)

Fluttershy's Child

She looked with strange curiosity at the young foal that lay gurgling and giggling in his little crib and could not help but notice the similarities between them. The pink mane, the happy sparkle in their eyes…

But her eyes sparkled no longer. Her mane was like a pink rag, unkempt and matted. Months of torment had weakened her, sucked the fat from her bones and left her like a dried husk, a shell of her former happy self. No longer did animals flock to be in her presence. No longer did the soothing sounds of the birds and the happy chattering of chipmunks and squirrels enthrall her. She was, if anything, a ghost with a pulse, a shadow with a body, empty space with volume.

Of course, she was not always like this. Only since the incident. The mere thought of the word incident fronted the memory to the top of her brain and to the front of her eyes.

That cold night outside Ponyville, coming back from picking wildflowers from the meadow. She normally didn’t stay out long after dark, but that night was an exception.

She hadn’t seen the other one, the one lurking in the bushes, trailing her with the devil’s intent blazing in his eyes. She’d been distracted. Angel had been sick with a terrible cold, and she was merely picking wildflowers in the meadow.

The path underneath her hooves still reeked of the heavy rain that had fallen the day before. The night was alive with the chirpings of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl.

She never saw his face. Never.

He jumped her and made his intentions clear, smiling heinously as she screamed. And then it happened.

Months later, and here she was, staring into the eyes of the burden that had lain in her stomach for nearly a year. Was it a burden still? Surely, as this foal was not a foal but a consequence, an effect to a cause, insult to injury. Literally.

She could no longer bear to gaze into the child’s eyes, but never looked away. She became a statue, a frozen pony, made stiff by fear of the future and fear of the past. It was as if a pane of impenetrable glass separated them, split them apart, so that they could look and do nothing else. She looked over her burden again.

He was small, even for a foal, and his horn and wings were disproportionate to his body, yet somehow they seemed to fit perfectly with the rest of him. An alicorn. The alicorn, the first one born in years. And nopony knew.

Of course, how could they know? She left after it happened. It pained her to see her friends’ faces as she made her way out of the place she had lived for her whole life. They begged, they questioned, they pleaded. And she never told them. She ran.

And now she stood over the crib, gazing at the child with confusion.

With anxiety.

With…hatred.

Hatred for the horn that was not hers or his, but belonged to the demon that brought this blight upon her. Hatred for the bloodred skin that enveloped him. Hatred for the face, the little face he had that whenever she looked into she saw not a baby but a devil…

Hatred.

She hated him. She’d never hated anything before, and now she hated her only child.

But it was not her child. This did not come from her womb. It grew and fed on her like a parasite until it burst from her body, writhing and screaming like the blighted spawn it was. She had cried at his birth, and her wails long outlasted those of the newborn foal.

And now the time had finally come. The tipping point, some call it. When everything is permitted.

Everything.

At her hooves lay a blade of sharpened steel, cold as ice. She reached down and grasped the handle between her teeth, running her tongue over the smooth wood that tasted like the trees she used to cavort around. The knife caught the light, flashing as if eager to meet flesh. The foal, clueless as ever, enjoyed the flashing object, and clapped his tiny hooves together, eager for more.

She began to shake. Ice ran through her body. It was happening. She leaned her head back and positioned the knife’s point right over the little foal’s heart.

Sweat, cold and warm at the same time, rolled down her cheeks, mixing with new tears and forming a miniature waterfall of excess waste down her skin, dripping onto the foal who continued to watch in curious awe, unaware that death lay but half an inch above him.

She closed her eyes, and the tears that she held back stung the inside of her eyes. She could not watch. She could bear it no longer.

Yet something told her to open her eyes, just a sliver. And that was all that was needed. She saw her eye in the blade’s reflection, and she saw him. The devil. She saw him in there.

The demon was inside of her, aching to get out, smiling fiendishly just like he had the night he had made his way onto her and brought forth his devil seed, that which spawned the tiny creature whose life was now separated from death by a mere half-inch. She saw him, heard him, felt him. She tasted him on the wooden handle, smelled his odor, a queer mix of moss and honey. He, the devilish heretic, who turned an act of nature into a twisted, torturous violation, a heinous parody. He, the anonymous, the absolute horror. He, the abomination.

She saw him.

No. She only saw herself.

The knife met flesh and she carved out the baby’s still-beating heart. He never cried, not once, not even as his arteries spewed blood that painted a grotesque portrait of gore across her face. Not stopping, she went deeper, finding the child’s liver, cutting down like one would cut cheese. She separated the baby’s wings and horn from his body, tossing the wings aside and shoving the horn in his mouth to make sure he wouldn’t cry.

He wouldn’t.

And she cut and carved and cried the whole time, her tears mixing with her foal’s blood, entrails splattered across her body. The baby now resembled a split-open stuffed teddy bear, with stuffing pouring out of its belly. Rivulets of blood made crimson waterfalls that poured from the gaps of the baby’s crib.

But she couldn’t see the blood. How could she, when his skin was blood already? She was not hurting him. She was only hurting herself.

Yet she carved and carved, filleting the child until strips of flesh lay scattered around the room. She now wore a dress of blood that ran off her shoulders and legs, and her teeth ached from holding the knife. Sometimes she would put her hoof in the carcass and come away with her baby’s bloody skin, and sometimes her hooves would fill with gelatinous mush that she could not help but bring to her open mouth and let her tongue massage, tasting death, tasting her child, her devil, her burden.

And then it was over. The night was still. She breathed, inhaling blood and exhaling blood. She looked at the carcass.

It was her child no more.

No more.

She blinked, stood the knife up on the floor, the tip facing the sky, and fell gracefully onto the blade, ridding her of the evil, violated place that had been befouled and defiled by the evil demon. Her womb split open, pouring forth the vile, the atrocious. Matted blood seeped from her wound, mixing with her child’s.

And she laughed. Laughed with giddy glee, with joy. She was rid of it. She was rid of the evil at last!

She rolled onto her back and faced the ceiling, the blade of the knife entirely embedded in her body. Blood began to pour from her mouth, and every time she laughed she would spurt a little more, and it would coagulate in her eye, blinding her. Blinded by blood, ripped apart, lying in the remains of her child, she laughed.

For the first time in the longest while, she was happy. Blinded by blood, ripped apart, lying in the remains of her child.

She was happy.

And then the laughter ceased.

Alone (Short Story by totallynotabrony)

Rarity felt a gentle dripping on her forehead. Hmm, what are Aloe and Lotus up to now? she wondered. It took a moment to remember that she was not at the spa.

Opening her eyes, the white unicorn saw that she was lying in a pile of debris. The train car had come to rest in an upside down position. She remembered the squeal of brakes and a tremendous crash, but only blackness after that. Another drop of something hit her. She glanced up.

A stallion had become tangled in the wreckage. Broken boards and twisted metal held his body tightly. As Rarity watched, a rivulet of blood ran down a jagged piece of wood that had impaled the pony’s chest and paused on the end of the sliver, ready to drop.

Rarity shrieked and rolled out of the way, desperately trying to wipe the blood off her face. Her cries brought other ponies from their stupor.

“Huh? What happened?” asked Rainbow Dash. The multicolored pegasus rubbed her eyes.

An orange earth pony sat up, staring at the wreckage around her. “What in tarnation happened?”

“I don’t know, Applejack.” Twilight, a purple unicorn, struggled to get up and comfort the screaming Rarity.

“Here, let me.” A pink earth pony pushed past, making her way to the distraught unicorn.

“Oh my,” said a yellow pegasus, her eyes wide. “Pinkie, where is the blood coming from?”

“She’s fine, Fluttershy,” answered the other mare. “Well, not fine, but not hurt.”

“We need to get out of here,” said Twilight. “Something terrible must have happened.”

Rarity struggled free of the wreckage, panting hard. There was a hole in the side of the train car, a jagged seam torn open by the crash. Carefully contorting her body, the mare slipped out.

Outside, thick fog blanketed the area. Perhaps the limited visibility had caused the train to run into something on the tracks. Rarity stared into the swirling mist, seeing nothing except smashed carriages and her five friends.

“We should see if there is anypony else around here,” suggested Twilight.

“They might need help,” whispered Fluttershy.

Pinkie’s mane looked a little deflated, but she nodded and smiled. “I sure hope we’ll find more ponies. It’s no fun being all alone.”

The six of them began a slow walk towards the back of the train. The broken, twisted cars were splayed across the tracks, not a single one escaping damage. The carriage the six mares had been riding in was near the rear of the line. A growing sense of dread began to build in the air as it became clear that the wreck had claimed the lives of more than a few ponies.

Rarity felt sick as she stepped carefully among broken glass, her gaze on the barren carriage windows and the carnage behind them. Inside the ruins she saw several ponies, but none of them moved.

Beyond the last car lay empty tracks stretching into the fog. There was nothing else visible. The terrain to either side of the rails was hidden, making it impossible for anypony to tell where they might be.

“I guess we should check the rest of the train,” commented Rainbow.

Applejack looked at the blue pegasus. “Aren’t you rarin’ to fly ahead?”

“Ah, no.” Rainbow waved a hoof and putting on a brave smile. “I wouldn’t want my friends to feel alone.”

Rarity was grateful. She and the other five mares started up the far side of the tracks, reaching the car they had climbed out of and continuing forward. It seemed that the fog had only gotten thicker. The heavy opaqueness of it was almost a physical feeling, a clammy choking miasma that made a pony feel lost and isolated.

Blood had been a constant sight all along the train. Ponies had been cruelly slaughtered by the wood and metal of the disintegrating train. Rarity could no longer help herself and fell to her knees, vomiting on the ground beside the tracks. Her friends stood by sympathetically as the minutes ticked by until she managed to quell her heaving.

Cursing her knack for spotting every small detail, Rarity continued forward. Not even the substantial fog could mute the horror her eyes unwillingly beheld.

“Is there anypony out there?” she shouted, hoping perhaps another survivor would reply. Her voice was loud; Rarity could really scream when she wished to, but there was no reply. It was as if the misty air had simply absorbed her cry.

The back end of the locomotive loomed through the fog. The coal tender was upended, spilling its contents out on the ground. The steel boiler of the steam engine had been torn open as if it was made of tissue paper.

Rarity turned, staring back in the direction she’d come. The locomotive crew was dead, completing her survey of the whole train. There had been no other survivors. The mare’s back legs collapsed and she dropped to the ground, tears building up in her eyes.

“Things look bad, Rarity, but you aren’t alone,” said Twilight. “Remember that we’re still your friends.”

Rarity nodded, her vision blurring as she stared into the distance at a single set of hoof prints on the ground, all alone.

Missing (Short Story by CanterlotGuardian)

“Are any of you as excited as I am? Are you? I’m sure you’re close, but probably not exactly!”

Pinkie Pie was bouncing up and down animatedly as she walked along the solitary path, leading to the
Apple family’s farm. Above her were Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, flying as they normally did. Rarity
was walking beside her, trying her best to not get her coat and mane dirty.

Twilight had been at the farm for most of the day, seeing as she didn’t have much of anything to do
besides help Applejack and the family set up for the party.

Rainbow laughed softly as Pinkie went into her latest party-related monologue. Truthfully, they were all
happy for the diversion. Things in Ponyville had been so hectic as of late, it had seemed like nopony had
the time to relax and enjoy life.

They all hoped this party would change that for them.

“I am quite sure that everypony is as excited as you are,” Rarity replied, prim and proper as always.
“Though they most certainly will not be showing it as… exuberantly as you are.”

“Well, duh! Nopony ever gets as excited as me about anything!”

“Not true!” Rainbow countered. “I get that excited every time I get to show off my flying skills! We all
just don’t show our excitement as easily as you do.”

The banter continued as they walked along the path. They had all met up at Fluttershy’s house and had
taken the woodsy way over there. This was mostly Fluttershy’s idea, as she had wanted to take a nature
walk while getting there.

“I haven’t done this in awhile…” she’d said. “I really miss it…”

Of course, not wanting their friend to feel left out, they’d whole-heartedly agreed to it. And it wasn’t like
they weren’t enjoying it. They liked being outside in nature just as much as any other pony.

A few minutes later, they found themselves walking up to the rear of the Apple family barn, where the
majority of the partying was supposed to take place. As they walked up, the door seemed to open by
itself. When it was opened fully, though, a smiling Big Macintosh was revealed to be the one who’d
opened it.

“Come on in,” he said in his usual slow cadence. “Everypony’s here.”

Pinkie Pie let out a shrill excited shriek as she bunny-hopped her way inside. She was so excited, she
went right past Applejack, who was walking towards the group.

“Hey y’all,” she said smiling. “I got a question for ya. Y’all didn’t happen to see Applebloom on the way
over here, did ya?”

Rarity’s smile faltered a bit. “We sure didn’t… Why, is she missing?”

Applejack nodded. “Nopony’s been able to find her all day… We thought that if we started the party,
she’d just show back up. So far, though… Nothin’.”

Dash and Fluttershy looked at each other warily. Could something have happened to the younger Apple
sister?

They barely registered Pinkie’s exclamation: “Ooh, you all even brought in fire barrels! Nice touch!”
Applejack was about to continue when Pinkie’s remark set in, and she looked at the party pony oddly.

“Um, Pinkie darlin’…?”

“Yep?” she asked, looking up at Applejack with a grin.

“We… weren’t supposed to be havin’ fire barrels here…”

“Huh?” Pinkie asked, confused. “But they’re right out here! They’re already lit and everything! Ooh, it’s
so warm!”

Applejack walked outside, Rarity following closely behind her. As they neared the barrels that contained
the small blazes, Rarity noticed a note that was taped to one of the barrels. She pointed it out to
Applejack, and she went over to it and read it.

To my dearest friend, the note said, the one you love is safe and sound. She is in a warm place. You need
not worry about coming to get her; she is already there beside you.

“What in the hay is that supposed to mean?” Applejack wondered aloud.

“Well, if you ask me… It sounds like our dear Crusaders are playing a prank on you.”

Applejack thought about it for a second. “Ya know, come ta think about it… Sweetie Belle did say
something yesterday about doin’ somethin’ to play a joke on somepony. This might’ve been what they
were talkin’ about.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Rainbow said, flying above them still. “Now come on, let’s party!”

“You took the words right out of my mouth!” Pinkie said with a grin as she made her way back into the
barn. The other ponies followed her in.

The party seemed to be a rousing success, especially for one that wasn’t orchestrated by Pinkie Pie or
had Vinyl Scratch DJ’ing for it. Inevitably, Pinkie got into the cider, and drank a bit too much of it. She
managed to control herself well, though, aside from her usual drunken raving about how much she’d
love to get with Rarity- and of course, Rarity put on her usual affronted look.

It was almost a regular party… until Sweetie Belle showed up.

“Hey, Applejack!” Sweetie said, worming her way through the crowd. “You haven’t seen Applebloom
around, have you?”

Applejack smiled at the younger Belle sister. “No, Ah haven’t. Doesn’t this kinda defeat the purpose of a
prank, though? Or is this just part of it?”

Sweetie looked at her confusedly. “Prank? What on earth are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, you know just what I’m talkin’ about. You and Scootaloo pretend that Applebloom’s
missin’, and then when everypony starts raisin’ hay, she pops out and reveals she wasn’t missin’ at all.”

The look on Sweetie’s face betrayed her confusion. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,
Applejack. We haven’t seen Applebloom all day.”

Just then, an orange-furred form fell down from the rafters and landed with a “pomf” on Rainbow
Dash’s back.

“She’s telling the truth!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “We really haven’t seen her all day! The last time we saw
her was last night, when she went out into the woods to go get some firewood for tonight’s party-“

“Wait,” Applejack cut her off. “You mean to tell me that you let her go out into the woods all by herself?
Knowing how she gets when she’s alone out there?”

“But she wasn’t alone!” Scootaloo protested. “We went with her! She just was lagging behind a bit.
She’s the one who told us to go on ahead of her and come back when we’d dropped off our loads of
firewood.”

“Yeah, but when we went to go get here after we’d done that, we couldn’t find her at all.”

At that moment, the heavens opened up and the rain started to pour down in torrents.

“Ah, hell…” Applejack muttered. “The forecast was supposed to be good for today…” All of the ponies
who were outside flocked into the barn, and Applejack shut the front gate while Big Macintosh took care
of the back gate.

As the party continued, Applejack pulled Scootaloo and Sweetie aside. “Now, I want you to look me in
the eyes and tell me the truth: are you trying to pull a prank on us, or not?”

“No, we swear!” Scootaloo replied defensively. “We had nothing to do with this!”

“Yeah, and if we were to pull a prank, we sure wouldn’t do this! We know how much Applebloom means
to everypony!”

Her words rang true to Applejack. This really didn’t sound like something they would do. She was about
to respond when Pinkie gave the all-clear that it had stopped raining. As a few ponies filed outside,
Applejack saw that the fire in the barrels had gone out.

She went and got a few pieces of firewood and took them outside to the barrels. The party had just hit a
lull, and Rarity was about to say something to Rainbow Dash, when they heard a blood-curdling scream
from outside.

Rainbow looked outside just in time to see Applejack fall to the ground in a dead faint. Immediately, she
rushed outside to check on her. Twilight raced outside as well.

“What happened?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t know!” Rainbow exclaimed. Twilight looked into the first barrel, out of curiosity, and had to turn
away to avoid retching all over the place.

“Oh god…” she uttered. Rainbow looked into the barrel and reacted much similarly to Twilight.

The other ponies crowded around, looking in horror at what they saw in the barrel: a charred, lifeless
form, identifiable only by a few strands of red hair that had somehow survived the fire.

The Whizz-Bang Box of Progress (Short Story by kingtiger666)

The Whizz-Bang Box of Progress

It’s been a nightmare, these last few months. I can see the ponies around me turning into monsters, but I can’t do anything about it. Their bodies, twisted into sick parodies, these horrible monsters, they come at all hours. They knock on my door, asking entrance, but I know what they really want. They want me.

“Oh Twilight, come out! It’s not so bad like this!”

They’re here again, and again, and again, they torment me. Fluttershy once told me about a kind of insect that lays eggs inside the brain of a mouse, taking over the body, using it like a puppet until the eggs are ready to hatch, then eats it from the inside out. I suppose that’s what happened to her. Poor, sweet little Fluttershy. Why must this always happen to the most innocent?

“We’re not gonna hurt you, Twi! We’re your friends, remember?”

Oh Rainbow Dash, if only that were still true. You gave me everything I could ever want as a friend, maybe even a lover, if we ever had the time, and now look at you. My Rainbow Dash. I should never have let them take you.

“Twilight! If you come out, we can have a party! I’ve got cupcakes!”

I know what those cupcakes are made of, Pinkie. You lured them out, didn’t you? You promised them safety, and happiness, and delicious cupcakes. Everypony knows that you make the best cupcakes. But I know who’s in the cupcakes. Did they laugh as you ripped them open? Giggle as you cut out their eyeballs? Perhaps chuckle when you wore your necklace of severed horns and wings? You’ve become a monster, and it’s all because I couldn’t convince you to be saved.

“Girls, Ah’m not sure about this, we’re prolly better off jus waitin fer the princess to get here.”

What’s that, Applejack? Princess? There are two princesses! Specify which one! And why? They… No. They haven’t been taken, they can’t have. They’re the two most powerful beings in all of Equestria, if anypony can escape, it’s them! You still can’t lie, no matter what you really are, that’s still the body of my friend Applejack, the element of honesty!

“My faithful student, I’m very disappointed in you.”

A burst of light, and I can tell Princess Celestia is behind me. She’s upset with me. That can only mean one thing. She’s been taken. I turn to face her, knowing that I can’t possibly escape. She’ll cast a spell on me, and they’ll take me too. I’m the last real pony. Rest in peace, Equus Sapiens. Rest in peace, harmony.

“Twilight Sparkle, do you realize what you’re doing?”

There she is. The terrible beauty of the sun itself, marred by the fury on her face. I try not to look at the ‘additions’. Those blasphemous augmentations to her perfect body, the loathsome new horrors that obscure her antediluvian grace. They really do make her more imposing, I suppose, but at what cost!

“You’ve taken it upon yourself to defy the law, the will of the ponies, and most of all, me. I can only hope, for your sake, that you have a very good reason for your actions?”

I don’t reply. I know the law. I know why it was passed. But I refuse to suffer under this accursed system, ruled by abominations out of time. No, even when all of Equestria is dust, when I’m mercifully released from this torment, from the walking corpses of my friends and family, I’ll defy you, monster. You cannot win.

“Twilight, answer me. I’d like to know why you did all this.”

I look her right in the eyes. I see the depths of the pit, the darkest reaches of Tartarus and the culmination of all the demons of Hell, behind her eyes. She did all of this. My teacher, my mother almost, possessed by this eldritch thing. Outside, I hear them again, the indescribable sounds of undead creatures, the putrefying corpses of my friends, as they try to get past my shield. The fetid, nauseating scent of my own sweat, my unwashed body, measured against Celestia’s rosy perfume. The sharp, jagged shadows of broken furniture, books, my mentor’s light turning the shapes into unspeakable monsters.

Finally, I answer.

“Because

I

Hate

Wearing

Clothes.”

Brena (Short Story by Cheyenne)

In the midst of April, a massive blizzard was overtaking Equestria. The flakes came down in mass numbers, falling in a continuous and constant pattern. There seemed to be no end to the clouds within the sky, their clusters stretching for miles and miles. The white mist within the air lessened visibility to the point of far-off objects being invisible to the naked eye. Temperatures had fallen to negative twenty-six degrees Fahrenheit, making it next to impossible for anyone to be outside for too long without succumbing to the cold. No sane pony would dare to trek the winter-blasted landscape if they could help it.

So if there were eyes cast upon the lone form flying above the world, there would also be thoughts deeming her to be insane. But even if there were, such thoughts would have never reached her.

She flew through the cold air with a relaxed and euphoric gait, her forelegs spread out on either side of her as if embracing the bitter atmosphere. Her wings carried her without direction, allowing her to take in every part of the world around her. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to have no flight pattern planned. But despite this, it was clear she was not worried about destination or even time itself. This was made clear by the wide smile and the occasional laugh that would escape her lips. To her, this wasn't a hazardous environment.

To her, this was a place she could call home. The bone-chilling winds bearing into her skin and the constant shivers that went down her spine were sensations she had grown to become addicted to. The constant howling within her ears served as her personal symphony, and its music worked and moved her like no lover within existence could. The white of the snow blanket was an aura invoked by Heaven, with everything within its reach blessed by the mercy of Breña. Her lone presence gave her a sense of dominion and freedom – something that would have only existed in a metaphorical sense beforehand. Nothing and no one had the power to stop her.

As she began a dive downward, her ears perked up at the distinct sound of howling outside of the wind. It was the call of her children, the ones who had done well to listen to their mother. Their cries could be heard from miles on end, echoing throughout the expansive landscape like birds within a forest canopy. They called out to one another, communicating in the language only their race would understand. But they also called out for her, missing their maternal guardian dearly. A soft blush of humility turned her face a faint red, and she couldn't help but feel happy that she was wanted so much. She would return to them soon enough. The last thing on her mind was making them wait.

With halting flaps on her wings, she landed at the gate of what used to be a vibrant and cheerful village – Ponyville.

The entire populace was gone, and the residences showed clear signs of abandonment and neglect. Several homes had their windows either boarded up or shattered, courtesy of the storm. There were also roofs that had collapsed inward, unable to handle the weight of the snowfall. The ground was covered in twelve inches of snow, making the task of walking through it the equivalent of walking through molasses. She found it easier hovering over the buried earth instead of trying to push her way through it as she moved deeper into the village. Once again, the fact that she was all alone struck a chord within her soul. But strangely enough, she didn't feel the elation she had felt when she was flying. In fact, she felt a sort of emptiness within her, almost as if coming here was telling her that she was missing something. What was it?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. There was no time to worry about it now. It was just another feeling that she couldn't explain but another compulsion she couldn't simply ignore. Now that the world was hers, she had plenty of time to figure out the unexplained. For now, she needed to turn her attention towards the task at hand – locating and bringing the Elements of Harmony to her hideaway. They were the relics of the rebellion against her and her kind, and she loathed the fact that they were still within existence while their bearers had been dealt with. Destroying them was something not yet within her power, and it infuriated her to know that there were places that even her reign could not reach. Until she found away to wipe them out of existence and soothe her mind, she would have to keep them locked away in a secure location. No one and nothing could stop her, and she aimed to keep it that way.

Her wings would carry her to the former home of Twilight Sparkle and library of Ponyville.

The tree that had supported both its life and the lives of its inhabitants was now devoid of any vitality. Its leaves had shriveled up and fallen off, their brown carcasses buried within the snow. Parts of the bark had fallen off, exposing the wood underneath. The windows were covered completely with wooden planks, barring any possible intrusion from snowfall. Some of those planks had been worn down, and at least a few of them had collapsed on the ground. Compared to the other houses, it was quite stable, and she couldn't help but be impressed by its stubbornness. The unicorn had made extensive preparations, regardless of them failing.

Once her hooves were on the ground, she pushed the door open and allowed the snow to fall in a pile within the doorway. She paid no attention to it, trotting inside and taking a look around. The inside of the house was much more hospital in deep contrast to the exterior, courtesy of whatever extensive protection Twilight had employed. Aside from the many books that lay scattered on the floor, it was relatively untouched by the storm – something that she was very grateful for. The last thing she wanted was for a difficult search for nothing more than a few relics.

Quickly, she got into her search. She started with the books on the ground, digging and sifting through them. All of the covers and pages had suffered from wetness, courtesy of what water vapor that had managed to get through the barricades. Nearly all of them were unreadable as a result. But that was okay, because she wasn't looking for readable material. The book in question would have the distinct marking of a unicorn's head, carrying the relics within a hollowed-out section of its contents.

There. She found it.

Pulling the book out from the rest and holding it up, she opened it to the hollowed-out section to reveal the necklaces and crown. Despite the condition of the book itself, they looked as if they had just been revealed to the world. Their radiant visages seemed to provide a bit of light to the otherwise dim and abysmal room. It caused anger to flare up within her, knowing that even she had been unable to destroy these weapons of mass destruction. How could she, the one who had personally handed the very deities their defeat, be unable to wipe away the existence of mere pieces of jewelry? It made no sense to her.

“Such dangerous toys...” She whispered, memories flashing through her head as she stared at the Elements. “Those little children shouldn't have been playing with such dangerous toys. It's a good thing that I taught them a valuable lesson.” She shut the book with a finalizing clap and a thin smile. “Otherwise, they would have hurt themselves. I don't want any of my little ones to hurt themselves, or anyone else for that matter...”

Grasping the book between her teeth, she made her way out the door, spread her wings apart, and ascended into the freezing skies once more with eagerness. This time, however, she had a direction and destination in mind. She flew with a purpose, the euphoria within her subdued and controlled for the time being. The location she was heading to was the place where everything began and ended, where their reign ended and her reign began. She would seal away the last of the rebellion's remnants in what she had seen as the capital of Equestria.

Canterlot.

The flight was silent and uneventful as it had always been, with only the howling of the windows and her obedient children breaking the quiet. As she glided over the ground, she could see satisfactory signs of her dominance sweeping below. Entire forests had shriveled up and died, transforming into nature's cemeteries for both plant and animal life. Rivers had frozen to the very core, and the extremely cold temperatures had made it impossible for the ice to be broken or melted. The train tracks within her location had turned brittle, and whatever cars that happened to be out were nothing but derelicts. As with Ponyville, there wasn't the slightest sign of life that could be seen for miles.

It didn't take her long to reach the pathway that led to the center of Equestria.

In comparison to everything else, the buildings and structures that made up the city were a work of art. The vibrant and elegant designs had been covered by thickened ice, which had been carefully cut and molded to trace the original shapes. All of it resembled a massive ice sculpture, one that would have taken years to create by the hoof of labor. But the most striking thing about it was the multitude of pony statues lined up in a path that led deeper into it. All of the statues had varying poses that mostly consisted of running, standing and laying down. It had taken a lot of work to get statues of difference to stand as one. But she had done it, and needless to say, she was quite proud of her work. With a pleased smile on her face, she landed on the ground and eagerly trotted down the path the statues created for her.

As she walked, she could see a mass murder of her children sweeping the skies, their numbers blotting out the cloudy sky. She could see a few of them standing on buildings, their eyes watching her with every step that she took. Their heads were bowed in submission, raising up only when she completely passed them. They themselves were powerful beings within their own right and had been the backbone of her reign. But they recognized her as their maternal guardian, and that superseded any peak of power they could have reached. They were her blade for her to wield in whatever way she saw fit. They were her shield, unbreakable in their purpose of her protection. They were to ensure that nothing and no one would stop her.

The nature of the statues were beginning to shift. When she started her walk, the ones nearest to her were civilians. Now, she was passing by statues of the Royal Guard, which were molded into more aggressive stances. At first, all she saw were grunts and cannon fodder. But as she passed by more of them, she could recognize high-ranking soldiers and officers. That told her the walk to her destination wouldn't take much longer. Before she knew it, she was passing by the ones of nobility, the former leaders of the nation. The irony of their situation caused her to chuckle. Before, they had their people lined up before them.

Now, they were one of her people. She couldn't help but wonder how they felt right now, with that thought in their heads...

Once she stepped hoof inside of the castle, the door was shut behind her and the sound of the winds and her children were silenced. She continued walking through what might as well have been an ice cavern. All of the former glory that made up the innards of the castle had been ripped away and replaced with her beautiful erections. She took it all in with an immeasurable amount of pleasure, satisfaction, and admiration. This was something that not even the gods and goddesses themselves would've thought of creating. This was her fortress, her kingdom, and her land. If she could unleash something like this upon a country, what could keep her from releasing it on another? What could keep her from spreading her reign across the rest of the world? There was still plenty left to conquer and plenty of time. There was still no one left to stop her. The ones that would dare to do so had been dealt with appropriately.

She could safely say that with absolute certainly, for she would be seen by their eyes as she entered the throne room.

Standing beside the throne were six statues, with three to each side. They were the last of her resistance, having fallen in their final stand against her children. Valiantly as they fought, but ultimately their efforts were futile. After they had been overwhelmed, they had been taken back to Canterlot for their final resting places. What stood before her was the memory of her victory and their failure. Overcome with a burst of pride, she sauntered over towards the statue of the lead unicorn and dropped the book from her mouth. The book was jolted open and the Elements were scattered at her hooves, but she didn't seem to care. She stared into the eyes of the statue with a satisfied smile, licking her lips.

“So...” She said as if beginning any usual conversation. “How long has it been? A month? A year? Several? Long enough to make me forget about time. But who could blame me, when I'm within the womb of such beauty? My only regret is that I've deprived you of the chance to experience it for yourself, you and your friends. But then again, that was your fault. You and your beloved monarch just had to keep resisting, pushing it away as if it were some sort of curse. You were causing so much trouble, and you ended up hurting a lot of my children because of it. If you hadn't struggled, this wouldn't have had to happen. We could've ruled Equestria together in a new light, just you and I...”

Slowly, her smile turned into a resentful frown. As she continued to speak, her tone was still calm but carried a slight venom within it. “Of course, you were never thinking of that, weren't you? You were thinking about your so-called “friends” and “family”. Well, how does it feel, protege of the Sun? How does it feel, knowing that one of those friends stabbed you in the back and left you to die? How does it feel, knowing that I rule this land with an iron fist because of your mistake? A mistake you'll never get a chance to correct, because you're stuck within my domain forever. And there's nothing you can do about it.” She emphasized this with a snicker, elation returning to the surface once more. “Once I find a way to dispose of your precious elements, there never will be.”

She stepped back, moving to gather the elements.

A pang in her chest.

She stopped cold, the smile being wiped from her face as she placed a hoof on the spot where her heart would be. For a moment, she stood there in quiet confusion. It wasn't some sort of slight pain of the muscle or anything like that. It was the feeling of uncertainty, hesitation and the general thought that there was something missing. Naturally, it brought about a sense of bewilderment. Why was she feeling this way? She had everything she had ever dreamed of, and more. What could possibly be missing in this utopia of hers?

Giving a heavy sigh, she moved her hoof away from her chest and reached for the Elements again. But the feeling of uncertainty started increasing with every centimeter of distance she closed, and she found herself stopping with her appendage hovering over the assorted jewelry. She stared at them for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly was causing the ache within her chest. It couldn't have been the Elements themselves, for they were virtually useless without their representations wielding them. It couldn't have been the representations either, obviously. It certainly couldn't have been any doubts or fears that she had, considering that she...well... had nothing to fear anymore. But this feeling was too foreign to be hers, too unfamiliar to be of her mind and too vague to seem like any true threat.

She slowly shifted her gaze back at the unicorn statue, then switched it back down to the Elements before going back to the statue again. She couldn't understand it, but now her mind was telling her another message. It was something that just had to be dug up from her subconscious, for she never would have thought it on her own. It was a pointless gesture, possibly one made out of unconscious sympathy for their plight. But it refused to stop ringing within her head, not until she performed the action it requested.

Put the Elements with their wielders.

After what seemed like the longest moment of silence, she found herself grasping the lone crown within her hooves, nearing the unicorn, and slipping it on her head.

For whatever reason, the ache in her chest seemed to ease itself. She repeated the process four times, slipping each necklace around the neck of their appropriate wielder. Every time that she did so, the ache eased itself little by little. By the time she got to the last necklace, it had faded to the twang it had started out as. She sat down on her haunches, holding it up to eye level and regarding it with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. What was this supposed to prove? All she was doing was prettying up garden decorations.

With a sigh, she slipped the Element around her own neck and stood up. She was wasting her time, doing this. There was a world out there to conquer. These were ghosts of a war won long ago. There was no reason to dwell upon the dead or the memories they would bring. She had better things to do than worry about pointless impulses. The world's knowledge would be at her hooves soon enough, and she would figure out why she had gone through this when all of it was over and done with.

With that in mind, she trotted away in the direction of the exit. However, she found herself stopping at the door once more, turning her head to look over at the statues for what she presumed was the last time. Then, she turned away, walking out the door and shutting it behind her.

Not even she would hear the words spoken before she did.

“I'll be waiting...”

Laughter: A Punishable Crime (Short Story by Dragonborne Fox)

Laughter: A Punishable Crime

Pinkie Pie woke from an uncomfortable sleep, the clanking of chains sounding as she shifted. She didn’t understand why things took as disastrous a turn as this, nor had she understood why doing one thing for somepony else landed her in the Canterlot dungeon.

She blinked, vividly remembering that day like it had happened mere moments ago. She was trotting merrily along to Sugar Cube Corner when she saw a foal she’d never seen before. The foal was crying, and she knew, by instinct, that she needed to fix the issue at hoof.

She walked to the little pony and tapped his shoulder with a gentle, pink hoof.

“Wanna have some fun?” She asked with the biggest grin she could muster.

The foal, a colt, looked up at her with eyes of red. He shook his head, albeit reluctantly.

A group of ponies surrounded them without warning, all with scowls of hate written across their faces.

“Laughter is a crime!” They chimed in stone cold unison.

“W-what?” Pinkie was taken aback by that sudden remark, ears perked to attention.

Blackness. It was what always greeted her.

“Rise, Pinkamena Diane Pie.” Said a deep, gruff voice filled with malice.

Pinkie rose, her mane flat and hanging in tangles and many scars littering her once-vibrant body.

She didn’t understand anything about the unspoken law.

All she knew was that she was going to be killed for something she didn’t think was wrong.

Night (VERY Short Story by Öthnæar)

Night (VERY Short Story by Öthnæar)

Night
By Öthnæar

“All yours, Luna,” Celestia said after finishing her daily task of lowering the sun.

“Sleep well, sister,” Luna replied as normal, and raised the moon into the sky. She then waited until the familiar sound of her sister’s snores reached her ears. A grin crossed her face. This would be too easy.

Turning to mist, the Lunar Guardian silently entered the sleeping chamber she shared with her sister and resolidified. Gazing over the sleeping mare brought forth several bitter memories. Memories she wished to forget. This ends tonight, she thought.

Luna produced a dagger from under her wing and firmly held it in her magic. She brought it high above her sleeping sister, poised to kill. Right as she was about to bring it down, she hesitated. Why can’t I do it?! All these years, and still I can’t do it! she mentally berated herself. “No! This ends NOW!” she screamed in rage as she brought the dagger down deep into the chest of her sister.

Celestia screamed in agony as the dagger tore into her chest, but Luna did not relent, plunging the blade into her again and again, blood splattering with each strike. Finally, long after her sister ceased screaming, Luna sank the dagger to its hilt into her chest and released her magical grip on the weapon. She then took a moment to survey her work. The once sparkling white coat was now glistening with blood, courtesy of her torn chest. Organs hung out of the many wounds, torn beyond identification. Luna herself was splattered with blood, testifying to the savageness of her kill. Satisfied, the Lunar Guardian laughed.

“Alas, dear sister, the night WILL last forever!”